#maybe one day I will draw her in a way that will make her seem like she's actually in dragon age

[lorelune]

incense and ichor

|| aventurine x reader || E/18+ || an almost goodbye || wc: 5k || ao3 ||

Aventurine has successfully acquired the corporatocratic planet of Kalaki Ios. You have acquired some of his heart. The end of your entanglement looms.

minors, antis and ageless blogs dni

notes: HELLO!! finally... i write aventurine. i've been meaning to for quite some time and we all must thank my beloved pal kendra for 1) helping me so so much with my kaiser wig earlier this year and 2) requesting some aventurine bath smut in exchange. thank you to juni (@suguwu) and mermie (@ofmermaidstories) for beta reading this piece. this mf is so slippery, i can only hope i did his character justice!! please enjoy loves 💕

CWs: afab gender neutral reader (they/them), bath sex, soft smut, fingering, piv sex, a little angst with a happy ending, reader is an indentured worker, author-brewed worldbuilding and lore

Aventurine is going to miss you once this assignment is over. 

It’s an odd thing to synthesize fully— missing someone who, in the present, is quite tangible, even touchable.

(Most of his grief and quiet yeanring is tied to ghosts of a long-buried past. Faces that he was too young to remember clearly, and a language that his tongue and mind have forgotten, even if his heart hasn't. Loss is inevitable for him— the byproduct of a blessing of luck is a curse of misfortune. Equilibrium and all. He supposes that it is best for you to be left behind here.) 

Perhaps, you will be the lucky one.

For now, he’s here— in his hotel room’s stupid deep and wide bathtub, covered up to his collarbones in suds with you, resting against his front. Your cheek is pressed against his chest, just above the line of rainbow, fragrant bubbles that he insisted on. You hardly seem upset about it. The scented epsom salts and off-world, floral-scented bubble bath do have you relaxed. Pliant and, for once, seemingly calm. 

Seemingly.

You’re never really calm, he realizes. You’re always looking over your shoulder, on the lookout for the next catastrophe (read: daily occurrence) you have to deal with. It leaves you jittery sometimes, sick to your stomach with a casual sort of dread that you carry around like a load of stones, tethered to your shoulders and back.

He can’t... really blame you. Kalaki Ios is not a kind planet. It probably won’t be much kinder now that the IPC’s acquisition has been completed, but before he leaves, he’ll make sure you’re set up well. He has plans. Schemes.

As he must. 

He could take you from here, he knows. He hasn’t pitched the idea to you, but it lingers in his mind. You have a contract, a difficult one to disentangle you from, but Jade is particularly good at cracking them if she has sufficient enough incentive. She can’t be bribed with credits like the other Stonehearts, but Aventurine could try something more enticing. It may involve you being under her employ for a time, which is unpleasant to think about, but working under Jade would be safer employment than here, on this cruel planet. 

(He wouldn’t want to offer you to Jade for employment, but he knows that she may ask. Perhaps that’s why he is avoiding speaking to Jade in the first place.)

(It makes his stomach turn, thinking about the negotiations in the context of you. He has developed a thick skin for the dealings necessary to be a Stoneheart and be respected the way that he is.)

He has a few days to mull things over and plan.

In the meantime, he has this. There’s just stillness here, a momentary pause from the danger you’re so used to. There’s only fragrant bathwater and the heat of each other. The steam rolling off the bathwater, and the sweat from both of you that mingles where your skin touches. It’s easy to be comfortable, like this. Maybe it’s making him greedy and stupid.

Maybe.

“You’re quiet.”

You break the stillness with a scratching voice, worn from the intimacy earlier. Aventurine has enjoyed drawing each and every sound out of you that he can, even at the cost of your pretty voice. He intends to make you more hoarse by the morning. 

He glances down at you. You peer up at him from under your lashes, the bridge of your nose brushing his chin.

“I’m feeling contemplative.”

“About?”

“Oh, you know,” he sighs, a bravado that he’ll never really be able to shake. Liar, liar, liar. “My dealings. Things should close in the next few days—”

You frown, huff, “I am right here— and you’re thinking about business?”

“I’m sorry— are you feeling needy?”

“Mildly,” you huff, leaning into him. “You leave in a few days then, right?”

Thirty-seven hours system hours from now, to be exact. Days on Kalaki Ios are short. It’s all you know. Pier Point’s are longer, inorganic, designed to be more optimal for the humanoid. Kalaki Ios isn’t that kind, and certainly not to humankind. Maybe the IPC will put in place measures to make it more hospitable to humans than it is now. A longer day-night cycle set with a false sun rather than relying on the dying white dwarf that the planet orbits, maybe. The soil, what little of it there is, could be fortified. They’ll probably import some from a more lush planet. 

Aventurine knows that it will be a difficult transition. You’re smart enough to know that, too.

There’s been a quiet dread in you over the past several days— Ios days, not system days. The lucid knowledge that he’ll be departing, and you will lose the comfort that you’ve grown accustomed to over the past several months. It’s not about the gaudy things. Though the luxe hotel suite that he’s been living in, with its massive bathtub, Kalakian onyx fixtures, and plush mattress, has surely been a plus. 

He knows it’s more than that.

It’s that Aventurine, for better or worse, is the most stable thing you’ve been around in moons. Aventurine is inherently not stable. He doesn’t stay in one place long, trailing from assignment to assignment. And the Blessing that he carries around with him tends to leave scars in his wake without regard to others. But, compared to Kalaki Ios and the shit lot in life that you have, it’s been better. Good, even. 

Aventurine has also been trying to make it good— whether that was serving the deal that he was winding with the Kalakian corporate bodies or not in the beginning, who is to say— but now, he wants it to be good for you. The idea that his parting will place you back at the bottom of the heap, left to rot with all the organic material on this dead planet, makes him feel sick to his stomach.

He wonders if you’d leave. 

You probably would, but he couldn’t force you to come with him. It would probably be best to set you up in a nice apartment on Pier Point and secure you a stable job. Pad a savings account for you and let you have some free will in a place that wasn’t being torn apart by cosmic levels of greed over turbo petroleum and diamond deposits. It would be the least he’d do for you, probably. Maybe.

The most he’d do for you is drag you around with him, from planet to planet. A companion— what a concept. What a cruel fate to resign you to.

It’s a lot to think about now, but Aventurine can’t help but dwell on it. Things will move quickly from here, and it would be best to sort this now, rather than later. But the idea of extracting himself from this lovely bath and the warmth of your embrace to work on paperwork makes him want to kill himself, honestly. 

So, for now, he indulges. For better or for worse.

...

The bath ends with his hands between your thighs. 

From the start, the contact isn’t chaste. Both of you know that. The hitch in your breath and the way your legs fall open tell him that much. His fingertips creep up the softness of your inner thighs, nails dragging over the flesh there. 

“W-We just fucked.” You huff, not all that mad. 

And you did— that’s why you’re in the bath in the first place. But Aventurine has been one to indulge for a while now, and you are an indulgence that he simply can’t keep himself from.

You’re still open and loose as he prods around your cunt. Gentle, because you like it that way, but not coy as he could be. He already played coy earlier, anyway, when you first woke up from your earlier nap while he had been doing paperwork. He’d slipped next to you and kissed your neck and shoulders until you were squirming and practically begging for him.

It’s a fun game, sometimes. But, now, he’s much more inclined to simply give. There’s not much time left for it as things stand. 

He circles your clit with the pads of two of his fingers. Slow, relaxed, but not teasing. The pressure is firm, but not too rough or insistent. Enough contact to have your hips rolling into his touch. Your breath catches, a shattering little sound fluttering past your lips. Aventurine is half-sure that he’s the only one to ever have heard such noises from you. He avoids sentimentality, but the idea of that type of exclusivity makes something in him ache.

He chases the feeling off by nipping at your neck, tugging you, somehow, even more snuggly to his body with his hold around your waist. Bathwater sloshes around you, almost careening over the lip of the tub.

“Be careful,” he chides, lightly, with a laugh that gets you squirming and mildly indignant. It’s cute. “Don’t want to spill, do we?”

“You wouldn’t care.” He really wouldn’t. Losing the deposit on the hotel room hardly mattered; a little water damage is more than worth it to see you writhing and in pleasure (and so, so close to him. So warm and present and almost cloying in proximity.)

There are more practical places for intimacy, but Aventurine has found he has favored the bath with you most of all. 

He’s dissected his preference for this type of romp in the quiet that follows your coupling, once you’ve either dozed off or aren’t lucid enough to do more than accept whatever petting he provides you. He thinks it’s the tile. It’s some igneous rock from the south pole of Kalaki Ios that reflects the sounds of your gasps, whines, and the splash of bathwater perfectly. He read that it’s a stone formed from volcanic activity under the crust, slowly cooled, far under the planet’s surface. It’s a dense rock, perfect for reflecting back sound. 

The tiles are what Aventurine tells himself that he likes most about this space. 

(And not the fact that it’s only ever been just you and him in this room, in the whole suite. No other Stonehearts or associates, no trailing ghosts of the past that have a habit of breathing down his neck when he is comfortable for a moment too long. It hasn’t— it hasn’t been like that in this bath or the suite.)

(It’s just been the scent of you— the cheap perfume that you buy from one of your coworkers. She makes it in her kitchen with herbs that her mother grows.) 

(It’s just been the sound of your shifting clothing, mingling with his. In the beginning, the stiff uniform that the hotel kept you in, though now it’s more often than not the sounds of satin-on-satin. Garments so liquid, they may as well roll off of you in waves when he’s helping you disrobe.)

(It’s only been the heat of your skin over his own and the shared view of the city skyline, soon to be mangled and dismantled, though you don’t know that yet.)

Aventurine— he should probably take you away from here. It would be good for you to owe him a favor. 

He presses a finger into you, sliding his lips down the side of your neck as he does. Your pulse jumps between his teeth. A little sound jolts from your throat, and he can’t help but be pleased with himself. His hand slips lower, to the core of you, playing with the softness of your thighs, dragging his fingers up to the petal seam of your cunt. It’s a slow move, one meant to be coy. Aventurine doesn’t know any differently.

(Oh, the man he’d be if he were an earnest lover.)

Though perhaps, he wouldn’t be himself.

He toys with your clit slowly. Not lazily, but there’s no haste in his motion, despite the looming countdown that hasn’t stopped ticking in the back of his mind. Despite how there’s a feral little animal that lives in his brainstem that keeps shouting and swiveling its poor head, looking for the next danger, terrified of the moment this (this thing he has become so attached to) ends, Aventurine still moves slowly. 

He has learned to savor some things, after all. 

It took time to learn how to truly taste delicacies, luxuriate in the fineries, and enjoy the things in life that he can now affordand finds opulent. It’s extravagance, sure, but he has, in fact, learned how to relish in the pleasure of pleasure when the opportunity presents itself. 

And what an opportunity— you, between his legs, thighs trembling in the bath water, and the smell of your shared, perfumed soak sitting over him like a pleasantly lustful cloud. It’s heady, it’s wonderful, and a gripping distraction from the subtle, back of the mind ‘tick, tick, tick’ of your time together seemingly ending.

You throw your head back against his shoulder, painting, open-mouthed with spit slick lips. Sweat beads between your breasts, over your sternum, dripping into the bathwater as he strokes your softest parts. You’re so tense against him, wound, and he really does hope that making you feel so good will crack open some of that. Catharsis and all. 

Aventurine slips a finger into you, relishing the moan you can’t suppress and the way your hands shoot out to brace against his thighs and the edge of the tub. You breathe his name, thin and reedy, eyes half-lidded. You’re a vision. If you were less skittish, he’d ask to take photos of you for the journey home. 

You are, however, much more like a stray cat with a shock collar than an emotionally-regulated lover (you’re the same in that way, really), so he abstains. Instead, he kisses your neck, down the line of your throat, teething a mark that, for a normal romp, he wouldn’t deign to leave. He’s pretty anti-hickey, given necessary professionalism, but you are his greatest indulgence, and the small part of him that begs and pleads for enough without knowing what that even means— wants, wants, wants to leave his mark on you.

You are truly an indulgence. 

A gasp tumbles from your lips, unrestricted as he sinks his teeth into you. Over the bruise, a bite mark will be indented in your skin, surely. A parting gift, maybe, if Aventurine can’t sort how to break your contract with the damned family that owns you and seven eighths of his planet. At least they’ll be in the Stonehearts’ pocket— it’s a leg up in getting you the fuck out of here. 

Details, details, details. He focuses on slipping another finger into you, curling the two in the heat of you, and stroking the most pleasure-sensitive parts of your insides. 

...

Sex moves to the bed at some point.

Bath sex is impractical, after all, much more impractical than bath foreplay (which the two of you enjoy very much).

You barely towel off enough to be considered damp before sliding into the stupidly large bed of the suite, tangled in each other in a way that’s too close, too close, too close. Aventurine thinks that part of both of you, the small part cut from the same cloth but on different worlds, must feel the same about it. Sex feels good, sure, yeah, but god, there’s something so terrifying about it.

(It’s the proximity, isn’t it? The endorphin rush of skin-on-skin contact really does compete with prey animal-like fear of being so unendingly close to another being.)

It’s easier to calm that part, he supposes, with you. 

He sits over your hips, kissing you stupid and breathless, his cock hard with want between you. You’re just as needy, rolling your hips up into him, seeking friction as you fervently kiss him back. Your hands tangle in his hair, never tugging too hard, but gripping enough so that he can feel it just right. It’s a starburst of pain, the perfect amount— that scratches that itch in his brainstem without being too much. 

He moans against your lips, and you swallow the sound up greedily.

You, at your core, are a greedy person. Well— greedy perhaps isn’t an apt enough word. You’re hungry, which has made you greedy. Hunger and greed are so close to each other. Aventurine knows this well, feels it in his bones when he indulges in his occasional but nearly scheduled, neon-lit benders. 

An indulgence, a penance for him for all of the shit that he’s had to crawl through to breathe. 

He thinks that your time together, for you, is a little like that.

Aventurine lets you be hungry, lets you devour him, nipping at his lips and licking into his mouth, only for him to mirror the action and give you more, more, more. 

His hands hook under your knees, hoisting them around his hips. He presses his weight into you, folding you a little. Your whine, squirm, want. Aventurine flashes you a smile, one that’s probably a little too earnest. Too honest. A crack.

“Almost there,” he says, coos, voice too soft to feel familiar. It startles him a little, even if it’s not the first time that he’s used that tone with you. 

You’re so perceptive; you notice immediately. The edge of discomfort on him, you quell it with a kiss to his cheek, then one to the bridge of his nose, under each eye. 

His cock nudges your cunt, parting your slick folds. The contact is heavenly, scalding, and lovely. You both moan in tandem.

“I’ll put it in now,” he breathes, still soft around his edges. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you swallow. He kisses the column of your throat.

You’re stretched out from the foreplay in the bath, not too loose but soaking. You get even slicker as he rubs the head of his cock up and down your cunt. Your slick and his pre mix, sticky and almost luminous around cunt in the warm light of the chandelier nearby. A divine thing, maybe, if Aventurine (Kakavasha) believed in those sorts of gods of pleasure. Maybe he should start believing, he thinks, as he pushes into your cunt with a sweet kind of pressure that has your nails digging into his forearms, back already arching. It’s good, so good. Aventurine kisses you, hard on the lips. 

He used to not do this. Kissing is intimate, sex is not— at least that’s the impression he had before he was first assigned to Kalaki Ios and you were just the supposedly-suspicious bartender/handyman/bellhop/jack-of-all-trades that served him his first drink of many at the hotel bar. He’d been told you were suspect number one of espionage. He’s not sure who the fuck gave Jade that intel because it took all of three days to put together that you were being framed. It took all of three days of Aventurine watching you closely to realize you were truly, genuinely harmless. It took all of three days for Aventurine to cajole you into his bed and fully synthesize that you were, in fact, not a spy for a local counter-agency but an under an indenture to the corporate entity and family that owned (past tense) 90% of Kalaki Ios’s habitable land. It made him sad. You were, actually, very pitiable. Especially at the time.

He didn’t kiss you then. It took a few nights of pleasure and Aventurine cracking open to finally press his lips to yours. It was scary, scarier than most of the acts he has had to commit as a Stoneheart, but the way you melted into him when he did made it worth it. 

Kissing you now isn’t easy, but it isn’t hard. It’s good— so good, how you curl up into him for more. You gasp against his lips when he cants his hips forward, burying himself further inside of you. 

By the time you’re truly full of him, his hips flush to the backs of your thighs, you’re both panting, little moans leak from the back of his throat. You’re so good, so hot and wet and cracked open. It’s so terrifying, and yet Aventurine wants to glut himself on it. He tempers his hunger so well these days, but by the Amber Lord, he wants to take a bite of you. 

So, he does.

He sinks his teeth into your neck, muffling his own sounds as he pulls nearly entirely out of your cunt, before slamming back in. A sound tears from your throat, ragged and thin, warbling off as he sucks a dark mark onto you. It’s too high for your hotel uniform to cover, but Aventurine is getting increasingly committed to shredding your contract up with his own two hands. So it’s fine. No more uniform for you. He can mar your neck as he pleases. With that thought, and the squeeze of your cunt so wonderfully around his cock, he drags his tongue across the center of your throat, marking even higher on the other side. You keen, shatter, arch beneath him. 

The rhythm of his thrusts is careful; he wants to fuck you deep. Deep so you feel him where no one else can. It’s a tempting thought, one that feels too possessive and hungry to indulge, but he does anyway. He feels a little desperate, maybe. 

You moan into his ear, nip at it as he raises your hips for an even deeper angle. A sound punches out of your chest as he slides back into you. He imagines that your eyes are rolling back into your head. The thought makes him dangerously close for a moment, and he has to pause for a half second, collect himself, before fucking you with even more vigor than before. 

Your breath syncs. When you both inhale, your chests touch. You’re so, so close. Aventurine draws away from the hollow of your throat so he can look at you. He removes his hands from the backs of your knees and instead brackets his forearms around your head. 

It’s too vulnerable, too gut-turning to be this close and to be seen. He can practically see the blessed hues of his own eyes reflected in your glassy irises. Your lips are bitten, kiss-bruised, and slick. Rivulets of sweat collect around your collarbones and sternum. 

Your slick has drenched between your thighs, mixing with his pre too. A mix of you wets his cock, each slide so fucking hot and good.

He’s quite close, actually. The muscles in his abdomen tense. 

You can tell; his expression must change. Your hand dips between you, and he bats it away and touches you himself. He bears all of his weight on one arm and, in the slap of his hips against you, circles your soaked clit with shaking fingers. You tense up around him, your insides pulsing— you’re so close too—

It’s romantic to come at the same time, isn’t it?

It’s a half-formed thought as your cunt clenches around his cock, spasming, so, so wet and slick, he feels dizzy. He chases his release with a single thrust, buries himself to the hilt, as deep as he can go. A cry cracks from his lips, muffled into the side of your head. It sounds more like a sob than a moan. You shakily card your fingers through his hair, pressing your lips into his hair, over and over, smothering your sounds and hot breath into his undoubtedly mussed-up curls. 

Your cunt squeezes around him, and he gasps. The afterburn of orgasm has you both so sensitive.

Your fingertips skate almost his cheekbones, turning him to look at you, knocking your forehead against his own. It’s sweet, cat-like. It’s the sticky kind of affection that makes Aventurine feel out of his skin and cherish in tandem. It’s a lot. It’s too much. It makes his bones ache. He wants to vault out of bed, track down your scumlord of a boss, and slam down however many credits will break you from the invisible shackles of Kalaki Ios and its dense-metal core. 

There’s time for that later, he surmises. Not much, there are maybe thirty-two system hours left until he is set to leave. He has other business to wrap up, too. He’ll do it. He’ll do it all and gamble whatever he needs to drag you out of this place. 

For now, the quiet light of the hotel room lulls you both. You keep petting his head, holding him so hard that you’re shaking. You love putting on a tough act, but Aventurine has worried for a while about what would happen if he left. You’re strong, you’d be fine— but you would suffer. 

How dangerous it is to care about someone this way.

“We’ll need another bath,” you say.

Aventurine tilts you both, so you’re both lying your sides against the expensively fragranced bedsheets. He rubs over the marks he left you, already so dark with dottings of popped blood vessels. 

“We will,” he agrees. Probably a shower, this time. He can already see that you’re struggling to stay awake. He’ll clean you up if you doze. One cursory look between your legs confirms that spent is leaking out between your thighs. He’s certain that it’s getting cold.

For now, it’s just this, lingering close to each other, catching your breath, your pupils still blown and full of something that makes the core of Aventurine tremble.

...

Thirty system hours later, Aventurine is standing on a pier (ha) at Kalaki Ios' main astral hub. His usual vessel is idling for some brief refueling and maintenance checks. After that, he’ll board, and he’ll return home to the halls and board rooms of the Amber Lord and provide his long, wordy report about the successful acquisition of Kalaki Ios to Diamond and the others Stonhearts.

“Any luck?” he says, the tip of his index finger pressed into his earpiece.

Jade laughs, shimmery and curling from the earpiece, directly into his ear. It's a little unnerving, but familiar. “Who do you take me for? Little Kakavasha, please have more faith in me.”

Aventurine’s stomach turns at her casual usage of a name belonging to a dead child. He doesn’t say anything; silence speaks volumes. And Jade is familiar with such language. 

She can be very cruel, he knows. But today, she isn’t.

“The Nastani Corporation is in disarray after your masterful, albeit unsurprisingly masochistic, moves in the acquiring of Kalaki Ios. It wasn’t hard to make a few calls.”

“And?”

“Your catch is free to leave the planet,” Jade tells him. “I’d suggest that they do so hastily. I learned that they’re quite favored by a few of the inner Nastani family.” 

“Noted.” He figured. Aventurine pauses. “Thank you.”

“Why, of course, dear Aventurine,” she says. “I’m very happy to have a favor from you in my pocket to use at my leisure. It's quite the rarity, flower.”

A problem for later, he decides. Jade does nothing for free and is a burning soul sadist. But, future danger of it is worth it. To get you out of here is worth it.

Aventurine had confided his plan to you this morning, early, as the white dwarf dawn rose. He’d already spoken to Jade several times in the last day. She was pulling strings for him, and Aventurine was guarding them. Telling you was the final step—

There was a knot in his belly as he did. He hoped the extra fiber of his gloves hid the slight tremor of his hands.

(Because there was, of course, the reality where, despite the fact that you fucking hate this place, you’d still want to stay. And Aventurine could never, would never, force you away from your home if you didn’t want to leave.)

(Even if this place is a shithole, a lump of rock that’s being hollowed out for interests so much larger than your own, it’s still your home. You’ve lived here for so long; you grew here. You assumed that you’d die here. Even if it’s horrible, it’s still home to you.) 

It was terrifying to tell you. To keep his voice steady, his body calm as he told you— “One of my contacts nullified your contract.”

There was a beat or two of silence. A thump, thump of his heart that felt like cardiac arrest as your eyes widened. Your lips fell open, the fork that you had been holding clattered down onto your room service plate. Syrup from your pancake sticks in strings from the cakes to the metal of the utensil. 

It’s an easier thing to focus on than the cracking of your expression. The shaking in your voice, the disbelief, then the fucking elation. You launched yourself at him, breakfast forgotten. 

Everything from there had been... rushed, but easy. Your apartment is packed up into a comically small number of boxes by a service he had prepaid for the night before. You’re back at the hotel, briefly, to pick up a few things and say goodbye to a handful of coworkers. 

It all worked out as it so often does for him in the end. 

He gambled on Jade being able to break your contract so swiftly. He gambled on you wanting to leave Kalaki Ios and journey to Pier Point with him.

And, blessed be the Mother Goddess thrice, he placed his bets well. 

Fortune treats him differently; it always will, until he finally loses his last gamble and ends up in the bottom of a ditch somewhere, furs discolored and clothes muddied and tarnished. However, now, that ever-constant feeling of an impending disaster feels a little farther away as you jog up the pier, smiling at him so brightly. He returns it. He hopes the crew doesn't see it. The confirmation laced between his teeth that you're getting out of here— that's just for you and him.

(Allow him to covet it, Mother Goddess. The joy of it, shared.)

It’s so simple to catch you, only stumbling a little, and let you bury your face in his neck. An effervescent sound echoes from your throat into his own. It’s a happy thing, unbidden.

Aventurine squeezes you around your middle, hiding his expression in your hair.

He'll enjoy his winnings while he can.

thank you for reading 💗

[alloftheimagines]

abby anderson | positive, part ii

masterlist | part i

words: 2.7k warnings: pregnant!reader, pining, hurt/comfort, contractions, references to blood, death, fluff for once!!!!! but also then angst sorry synopsis: abby knows you shouldn't be on patrol at seventh months pregnant, but you refuse to sit this one out. a storm isn't the only thing that hits when the two of you seek shelter in the bookstore – and with contractions beginning, maybe it's time to admit that it isn't only friendship between you.

credit to @allmyfavesarementallyill for the bump holding idea!

tags: @hakandnsjoqmsn

The mirror’s reflection gives you pause today. You can’t remember when you got this big, only that your bump popped all at once a month or so ago and now it never seems to stop growing. It’s a good thing. A great thing. A strange thing, to feel the little guy moving, all elbows and feet, so you can’t help but want your old body back. Sharing it is exhausting. 

Abby appears in the doorway to your bedroom, faltering for a moment and then approaching you. You lock eyes in the mirror, wondering what she thinks when she looks at you now. She promised you a lot. More than she should have. You keep waiting for her to realise that this is real, that you’re having a baby, and dart the other way. The father sure as hell did. 

But she hasn’t yet, eyes softening with nothing but fondness. “You okay?” 

It’s the first, and last, thing she asks everyday. You nod, running a hand over your bump. “Other than nauseous, crampy, exhausted, sore, and struggling to breathe. Oh, and I look like shit.”

“You look beautiful.” Her arms slip around your waist, drawing light circles around your belly button. “You always do, but especially now.”

Your heart flutters. You and Abby have never discussed what this is. Why, over the months since discovering your pregnancy, she’s started sleeping in your bed, keeping the apartment clean where she never used to, even finding you a fucking crib for when the baby comes. She’s your best friend, sure, but sometimes…

Sometimes, you wish it was something else. You wouldn’t act on it. You’re a single mom-to-be, and she’s Abby, and if you ever lost her, it would devastate you. But if, god forbid, you did, you wouldn't want it to hold the extra heartbreak that would come if you were in a relationship. And you certainly wouldn’t want her to feel any more obligated to take care of you both than she already does. 

“The maternity pants fit okay?” she asks. 

You bow your head to admire the new elastic band sewn over your cargos. She stayed up all night, pricking her fingers and cussing out the needle, to make sure your old clothes fit over your bump. “Perfect. For now. I keep getting bigger.”

She smirks. “I think that’s sorta how it works, sweetheart.”

“It’s getting heavy,” you admit, pressing your spine just a little firmer into Abby’s chest. 

“Here.” She gently lifts your bump, and you sigh out at the relief it grants you. You forgot how it feels to not have a giant weight on your hips and lower back. Without meaning to, you rest the back of your head against Abby’s shoulder, humming. With your eyes fluttering shut, you don’t see her watching the pleasure it brings. Don’t see the satisfaction crossing her features because at least she gets to help you this much, even if the rest is up to you. Don’t see the adoration, because she loves you like this. You're becoming, day by day, a softer, more vulnerable version of yourself as you prepare for parenthood, and there is nothing but beautiful strength in that. Maybe a bit of magic, too, because she is watching you create a human you're both going to adore.

“Feels so good,” you admit. 

“Yeah? How about you go back to bed? Should get as much rest as you can.”

"We have patrol in…” You check your wristwatch and curse. “Now.”

Abby frowns. “You signed up again?”

“I’ve still got two months left. I’m not going to spend them sitting on my ass, feeling sorry for myself.” You bat her hands away, skirting around her to grab your pack. Partly because you’re late, and partly because you’re in love with your best friend, and it fucking hurts sometimes — way more than the aches and pains of pregnancy.

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea,” Abby admits.

You spin defiantly on her. "I’m grateful that you’re taking care of me through all this, but please don’t start treating me like I’m weak.”

“I’m not treating you like you’re weak. I’m treating you like you’re pregnant.” She grits her teeth. “If we get caught up in something, it’s not just you we have to think about.”

“I can take care of myself. Of us both.” You shuck on your backpack. Ignore the twinge in your lower back. You’ve never sat out of patrols, and you’re not about to start now. You’re looking forward to being a mother, yes, but you don’t intend to slow down until you have to.

Abby says your name, a chastising grunt. 

You glower, and it’s enough to make her stand down. Begrudgingly.

“As long as I can still stand and pull a trigger, I’m good to go.” To prove it, you grab your gun from the bedside table and load the bullets. Abby bristles with each click. 

“So fucking stubborn,” she mutters, but there’s nothing but love there. She grabs your bump, kneels to say: “Did you hear that, Squirt? Your mom’s stubborn as hell.”

You purse your lips, trapping a laugh. It’s adorable when Abby talks to the baby. Makes you think of a future where she gets to hold them, love them, probably help them break your rules and teach them a shit ton of pranks. 

“You two done talking shit about me?” you quip.

“Nope.” Abby continues, “But it’s okay, ‘cos she’s strong as hell, too. Just don’t give her any problems today, ‘kay?” And then to you: “Okay, now we’re done.”

“Great. Thanks.”

She chuckles, grabbing your coat before you can forget it. Taking care of you, because it’s all she ever wants to do.

***

She shouldn’t have let you come. The streets of Seattle have become canals in little over four hours, and all she can do is shove you into the nearest building to protect you from the relentless rain. Thunder cracks and lightning rips through the black clouds, and it’s not safe, she thinks. If the Scars find the two of you now, you’ll be at a disadvantage, clothes heavy, teeth chattering, limbs numb. 

She shouldn’t have fucking let you come.

“Fuck,” you breathe, taking your dripping hair out of your eyes. “Didn’t think it was gonna be this bad.” 

“We'll have to wait for it to pass. It’s too dangerous out there.” If you weren’t here, or at least not pregnant, she might have risked it, but not now. If this baby has taught her anything, it’s the art of caution. 

You look like you want to argue, but in the end, you’re shivering too vigorously to even try. You drop your pack, Abby barricading the doors while you look around. As far as hiding places go, this one isn’t too bad: an old bookstore.  It'll keep you entertained, at least.

“Sit down,” Abby orders, nodding to the armchair by one of the collapsed shelves. 

“You sit down,” you retort, and she almost bares her teeth. Usually, your refusal to let her care for you is cute, but you’re both drenched and hungry, and you’re growing a whole fucking human — one who she intends to love as ferociously as she does you, by the way — inside you, so why can’t you just listen?

Her muscles strain as she shoves tables, chairs, bookcases, up against the door, going through way more effort than she usually would to make sure that nothing is getting in.

You huff, peeling off your coat and draping it over the bannister of a rickety staircase. “Gonna go make sure we’re clear in here,” you say. 

“Like hell you are,” Abby growls out. “Not on your own.”

“Abby,” you snap. And then pause, face scrunching with something that looks too much like pain. 

Abby’s by your side in seconds, panic rattling through her. “What? What is it?”

You turn away from her. It breaks something in her. “Nothing. Just one of those Braxton Hicks thingies.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

But she isn’t, because you do the unthinkable. You sit down. She gulps, reaching in her pack for water and snacks she packed in a hurry: peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, because you’ve been craving them like a mad woman for weeks. She damn near searched every building in the city to find the crunchy version when the smooth just wasn’t cutting it. 

She kneels, fingers caressing the damp fabric over your belly. “Hey, Squirt. Thought I told you not to give her any problems,” she chides.

You half laugh, half whine, and Abby’s thumb smooths over the wrinkle of your brow as though it might chase away the pain. “We need to get you warm.”

“I’m fine,” you repeat exasperatedly. “Go check the damn building.”

Abby rolls her eyes, standing up. “Fine. Drink your water.”

“Fine,” you mimic, and then you’re both smirking, because you know this anger comes from only love, and you know that since losing her dad, she feels the need to clutch onto you with both hands. 

You’ll always let her, even when it makes her a pain in the ass. 

Abby checks the building thoroughly if only to stop herself from hovering and pissing you off more. She returns fifteen minutes later with a pile of children’s books in her hands. The Hungry Caterpillar, The Gruffalo, books she remembers Jerry reading to her as a kid. 

She’s excited to show you, until she finds you hunched over yourself, breathing heavily while leaning on a shelf for support. 

Not just Braxton Hicks.

“Baby…” The endearment slips out as she drops the books and kneels in front of you again. “Hey. Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Getting worse,” you grind out, pale in the darkness. “They don’t feel like fake contractions this time.”

“Okay.” She allows herself just a moment to suck in a breath, find her composure, and then she’s brushing hair from your cheek, steady as a rock because it’s what you need, even if there’s a tempest crashing in her stomach. “It’s okay. Didn’t Nora say this could happen? Contractions can start and stop for a while before labour becomes active.”

“I don’t… I don’t know. I’m scared, Abby. It’s too early.”

“You don’t need to be scared. I’m right here.” She cups your jaw. “Let’s give them another ten minutes, see if they settle, yeah?”

You nod, lower lip wobbling. “You were right. You were fucking right.”

“Always am.”

“Shut up,” you hiss. 

She guides you over to the armchair again, helping you sit. Your gaze snags on something behind her. “What are those?”

“Hm?” Abby barely registers your question, too focused on you, your pain, the fact the baby might be coming and you’re stranded in a flood, at least ten blocks from the nearest WLF base. 

“The books.”

“Oh." She shrugs. "Got them for Squirt.”

You soften all at once, tears glistening in your eyes as, gently, you comb the errant strands of Abby’s hair off her face. She stiffens in surprise at first. Usually, she’s the one initiating contact. But then she realises how good it feels, how right, and she leans into your touch as fire licks over her cheek. 

“I love you,” you whisper, “d’you know that?”

She can hear her heart thud in her ears, louder than the thunder and the rain. And maybe she didn’t know that. Maybe she has thought, at least since her dad died, that she doesn’t really deserve it. She’s killed. She’s paused seeking justice to take care of you, leaving Jerry’s murderer out there, living. She’s done things for Isaac that have left her bloody and unrecognisable. 

And she was so angry. She still is, sometimes, but it’s easier to forget when she looks at you.

A few weeks back, she got a lead on Joel. Wyoming. She went home intending to tell you that she would set off the next day, but the baby kicked at the sound of her voice and you were laughing, and she couldn’t. She has put aside vengeance for the sake of this strange, small family the two of you are curating from stupid jokes and gentle touch and rotting nursery furniture she gathers on runs. 

She’s never done it to hear those words. To think differently of herself. She does it because you are her constant, and because she wouldn’t have fought her way through the trenches of her grief without you. 

Because she loves you, too, and the life you’re creating. 

Her cheek twists so she can kiss your clammy palm. She wants more of you. Hopes that maybe it can exist one day, when you aren’t going through so many changes and the city isn’t fractured by war. But then she thinks of all the bodies she sees on a daily basis, and wonders: why not now? What if she doesn’t survive long enough for that day to come?

“I’m in love with you,” she admits. “And now is an awful time to say it, but really, there’s never a right time, so… before Squirt comes along — not today, y'here? — and before everything changes, I need you to know it, okay? I’m in love with you. I think maybe we could work. I mean, we already are working, right? We live together, and we sleep in the same bed most nights, and I love this baby. I want this baby.”

Your mouth parts in shock, your hand falling from her cheek, and she has ruined everything. She has tried to make this baby about her.

She pushes out of her squat, wishing she could take it all back when the thick silence suffocates. “God, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Abby—”

“Ignore it, okay? This, what we have right here, is enough. More than enough. I’m gonna go see if I can get through to base.” 

“Abs, wait. I'm—” You grapple to stand up, only to crease as another wave of pain wracks through you. "Oh, god!”

Abby darts to you again, hands hovering because she doesn’t know what to do. She can bandage wounds and heal your broken heart and fight like hell to keep you alive, but she can’t stop whatever this is. 

Your arms loop around her neck, tight, like you’re afraid she might disappear, her braid fisted in your hands.

“Breathe for me, sweetheart. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“No. No, I think the baby’s coming.” Tears roll down your cheeks. “I can’t do this now. Please, not now.”

“Listen to me,” she begs, fingers curling at the nape of your neck. “I’ve got you. I’m not going to let anything happen to either of you, you hear me?”

“What if something’s wrong?” you fret through chattering teeth. "What if this means the baby's not okay—"

“Nothing’s wrong. The baby's perfect.” Abby plants her hands on your bump, as though a gentle nudge might convince the baby to stop. Stay there a little while longer. She feels when your stomach tightens with another contraction, a guttural keen falling from you as you use her for support. 

Her heart leaps into her throat, worse when she sees the damp across your cargos. This soaked, she has no idea if your waters have broken, but while her pants have dried slightly, yours haven’t.

“I need to radio base,” she decides, which will be hard considering there was no fucking signal last time she tried upstairs. 

The contraction must ease, because your grip on her loosens. “This isn’t happening,” you’re murmuring over and over. “This can’t be happening.”

“You gotta sit back down for me. You wanna lay on the floor?”

“No. No, I can’t.” You’re panicking, and so is she, but only one of you is allowed to show it, so she bites her cheek and keeps you upright as she pulls out her walkie. As before, the signal crackles. She tries to tune in, announcing herself on every station, but there’s nothing.

“Fucking storm,” she hisses. 

“Abby.” You’re saying her name again and again like it’s all you can grasp, forehead resting against her shoulder.

“I’m here,” she’s saying back. 

“Abby, I’m in love with you, too.” A mangled sob falls from you as you fight to look at her like it’s something important. Like she’s important, even in the midst of this. “We’re yours, okay? So if something happens, if I don’t make it, now or ever, you’re still a mother. Squirt's still yours.”

It's everything she's wanted to hear, only it's tainted by the idea of losing you. Her eyes shutter as she states, “No.”

“No? But you just said—”

“If you’re going to tell me that, it’s not going to be because you think you’re going to give birth here and die. I’m getting you to fucking base. Get your shit. You can tell me again when we’re home and safe.” Because she will get you home, and nothing will stop her. Not the storm, not contractions, not the fucking baby. 

She puts the books in her bag, because she intends to read them to you both tonight, regardless of whether the baby is here or still growing inside you. And then she helps you with your coat, takes your pack on her shoulders over her own, and she pushes away the barricaded furniture with a new, fierce determination. 

She just got a family. She doesn’t intend to lose it.

[aveocadeo]

Canvas of the sea. [Monkey D. Luffy x artist! gn! reader]

Being the artist of Sunny meant you had the freedom to put anything on a canvas. Drawing Luffy brought not only you two closer, but it gave you a happiness that was indescribable.

a/n: this was based from @bubblyluffy's blog (couldn't seem to tag them but yes), so i gave it a try. here was the idea.

A golden dawn casted gentle light across the deck of the Thousand Sunny. The sea glimmered with promises as it was another day in the Grand Line filled with wonder and unpredictability.

You rose early as you were slipping out of your cabin with sketchpad and pencils tucked under your arm. When you first joined the Straw Hats weeks ago, you were greeted with curiosity by your crew mates. You were shown nothing but kindness. And that kindness came thickest from Luffy, whose boundless enthusiasm matched his appetite.

You made your way up to the figurehead where Luffy often lounged on the sunny deck of the ship, half-asleep. Although today, he was sitting upright with a wide grin and eyes alight. "Morning!" he called with voice sleepy but happy. "What are you drawing today?"

You let the pages flutter open. "I thought I'd sketch the sunrise". The way the light plays on the sea... and well you", you said as you pressed the pad toward him. His grin widened further when he saw his lopsided smile getting captured perfectly in soft lines.

He peered closer, making the sketchpad tilt a bit. "That's me?" he traced the pencil strokes with his finger. "Neat!"

You nodded as a blush was creeping onto your neck and face. Luffy looked so peaceful here. No battles, nor pirates. It was just the soft sea breeze and possibilities. Your heart fluttered.

"Draw me in different positions!" he demanded with an excitement that could make anyone soften. "Draw me eating meat or running around!" he laughed.

With a laugh that was coming from you, you flipped to a fresh page and began sketching while he struck various poses. There was one with a big hunk of meat. Another with him mid-leaping and arms stretched wide. He was posing energetically, bounding from side to side until you were drawing him with his straw hat flying off and mouth wide in laughter at himself.

As the deck brightened, the other Straw Hats began stirring. Nami appeared while rubbing sleep from her eyes. "You're up early, Y/N", she said, nodding at your sketches. "Let me see".

Your chest warmed at her interest. Nami scanned the page where Luffy was mid-leaping. She smirked at the drawing and shot out a quick comment. "Cute", she said.

Luffy landed with a soft thud. His face was looking very pleased with himself. "Our artist made me look cool!" he grinned. Sanji ambled over next as he was holding a plate of hot breakfast. "Eat while you work, sweetheart", he teased while handing you a warm croissant. "You're fueling inspiration".

You accepted gratefully, munching and sketching side-by-side with the rest of the crew drifting around. Zoro was slouching nearby, half asleep. Chopper peeked at your drawings with shy delight. Usopp offered some suggestions for funny poses. "Maybe Luffy going ka-boom when he eats too much meat?" he suggested.

You giggled and decided to add a cartoonish KA-BOOM balloon next to Luffy's face in one sketch. He laughed so hard he almost choked on his bacon.

Your favourite spot to draw was the lighthouse isle you had just discovered. It was tall white stone, perched on a cliff like a silent sentinel. The town nearby was humming with life of fishermen, merchants and children chasing kites.

You and Luffy had gone ashore together after breakfast to explore and gather supplies for the crew. Now you settled beneath the lighthouse with seagulls weaving overhead. You set up your easel and paints as Luffy perched next to you. He was watching you curiously. "What's painting like?" he asked, head tilting.

"It's like drawing but with colours you mix yourself", you explained as you were dipping your brush into the blue paint. "See, this is sea foam and this is sky gradient", you said.

He moved too close, inadvertently tipping a tube of red paint. It rolled and spurted a splash across your page and you gasped. Luffy froze. "I'm sorry, Y/N!"

But then you looked at where the red splattered. Your mind came up with a great idea. You could turn it into a sunset sky behind the sea, blending with purple and orange tones. As the accident inspired you, you painted fast, turning that tiny accident into something beautiful.

Luffy watched wide-eyed. "That's so cool!"

You finished the scene: the bold strokes of deep orange with the lilac whispers of twilight. The lighthouse stood tall as if it was almost glowing against the vivid backdrop. The sea reflected it all.

Luffy clapped softly as he was staring at you with awe. "You're amazing".

You felt warmth fill up your chest at how he genuinely meant it. Luffy was always so positive and encouraging. How could anyone hate this man?

Back aboard Sunny, you brought the painting to show everyone. The crew gathered and admired the vivid dusk. Franky gave you a thumbs-up. Brook hummed a complimenting tune as Robin smiled softly. Jinbe gave you an approving nod.

Luffy studied it, then turned to you. "Paint me like that one day. When we go on adventures and come back safe", he said with a smile.

Your breath caught at the sincerity in his voice. You set the painting aside and sketched quickly in your sketchpad. It was a small portrait of him standing firm as the straw hat shadow cross his determined grin. A warm sunset glow behind.

That night, you stepped out onto the deck just to take a look of the stars. Luffy appeared from the galley with two bowls of fruits. It was his dessert. He joined you without a word, settling beside you.

You ate quietly as you felt the sea's hush around you. It didn't take a while before Luffy took the first word. "Y/N...", he paused and looked at your sketchpad. "Thank you".

"For what?"

"For making me feel... like I'm part of something pretty". He tapped the page lightly. You looked down. The sketch of Luffy framed by pastel skies and his silhouette soft but determined.

Your heart was fluttering. "For making the day pretty? You're part of the day", you said softly.

He grinned with eyes bright. Without hesitation, he leaned over and kissed your cheek quickly but softly. You blinked, breath stilled. Luffy chuckled. "Good night, Y/N".

You stayed there, heart pounding. While you were gazing at the stars above Sunny and the sea whispering peace below, you felt cherised. It was like your art and your presence was needed on this ship. In this crew.

Next day on the figurehead, you continued your painting project. You were capturing the new sunrise in pastel hues. Luffy joined again, plopping down beside you as his head was resting on your shoulder. He hummed happily. You sketched his peaceful profile first, then painted lightly over hair and hat.

With each gentle brushstroke, your feelings wove into your art. Soft affection, quiet joy and hopeful certainty. When you laid the final strokes, you showed him the finished piece. The sunrise behind him with sky ablaze with pink and hold.

He turned and got surprised that he moved from your shoulder. "That's beautiful".

"That's how I see you", you whispered. Luffy's grin softened into something tender. "Then Y/N... I like seeing with you", he said.

You blushed and leaned in, pressing your brush to the canvas one last time to mimic his smile. He leaned in too, his chin brushing your hair and held his breath.

Then he exhaled just enough to make your hair sway. You smiled shyly. "Thank you for everything", you said.

He chuckled quietly. "I'm the lucky one".

@/2025 ave

[loveroffemmes]

The Hunt | Shauna Shipman x Fem!Reader

warnings: one-shot, angst, death/murder bc hunt, choking, no fluff

summary: shauna is no longer the person you fell in love with before the crash, she's changed and it seems like she hardly recognizes you or herself.

“She’s gone crazy, we need to do something about her.” Mari whispered, her voice not daring to raise any higher than the wind blowing through the trees.

“Does she really want to do another hunt? For fucks sake, we are going to kill off our entire team before rescue at this rate.” Natalie replied, a hand running through her mostly brown hair. Her hair had started to look a little gray these days, I think the stress of it all finally hit. I think the second Lottie put that axe through that guy’s skull, Natalie lost it. 

“It’s Shauna, she wouldn’t actually go through with it. When Natalie pulled the Queen card, we only tried to hunt her because we were hungry. Now, we’re all fed and…things are just different.” 

“You’re in denial.” Gen spoke up, “You’re too fixated on the Shauna you knew before we crashed. You’re too fixated on Shauna-your-girlfriend and not Shauna now.”

Shauna’s loud whistling broke up our meeting. She wouldn’t really do it. She was all talk, no action. Looking at the girls surrounding me, they seemed to not agree. Their faces were pale and the silence that fell was unlike any other. 

We stomped through the snow, making our way towards Shauna, Lottie, Taissa, and Van. Van was shuffling the deck of cards in her hand, a solemn look etched on her face. She couldn’t be serious. None of them could be serious. Natalie’s hunt was for food, it wasn’t really for a sacrifice! 

“Get in a circle.” Shauna demanded, her voice laced with excitement. 

Everyone did as she said. Van held out the cards for each person to draw, her head held low as she did so. Person after person, each drawing and holding up a card. 

God, the relief I felt when Shauna didn’t draw the Queen. Even if she insisted we do this hunt; I don’t think I could bear to lose her, much less see her get hunted. 

I picked the card up, holding it next to my face before looking at it for myself. The Queen. 

“We’re not seriously going to do this—” Mari tried to speak, but Lottie cut her off. 

“It’s what the Wilderness wants, isn’t it?” 

Shauna wasted no time in counting down, a smile planted on her face as she did so. 

“R-Run, (Y/n)!” Natalie shoved me, trying to snap me out of my shock before Shauna counted to zero. 

I ran. I ran until my legs hurt. I ran until it hurt to breathe. It didn’t matter, Shauna had always been the fastest out of all of us. I just never imagined she would be using her speed to do this. 

There was nowhere for me to go. I turned to face Shauna, praying that it was all some kind of horrible dream that I would wake up from, that maybe she would see my face and see the me from before the crash, just like how I see the her from before the crash. 

Those big, brown eyes seemed so dark now. Her lips thinned as she smiled, it was eerie and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t picture her normal smile, it had been a long time since I had seen it. 

Shauna stepped towards me, dropping the weapon she had picked out and raising her hands to her face to pull down the makeshift mask she made out of a torn Wiskayok hat.

“Shauna, you don’t have to do this…We can survive this winter, we know how to now.” My words fell on deaf ears. Shauna took another step closer and I didn’t bother to run. Maybe I was too tired, maybe I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction. 

Shauna lunged at me as though I was her prey. 

With her hands around my neck, it no longer felt like Shauna. 

I had ignored it all for way too long. I had pretended that it was all okay when Shauna was drifting further and further from not only me; but from her innocence, from her sanity. 

I was nothing more than the next meal and I was too blindsided by who I had known before the crash to realize. 

I always assumed Shauna was still Shauna underneath all of the anger. Was I too stupid to realize what was happening? Was I simply holding onto the only thing that was keeping me through the seasons – the thought that Shauna was still the doe eyed sweetheart who nervously took my hand before every game? 

Those same hands wrapped around my neck, stripping me of the life I had built with her.

masterlist

[starlightshadowsworld]

You know I don’t talk about Yosano even she’s one of my favourite characters.

So here’s just a Yosano ramble/ appreciation post whatever you wanna call it.

Bones does not do her justice

Like at all.

I love the entire concept of her ability so much. I mean a doctor who has to hurt her patients in order to save them. It’s cool as hell on its own but then you add in her backstory.

And it becomes something incredible.

The way that her life has been defined by saving others and that the worth of human life is what she still believes in so strongly.

Even after all she’s been through that value for life has never wavered.

I love that Yosano’s most defining characteristic is her kindness. That she holds people so tightly because she’s afraid not that they’ll break. But what could happen if she fixes them.

It’s an interesting path for a character especially one with her ability to carry.

Not to mention that with Fukuzawa and Ranpo as the founders, Yosano is the first member of the Armed Detective Agency. She joined a year after it was founded and as such has played a vital part in what the Agency has become.

I love how much Yosano delights in the chaos around her. How she always seems like the voice of reason when in actuality she makes things 10X worse before fixing the problem.

It’s true to her ability and it’s true to her.

She’s such a menace. I love seeing a healing character just go off the rails. I love the way Yosano doesn’t shy away from bloodshed but actively enjoys it.

How utterly unhinged she can be like Bones changed the scene but when that guy at the train station (chapter 7) tried to slap her she crushed his hand.

And said “well a thousand pardons sir. Would it be more womanly for me to crush your puny XXX under my heel like my heel perhaps?”

Queen.

Ah the days when everything could be fixed by Yosano scaring a guy into defeat.

Good times.

And I love putting her with characters that I feel can match her energy but also balance her out.

Unfortunately for me I don’t ship what I believe is her most popular pairing. No hate to Kousano shippers I just don’t vibe with it personally.

Folk I ship with Yosano are:

Kajii because I just like the idea of a mad scientist obsessed with defeating death with a doctor who wants nothing more than to save others.

That they’d start as rivals but they’d start to see why the other feels the way that they do. And maybe it would draw them closer to each other.

Margaret because they’re both people who will do whatever it takes to protect their loved ones. No matter what the personal cost may be.

They’re very intimidating people with a strong and noble heart. I think Yosano would ruffle her feathers and reveal a more playful side to Margaret. And that Margaret would respect Yosano’s drive and resolve.

Chuuya because their fight to me sounded like they were flirting. Like I see them going out to get drunk together, match each others freak and go out on the town.

But most importantly I think they just have a lot in common. Both of them have a history of being viewed as tools for their abilities. They have had to deal with the hatred and almost worship others give their abilities.

In a way that undermines and erases their humanity. They’ve grappled with their own identities and the deaths that follow them for it.

Kunikida because they’re very opposite personality wise and yet hold a lot of respect for one another. He trusts her with his life and she trusts in him.

They’ve both known each other for years and presumably have often fought alongside each other. I think they’d balance each other out with Yosano getting him to unwind and Kunikida looking out for her too.

Also you can’t convince me he wasn’t the reason she started carrying the chainsaw.

As far as friendships go I love her and Ranpo’s friendship. The way she looked out for Atsushi on the train. That Fukuzawa tried to spare her from Mori’s grasp. I have a headcanon that she trained Kenji and it’s sweet seeing the bonds she has with others.

I also had an AU called Moonlit Butterfly that centred around Yosano and Atsushi participating in the Great War. With Yosano as a medic as she is in canon and Atsushi bought in (a year younger then her in this btw) as a soilder.

And how the two navigate that with Shunzen Tachihara.

I may be bringing it back at some point in the form of a collection of one-shots with other AYs. But I thought I’d give it a mention here because I do go in lto my version of Yosano within that.

And yeah I just think that Yosano is a great character and that she deserves more love.

[xmevaaiu]

🅸🆃 🆆🅸🅻🅻 🅴🅽🅳 🆆🅸🆃🅷 🆄🆂

ᴘᴀʀᴛ 6

𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝟣      𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝟤       𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝟥       𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝟦       𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝟧 𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝟨

𝒯𝓌: 𝒮𝓌𝑒𝒶𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓈𝓊𝒾𝒸𝒾𝒹𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒷𝑒𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓈𝓊𝒾𝒸𝒾𝒹𝒶𝓁, 𝒽𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻, 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒻𝒾𝒸 𝒾𝓈 𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓉𝓉𝓎 𝒹𝒶𝓇𝓀 𝓈𝑜 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒸𝓁𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝑜𝒻, 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒷𝑒 𝓈𝓂𝓊𝓉 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝑜𝓃𝓁𝓎 𝒽𝒶𝓁𝒻𝓌𝒶𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝑒𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑒𝓃𝒹, 𝓃 𝓈𝓉𝓊𝒻𝒻𝒻𝒻

Summary:

Your burnt-out waitress with a painful past and a short fuse has a terrible day at work—until a mysterious teal-haired stranger shows up, insults her, and then offers you a way out. Little did he know you have a little secret of your own. What starts as a hostile exchange quickly unravels into something strange… and maybe life-changing.

Masterlist ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

You watch the two pigs slurp up ramen like they haven’t ate in a week. 

“Are yall going to explain my position, or am I just going to watch you two eat like pigs?”

Baby pipes up not looking up from this food. “Cut us some slack. We haven’t eaten this before.” 

“Yeah and it’s so good!” Abby says looking up unlike baby and gives you a small smile. “This was a good place. Thanks for the suggestion.”

“Thanks for the glaze, but please explain the position.”

“Dang fine.” Baby put down his empty bowl to the side and leans in looking hard at you. “You will be our groups manager, clean up scandals, and arrange fan meets.”

You breathe a sigh of relief. “Ok that seems easy enough. Anything else?”

Abby speaks with hesitation in his voice. “Uh yeah. So… your will have to live with us. Just so we can communicate with you quickly and efficiently. But the pays good, free food, free room that pretty big and we won’t cause any trouble. Deal?”

“Daym, way to stop a bomb. But pushing that aside. You said group? What group?”

“Kpop group.”

“Oh.”

“Well, do you accept or not?” Baby looks at you with anticipation.

I can’t risk not having money and getting kicked out. “Yes.”

Abby freezes. “Didn’t expect you to say yes but, hey less work for us hey! You going to have to meet the others, so why not do it now? Yeah. C’mon let’s go.” He gets up and so does Baby. 

You get up and ask, “So where do you guys live around? I have to make sure it’s near my parents.”

“It’s pretty close.” Baby grabs your arm again but not with as much force he did when he was dragging you into the alleyway. 

“You really like dragging people huh?” 

“Yeah I do.” He turns his head and smirks.

Abby fiddles with his jean pockets. “Baby where are you keys?”

Baby pulls it out under his sweater. “Here.”

You look at the logo on the eyes and-

“McLaren?!?” You squeak.

Baby looks down and frowns. “Why, you don’t like it?”

“No, no, no it’s just that…. It’s such an expensive car.” Baby stops dragging you and pressed the button on the car keys. You slowly look in front to see a McLaren Senna XP. Your jaw falls to the gravel as you stare at the car in awe. 

Baby see’s your expression and asked, “You like it?”

“Hell yah, it’s one of my dream cars. It’s beautiful.” You pick up your jaw from the floor. 

Baby opens the door for you. “Get in. Me and Abby will give you a tour of the apartment and the others. The sooner the better.” 

“Okay.” You get in the car and Baby closes the door. Abby hops in the front passenger seat and Baby’s in the driver seat. You pull out your phone and see a text from Kai.

Kai: how’s the interview going?

Me: Good, I got the job!

You get out of messages and open up Spotify. You tap on São Paulo by the Weeknd, thinking your headphones were connected to your phone. But Lo and behold the song plays out loud. 

The Abby turned around and asked, “Is that São Paulo?”

“Yeah it is, my bad. I thought it was connected to my headphones, but it disconnected.” 

“Don’t worry, we’re vibin’, right Baby?”

Baby just mumbled, “Mhm.” You don’t know what about him, but somethings drawing you to him. “It’s a good song.”

You feel bold and you ask, “Can I put on my playlist? It’s kinda awkward sitting in silence.”

Baby was silent for a few second’s before answering. “Put one something good.” 

“Okay.” You move to connect the Bluetooth on your phone to the car but Abby already did it. “Oh, thanks, Abby!”

“You’re welcome.” 

You wait for your phone to connect, and play Golden by Huntrix. Baby snarls, catching you off guard.

“Nah. Turn that shit off, or put in something better.” Baby stares daggers into your soul and Abby starts cracking up. 

“Abby, shut up before I shove a pipe bomb down your throat. Baby ask nicely and I’ll reconsider.” 

Abby looked at you conflicted and Baby exhaled. “Please put on another song.”

You smiled at him through the mirror. “See? That wasn’t too hard.” You tap a few times on your phone and set on Popular by The Weeknd and Madonna. 

Baby visibly relaxes and Abby starts bobbing his head to the music. You stare in front of you, zoning out until Baby opened his big fat mouth. “You trying to burn a hole in my head by staring, y/n?”

“Huh? No?” Your reply confused. 

“We’re here! Finally I can gym. Baby you take tour y/n on the little tour right? Right. Toodles!” Abby practically jumped out of the car and took off. 

“Abby, get your ass back here before I whoop you!” Baby calls out, his head poking out of the car. You giggle and then look out of the car yourself. Once again your jaw is on the floor.

[afewproblems]

(New Psych WIP) Where There's Smoke, There's Murder

Part One: Loose Threads (Read on AO3)

“You're staring again”.

All it takes are those three little words to ruin his day. 

Carlton grits his teeth and drops his gaze back to the mountain of paperwork in front of him, ignoring the huff Juliet makes from her desk. He forces his head down, determined to keep his eyes safely glued to the photos from their most recent case.

A case that, by all accounts, should have Carlton’s full attention:

Two bodies without any leads or threads to pull at, and so far neither victim seems related to each other.

The timeline seems to move through two distinct phases, beginning with a disappearance from the victims home. No fingerprints, and minimal evidence of a struggle except for a single used matchstick on the pillow of the missing person’s bed. 

The second phase ends two weeks later when the body is found deceased in the home they disappeared from, tucked into bed as though merely sleeping. The truly weird thing is the matchbooks, missing a single match, left in the victim's mouth. 

Both murders were cleanly executed, and certainly premeditated.

Which is about the only conclusion they have so far. 

Carlton lifts his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, letting his eyes close for just a moment before opening them at the sound of another file thwacking the top of his growing pile of paperwork. Carlton sighs as he lifts his gaze to the Junior Detective. 

He likes Juliet --well, likes is maybe a stretch. 

He appreciates O’Hara as a partner. Over the last year that they’ve gotten to know each other Carlton’s discovered that she is a fast learner, if a bit naive at times, based on her tolerance for tweedle dee and tweedle dumber. She is opinionated but not judgemental, which balances out Carlton's own habit of writing things off too quickly every now and again. 

On the other hand, quick judgements in the field have saved his bacon more times than he can count over his career, so maybe he’s owed a few.  

But, it’s not like they’re friends or anything, she’s his partner, a damn good colleague, and that’s enough for them. 

Juliet tilts her head towards the foyer where she had caught his wandering gaze earlier, “I mean I get it, he definitely doesn't need to be here,” she says just loud enough for him to hear her over the general buzz of the station, “but it's kind of sweet, like watching a lost puppy or something”. 

Carlton scowls in response but says nothing as movement by the foyer draws both their gazes once again, just in time to see Shawn waving goodbye to a tall man who reluctantly waves back as he finally exits the building. 

The worst part about this whole thing is that no one else seems to agree with Carlton --not that he’s advertised his opinion to anyone but Juliet, but come on. 

Even Guster doesn't seem annoyed, despite the way this stranger has seemingly wormed his way into their lives. Distracting everyone with his presence, all gangly limbs and fancy blazers, with a new murderer on the loose? 

It’s irresponsible is what it is.

Normally Shawn and Guster with their persistent antics, and constant proximity to department cases, would be enough to make Carlton question his choice in career for willingly working with the phoney psychic, but his ire has been mostly directed at another source lately.

Shawn Spencer's apparent new boyfriend.

It wouldn't be a big deal if the other man simply stayed in his lane, dropping off his partner for work, like Buzz's fiance does, before, and most importantly, leaving without popping inside for a lengthy visit.

The man doesn't bring anything to the table other than awkward small talk and a bad habit of playing with his wire framed glasses whenever someone looks him in the eyes for too long. 

Sure, the man is tall, if you like that sort of thing, and on the thinner side. The sweater vests and perfectly pressed collared shirts make him look like a nerdier Chandler Bing more than anything --and that can't be anyone's type.

Honestly, how Spencer put up with someone so, so, milquetoast, was beyond him. 

Carlton brought it up only once with O'Hara after a long day, and has regretted it ever since given the number of times she's taken to lightly defending the other man to him.

“He seems nice, isn't that enough Carlton? It's like you're jealous or something”.

Which was so insulting that Calrton didn't speak to her for a day and a half, only grunting out a pale acknowledgement when Juliet brought him a peace offering from the fancy cafe that would have been way out of her normal route to work. 

Because he isn't jealous.

Jealous of what? Some gangly limbed, dork who managed to somehow snag the biggest idiot on the planet? 

Just who the hell was he supposed to be jealous of?? Typically one had to want something in order to be jealous and Carlton sure as hell didn't want Spencer. 

Ridiculous.

“Jules! Lassie, how are my favorite detectives?”

Carlton groans, speaking of ridiculous. 

He watches as Shawn bounds over, a spring in his step and over-styled bed-head that looks as though fingers were only just removed from where they roughly ran over his scalp. Carlton shakes himself at the strange thought and hurries to shuffle the papers and photos together, closing the case file before Spencer can get any closer. 

Guster trails behind him, hands in his pockets and an apologetic half smile on his face as he nods at Juliet and Carlton. 

“I was just telling Gus here” Shawn says as he claps a hand on the other man's shoulder, “that the four of us should try out for Family Feud, I think we'd make an incorrigible team”.

Guster rolls his eyes as he lifts his hand to remove Shawns from his shoulder, “I think you mean incredible and that's for families, Shawn”.

Shawn shrugs as he takes a strange half step hop that lands him on top of Carlton's desk, pushing several paper piles into one another and making the pencils in his SBPD Annual Summer Picnic mug jump nearly out of their home. Carlton reaches out to halt the movement of papers, clenching his fists to stop himself from pushing Spencer away from his new perch. The last thing he needs is another warning from Vick about putting his hands on the consultant. 

“I've heard it both ways and since when are we not a family? We could be cousins, brothers and sisters from other misters--”

“Spencer,” Carlton bites out as the paper piles on his desk shift again when Shawn turns fully to face him, a thousand watt grin stretched across his stupid face. 

“Get off my damn desk”.

Shawn opens his mouth as he leans in closer, no doubt some asinine rebuttal on the tip of his idiot tongue, a cheshire smile pulling at his lips that slowly creates soft crinkles at the corners of his hazel eyes --or are they green, it’s harder to tell from this close--

“Lassiter, O’Hara,” Vick calls from her open doorway just outside the bullpen, startling himself and Shawn enough that the psychic nearly tumbles off the desk in his haste to pull away.

Carlton looks away to find Juliet staring at him, eyebrows raised. Guster meanwhile has pulled Shawn up, hissing emphatically into his partner's ear as the pair start something resembling a vicious whisper fight.

A few other beat cops appear to be watching the four of them from their desks with amused expressions, until they meet Carlton’s glare. Barnes and Lovelle hastily attempt to cover up their eavesdropping with a loud conversation about the weather while Turner makes a show of actually spilling his coffee all over his desk before running to the kitchen for something to clean up his mess.   

Juliet hazards a quick glance at them before stepping in closer to Carlton and dropping her voice low to say, “noooo, totally not jealous at all, partner”.

Carlton opens his mouth to argue when Vick clears her throat as she walks closer to the four of them, her hands now firmly on her hips --which is never, ever, a good sign. 

“I have enough on my plate dealing with a child at home, I do not need to parent my staff, so if we are all quite finished?”

Guster and Shawn stop talking and attempt to stand at attention but for whatever reason have chosen to begin intermittently elbowing each other in the sides, as though the Chief can’t see what they are doing. 

Vick sighs, lifting one hand from her hip to pinch into her eyes before letting it drop away, “we’ve got another body on Oak, take Spencer and Guster with you, fill them in on the way”.

“But, Karen--Chief,” Carlton tries as he stands up from his desk, ignoring the way Guster and Spencer surreptitiously low-five each other. 

“I’ll expect a report by noon so I’d hurry if I were you four,” Vick bites out as she continues to her office, “and where the hell is Turner, there is coffee all over his desk!” 

She sighs loudly, only looking back at them once with a single raised eyebrow before closing her door with a soft snick and a shake of her head. 

The bullpen is completely silent for a beat, save for the squeak of rubber soles as Turner races back to his desk, cursing under his breath with paper towel trailing behind him like a cape, the idiot having taken the entire roll from the kitchen. 

God these fucking people. 

“So,” Shawn claps his hands together before throwing one thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the parking lot in the front of the building, “Oak street? I think there’s a smoothie place nearby, we can totally stop for drinks before we visit the spirits, pineapple strengthens the connection after all”.

Jesus Christ, if Spencer wasn’t careful he’d be visiting the spirits for real. 

***

Black and whites litter Oak street by the time they pull up.

There are no lights or sirens but their presence is still enough to draw neighbors out of their homes and onto their lawns, craning their necks and standing on tip toes to look over fences at the scene down the cul de sac. 

Carlton grits his teeth as they walk up the drive, stepping over police tape and walking past those processing the scene. The front door is open and McNab waves them over, his usual boyish grin firmly in-place despite the fact that there has been yet another murder. 

McNab waits patiently for the four of them to pull on their gloves and paper booties over their shoes in the foyer, Carlton does his best to ignore the way Spencer giggles at ‘Booties’ while Guster snaps a glove at his partner. 

Deep breathes he thinks to himself, trying to remember the technique that his marriage counsellor taught him during their last session, which had in fact turned out to be their final session after Victoria decided to stop attending. He swallows down resentment, taking in another deep breath through his nose. 

It was something about squares or pinwheels; the technique will probably come back to him at some point. 

“Who called it in?” Juliet asks as they make their way further inside.

The house is decent sized, with a nice flow to the main floor. Plenty of south facing windows, which would make it way easier to cool this place in the Santa Barbara heat. Huh, Carlton looks around, taking in the built-in shelving and reading nook in the corner; lots of potential hiding places for guns too. But, the main floor is just a bit too open for his taste, the back door can be seen from the front entryway through the kitchen, plus the doggy door flap at the bottom would need to go and would be finicky to fix. 

Not that he’s seriously looking, he just finished unpacking his new place after the whole surprise party incident. And who knows if this place would even be on the market.

“Their cleaner found her, she’s pretty shaken up but gave her statement,” Buzz says, taking out a small notepad from his shirt pocket and flipping it open to the most recent page, “Rebecca Lars, she’s worked part time with the Solare’s for the last three years. Cleans Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays from around nine to noon, but she got in early today”.

“Was anyone else home?” Carlton asks, ignoring the way Shawn and Guster move in his periphery, taking a wide walk around the space, not lingering on any particular section.

“Not that she knew of, the kids are with their dad and grandparents this week, divorced,” McNab adds as almost an afterthought. 

Divorced. Just like the last two victims.

“Good thing there was no forced entry, you don’t see solid mahogany doors like those anymore and I bet they’d be a bitch to replace eh Gus,” Shawn says loudly as he slips past Cartlon and Juliet, making his way to the stairs. 

“That's right,” McNab says after a beat, “man Shawn, your visions are always so clear when we’re on scene, it’s almost spooky”.

Guster makes a choking noise as he flies up the stairs after his partner, hissing something under his breath as he moves. Carlton rolls his eyes, doing his best to stop himself from contaminating the gloves he just put on by strangling them. 

Juliet elbows him gently, tilting her head towards the stairs, “I don’t know about you but I’m not optimistic about Buzz’s babysitting skills, we should head up”.

The enclosed L-Shape staircase is covered nearly wall to wall with photos of dogs and children of various ages, ranging from toddler to high school graduation. Moments captured on film from the life of this family. Carlton feels a slight pang in his chest as he thinks back to the photos littering the walls of his family home, him and Lauren captured in bright colour and some artful black and white when his mother was feeling particularly avant garde during his teen years. He watches as Juliet lingers on the bend, her eyes flicking from picture to picture with a grimace, at least he’s not the only one. 

He clears his throat, drawing O’Hara’s gaze back to himself before tipping his head towards the landing, they have a job to do after all. She takes a deep breath through her nose and nods before wordlessly continuing the climb to the second floor. 

The master bedroom is to the left of the landing and where Laura Solare was found, just like the previous victims. They linger just outside, standing in the hallway, as the photographer steps back into the doorframe for a wide shot of the room before snapping the lens cap back on. Clark Mulroney is a decent crime scene photographer, well, at least he hasn’t murdered anyone yet like the last guy the SBPD had on their payroll. He’s only been in the job a few months so time will tell. Clark keeps to himself most of the time, sometimes stopping to chat at crime scenes or in the bullpen, but otherwise getting in and out only when needed --which is perhaps the man's best quality, unlike some people he unfortunately knows.

Carlton grunts at the man as they make their way through the door to the bedroom, Clark shoots him and Juliet a grin, dimples popping as he twists the flash attachment off of the camera before placing his equipment into the padded bag in the corner of the room. 

“A little late to the party huh guys?” Clark says as he zips up the bag and hoists it over his shoulder, “you know, I didn’t see psychic-nanny on the list of duties when I took this job but I can roll with the punches--”

“Hey,” Shawn huffs from the end of the bed where he is crouched down, nose almost to the lavender duvet, while Guster stands beside him turned away from the body in the bed, “Psychic Nanny sounds like an amazing title of a best selling YA series or NBC’s new fall favourite so”.

Shawn looks up, winking at Clark, “jokes on you because we are totally stealing that, right Gus?”

Guster swallows heavily, shaking his head as he shuts his eyes, “Shawn you got maybe thirty more seconds before I have to be anywhere but this room, do you really want to waste it talking about how that could totally be a relaunch of the Babysitters club?”

Shawn snaps his fingers as he stands up, stepping around McNab to make his way over to the headboard, “you know that’s right,” the fake-psychic chirps, his hazel eyes darting all around the room before he stops, tilting his head to the side.

Laura Solare lays before them, tucked into the lavender blankets, dressed in pajamas, her pale skin just beginning to turn purple where her body directly sits against the mattress. Her expression is lax as though in sleep but her mouth sags slightly, like it was closed for her which--

Shawn gasps, closing his eyes as he staggers back a half step, drawing their gazes, McNab reaches out to steady him but Shawn manages to stay upright as he raises two fingers to his temple, pointing at the bed with his free hand.

“We have another matchbook murder,” Shawn says, putting on a breathy affect that immediately has Carlton sucking his teeth. He catches O’Hara’s eye and sighs as she simply shrugs with a small half smile before pulling out a notebook and pen from the side pocket of her blazer. 

“That’s not news Spencer,” Carlton huffs, crossing his arms across his chest, needing to keep his hands from grabbing the pair of idiots and tossing them out of his crime scene. 

Shawn raises a single finger in front of his face, “oh yee of shrimpy faith, speaking of; Gus, we are totally going for Shrimp Po’boys later”.

Guster groans from his spot on the far corner of the room

“Shawn, how about you tell us what you saw,” Juliet says with the patience of some yet unknown saint.

“The spirits tell me that our perp has switched up his MO, I think you’ll find that the matchbook in Ms. Solare’s mouth is missing not one,” he says triumphantly,  “but two matches”.

Juliet blinks, before slowly jotting down a note in her book as Carlton steps forward towards the bed, gently pulling the victim's mouth open. It moves easily, the cold flesh still soft under his gloved fingers. 

Juliet makes a humming noise, scribbling more on her notepad as she pushes past Gus, McNab, and Shawn to slip around to the other side of the bed. 

“Blood pooling but no Rigor Mortis,” she mutters almost to herself before looking up at Carlton, “and the mouth was closed this time”.

Carlton hears Clark unzip the camera bag once more, pausing to give him a second to screw the flash attachment back on.

“Sorry gang,” Clark says as he moves in closer to take several pictures of the open mouth, “I would have kept my camera ready if I had seen--”

“Dont’ make incompetence a habit Mulroney, we get enough of that from these two,” Carlton growls, cutting off the other man as he reaches for the tweezers the Juliet holds out to him without having even asked. 

Sitting on Laura’s tongue is a single black matchbook, the same kind found in the mouths of the last two bodies. The previous books had no distinguishable logos or markings of any kind, making the search for the manufacturer extremely frustrating and yet another loose thread they couldn’t pull. 

However, the book that Carlton gently picks up with the tweezers before placing in a plastic evidence bag that Juliet also hands him --they really are getting to be seamless, he should take her out for a beer sometime soon, has a single white crown logo and an address printed in matching bold white.

Carlton zips up the bag before holding it aloft for the room to see and for Clark to snap another photo of the evidence before he catches himself looking at Spencer. He falters slightly when he sees the way the other man’s eyes trace over him, a soft grin pulling at his lips. 

If Carlton thought about it for longer than a minute it almost looked as though Spencer was checking him out, which--

Absolutely not, that would be utterly ridiculous and not at all what he wants. 

Carlton clears his throat, tamping down the sudden urge to grin, “I think we finally found our first lead”.

[captainskells]

this started as a quick 2h study to loosen up after not drawing for a few weeks, but then I did a 👁️ inquisitor asharen lavellan

[ilkkawhat]

i'm already trying to talk myself out of working tomorrow fuck!!

[tanicus-caesareth]

guarana drama, damage control

[lacyblades]

౨ৎ satoru hates the idea of cock-warming. he thinks it's pointless, getting the opportunity to be in you, and not even bothering to make the most of it.

his idea of making the most, well, it would consist only of fucking you so hard, you won't be able to move the next day. that's what good boyfriends do, right?

"good boyfriends do whatever their girlfriend asks them to do," you counter.

satoru whines in response, looking up at you. all pretty, you're seated in his lap, as he lays on the bed. strands of white hair fall into his eyes, and you brush them away.

he pouts, "i am a good boyfriend." satoru's getting impatient, wanting to just feel your snug cunt around him. his throbbing cock sits hard on his stomach, red-tipped and leaky.

"then, please?" drawing out the syllables, you give him the best you can: puppy eyes. he caves. instantly.

grumbling, "fine. i guess you can put her in you. willingly choose not to move, too, or whatever."

you clap your hands, emerging victorious. you're not willing to test your luck, though, not commenting on the fact that you've told him multiple times not to refer to his penis with she/her pronouns.

he groans as you sink onto him, his thick length pushing past your spongey walls. there's a filthy squelching that fills the room, paired with your quiet whimpers.

satoru's hands grip your hips, fingers digging into the flesh. "shit, pretty girl, tight 'n' wet f'me. taking me s'good." his words slur into one another, lost in the depths of arousal.

there's always a certain amount of self-control it takes, to not immediately cum the second he's all the way in. "'toru," you murmur, accidentally clenching around him.

"fuck," he mutters, "you can't do that, squeeze your little pussy like that, if you aren't gonna do anything about it."

"sorry," you say, sheepish. his eyes flutter shut, a hum dismissing the apology.

"now, what? just... stay like that?" satoru tilts his head at you, questioningly. sassy, if you may add. he just really can't believe you'd rather be doing this.

shifting above him, you lean down, resting your head on his bare chest. "yeah. isn't it nice?"

his arms wrap come up, to wrap around your waist. there's a beat of silence from him. begrudgingly, your rigid boyfriend shrugs, "maybe."

you're too content to roll your eyes. he wouldn't admit it, but satoru was filled with love, in this moment. his shoulders relax, and his entire body seems to ease, a breath of satisfaction leaving him. he feels at peace. he's always at peace, when he's with you, but this is different.

more real. more raw.

it's incredibly intimate. he feels like he's a part of you, like there's nothing keeping you separated. satoru inhales your scent, holding you just a little tighter.

"baby, i love you," he whispers, voice thick with emotion.

you smile against him, "i love you, too, 'toru."

to say the least, cock-warming is his new favorite thing. there is no sitting beside him on the couch anymore, not when you're alone. no laying next to each other on bed, either.

if he was clingy before, he's a monster now. if you're near, he wants to be inside you. not to have sex, but just to rest. it's not like you're complaining, anyways. at the end of the day, you're down bad for him, just as much as he is for you.

[blue-eli]

Ink October day 27: Seldom

Not often; infrequently or rarely.

[writerpeach]

Voracious

IVE An Yujin x Jang Wonyoung x m!reader

25k words

Part 10 of IVED Vanilla Latte

pick me up, daddy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Easy for you to say, brat.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You'll find out, you wager. 

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

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

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

"Yujin—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That mouth is the worst possible distraction.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or maybe you can't.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You should have known this would be nothing but hell. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“F-fuck—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"F-fuck, you're too good at that—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In Wonyoung's car.

In the front seat, no less. 

In plain sight of whoever might be looking.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course, you little fucking brat."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Insufferable. 

"Brat."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Obviously. Your ass is definitely number one."

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

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

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

"Absolutely fucking not, Yujin."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The nerve. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And she's back to normal in a flash. 

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

"Coming, daddy?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Here? You want to do this here?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wonyoung.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Remember, princess—quiet." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Because it's mine."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"This is a library, you two know—" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wonyoung just stares.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And this is more of the same.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“D-daddy, please—“ 

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

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

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

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

"No—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well, well, well—" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yujin only laughs. "Good."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Who said you could start without me?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t stand a chance. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"D-do that again."

"No."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yujin couldn’t agree any more.

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

“What do you think, Yuj—ah, fuck!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It all just feeds Yujin to make her lose it. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"We never do..." Wonyoung answers.

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

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

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

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

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

"Who?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She’s hopeless.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yujin—" 

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

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

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

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

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

Not a chance. 

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

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

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

The doorbell rings downstairs. 

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

"Princess, would you mind getting the door?"

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

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

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

"Thanks, princess."

It's morning. Monday morning to be exact. 

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

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

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

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

"That mouth drives me fucking crazy, but—"

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

"Something like that." 

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

She knows it’s plenty. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Too late."

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

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

And then, you erupt.

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

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

And you’re not the least bit apologetic. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you'd never want her to be. 

[magicalpuppet]

"Are you new here? I’m new too." What if the one she met wasn't Frank at all?

If somebody is interested in the madness “theory”, I'll put it right under here.

Keep in mind before continuing: this is straight up just a theory/headcanon, I'm gonna share it without any other purpose than having fun theorizing. I put some points you can follow, I am sorry this is gonna be long and crazy.

So, I believe the puppet Julie met could be...Wally.

This whole madness was caused by Julie's story in the video "regard forgetfulness silence"...

The memory The way Julie is speaking seems off to me, as well as the way she recounts her first meeting with Frank.

She "think" that's how she met him, isn't it strange she can't recall precisely how she met the dearest puppet to her?

We know Julie have difficulties with her memory, but she seems to remember stuff that happened when hanging out with Frank, why the most important moment is so unclear to her?

This could mean that she can't remember the interaction correctly and that her memories are being heavily corrupted by something or that the whole thing is made up by someone.

The encounter

Even the encounter is iffy, the puppet she met doesn't seems to speak like Frank Does.

"Are you new here? I'm new too. My name is Frank"

This speech pattern sound more similar to Wally to me.

And after that, she says that he made a corny joke and she laughed at it, we know that Frank is not really the one who tells jokes. Heck, he is not even good at telling them.

You could argue about Wally and jokes too, he's not very skilled at telling them after all, but I can imagine two scenarios: -Him speaking normally and not realizing he is saying something funny to her. (this could apply to Frank too)

-His best friend love to tell jokes and we know that Barnaby encourage Wally to chat and tell jokes to the Neighbors, it could be that noticing she was scared he tried to tell a joke to her.

The fruit basket

Okay now I am really looking into stuff, I know, but why would Frank bring a big fruit basket around? Julie says it's because he was going to say hi to her but we know the friendliest neighbor in the whole place is Wally itself. Wouldn't it make more sense for him to be the one going to say hi?

The fruit basket could also just be related to Wally going out into the woods to paint a still life since he is a painter.

“Was he mad?”

She was worried that "Frank" was mad at her when they met.

Strange, because Frank emotions are very easy to read, he's a very expressive puppet. We also know that when he feel a very strong emotion (like being mad) his head spins. Why she would question it? If it was Wally, his emotions are more difficult to read and it could be that she didn't understood his intentions immediately.

Wally itself

The fact she bring up Wally while recalling Frank's meeting is strange too. She says she met Wally the same day, why not meeting the whole neighborhood then? Maybe it was just them at the beginning and it would make sense in that case.

But Wally comes up at the end of the audio asking "Did all that really happen, Julie?" like he is asking her like all of that was made up or straight up incorrect.

Aaand I'm done! I'm not even sure any of this makes sense to anyone else, but it was stuck with me since the update and I wanted to draw it and share it.

Maybe it was Frank, maybe it was really Wally, maybe it never happened in the first place but... Everything sound too strange to be as the story says.

And don't get me wrong with all of this! I love Frank and Julie relationship a lot, I am not going against them in any way. I like to go deep inside the stories I am following and I speculate a lot about stuff! (Also I wanna apologize if my english is not the best, it's not my first language)

[naeirichill]

mingyu wants a baby

kim mingyu x fem!reader cw: 18+ mdni, fluff, angst, smut, breeding, unprotected sex

mingyu doesn’t think there’s anything he’s ever wanted more. he’s thought about it early in your relationship, when he truly realized that you’re the one. the one he could start a family with. and when he was sure of it, he was never afraid to share with you how much he wanted this. a baby.

he talked about it a lot with you. it became your regular pillow talk. “you want it too, though, right? like, you think about it sometimes?” mingyu would ask while holding your back against his chest in bed. his voice always got awfully quiet and soft during those moments compared to his normal tone.

you’d indulge him, tiredly listening or answering him in the best way that wouldn’t make him think having a baby is completely off the table.

he gets so excited, thinking about those things so far ahead. he made sure to promise you that he would take such good care of her. promised he’ll be there to watch her every step. and he was sure to use ‘her’ because he had the deepest feeling that your first child would be a girl.

“of course i do, mingyu. it sounds so nice but.. just not right now. it’s not the right time.”

and he’d nod in understanding. your lives were just insanely busy, bringing a child into the relationship while things weren’t slowing down as soon as you’d liked it to, would probably bring more chaos than joy.

“but one day, right? we’ll have a baby one day, won’t we?” he whispered quietly in the darkness of the room, burying his face in your hair.

you pulled apart his hands from where his fingers locked over your stomach and brought it up to your lips, leaving soft kisses on the back of it. “one day.”

but as the weeks turned into months, that one day was never brought up again. after things had finally calmed down a bit, he thought that maybe you’d be the first to bring it up because he didn’t want to seem too desperate, (although he was) but you never did.

mingyu silently planned things out to himself. it was going to be nothing but staying home and wasting time together. he even planned the day he was going to propose to you. not exactly in that order.

he was even convinced he was being given signs from a simple and innocent encounter with a fan who happened to be a new mother. she wore a white dress and all mingyu could think about was what you’d look like in a white dress, post-birth glow.

the fat, rosy cheeked baby sat in her stroller, squealed in utter joy, easily entertained at the childish game mingyu had initiated. a smile almost wider than his face came playing onto his lips, entranced and in complete awe of the adorable infant and her baby giggles.

mingyu doesn’t think there’s anything he’s ever wanted more.

the night dragged on as it usually did. attending important parties with you because something’s always being celebrated. and then leaving before someone could convince him to take a private plane to another party in a different city.

when you made it back to your hotel room, there was just no way he could keep his hands off of you. kissing all over your face and neck, gripping each part of your body he possibly could and dug his fingertips into your plushy skin.

there was just no way he could stop himself. not when you’re so warm around him, your gasps and whimpers echoing in his ear. not when he’s so balls deep inside of you, his fingers gripping tight on the sheets, making his knuckles turn white.

“tell me when to stop.” he choked out, the vein running down the side of his neck looking prominent.

“w-why?” you didn’t want him to stop and you didn’t know why he’d ask that of you.

“cause if you don’t,” he groaned, hips snapping forward into yours, “i’m afraid i might put a baby in you.” mingyu closed his eyes, not sure he wanted to see your reaction, and leaned his forehead against your shoulder.

the soft gasp you let out didn’t go unnoticed or the way you clenched around him, making him draw a sharp breath. he tried to get himself to stop, brought his rutting to a minimum but didn’t completely still inside of you because that would have been pure torture.

“okay.”

mingyu sweetly whimpered when you tangled your fingers in his hair and gently tugged at it, making his head tilt back up. he looked at you with widened eyes and a slightly parted mouth.

“okay?” he repeated, wanting to be sure that he heard you correctly.

“yeah.” you shrugged. “i want you to put a baby in me.”

he was so blissful, removing himself completely off of your body and burying his face in his hands. you allow him to revel in it. even if he was too loud, putting you both at risk of getting kicked out. even if he was jogging around the room, nakedly, with his fists in the air, as if he’s won a boxing match. you didn’t mind if he basked a little more.

“we’re going to make the fattest, most cutest baby girl, ever.” you felt mingyu’s body again, his frame fit like a missing jigsaw piece.

“what makes you so sure it’s going to be a girl?”

“i’ve got a really good sense for these things. trust me. you’re having a girl.”

your heart suddenly got overly emotional. he was so beautiful and you were in complete awe over his certainty. it didn’t take long for your gawking to finish before his lips were feverishly against yours.

he was so desperate, yet so slow, savoring the moment. the feelings that he caused to belly within you were unexplainable.

mingyu lowered his mouth to your breast then, took the nipple between his lips, pressing lightly with his tongue. you cried out – like your whole body was too hot and you couldn't breathe – bringing up a hand to trace his fingers across your other breast, but if he stopped you felt like you would die. you gripped his bare shoulders, holding on for dear life against the onslaught of sensations.

you gasped as he pushed into you for the second time, amazed by the electricity that rocketed through you. your legs wrapped around his hips of their own accord, seeking a better angle, searching for more. even now, he moved with grace, sliding in and out of you slowly and steadily. only his rapid breath, occasionally coming out in a strangled moan.

it’s pure torture how slow he is sliding into you but feels exquisite. you gently roll against him, moaning as he slowly moves in and out of you. the pace is keeping the orgasm just out of reach, keeping you on edge; desperately clenching around him and pushing your hips into his to increase speed. but mingyu’s hands remain firm on your waist, controlling the movements. both of your breathing is heavy, both moaning loudly as the need to find your release hits an all-time high.

going so slow was hard for him as well, though. he couldn’t hold it for long but he also didn’t want to rush it. and he never liked cumming before you did. what kind of man would that make him? had to treat you right.

mingyu dropped down to his elbows, leaning on either side of your face as he panted heavily, the foot of your heels digging into the curve at bottom of his spine.

“please, just a little harder…I need more…I can't…take it…oh god, gyu– “

he interrupted you with a hard kiss, hips rutting a little faster now. the rush of pleasure hit you, and your fingers grasped for purchase on his back, needing an anchor. it was almost unbearable, the electricity building where the two of you were joined, tingling down to your toes and making you lightheaded. mingyu panted hot air against your neck, your lips, kissing you again and again, and the energy was building and building.

you looked at his face, knowing his was trying to hold on a little longer. maybe the realization had seriously hit him for real, this time. that this was it and he’ll probably be an actual dad like he wanted.

“mingyu,” you panted, cupping his face with your hands, fingers wiping the sweaty hairs that stuck to his forehead, “it’s time.” you whispered.

and he nodded and replied, “okay.” his voice weak and strained.

you noticed his movements had grown more erratic, almost frantic, and the low grunt deep in his throat seemed to shudder down your spine and rocket down to where your bodies were joined.

"oh god," you breathed as the sensation overload finally seized you. your chest was tight and your nerves sizzled and your thighs clenched as the pleasure exploded and seeped into every cell of your body. he groaned, his forehead dropping down to the crook of your neck when your walls fluttered around him.

you fell into the aftershocks when he thrust into you one last time and cried out your name. you felt the rush of fluid inside you and reveled in the feel of his body shuddering in your arms.

not even mere seconds after, he started moving again, pushing even deeper, a whimper escaping your lips.

“m-mingyu?” you stuttered, thighs tensing around his waist.

“one more time,” he grunts as he began to pound into you heavily even after he had already came, “just to be sure.”

[specsthesecond]

Being a waitress/bottle girl at a club that caters to monsters.

While serving a table of orcs their drinks you hear whistling from behind you and turn towards the table of werewolves calling you over,

"C'mere Doll, why don't you spend some time with us? It'd be better than looking at those ugly green faces."

The rest of the table barks out laughter and all you do is look back at the table of orcs to gauge their reactions, just incase you have to call the bouncer to stop another brawl.

"Aw yeah? Cus your slobbering snout's much more attractive, ain't it?"

One orc yells and the others hurl their chosen insults across the table as well. The werewolves grumble and snarl insults back and you just stand in the middle of this, trying to think of an escape.

"Maybe she ain't at your table for a reason!"

One of the orcs claims boldly and all the other orcs voice their agreement while the wolves clearly disagree.

"Why don't we let the lady decide." A wolf with greying fur suggests with a smirk and both tables seem to agree on this being just a wonderful idea.

"Well love? Who's better then? Us or the mutts?"

"Aye! The real question is who can treat her better, isn't that right, Doll?"

The attention of the two tables are now on you, waiting for your answer with baited breaths and half hard cocks probably.

"....I prefer minotaurs."

This deadpan response takes a few seconds to sink in before a chorus of disagreements and further arguing commences, but you're already making your way back towards the bar, you're sure they don't mind watching your tiny skirt bounce as you walk away.

That answer wasn't random, it's actually been the only thing you could think of all day. Your Minotaur coworkers cock reaching deep into your stomach while he pounds you into next week. That might be why so many customers have been extra forward with you today, maybe they can smell the need on you.

You finally make it back to the bar, getting ready to end your shift and finally get some relief.

"You causing trouble?"

You whip around to meet just the monster you were so desperate to see. He stands at the edge of the bar in his bouncer uniform, his sleeves hug his biceps very nicely and you nearly purr imagining what that arm would feel like around your throat, while he pounds you from behind. He gazes down at you with a knowing look.

"Me? Oh, I would never."

You look up at him and play with the collar of your shirt, successfully drawing his eyes to the generous amount of cleavage your uniform provides.

He huffs in amusement.

"They don't seem to think so."

He tilts his head and massive horns towards the two tables you just left where the occupants are all peering over one another to see the interaction between you and the bovine beast in front of you.

You scoff, take his arm and turn him around so that he's only focusing on you.

"I'm off. You're off in 15...maybe you could come by my place again....or something?"

You nervously bite your lip and he doesn't know why you're getting nervous.

You weren't nervous when you sent him that video of your stuffed cunt clenching around the Minotaur themed dildo you've had since before you were seeing eachother. You definitely weren't nervous when you sent him another video 6 hours ago of you stuffing said dildo into your perfect pussy in the employee bathrooms before slipping your tiny panties on over it, keeping the silicone deep in your cunt.

He pulls out his keys and leans down closer to you,

"Be ready when I get to the car."

You nearly squeal in excitement as you grab the keys and reach up to kiss his cheek. As you skip out the door to his car he looks back at the two tables just to revel a little in the disappointed grumbles and huffs emitting from the two groups as they go back to their drinks.

𓄀