#not even white chocolate very much

[duckulahpspaghettishapes]

white chocolate maybe is my favourite the white ink is just a bonus

[stargazerlillian]

Okay, this is random, but I’d like to give a great big thank you to the two mutuals who tagged me in a couple of posts for Valentine’s Day.

Since Valentine’s Day has become more like just another day in my family, having even one person outside said family actually think of me and send Valentine’s wishes my way really helped make my day. I certainly wasn’t expecting such tokens of sweetness, but in a way, that only makes this little surprise all the more special and impactful.

So thank you both, really. That was beyond kind of you. I appreciate it greatly.💟

[moonlesslights]

Miguel O’hara in Love

Headcanons.

━━━━━━ ✿ 🕷️ ❀ ━━━━━

A/N: I was really looking forward to write this, because I just can’t get this whole idea out of my head.

Warnings: Basically none, a little bit of angst maybe?, some smut references and depictions. Miguel being Miguel. Kinda obsessive (?)

This text is based in that frase of Joe Goldberg: “There’s not a line, in the world, that I wouldn’t cross for you”. So be prepared.

Enjoy, my loves. Every comment or request is welcomed! 🤍

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Miguel was curious of you from the very moment he met you. Such a unique presence among all the others.

You had been bitten just a month ago. And it was hard for you. He saw you struggle, falling over and over again, training till exhaustion, fighting to be on the level of the others.

And the worst part of it all, was the guilt coming to attack him with every side eye Jessica gave to him. “If you weren’t going to help her, you should have let her alone.” The woman had whispered while both of them looked at you fighting to climb another building. Miguel knew she was right. He was the one who insisted in bringing you immediately after they found you (only a couple of days after the bite), even when Jessica insisted to give you time for you to figure it out alone. Miguel wasn’t having it, and now… “She’s been at it for the whole morning.” The woman pursed her lips, shaking her head.

What Jessica didn’t quite know was that Miguel hadn’t left you alone all this time… He wasn’t good at talking, that was true. He wasn’t good at showing his support with words, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care.

You let out a pained groan when you finally plop on the concrete of the building’s rooftop. Every single muscle of your body aches and you can fell your heart pounding harshly against your ribcage, making it feel like every breath that makes it to your lungs it’s just a mere miracle.

The weight of the presence of someone standing beside you forces you to blink out of your thoughts. Tiredly, you look up, finding Miguel's mask glaring back at you with a deep frown you can make out of the way his eyes curve.

He holds a white little package on his right and he hands it to you before finally sitting down without making a single sound. It had all started like a little game between the two of you: You pretend you don’t see his figure hovering above a building while you train, or his silhouette watching you getting back to The Society place safely. You also pretend you don’t know it’s him who leaves bandages and painkillers over your bed every day with a little chocolate next to it. And he pretends he doesn’t know that you know.

You cross your legs and smile when you open the small box on your hands, smelling the sweet scent of warm and fresh food. You also take notice of how he changed one of the things he brought you last time, you didn’t have the heart to tell him, but you were sure now he definitely noticed you didn’t like it.

“Eat.” He orders and you are too tired to remark his tone of voice with a roll of your eyes. So you nod, bringing a big spoonful of pasta and vegetables to your mouth, thanking him with a big smile. Smile he doesn’t return. He never does anyway. But now it’s not like always. He’s pissed. “When was the last time you ate?”

You look straight ahead, avoiding his gaze. You swallow, slowly, feeling his eyes burning on the side of your head.

“Mhm… Not long ago, no.” You answer, mumbling while you get more food into your mouth. Miguel raises an eyebrow.

“Training this much without any nutriments won’t do anything good for you…”

“Training this much won’t do anything anyway.” You sigh, keeping then the fork between your lips. Miguel wishes to say something but he can’t find the words, he can’t order his thoughts inside his head to place them on his tongue and tell you just how much you have improved since the first day, so he gladly receives your bright eyes turning to him when you seem to remember: “But I finally climbed this building, see? Without using any web, only my spider fingers.”

The man nods at you waving playfully at him. The determination in your eyes even when your whole body wanted to give up, even when you know you’re still not close to go on a mission by yourself (or with anyone else), even when you probably couldn’t even sleep fine because of the sore bruises, the determination in your eyes didn’t flatter.

That made him feel something deep is his hands, a tingle he couldn’t control. And he hated it.

“Tomorrow at seven.” He sentences, standing on his feet again.

You frown, raising big eyes at him. The brightness in them when the weight of his words hit you destabilizes him.

“For real?”

“Yes.” He looks away. “If I don’t train you you’re not getting anywhere.”

His comment goes unnoticed for the excitement running all along your body.

“Ok.” You nod, trying to look professional but failing miserably.

He grunts in response, soon jumping off of the building and losing among all of the city chaos. In some minutes he would be back at the Society lobby. You… An hour. Give or take.

Training with Miguel was nothing but… Hell.

No, it actually wasn’t. You expected you could say that to make people thing you were having it hard, but he insisted on starting with the basics… basics that you already felt like being good at.

Still, climbing had become easier within the first week of training with him. The tips and advices he insisted you to follow helped you thinking of it more like a game than a must do.

Swinging was still a tricky one. You used to lose your balance when the demanded velocity was too much. Panic rushed over you, feeling like you would crash against a window or a fucking person, or another spider doing their own training.

“Trust your senses.” Miguel said to you every time you fell, and every time you death glared at him for that. He didn’t have one of the most important senses for spider people and he still managed to be better than anyone you could have known. You had them all, and they all seemed to be a mess when you tried to use them.

Soon enough, Miguel learned about a way to motivate you: Rewards. Most of the time was food, some others, the promise of letting you rest for more that five minutes was enough. For a week now, it had been a little bit different.

History. You loved it. And you changed any delicious and tasty food for hours listening to Miguel explaining everything about the multiverse and the tangled webs between all of you. He had told you about his first travels to other Earths at least three times, but you couldn’t seem to get tired.

You might not tell him how much his voice soothes you after a long day out, but it wasn’t necessary, he could see it. On the other hand, he definitely would never tell you how he glanced at you, completely asleep after another history session, memorizing every breath, every mole and freckle, counting every single one of your eyelashes like the stars on the sky above you.

No. You would never find out about that.

Today was supposed to be just like any other day: quiet, calm and premeditated. Nothing out of the routine you and Miguel had adopted for the past four weeks.

But with you, things were never that easy. Boredom was a dangerous thing for you, Miguel had learned it by now. The hard way. If something became not enough exciting for your restless self, you would look for that spark of adrenaline at any cost. It was part of your determination. Heart of a lion. He knew that. But it didn’t change the fact he would have to save you from breaking a few bones every once in a while.

“I’m sorry” You would say after he dropped you on the safe floor again. He would turn to look at you, fire running up his veins. Every time he wanted to yell at you, to snap and tell you it was the last time you do something like that. And every time he would sigh, pressing both finger on the bridge of his nose, finally grunting in a low voice:

“Desobedeciste deliberadamente.” A month was enough for you to know exactly what those words meant.

“I know.”

“You could have hurt yourself.”

“I know…” Then the bright eyes. Always the bright eyes. “But I have to try, I can’t depend on you forever. Getting hurt it’s just part of the way.”

He hated you were right. He lost count of how many broken ribs he got on his first years, of how many scars he still hides under his suit. Eventually, you would have to learn to stand up even if you’re bleeding. Even if you’re dying.

He is not mad at you for disobeying, that’s bullshit. He admired that of you, actually. You don’t act by fear, you do not fear him. You follow your heart even when you know you could get in trouble for it. No, he’s mad because every time he catches you before you hit the ground, all he can think about is that there’s going to be a moment where he won’t be there to do it. And the sound of your body crashing against the concrete, of your pain, would follow him till the darkest moments of the night, where he curses the day you’ll scream his name and he will be too far away to hear it.

“I want to change my reward for today.” You smile at him, both of your hands behind your back, making him suspicious of your teasing voice.

“You’re not going anywhere with Hobie.” He responds in a neutral voice, starting to walk in front of you.

You roll your eyes, shaking your head before getting in front of him and starting to walk backwards so you could keep facing him.

“It’s not that.” You insist. He doesn’t answer and you know that’s his way of telling you to go on. You sigh. “I want to see you without your mask.”

That makes him stop dead on his tracks. He tilts his head, questioning you with curious eyes. That’s all you wanted? No, you wanted that? Why?

Were you really that bored?

“I feel like everyone here has seen you at least one time, except for me. And it’s not fair.” You got a point on that. He spends most of his time training you, you share almost every meal together, he’s the last person you usually talk everyday because you’re too tired to do anything other than going to your room and sleep. You have spent entire days with him, you have cried and made a mess of yourself in front of his presence, and you didn’t even know his face.

You can deny the sting of irritation you get every time Hobie or Gwen, or any other come talking about what they said during the meeting before a mission, meetings where, you had learnt, Miguel used to take off his mask. Peter told you it wasn’t that big of a deal. You wanted to punch him.

“If that’s what you want.” Miguel crosses his arms, tilting his head at you. “Now go tra-…”

You were gone before he could even finish his sentence. He sees your figure going around the building he chose for this particular session. Your swinging had gotten better over the last weeks and the confidence you had in yourself had also been improving, showing your true strength for him to see.

Jessica insisted on you being ready to train at the top levels with the others inside The Society training center, or at least to try. But Miguel profusely refused. He had designed many of the levels to train there, he knew the damage they could cause to someone not prepared to face them.

He blame it on his sense of responsibility over you the fact that he denied any attempt to put you on an unnecessary risk, but deep down, he knew that from the moment he stepped in front of you while you cried for that death he knew all too well now, and then observed how you wiped your tears and showed him your fists, ready to fight him despite everything… He was fucked.

You were the little thing he decided to protect even if it costed his life. The little thing that trusted his claws to hold at her, that puts its life on the line without a second thought. It is not his fault to have never experienced anything like this, to don’t know what to do, to act like a fool, to refuse to lose it… How they cannot understand?

“Done.” You jump in front of him, getting him out of his thoughts.

He looks up, seeing all of the targets on the building covered by a good layer of web. Your precision could be better, but you’re getting at it.

He sighs. He turns to face you completely before ordering his nanotechnology to uncover his face. Dark wavy hair falls onto his temples, brown skin glimmers under the heavy sun above you, full lips press against each other and two cold brown eyes glare down at you.

When you don’t say anything, he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Is this what you wanted? Are you happy now?”

You nod without waiting for another question.

“I just wanted to see your eyes.” You answer confident, smiling softly at him.

It is enough to say he never wore his mask on around you ever again.

Miguel O'Hara isn’t good in what emotion management respects.

He knows it, but he doesn’t have the time or care to try to do something about it.

It wasn’t that big of a deal…

Yeah, it wasn’t that big of a deal until one specially busy morning where he couldn’t make it to your first training, he went on looking for you… And he couldn’t find you.

He went to your room, your favorite places; he went looking all around the city, praying to find you just jumping above some buildings. But you were nowhere to be found. And it wasn’t until one Peter took mercy on him that pointed the worst place to be pointed: The training center.

With his heart going a thousand miles per hour, he started to look for you inside the complex. And when he caught a glimpse of Jessica looking up with a proud smile, he knew exactly where you were.

“She’s doing even better than I could’ve imagined. You’re a great mentor, Miguel.”

“Why is she here?” He answered immediately. Jess raised an eyebrow at him, confused by the uneasiness on his voice.

“Does that really matter? Look at her, Miguel!” She pointed at you with her extended hand. “Aren’t you proud of her?”

Of course he was. But what he couldn’t stand was someone else messing and taking choices over the one and only thing he has. So instead of answering her question, he sentenced: “Don’t ever get close to her again.”

“Miguel…”

“You can mess around with any other, but there is a fucking line, Jess. You chose yours, and I respect them. Don’t mess with mine.”

When he finally appeared in front of you, you smiled brightly at him. He looked like any other day, completely unfazed and with a calmed expression you were so used to see by now.

“Time to call it a day, don’t you think?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. You were sweating, you arms were trembling and you could barely control your breath by now, and still… You shook your head.

“I want to try this level one last time.” He was ready to talk you out of it but your pleading eyes made him look down at Jess, who, with a single movement, made him understand what she was talking about.

“Fine, but I’ll be with you every step of the way, got it?” His frustration made you giggle when you nodded.

You didn’t make it till the end of the level, but you tried, and that was all that mattered to you. To Miguel, having been able to take you to the wall before you crashed against a crystal under you was the main thing that mattered.

It had been a whole experience, but it remained like that. Enough time at least for him to push his way of react behind him. Until something made it snap again.

His eyes fly to all of the cameras in front of him, fixing his pupils in whatever screen he could catch a glimpse of your suit.

The threat they were expecting for your first mission ended up being a lot more aggressive and capable than hoped. You and your partner had already received a few good hits by the time Miguel reached for the Call button.

“How are you?” Is the first thing you hear when you press ‘answer’.

“Never better.” You reply, smiling at the interface of your pretty boss clenching his jaw.

“Need help?”

You immediately shake your head. “Not at all, we’re managing just fine.” Your figure distorts while you swing around. Heavy steps following you up close. “I gotta go, Miguel. See you back at home.”

“No, wai-…” He widens his eyes, trying to reach you before you end the call. His fists tighten and his eyes close, fighting to keep himself calm.

But our man can’t catch a break, because as soon as his breath starts to get back to its normal speed, a camera showing on one of the screens burst out with a big clatter, forcing his eyes open only to see his worst fear take form in front of him.

You were struggling against the anomaly, kicking your feet in the air and trying desperately to get his hands off your neck. Your partner was nowhere to be seen. You appear to lose you patience when you stop fighting and instead shoot webs to the creature’s eyes. The anomaly maddens, and throws you against the next building on the street.

Miguel's eyes follow your body across two cameras, watching in horror the blood dripping from your mouth when you cough after the blow, struggling to get on your feet again.

His hands move quicker than he can process, bringing all the information about the Earth you were on for him to see.

“Miguel.” Jessica calls from behind.

“Where the hell did you send her?” He whispers, reading the screen displayed. “I told you she wasn’t ready to go.”

“Miguel, look.” She insists, this time with a more demanding voice.

But the man can’t think of anything else more than you bleeding. Alone and injured.

“You said it was an easy one.” He growls in a low and dangerous voice.

“I’m…”

“I told you she wasn’t ready!” He snaps, looking back at her. His fangs pinch on his lower lip, so hard he can feel a drop of scarlet liquid running down his chin.

And it’s not until Jess takes a step back and Lyla calls his name that he realizes the way his claws had ripped the metal in front of him.

And then… A call.

He blinks out of his trance, looking up at the screen with your name on it. He hits ‘answer’ and your dirty suit and scratched face make an appearance.

His red eyes relax at the sight, returning to those soft brown irises and dark pleased pupils reserved only for you. He hides his fangs and his claws are no longer nowhere to see. Just you. It was just you again. And you were okay.

“Miguel, look!” You smile at him, pointing the camera on your watch for him to see your partner finishing to tie up the anomaly. “We got it!”

“Yeah, yeah, I see.” He can’t help but let out a small glimpse of a smile over his lips, nodding at your excitement.

“Oh, you’re smiling. Wait for me to come back, I wanna see it in person.” And just like that, his smile is gone.

“Don’t take any longer. Both of you, come back as soon as possible.”

And with that, the call is ended once again, leaving him in a room with heavy air and thick silence. He jumps off of the platform, still glaring at Jessica in silence.

“You know that wasn’t right.” She whispers. “The way you’re acting it isn’t right, Miguel.”

He shakes his head, slowing his movements until he remains still just a few feet away from the entrance.

“You don’t know what it’s like.” He murmurs.

“Oh, now I don’t know?!” She opens her mouth with indignation, but Miguel doesn’t alter.

“It’s not like that and you know it.” He hisses. “I have lost everything in this world. I am utterly alone. And even between us, there a strings that doesn’t tangle. You have a husband and a soon to come baby, a family that awaits for you at home, but what do I have, Jess?”

The woman, for the first time, remains silent.

“I have her. I only have her.” He says. “Not a single thing in this world belongs to me but her. Everything else have been taken away from me, everything I once had has disappeared: my job, my life, my normal life. If she’s ripped from my hands, I have nothing left. And I cannot keep fighting for a life I don’t want to live. This is not only for her, Jess. If I lose her, I will tear the universe apart with my own hands.”

A single shiver ran down her spine, watching Miguel exiting the complex to find you arriving almost at the same moment.

She watched how his threat takes meaning when you wrap your arms around him and his eyes brighten at the sound of your laugh.

She knows that if they ever were to lose that light, the whole multiverse would dim with them.

Miguel wanted to own you.

He wasn’t good at hiding it.

His hands would come to your hips, grabbing your tights or caressing your waist under your clothes.

Your scent would drive him into his animalistic side at every given moment. Until the point he would have to step meters away from you during the meetings in order to keep himself from the smell of your hair and your soft skin.

But when he didn’t keep himself from you, he would come from behind you, embracing you with his whole body. His face would bury in the curve of your neck, sending shivers with his tongue coming out, tracing a single line till reaching your ear, where he would whisper what he wants, where he would ask you to let him touch you.

When you say yes, he would drop his head and sink your fingers on your tender skin, pressing his hips against your body when you throw your head back, allowing him to do as he wished so with you, to mark you as his as many times as he wanted.

“Miguel…” You sigh this time, feeling his hands clinging at your suit, desperate to touch your skin instead.

He had just returned from a mission that had kept him away from you three days. You had imagined he would’ve returned tired and ready to sleep for fifteen hours, but instead he took you straight into his bedroom and pushed you against the wall, where he now holds you still with both of his arms.

“Take it off.” He whispers, tugging again at your suit. He was being nice this time, and you thank him internally for that. You don’t have the strength to ask Lyla for another suit.

You complain with a happy humming, letting your body fully exposed before him except for your panties still covering your ass and pussy.

The man switches off his own suit, letting you see up close the tent under his boxers. His fingers grasp at your thighs, forcing your legs open for him. Two of his digits run along your folds over your panties for around ten seconds before he decides to tore away your undergarment and place his hand back at your sex.

You would have complained about his behavior but his fingers pressing down on your clit rip only a moan out of your throat. He plays with your sensitive bundle until you’re wet and seconds away from an orgasm he pretends to steal away when he stops his movements.

“No, please…” You cry out, your legs threatening to give up.

“Shhh, patience, mi amor, I’m not done yet.” With one hand he pushes you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his neck for support before he starts eating you out like a starved man.

You tighten your tights around his head, almost screaming at your over sensitive pussy being stimulated even more, with his tongue pushing in and out for a while until he takes it to your clit again, sucking in, ripping another hard cry out of you. You are so close. And when he finally joins in two of his fingers to curve inside of you, it’s your end.

You scream his name, clenching around his digits, making him growl enough to feel the vibration running down your skin. He guides you through all of it until you finally seem to catch your breath again.

But then, he takes out his fingers and drops his boxes to the floor. His dick throbbed painfully, making him hiss when he stroke it a few times before pressing against you, chest to chest, and bottoming out all the way with a single thrust.

“Fuck, Miguel!” You throw your head back as he does the contrary, sinking his fangs into your skin, trying not to lose control.

“May I move?” He asks, breathing heavily on your skin.

You nod.

“Yes, yes, please move.” He groan in pleasure at your words, starting to move your hips in and down to match the rhythm of his.

You wrap your arms around his neck, moaning sweetly against his ear while he pick up the pace. Soon enough, only the sound of skin slapping on skin could be heard around you, with nothing but your moans and gasps indicating him where he had to thrust, and his deep growls showing you how close he was.

“Cum for me.” He says, pushing your back back to the wall with his hand around your neck, squeezing you under his fingers. “I wanna see you cum.” He demands, making of his pace nothing but a mess of thrusts.

He was so close, he just needed…

“Miguel!” Your eyes roll to the back of your head, letting out desperate whimpers when your legs tremble around him and your walls clench around his cock, sending him so high he has to bite you again to avoid a throaty moan escape from him.

You could barely begin to feel your toes again when you feel him tightening his grip around you before walking out to the bed.

He was ready for the next round.

…

Thank you so much for coming all this way!

PD: I know Miguel fangs have paralyzing venom but let’s just pretend he can choose when to use it and when don’t.

This might not be good but I had the idea of this thread of story and I just wanted to write it.

I hope you have at least enjoyed some of it.

Love y’all. Sending a lot of love. See ya. <3

PD2: I’m trying to work now on a Sub!Miguel thing. It may be still a couple of days from it, but I want to be good. And I haven’t decided if it would be just porn or porn with plot. So let me know!

PD3: I’ll be doing cleaning and correction between today and tomorrow.

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.4

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3][Pt.5][Pt.6][Pt.7]

Danny was sitting in the back, his backpack obnoxiously taking up the seat next to him, when the door to the lecture hall creaked open near silently.

“What are you in here for?” Danny asked the guy who crept into class. He sympathetically took his backpack off the Seat of Shame and allowed the guy to sit down. Funnily enough, they had the same hair and eye color.

“Gen Ed. Undecided. You?” The guy grunted quietly back.

“Environmental studies. I’m Danny.”

“Tim.”

With the implicit understanding of two people in a required class they could not give less than two fucks about, Tim and Danny tuned back into the lecture. When the class was assigned group work, Danny looked over to see Tim softly snoring, head slammed down on the table.

“Tim. Wake up, dude.” Danny poked his shoulder.

“Huh? Class over?”

“Nah, we got group work. Discussion board.”

“Oh shit, thanks for waking me up. Wanna team up?”

Danny shrugged. “Sure. We should aim to post it in the middle so the professor doesn’t read our answers to the class.”

“Yeah, sounds like a good idea. Any idea what we’re talking about?”

“Kind of?”

“Good enough for me.”

——

Tim Drake kept seeing Danny Fenton around on campus.

“Danny! Dude, what are you doing?”

Danny turned, gloved hands full of crumpled trash. “Picking up after the student population, apparently.”

“Didn’t think environmental studies was that serious.”

“Global warming is very serious, you jerk,” Danny smirked at him, crossing the grass to put the trash into the trash can. “Reduce, reuse, oil shouldn’t be spilled in water and all that.”

“Basic stuff,” Tim grinned. Nice, he basically had a friend past Bernard now!

They were friends, right?

“And yet humanity fails to comprehend it. Incredible. Incredibly stupid that is.”

“They get it. Major corporations just don’t care.”

Danny sighed. “True that. You on your way to your next class?” He took off his biodegradable gloves off (nitrile and nylon, baby!) and chucked them into the trash.

“I’ve got free time, actually. Prof cancelled for his daughter’s surgery.”

“Oh, shit, that’s rough! You wanna go downtown and join the strike?”

“A strike? What for?” Even as he asked, Tim hiked his bag higher onto his shoulder, ready to go. They fell into step as the two left campus.

“Apparently, Quillan Pharma was doing some shady shit at their manufacturing plants. I think it’s like killing kids, and pouring toxins into the ground.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah. Oh! Poison Ivy’s gonna be there!”

Tim blinked. He casted a sideways look at Danny. Sure he’s been here long enough to know… but it couldn’t hurt to check. “You know she’s an eco-terrorist, right?”

“Okay, but like… people suck sometimes. And all she’s asking for is like don’t kill the planet. And she doesn’t do that whole mind control thing too much anymore! The Sirens are so cool. Plus, one of my best friends at home might actually kill me if I don’t try to get her autograph. Poison Ivy is like, Sam’s personal hero.”

Tim snickered. “Yeah, okay. Mind if one of my friends join? His name’s Bernard.”

“The more the merrier,” Danny nodded. “Ooo! Hot chocolate. Want some?”

Danny bought three drinks as Tim trailed behind, texting Bernard.

“He said yes.”

“Cool! We should meet up somewhere before the drinks get cold.”

Well, Danny got the autograph. Tim got a new friend, and Bernard got a drink from his crush.

——

“Oh, you’re the glowing dude that Batman always talks about!”

Danny blinked, eyes scanning the wing-like cape and the yellow emblem on the hero’s suit. Danny was indeed glowing, stars and nebulas freckling across neon green skin, and glowing hair the color of a white dwarf star, tinged with the blue from his ice core.

“I… have absolutely no idea who you are,” Danny lied, like a liar. He’s found a surprising niche of entertainment in messing with the local vigilantes and he’ll be damned if he missed this opportunity.

He heard a snicker from the comm lines as Red Robin visibly brushes it off.

“I’m Red Robin. Why are you picking up trash?”

“Picking up after you humans, apparently.”

The both of them blink, feeling a weird sense of déjà vu. A moment of awkward silence passed before they both shook it off.

“Are you here to help? No offense, but the track record for you people is terrible.” Danny strode over and grabbed a bag. He opened it, and shook it at Red Robin’s face. “See? Batarangs, these odd bird looking ones, the R’s. Seriously, pick up after yourselves!”

“Oh, woah, can we have these back?”

Danny yanked the bag back before Red Robin could get close. “Pay me. These were incredibly tedious to pick up. Especially the batarangs. I mean, I even found a whole bunch of old rusted ones in the middle of the bay. What did you do, dump an entire bag in there from the air?”

Red Robin sighed and took out a wad of cash, with tracking fluid all over it. Danny grimaced, smelling the odd scent on the money. “That’s not real cash. It smells off. Are you trying to give me counterfeits because you’re broke?”

Red Robin gaped, oddly offended. “No! They’re real!”

“Doesn’t smell like it. It’s stinkier than the trash. Go get the one with the money, the litterer. Tell him I’ll be back the next full moon. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.” Danny grumbled, disappearing on the spot to watch Red Robin flounder with the stack of cash and the piles of dead bodies on the shore.

“What the fuck even is my life these days?” Red Robin wondered out loud, stuffing the cash back into his pocket. He looked over the plastic wrapped bodies and slumped, sighing.

Oddly enough, Danny felt a sense of sympathy. Well, he’s not getting paid for sympathy. He’s not getting paid at all tonight, actually. Danny flew off, plunging once more into the depths of the significantly cleaner waters, and used his ice to scoop out oil stains.

Danny glanced around and sighed. He had a lot of work to do.

——

“So you’re saying he’s like a werewolf mermaid fae child immortal god thing, right?”

Bruce grunted.

“B, what the hell are you smoking these days? You know drugs are bad, right? Do we need Superman to give you that PSA?” Jason snickered.

Tim, massaging his arms from having to haul an ungodly amount of dead bodies, grunted. He’s so similar to Bruce that it gave the people currently in the cave hives.

“He said full moon. I don’t think we can track him with regular stuff. The bugs kept shorting out.”

“Oh boy,” Dick sighed. “Don’t fall off the spiral cliff, Tim. You’ve got midterms to think about so no stalking the guy.”

“Yet,” Tim shot back, changing out of his suit.

Bruce grunted, setting aside a huge stack of cash.

[shotmrmiller]

now im thinking about how you're technically johnny's wife of convenience but now also simon's girlfriend.

like maybe you're crazy but you do remember johnny telling you that you can see other people, just don't bring them home. but every time you try to, simon is there.

something always suspiciously happens when you're out, conveniently forcing you to cut the date short, and the one that picks you up is simon. he doesn't even let you walk yourself out either. he'll already be at your table, putting your phone and wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. and what's worse, with the one guy who didn't mind, the one who had asked for a raincheck, simon told him that you have a husband at home waiting for them with a warm dinner.

he chuckles under his breath at the guy's reaction— ashen face, wide eyes, and gaping mouth. "don't know what ya saw in tha' bloke anyway. he didn't even cover the bill." because simon stared at him until he skittered out the front door without a backward glance.

and then their dates. they're supposed to be a couple; you're just a front, so why do they keep taking you with them as a third wheel. is it an exhibitionist kink? because that's what it feels like every time they're together. it's all sloppy kisses, grabby hands and you swear that if you hadn't spun around and briskly walked away that one lazy saturday simon was home, they would've probably let you watch them fuck each other stupid on the living room carpet.

it's also hard to bring it up to johnny because either simon's there, leaning on the kitchen island with his arms crossed as he watches you exist, or is taking up far too much space on the couch so that if you want to sit there and watch the telly, you're obligated to press up against his massive thigh. (manspreading, simon? really? truly?) or you can't look him in the eye after listening to the headboard repeatedly slam against the wall all night. you can still hear johnny's moans curling around the edges of your very conscious.

then, you meet the rest of the 141: a tall, broad bear of a man with the ocean in his eyes and an iconic mutton chop beard. john price, he'd rumbled as he shook your hand. and then the other one, a devastatingly pretty man with chocolate-brown eyes, a small scar on his cheek, and perfect, white teeth. kyle, the boys call me gaz. a pleasure. he'd grabbed your hand with both of his as he also shook it.

johnny doesn't stick around, excusing himself quickly as he takes a phone call but simon does. he stands directly behind you— a suffocating presence a silent guardian— so close you can feel his body warmth on the expanse of your back.

little close there, eh simon?

no' at all, boss.

once he starts showing up at your college with lunch, you feel like your patience is dangling by a fragile, whisper-thin thread so you confront him directly.

only to have him shut you down in seconds.

what's johnny's is mine. now sit, i know ya didn't eat breakfast this mornin'.

at least he brought you your favorite meal:}

[freedomfireflies]

Knockout*

Summary: The one where Harry is a handsome stranger who always comes to your diner covered in bruises.

Word Count: 9.4k (jeepers, sorry!)

Content Warning: 18+, smut, slight exhibitionism, very brief violence

Your stranger is here.

He’s sitting in his favorite booth, fifth one down from the first row, directly next to the window.

He’s got his usual hoodie pulled over his head, obscuring any view of his face. His clothes are dark and seem to cover nearly every inch of his skin. His knuckles are wrapped in white gauze, but are stained with streaks of red.

And he’s looking down. Staring at the menu on the table as though he doesn’t order the exact same thing every time.

A cup of coffee – black – and a slice of pie.

He’s like clockwork. He comes in exactly five minutes after midnight, takes a seat in his booth, and orders his usual.

Then, he pays his bill, and he leaves.

You’ve grown used to him. Comfortable with the idea of his face and his voice and the strange, but unsettling presence he brings with him.

You find that it’s more unnerving when he’s not here than when he is. 

“Hi, Cherry.”

Your stranger’s voice cuts through the quiet diner and forces your attention from the mug of coffee you’re pouring. 

You glance up, finally able to see his face now that he’s lifted his head. His skin is littered with deep cuts and vicious scratches. There’s a bruise just by his eye that’s dissolving into an unsettling shade of purple and his bottom lip is split down the middle.

Even still, he’s smiling. A gentle upturn that looks almost painful given the cracked fibers and dried blood.

“Hi,” you reply softly, feeling your heart race beneath your chest as his eyes find yours. “Would you like your usual?”

Somehow, his grin gets a bit brighter. As though he’s touched by the question. “Of course,” he answers calmly, in a voice you imagine you’d recognize anywhere. It’s deep and sultry, but it crackles like lightning. Sensual in a way you can’t exactly explain. “What have you made tonight?”

“Chocolate,” you tell him, glancing back toward the counter where the pies are displayed. “With extra whipped cream.”

“Mm.” His hum is playful, and it matches the glint in his eye. “How much extra?”

“As much as you want.”

He laughs, and you swear fairies are born. “Then I will have a slice of your chocolate pie, with as much whipped cream as you’ll allow.”

You feel your cheeks warm as you nod and turn on your heel to grab his order. Setting the coffee pot down before grabbing a small plate.

Once it’s ready, you return, sliding it across the table beside his mug. “Is that all?”

“No,” he says simply, gesturing now toward the seat across from him.

And just like every other time, you feel your pulse jump. “I’m…I need to get back—”

“You don’t need to go anywhere,” he interrupts with a wry grin. “Please?”

Your lips roll into your mouth, and your heart lands in your throat. Your stranger has always been good at getting you to do what he’d like, and it seems tonight is no different. 

So, with a sigh, you glance back toward the kitchen. Checking to make sure you aren’t needed too direly before you slip off your apron and slide into the booth.

“There,” he hums, placing his arms on the table to learn forward. “S’much better, hm?”

And you can’t help but smile as you nod and glance toward your cuticles. Avoiding that vivid green that always seems to send your stomach into a frenzy. 

“How are you?” he asks next, and his voice is soft, as if attempting to draw your attention back.

Braving a glance, you lift your head, and meet his eye. “I’m all right. How are you?”

“Good. Better now.”

The flirtatious remark sends a rush of heat to your cheeks. But you don’t respond, instead reaching out your hand toward his. Allowing your fingers to dance along the gauze that’s wrapped around his knuckles. 

“It’s bad again,” you whisper, and you feel him study you. 

There’s a gentle pause. And then, “Not by much. It’s been worse.”

You suck in a quiet breath and hold it deep within your lungs. Turning his arm around in order to inspect the wounds painted near his wrist. “You promised.”

Even without seeing the full of his face, you catch his expression fall. 

“I know, Cherry,” he murmurs. “And I’m trying, I promise. S’just…not that easy.”

Your throat constricts, growing dry from the implication. “I know.”

It’s almost inaudible, but your stranger still hears it, and he sighs as he slips his fingers between yours. Pulling your focus back to him. 

“You know you don’t have to worry about me,” he says, squeezing your palm as if to cement the point. “M’gonna be okay.”

“Are you?”

He looks gutted. Ashamed of your disappointment. “It’s just something that I have to do.”

“Why?”

He considers this before shaking his head once. “I don’t know.”

It’s the same answer every time. You ask him who does this to him. Why he does this to himself. Where he goes, why he keeps going back.

But he never offers anything concrete. Just enough to keep you hoping.

He leans closer. Desperate to make you understand. “I’m gonna be all right, Cherry. I promised, didn’t I?”

“But this isn’t ‘all right,’” you argue quietly, once again studying his scars. “You hurt yourself. Or you let somebody else hurt you. And I don’t know why.”

He takes in a breath before setting it free. “I don’t know why, either. But it’s not forever. And I promised you I would be okay. So, I will be.”

You release him and pull yourself from his grasp. Creating a physical distance much like his emotional one. 

“I have to be,” he adds, and that charming smirk reappears. Popping a dimple from his cheek. “I’d miss your pies too much.”

Even if your insides have twisted, you can’t help but laugh. “I suppose they’d miss you, too.”

“Good, I would hope. Might be my second-favorite sweet thing here. Only after you.”

Again, his coy remark leaves you entranced. Hands gathering on your lap as you look out through the large window beside you. “You’re quite forward tonight.”

“M’forward every night. You just don’t notice.”

“Is that right?”

“It is. Can’t really help myself, Cherry.”

The familiar nickname feels like home. It was coined after the first night he’d come in. He’d sat in your section – this very booth – and made small talk while you served him. 

He asked for your recommendation, and you suggested one of the desserts. The pies were your specialty, and you made a new one every evening. He seemed charmed by this and ordered two slices.

That night was cherry. He ate every bite between sips of his coffee and compliments to you. Leaving nothing but crumbs once you came to collect his plate.

He told you he loved cherry pie. It was his absolute favorite. But he’d never had a pie as good as yours.

And from that night on, you became his Cherry.

He never asked for your real name, and you never offered. You supposed this was intentional. A way to protect you from whatever life he led outside the diner doors.

And in the few weeks he’s been coming back for yet another slice of your pie, you’ve learned only three things about him:

He always pays with big bills.

He drives a vintage, black ’69 Mustang.

And his name is Harry.

Anything past that you suppose isn’t yours to know. Yet despite that, you feel drawn to your stranger. Even if he only seems to exist after midnight.

“You weren’t supposed to be working tonight,” he says, calling your attention back. 

You glance away from the window just in time to see his frown. “Joshua asked me to cover a few of his shifts,” you explain. “I’ll be here through the weekend.”

“You covered him last week,” he reminds you, with just a touch of disapproval. “And a few weekends before that.”

Your stranger is right, but you merely lift a shoulder and let it fall. “I don’t mind. The extra money is nice, and the night shift is always quiet.”

“Not always,” he retorts, and you notice the pull of his eyebrows. “Not everybody is as kind as you, Cher. Not in this part of town. Or this late.”

You can’t help but smile at his need to shelter you. “I know. But Owen is here, and he makes sure to check on me from time to time.”

However, Harry’s expression seems to settle into something hard and unnerved. “And what if he gets distracted? What if he doesn’t see some loser trying to grab for you? Or talk to you? Or take advantage of you?”

His voice is rising, a gentle but obvious crescendo that turns the heads of the few patrons scattered about the diner. 

You reach for his hand once more, squeezing it hard to implore him to listen. “Then I will use my extensive training as a waitress and kick their ass.”

You can tell he doesn’t want to, but he smiles. Brushing his thumb along your wrist before looking down. “I’m only trying to protect you.”

“I know,” you whisper, dipping down in order to find his eye. “But I’m not the one who needs protecting.”

The air is charged with a sort of tension you can’t explain. He feels so close and yet so very far away. Your heart aches for your stranger, and for his scars that never heal.

“Hey,” calls a loud voice, ringing through the small diner until you and Harry both turn. You find a man sitting near the counter, wearing a camouflage baseball hat and flannel shirt. His beard is long and scruffy, and his expression is wildly annoyed. “Do you fucking work here or not? Been waiting on a refill for ten goddamn minutes.”

Feeling rather embarrassed of the way you’ve neglected the other customers and deserted your post, you quickly slide out of the booth and stand. Cheeks warm and heart racing. “Yes, of course. I’m so sorry, sir.”

You rush to check on the coffee pot near the counter, making sure that it’s hot and fresh before you approach. Then, you tip the spout into his mug, and refill his drink that’s already three-fourths of the way full.

You can see Harry watching you from his spot. A similarly irritated look behind his eye as he studies the man sitting before you.

Once the coffee has been refilled, you nod an apology, and begin to retreat.

“Not so fast,” the customer grumbles, clearing his throat as he straightens up. Forcing you to hesitate. “I want my check. And a slice of pie on the house. For my troubles.”

Your heart leaps into your throat, but you nod again. The Starlight Diner doesn’t exactly offer free pastries, and anything that a staff member has to comp comes out of the employee’s paycheck. 

Granted, one slice won’t set you back too far, but the shame will. The idea that you left a customer waiting while you chatted with a man you hardly know. It’s unprofessional and not at all how you’d like to be perceived in the workplace. As a mindless girl who merely doddles her day away. Fawning over handsome strangers and daydreaming about a life she can’t have.

“Absolutely,” you tell him, rushing to grab him a fresh piece just as Harry begins to stand from the booth. “Will that be all?”

“Don’t be stingy with the whipped cream,” he instructs. “In fact, I’d like to see you put it on in front of me. So I can make sure you aren’t trying to fuck me over.”

The blood drains from your face. You feel humiliated under the warm hue of lights strung up around the restaurant. Grabbing the can of whipped topping in a desperate attempt to please and end the interaction all together.

“Why don’t you watch your fucking tone,” Harry grits, approaching the man from his left.

But the customer merely scoffs, refusing to offer him even a disinterested glance. “Yeah, and why don’t you mind your own business?”

Suddenly, Harry’s hand smacks down onto the counter beside him, inches from his plate while the coffee inside his mug trembles.

You can’t help but jump, arm recoiling away from the pie while the entire diner grows quiet. Everybody’s attention has turned to your stranger. Watching him closely as he leans forward, and dips down to catch the man’s eye.

“Wasn’t a question,” he murmurs darkly. “You watch your fucking tone when you speak to her. Or I’ll watch it for you.”

And you can tell the older gentleman is a bit off-put by Harry’s distressing demeanor. Yet he remains rather calm, clearing his throat again before leaning back. “And what are you gonna do about it, cupcake?”

Harry’s head cocks to the side. “Would you like me to show you?”

“Harry,” you whisper, just loud enough to force his eyes to yours. “It’s okay. It’s fine.”

“Yeah, she’s fine, buttercup,” the customer snorts, spinning around to face you once more. “Now let’s go, princess. I don’t have all fucking night.”

His fingers snap together before he points toward the pie. Instructing you to continue applying the fluffy cream until you hesitantly continue.

The whipped desert sprays out of the can in a steady stream, piling higher and higher atop the pie until it begins to spill over onto the side.

Yet he doesn’t stop you. He simply nods and mutters for you to keep going. To fill the plate until he’s satisfied. 

And you know exactly why he’s doing it. Not to satiate a sweet tooth but to demean you. To force you under his cruel, sadistic stare until you fold like a house of cards.

Your stranger fumes from his place a few feet away. You can tell he’s desperate to intervene, but he obeys your look of frantic insistence. Remaining quiet while you oblige the customer’s request. 

Soon, the can runs out. The last few drops spewing from the nozzle until you’re left with nothing but air and an empty bottle.

With a hitch in your breath, you begin to withdraw your hand. He’ll have to drop this degradation act now, and you hope that he only demands the rest of his check before going about his night.

However, before you can fully retract your arm, a collection of grimy fingers dart out and curl around your wrist. Keeping you in place while the man’s eyes narrow and he hisses, “Did I say you could stop?”

But the moment his palm touches your skin, Harry is stepping forward, grabbing a fistful of his collar, and hoisting him from his seat. Then, he shoves him back against the tile wall just behind him, the connection so forceful, it knocks the gentleman’s hat askew.

The other customers, including yourself, gasp from the sudden act of violence. Watching as Harry steps up to him and sneers in his face with the vilest look of disdain you imagine you’ve ever seen.

“Don’t ever…” he seethes through deep, even breaths, “…put your fucking hands on her…again.”

And he’s terrifying. So utterly terrifying, with his busted knuckles, his cracked lip, and his bruised jaw. It’s clear he’s a threat, and the man he’s holding goes deathly pale as Harry keeps him trapped against the wall.

All he can do is nod his understanding, choosing to end the fight before it can begin while Harry – after a very long moment – finally lets him go and allows him to flee from the diner.

There’s a stillness in the café that makes your heart race. The few regulars that are left watching on with a mixture of sympathy and embarrassment. It’s not until Harry shoots them their own venomous glare that they quickly turn away and continue on with their meals.

You slump into the counter, letting the can drop to your side while the sound of a door flinging open echoes from somewhere behind you.

“The hell…is going on?” Owen calls, exiting the kitchen in order to get a better look around. He finds you first, raking his stare up and down your frame before looking to Harry. “What happened?”

“You fucking left her out here, alone,” Harry barks. “That’s what fucking happened.”

Owen’s eyebrows raise as he moves his attention to you. But you quickly side-step into Harry’s path, attempting to end another confrontation before it can begin.

“Just…a customer,” you finally answer softly, reaching for the plate in order to clear your regret away. “It’s fine. He left.”

Your boss nods once. “But he paid first, yes?”

Again, your heart sinks into your toes. Lashes fluttering when you realize his bill will be coming out of your paycheck. “He…um, no, he…he left before I could collect it—”

“Darling,” Owen sighs, and it’s heavy with disappointment, “what did we talk about?”

“I…I know. I’ll…I’ll pay for it—"

Harry’s palm suddenly smacks down onto the counter for a second time this evening. Yet now, there’s a wad of cash beneath his hand. From the looks of it, well over a hundred dollars.

“This will cover it,” he mumbles, turning his unforgiving stare to your boss. “And it’ll cover the rest of her shift, too. She’s done.”

With that, his fingers are wrapping around your upper arm before you can even wrap your head around his offering. Blinking wildly while Owen glances from the cash to you in an effort to piece together Harry’s instruction.

 But your stranger leaves you no room for questioning or bargaining. He’s pulling you out the diner door and into the dark parking lot before you can even bid your boss goodbye.

He strides between the cars before hooking a left around the building. Leading you toward the back alleyway where he normally keeps his car, the wet pavement squeaking beneath his sneakers.

 And during this fervent stalking, his fingers slide down from your upper arm and into your hand. Grasping it tightly as if to make sure he won’t lose you.

Perhaps a part of you would like to feel miffed or ashamed of what just took place, but you can’t seem to fault him for his reaction. He’s always been nothing but kind to you – even if he doesn’t always lend that kindness to others. Expressing his desire to protect you, even if he doesn’t know you.

You wonder if this need to defend is part of the reason why you’ve only ever seen him covered in scars and bruises. If he comes to the diner in the dead of night in order to watch over you. Like a guardian angel or vigilante. 

Right now, however, he disappears into the shadows, gently pulling you along with him until you see his car only a few feet away. He releases you at the same time that he releases a heavy sigh, running a hand through his dark curls as his hood is pushed down. 

“Harry…” you begin quietly, tentative of startling him.

“I’m sorry,” he says before you can even finish. “M’sorry, I lost my temper. I know.”

You watch the way he turns away from you. Bracing himself against the hood of the Mustang while dropping his head in what you only assume is remorse.

And your heart aches for him. For the gentleman that lives beneath the outlaw. “Harry,” you whisper again, stepping closer in order run your fingers down his back. Feeling the way his muscles tense before melting beneath your touch. “I’m not mad, I promise.”

“I know you don’t like it when I interfere,” he mumbles, and it’s almost swept away by the cold, early morning air. “But he fucking touched you, and I—”

“I know,” you interrupt tenderly. “I know, and I’m not mad. I’m glad you did it. I’m glad you were here.”

He hesitates, face turning toward his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You allow your chest to meet his spine. “Always feel safer with you.”

He exhales deeply, releasing something heavy before he’s turning around, and reaching for your cheeks. The soft, stained gauze slides against your skin, and his touch is firm. Keeping you in his embrace while he gazes at you warmly. 

“Are you all right, Cherry?” he asks now, thumbs sweeping beneath your eyes. “Did he hurt you?”

Your head shakes. “No. Scared me a little, but I’m okay.”

It’s clear he doesn’t like this, that familiar frown reforming as he holds you a bit tighter. “He never should have spoken to you like that. Much less put his fucking hands on you—”

“I know, but it’s okay,” you interject again, hoping to ease his stress. “I’m okay because you were here.”

And this is the only thing that seems to calm him. That familiar smile of his the perfect remedy for such a strange night. You don’t want to tell him how often this happens. Especially during the later shift. But that’s what you get for working at a 24-hour diner, and you’re starting to think this is merely part of the job.

And truth be told…you think he already knows.

His forehead meets yours, and you can’t help but grin yourself. Grateful for the comfort he provides – stranger or not.

“Speaking of which…why are you here?” you ask gingerly. “I thought you didn’t come in on my days off?”

“I don’t. But…I saw your car.”

“Oh…how?”

His smirk transforms into something coy. “I was driving by.”

“Oh, really?” you tease. “On purpose?”

The smile slips now, a more reverent look in his eye as he nods. “I like to check on you. Make sure you’re okay.”

And maybe in any other universe, this would strike you as odd. Perhaps even unsettling or disconcerting. 

But even if you don’t know him, you know him. You know his intentions have only ever been pure, and even without having much more than his name, he has always made you feel safe. 

You choose to believe in him. In the goodness of your stranger and the care he provides. Inside and out.

“You do?” you murmur, allowing your hands to rest on his chest. “How often?”

A beat. Then, “…every night.”

The alley grows quiet. Scattered streetlamps reflect off the pools of water that are sprinkled across the cement, warming the dark night with their sepia-toned beams.

And you stand there, just you and him, while the weight of the world seems to rest on his shoulders.

But instead of chastising him or asking any further questions, you push yourself up onto your tiptoes…and kiss him.

It’s not the first kiss you’ve shared, and you know, undoubtedly, that it won’t be your last. Your stranger has been stealing your kisses for weeks now.

And you suppose stealing isn’t exactly a fair comparison. After all, you’ve nearly pleaded with him to kiss you every time he’s come in. 

Not that there’s much need for begging when he’s so willing to offer them to you. Sneaking you away the moment your shift is through. Chasing you through the parking lot…pulling you into the backseat of his car.

It makes you giddy. You feel like a schoolgirl with a crush on the handsome senior. Slipping into the shadows where he waits. Letting him hold you, kiss you, touch you.

It doesn’t matter if you don’t know more than his name or what he does behind closed doors. You choose to share these special – albeit somewhat scandalous – moments with the mysterious gentleman in booth 505.

“My sweet girl,” he breathes against your lips. The wonderfully delicious nickname melting on your tongue. “Missed you.”

You want to remind him that it’s only been about two days, but you can’t. Because you missed him, too.

“And m’so sorry,” he says next, trailing his quick but fervent kisses down your neck. “So fucking sorry for being so bad. Never wanna scare you or make you anxious.”

A soft, delicate noise bleeds from your throat, and you cling to his much stronger frame as though you’re afraid you’ll simply disappear without him.

“Wanna make it up to you,” he whispers. “Will you let me, Cherry? Let me be good again?”

You nod, needing him to keep himself as close to you as he’ll allow. You want to settle him in your lungs, keep him snug inside in your chest. Against your heart.

And a large part of you just wants to keep him…always.

“Let me make it better,” he says, hands dropping to your hips in order to push you toward his car. Placing you against the door in order to trap you and deepen his kiss. “Let me be good, sweet girl. Be good for you.”

And he’s always good. Good to you, good for you. It doesn’t matter how he is with everybody else. 

“Please?” he asks again, leaning back just far enough to catch your eye. “Will you let me?”

He wants your explicit consent. Wants you to say the words before he continues, and you appreciate this stricter habit. 

“Yes,” you manage to answer, exhaling the word with the little strength you still possess. “Yes, please—”

He takes your hand before you can finish, guiding you over toward the backseat before swinging the door open and stepping aside.

“Lay down, baby,” he mumbles gently, pressing a kiss to the side of your head while guiding you in. “On your back, okay? Want you comfy.”

You do as instructed, dipping down into the vehicle before settling into the soft, leather seat. Flipping over until you can find a position you like. 

Harry is quick to follow, landing between your thighs before pulling the door shut. You both maneuver until he can hover his body above yours, keeping you beneath him as he runs a palm up the side of your leg.

His warm hand feels good against your bare skin, the dress you’re required to wear as part of your waitressing uniform bunching just at the top of your knees from the new position. But it’s like ecstasy, heating up your goose bumped skin from the nippy air outside. 

“How’s this, hm?” He squeezes your hip. “You all right, Cher?”

You rest your head against the door and nod, fingers already itching to reach for him again. “Yes, I’m okay.”

“Promise?”

“Mhm. Promise.”

The side of his mouth curls up, and it makes your stomach flutter. “Good girl. Gonna go slow, okay? Earn my forgiveness.”

He continues the lazy strokes to your thigh, falling all the way down to your ankle before going back up. It is slow, and it almost drives you mad. Because he knows what you want. And he knows just how badly you want it.

Things with Harry never go further than you. Something you’re almost tempted to find odd, but he’s a giver. That was made clear from the first time. He derives more pleasure out of your orgasms than he apparently does his own. He only ever wants to touch you, taste you, feel you. It’s never about him. 

You often wonder if there’s a deeper reason for this. If he’s denying himself release on purpose or if he’s merely terrified of getting close. And occasionally you wonder if he simply just doesn’t want to fuck you, but something tells you that’s not the case.

Maybe one day you’ll be brave enough to ask.

Tonight, however, it seems he’s still determined to put the attention on you. Long fingers gently scratching at your leg until you shiver. It makes him grin.

“Can I see you, baby?” he asks softly, letting his eyes trail beneath the hem of your dress. “See how pretty you are?”

Again, you can only whine pitifully as you motion your head up and down quickly. Wanting to succumb to his strong touch. Only feeling grounded if he’s there to hold you.

“Thank you, sweet girl,” he breathes, using his scarred hands to push your outfit up a bit higher. Revealing your quivering stomach and the delicate pair of panties around your hips. 

They’re nothing special. In fact, you imagine they’re rather embarrassing. A simple, tan fabric that does absolutely nothing to make your pussy look more desirable. 

Perhaps it’s a little silly, but you like to look nice for him. On the nights you know he might be coming to see you (which has been every night you’ve worked since you met), you tend to pick prettier pairs. 

Some with lace, some with little bows. Sweeter colors, sexier colors. Anything that might make him smile.

But you hadn’t anticipated seeing him tonight, and now, you almost want to shy away. Lashes fluttering as you look up toward the roof of his car.

But he doesn’t seem to notice. Nor does he seem to care about the color around your waist, his eyes growing wide as his attention glues to the mesmeric sight before him. Pink, bruised lips parting with wonder while he moves closer. 

“Cherry,” he exhales, the feel of his breath sweeping against your bent knee, “missed you so much. Been forever, hm?”

You nod again, braving another glance just in time to see his hand lower. And then you feel him. Feel his thumb pressing gently into the front of your underwear, just above where your clit lies.

Your entire body seems to spark to life like the flicker of a flame. And you gasp, subtly bucking up into his touch in search of more. In search of him.

He smiles. “S’it feel good, honey?”

You let out a soft breath, chest nearly caving in as you whisper, “Harry…”

He looks up, eyes flicking to yours as that coy smirk grows. “What, baby? You okay?”

Of course you’re okay. He knows you’re okay, but you’ve noticed he likes to hear you say it. He likes to know he’s making it better for you. That he’s helping, that he’s doing good.

When you don’t answer, he returns to your pussy, fingers strumming up and down your covered cunt like he’s playing an instrument. Tuning your body to his needs. 

“Can I touch you?” he asks now, dipping down to nudge his nose beneath your jaw. Pressing a soft kiss to your throat. “Wanna touch you…be good for you, Cher. Was so bad…just wanna make it better.”

He’s attempting to atone for what he did in the diner. To apologize, offer his remorse.

And even if you know he has nothing to apologize for, you can’t find it in you to deny him. Reaching up to tangle your fingers in his curls as you tug him closer. Kissing him fiercely.

He’s hard on himself. You know he is. You don’t know why. You don’t know what the cause is. But you can see the repercussions. They’re painted all over his body, and he wears them proudly. 

He curses against your mouth, and you’re reminded then of his busted lip. Instantly pulling away while you mumble an apologetic, “I’m sorry. I forgot—”

“No,” he nearly groans, slipping his other hand around the back of your neck to keep you close. “No, it’s okay. I don’t mind, I promise. I like it.”

His kisses become hard again. Anxious, desperate, and rushed. As though he needs you in order to survive. His nose knocking into yours from the way he readjusts himself. Wanting to take you deeper, really taste you. 

You’ve never been so happy in your life.

He only pulls away in order to slip your panties down your thighs, pushing them to your ankles until he can really see you.

His entire expression softens the moment his eyes find you. Filled with a certain kind of hope and indulgence as he gazes at you almost tenderly. Unable to resist reaching out and letting his finger brush down your folds. 

You make another noise, but he doesn’t notice this one. Too content to be touching you. Feeling you. Spreading you open just to watch you drip.

“So fucking good to me,” he murmurs. “You know that, sweet girl? So perfect for me. Exactly what I need and far more than I deserve.”

You aren’t sure what he means, but the implication makes you frown. Pulling on his hair a bit harder while he moves to your clit and begins to press down.

The pressure of his thumb against the more sensitive nerves leaves you breathless. Squirming beneath him from the rush of pleasure that only serves in making you needier. 

“Always so warm,” he muses quietly. Almost as if to himself. “So soft. So sweet. Can’t ever get enough of you.”

It makes your head spin the way he seems to adore you. The way he talks about your body as if he can’t believe he’s lucky enough to behold it. To feel it, to get to indulge in it. Worshiping you like you’re his religion.

He begins to rub your clit in slow, teasing circles. Kissing you once more in order to taste your whines and feed off your desperation. Wet noises fill the car. Not just from your pussy, but from his frantic kisses that echo between the foggy windows. 

It makes you shiver, loving the way he nips at your bottom lip just to leave you restless. The way he whispers your nickname before moving to your neck, pulling your skin between his teeth and smoothing over the mark with his tongue.

He goes faster. Chasing after your whimpers and the way you arch your body into his. Loving how excitable you get from only a few flicks of his thumb across your sensitive clit.

Then, he slows down. Exhaling a heavy breath as if bracing himself to edge you. Like it hurts him more than it hurts you.

And you mewl pitifully as you cling to his broader frame and tug him down into your arms. “Harry—”

“I know,” he coos, and it’s gentle the way he speaks. Sympathetic almost. “I know, sweet girl. But m’not done with you yet. Just wanna keep you a little longer. Is that okay?”

You bury your face in his neck and make another noise. Something akin to his name that gets lost in the way he curses.

“It’s okay,” he tries again, allowing you to use his body like a lifeline. “I’ve got you, baby. All right? M’right here, I’ve got you.”

He proves this by resuming his sweet torture. Circling the nerves a time or two more before moving down. Smoothing through your folds and lowering toward the pooling of arousal that waits for him. 

You hear him hum. “So precious. S’this all for me, then? Mine to play with? Mine to taste?”

You whine, “Yes, yes, yes,” as quickly as your mouth will permit, and he chuckles. 

The tip of his finger dips inside, presumably to collect everything you have to offer him before he’s lifting it toward his lips.

And you settle back against the door to watch. Enchanted by the way he places you on his tongue and sucks. His lashes fluttering and cheeks flushing from the taste.

You don’t imagine you’ll ever get used to watching him do that. After all, you’ve never been particularly…unbothered by the idea of somebody tasting you. Not even with past partners. You get too caught up in your own head. Worried about the taste, the feel, the smell.

Truth be told, most of the men you’ve been with before were never interested in you. They wanted what you could give them. And then they wanted out.

By all accounts, Harry is nothing like anyone else you’ve ever known. Not just because of the mystery that follows his persona, but because of his endless attention to you. To what you need, what makes you feel good. 

He devotes every second to making you feel like you’re God’s gift to Earth. A gift to him. Praising you for simply existing. Indulging in your taste as though you're the sweetest dessert he’s ever had.

Like now, while a deep moan reverberates from the depths of his chest. Filling the car and your ears like music, making your thighs clench around his hips.  

“S’why I call you my sweet girl, you know that?” he murmurs, sucking on his fingers until you’re sure there’s nothing left. And even then some. “So fucking sweet for me. Can’t ever get enough. Gonna get me addicted, baby. Might already have.”

The moment he takes his hand back out, you’re lifting up, and pressing your mouth to his. And you don’t even care if you can taste yourself on his tongue because all you really taste is him.

But the mixture of him, and you, and the slight tang of blood from the busted fibers of his lip is euphoric. Strange but lovely in a way you hadn’t anticipated. 

He seems to understand this despondency, growing a bit more frantic in his need to please. No longer focused on edging as he drops his fingers back to your cunt while his other hand moves for the buttons on your chest.

He pops them free one by one until your equally plain bra is revealed to him. But again, he doesn’t take notice of such things. Instead swallowing thickly at the sight of your breasts that swell behind the cups.

He kisses you again. And again, and again. Then he moves to your cheek and down your neck. Trailing his tongue toward your collarbone and along your sternum. 

You feel restless. Waiting for something – for him. You already know how magical his touch is. You already know the kind of pleasure he provides, and it nearly drives you mad to simply sit in anticipation. Stuck on his time.

Eventually he reaches your chest, lips moving for the curve of your tit before he’s making another noise and sucking into the tender flesh. Nipping at it, pulling it between hungry teeth. Smoothing over the marks with the warmth of his mouth while you reel.

Your hands disappear back into his hair. Stroking the curls almost fondly, nails lightly scratching at his scalp.

He’s always seemed to enjoy this. Instructing that you pull on him as hard as you’d like. That you tug and scratch. That you use him to inflict your pain and your pleasure. That you think of him first and foremost.   

Now is no different. He nuzzles himself further into your breasts while simultaneously sighing with contentment at the way your hand feels against his head. The way you keep him close to your heart. 

You’d keep him forever if you could.

You hardly even notice the way his finger has slipped inside. The way it strokes your delicate walls that flutter from the intrusion, tensing before relaxing in order to allow him in.

“There,” he whispers, pleased with the way your body obeys him. “S’okay. Gonna make it better. I promise.”

And you know he will.

“So tight today, baby,” he says, leaving another kiss to the swell of your chest. Open-mouthed and messy. “Has it been that long?”

You don’t know. You can’t remember the last time he touched you, although you’re almost sure it hasn’t been more than a week. The two of you have become rather insatiable for each other. Chasing after a kind of release you only seem to find within the hands of the other.

Those beautiful green eyes flitter up to yours, studying you closely. Benevolently. “Have you not been taking care of yourself, sweet girl?”

You take a moment to consider what he means before you feel your cheeks warm. Offering him nothing more than a quick shake of your head.

He frowns, brows pulling together. “Why not, hm? Thought you promised you’d try for me. Help make things better when I’m not around.”

You shrug, growing a touch embarrassed. “I know, but…it’s not the same. Don’t like it.”

“Is that right?”

Another shake. “Get bored.”

“Bored,’ he repeats, and there’s a certain glint in his eye. But instead of disappointed, he seems empathetic. “Cause it’s not the same, yeah? Your fingers too small?”

Now you nod, making a noise of agreement. 

He nods along with you, beginning to smirk. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Bet it’s just so frustrating, isn’t it? Trying to find all your sweet, little spots, but just not quite being able to reach?”

You cling to him as he stretches you a bit further. Doing everything you can’t do for yourself. Effortlessly curling his finger into that one spot until you begin to shake.

“Just like that, hm?” he mumbles, pressing another kiss to your collarbone. “S’that what you can’t find, baby? S’that what’s so achy?”

And it is. It’s so infuriatingly sore that it almost makes you cry. Wishing you could chase after that feeling until your heart gives out. 

“I bet.” More kisses to your chest. “Don’t worry. I’m gonna fix it, okay? Make it all better again.”

“Please?” you whimper, nails scratching down his broad back. Attempting to pull him closer. 

“Mhm.” He leans forward and brings his lips to yours now. His kiss quick but full of promise. “Always gonna take care of you.”

He begins to thrust the longer digit in and out. Slow enough to work you up but fast enough to leave you wanting more. Coaxing the muscles open before bringing a second finger into play.

The sounds of your wetness being pushed and pulled by his hand are sinful. Sending a chill down your spine and directly into your cunt.

You moan when you feel them, writhing a bit beneath his body until he has to press his leg into yours to keep you still.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he mumbles. Leaving another kiss below your jaw. “Know you can take it, baby. You always do. Don’t you?”

And even if that’s true, you aren’t opposed to the slight sting. Instead invigorated by it and the way he uses great care with you. Wanting to make sure you’re all right so he can please you the way he wants.

Yet somehow, it’s still not enough. Even with the way he curls, and pumps, and thrusts those beautiful digits into your pussy, you feel empty. Barely scratching the surface of that itch as he presses his chest to yours to calm you.

Your noises are becoming more pathetic. Your entire being heaving with the weight of promised pleasure in a way you can’t seem to understand.

His thumb presses into your clit every few minutes, attempting to guide you closer to your release, and it works. The combination making your stomach coil until you nearly see stars. Every cell in your body tightening.

“You close, Cherry?” His free hand moves for your face. Palm pressing into your jaw as the bandage on his knuckles sweeps across your cheek. “Hm? You gonna cum for me?”

And you are. You are, you are. You can almost taste it. Can feel it bubbling up from between your thighs, ready to unravel like the seams on your favorite sweater. 

“Yes,” you gasp, arching from the leather seat. “Yes, please…please don’t stop. Please—”

“Won’t stop,” he promises in a soothing tone, lips ghosting atop yours. “Never stop, I promise. M’gonna be right here until you do, okay? Go ahead. I’ve got you.”

And this is all you need. It happens suddenly and yet far too slowly. Pulling you apart from the inside out. 

You moan so loud, your chest shakes. Eyes rolling back and nails scratching down his spine as it hits you. 

Instantly, he moves his hand from your jaw to your lips. Palm pressing hard against your mouth in order to silence you as he whispers, “Shh, baby. Gotta be quiet for me, okay? It’s okay, you’re all right. Just let go—"

And you do. Allow your body to deplete itself of all energy as he works you through every goddamn second. Dragging it out as far as it’ll go. Increasing the speed of his flicks and thrusts. Pumping your orgasm out of you until it sits in his waiting hand.

“Good,” he breathes before finally removing his hand in order to kiss you quickly. Fingers squeezing the back of your neck as he brings you closer. “So fucking good, there you go. S’okay. Keep going, come on.”

And it’s so good, so wonderful. You feel like you’re floating, high up into the clouds. You decide then that he must be an angel, carrying you in his wings and setting you on a sunset.

But you’re still squirming, seemingly discontented, and he notices far too easily. “You okay, Cher?”

“More,” you whisper faintly. “More…please…”

“More,” he echoes. “My sweet girl wants more. More what, hm? What do you need?”

“More,” is all you say. Once again wiggling your hips down as if to sink his fingers in further. “More, Harry, please.”

“Oh. You want another one. Is that it?”

You nod silently, too strung-out to think in coherent sentences.

He chuckles again, kissing your other cheek before pinching your chin. “All right. Give you as many as you want, baby.”

Feeling incredibly grateful, you allow your trembling limbs to fall slack. Once again settling beneath him as he works to get you to your second.

But even as he resumes the languid but practiced thrusts of his fingers, you feel unsatiated. Eager for something else, but you aren’t sure what.

He realizes before you do. “S’not enough, is it?” he coos. “Need something bigger, don’t you?” 

That’s what it is, and you nod eagerly as your nails scratch down the sleeves of his hoodie. 

“Think you can take something bigger? Think you can take another finger, baby?”

Another nod. Faster, more fervent. Eyes pleading with him to give you anything he has to offer.

He obliges this, glancing down before lining his fingers up, and slowly slipping all three inside.

This stretch is a bit more prominent. He’s deliberately gentle, never giving you more than he assumes you can handle. 

And he watches you closely. Searching for any grimaces or winces of discomfort. 

When he finds none, he seems relieved, kissing up from your chest to your throat once more. “Good girl. There you go.”

You begin to writhe a little more ardently until he has to bring his other hand to your knee in order to press it down into the seat. Keeping you spread and still until you settle.

“Easy,” he coos gently, placing some of his weight onto your thigh. “Gonna have to be good, baby, and relax for me. Let me make you feel good, okay?”

You want to obey. You do, really. But the overstimulation and sensitivity from your first orgasm is almost too much. Making you choke on the heated air until you can hardly breathe.

“Like it when I take care of you, don’t you?” he asks you now. Licking a stripe along your jaw. “Like it when I steal you away from them?”

He’s right, you do. Perhaps you shouldn’t, but there’s something about the way he makes you feel as though you deserve more than this. As though you’re meant for more than the diner. He makes you feel invincible.

“Maybe one day I’ll take you away,” he decides. “Fucking take you from them and make you mine. Forever. For always.”

And you decide you like the sound of that.

Another moment of his strenuous torture passes before he leans back to watch. And you notice something in his face. Utter fascination and lust over the way your body bends to his will. Over the way it stretches around his fingers, the way he pulls it open.

He releases a deep, coarse groan through clenched teeth. Fixated on the way his fingers disappear into your pussy. “Taking me so well, baby. Know you’d take my cock, too, wouldn’t you?”

You whimper miserably, undone by the thought. You can’t deny that you’ve wondered what he’d feel like. All of him, stretching you open. Fucking into you while leaving you a panting mess.

You often imagine what he’s like in bed. In an actual bed and not in the backseat of his car or yours. What he might be like when he’s truly lost himself to the pleasure. Guiding his hips to yours, bending you into a hundred and one positions meant just for his indulgence. 

You wonder if he’d be just as careful as he is now. Just as devoted to you. If he’d be hard and fast or soft and slow. If he has dirty kinks, secret fantasies. If he likes the lights on or off. If he likes the bed or if he likes it up against the wall. 

You hope one day you get to find out. 

“Think you would, yeah?” he continues, sliding his digits all the way to the knuckle. The fibers of the gauze brushing against your clit. “Know you would. Be so good for me. This sweet little pussy would treat me so well, wouldn’t it?”

You nod quickly, pouting at him anxiously.

“I know,” he tuts, finally leaning back over to kiss you again. “Know you’d be such a good girl for me. Let me work you open until you could fit me…let me stretch you just right.”

You reach out for his wrist in search of something to squeeze, and it makes him chuckle. Teeth sinking into your bottom lip until you moan.

“Might take a while,” he muses. “Might take hours. Days. I’ll have to just keep you in my bed until you can fit me, hm?”

He attempts to pull away, but you chase after him. Looping an arm around his neck in order to yank him back to you. 

His smirk feels good against your lips. “M’not going anywhere, sweet girl. Just like to watch you. Bet it’d be fun to watch you take my cock, wouldn’t it? Watch it sink right into this tight little hole.”

He’s evil. Absolutely sadistic and it makes you groan against his tongue until he has to soothe you.

“I know, baby. One day,” he breathes. “I promise. M’gonna take you away and do it right. Make it worth it.”

The thrusting of his fingers becomes more poignant. Enough to drive a plethora of desperate moans from your chest as he nuzzles his nose below your jaw and simply breathes.

“Gonna worship you. Give you everything you deserve.” He sucks in a quiet inhale before dancing his lips along your throat. “Have you sit on my face until I can’t breathe.”

The image has your eyes rolling back. Even if you aren’t sure you’d ever feel comfortable doing so, you’re enamored by the idea. Of the thought of him holding onto your thighs, pressing you down to his mouth. Completely controlling you. 

“Can never breathe when I’m with you, anyway,” he whispers, and you almost don’t catch it. You wonder if you were meant to. “M’gonna do it right, sweet girl. I promise.”

And this is the vow that pulls you through to the other side. Large digits curling up into that one spot that makes your legs shake and you’re falling apart for the second time.

But he still doesn’t stop. Stroking, pressing, pumping even after the tears have begun to slip from your eye. 

“Keep going, there you go. Does it feel good? Feel so good, cumming all over my hand?”

And it does, but you can’t exactly answer. Can’t seem to do anything but cry out as you ride the wave and his fingers as though your life depends on it.

“Doing so good,” he murmurs gently, raising up to kiss you once more. Swallowing your pitiful mewling. “So fucking good, baby. M’so proud of you. Took me so well. So beautiful when you cum, Cherry, you know that? Could watch you forever.”

The sentiment makes your entire body grow warm. You’ve always wondered what you might look like when you orgasm, and truth be told, you imagine it’s not very pretty.

But to hear him say it now – so earnestly – makes your stomach wrench. Nails curling into the seat below as you lift off the leather and knock your chest into his.

He holds you as tight as he can before slowly pulling his fingers out. Relieving you from the overstimulation before putting you back in his mouth. Sucking until a string of saliva drips down his into the gauze on his knuckles. Painting it a much prettier picture than the red has.

After swelling every drop of you with a lewd groan, he finally pulls his hand out, and takes you into his arms. Kissing you through the remnants of the blissful rush.

“So good,” he says again, face burying back into your neck while stroking your thigh with his soaked fingers. “Always make me so proud.”

Your limbs tangle with his as you both slouch into the backseat. Allowing your heart beats to synchronize into one, steady rhythm. 

And once they have, you begin to grin. “Harry?”

“Mm?”

“Thank you.”

He exhales a soft laugh before leaning back onto his knees to get a good look at you. “What for, sweet girl?”

“Just for…this, I suppose,” you mumble shyly. “For all of it. Tonight. Standing up for me and…you know, this part.”

His chuckle becomes a bit more smug. “Are you thanking me for making you cum?”

“I’m…trying. I think.”

“Hm.” His grin is playful and so damn charming as he dips back down to hover his lips near yours. “Don’t have to thank me, Cherry. Believe me. It’s my pleasure.”

His teasing remark makes you giggle, and you kiss him hard before he has the chance to leave you again.

You kiss for a while. A long while. Until you can hardly breathe, your muscles beginning to ache and your eyelids beginning to grow heavy from the lack of sleep in this early morning hour. 

It’s not until you actually yawn that Harry finally remembers to pull himself away and reach for the panties around your ankles. “Shit, it’s late, isn’t it? Know I’ve kept you longer than I should have.”

With a quick shake of your head, you push up onto your elbows. “No. I’m fine, I promise. Just…cumming makes me sleepy, I guess. And you’re so warm. It’s nice.”

This makes him smile again, and that dimple of his makes your heart ache. “You know I’d keep you in this car until the sun came up if I could.”

“I know.” Your fingers outstretch for his hoodie, tangling into the material on his stomach while he guides your underwear back up around your hips. “Maybe one day, yeah?”

His expression softens, and you almost swear you see a flash of sadness behind that sage green. “Yeah. Maybe.”

It’s quiet as you rebutton your dress and pull the hem back down. And even quieter as Harry opens the door and slips out of the car, extending his hand toward you in order to help you out as well.

But once you’ve straightened up and turned to face him, you see that something has changed. A look of longing that hadn’t been there before etched between those scarred features.

His thumb brushes just beneath your eye and then down to your lips. Tracing the lines and dips before he sighs and cradles your cheek in his palm. “Are you gonna be all right?”

You place your hand over his and squeeze. “Are you?”

Another deep breath. Heavier and more forlorn. “You know I’ll try.”

“Promise?”

His forehead meets yours, and you both still. “I promise.”

And you choose to believe him.

You say goodbye, and regretfully let him go. Shaky legs carrying you back to your car as his eyes follow you all the way. Making sure you get there safely before you take off down the road and leave him behind.

A few nights later, you’re back for your next shift. And truth be told, you’re almost excited. Because having to go so long without him feels like a form of punishment. Like your days aren’t nearly as bright without him. And neither are your nights.

You can’t help but count the seconds as you go about your evening. Unable to distract yourself with the pastries no matter how hard you try. Thoughts drifting back to those chocolate curls and that devilish smile.

When midnight strikes, you feel relieved. Releasing a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding as you grab your notepad and slip out of the kitchen. Ready to greet him in his favorite booth.

But the moment you slip past the door, you find that the diner is empty. Not a single customer to greet you as you scan the floor in search of that familiar face. Even a glimpse of his shoes or the sound of his voice.

But the booth is empty, the diner is quiet, and it’s 12:06. 

Your stranger isn’t here.

I know not too much has happened yet but we are building up to tons more smut and plot and angst and fluff, I swear!! 😭💞

Next Part:

~ Whiplash*

~ Main Masterlist

~ Blurb Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @lovebittenbyevans @caynonmoondreams @amberbambridge

[targaryenluvs]

— TRAPPED (WORDS NOT SAID)

pairing: dark!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

warnings: cold!corio, murder, nc kissing, possessiveness, very controlling thoughts and actions, arranged marriage, cheating, dark-ish themes since he’s literally insane HAVE U SEEN THE BOOKS? not proof read

summary: after the 10th hunger games, coriolanus set his sights on a girl from his younger years to be his wife. disgusted by his actions and scared by the rumours your family agreed. as you realise he wasn’t the same boy from before, snow finds himself intrigued, especially when you seem to be visiting a friends house too often.

word count: 1.9k words

a/n: i don’t usually write toxic shit but like that’s the definition of snow and his cute lil intrusive thoughts so here u go 😘 this man is a bad man especially after lucy. so i find it so funny when he’s super sweet in some fics but he’s super like ooh she needs protection, oh she’s fragile you get me???

PLEASE READ WARNINGS

there was no point in crying.

you knew that.

but at the prospect of marrying a man whom you barely even knew scared the hell out of you, and the thought of not being with your albeit secret boyfriend, not getting to marry him, start a life with him? it was unbearable.

your dress was crisp white, like snow. of course.

the memories of that day were jumbled in your head, you remember being stuffed into a dress, your hair and face being pulled every which way and holding coriolanus’s hands as you listened to his vows, void of emotion in the eyes but with a slight smile on his face. you couldn’t even recall what happened afterwards. and you didn’t want to. coriolanus hadn’t even let you properly bid your family farewell before he’d sweeped you away to your new home, courtesy of your parents and the plinths.

and even if your home was cold and distant you tried your best to be nice and easy with snow. you’d wear what he wanted, did what he wanted and everything else. you could tell he found comfort in control, knowing what was happening, being able to tell people what to do. even if you hated to admit it, it suited him.

in a rare moment, his mask would slip. the mask that kept his true thoughts and emotions neatly stored away, it would fall. and you revelled in them, a genuine smile, across his face. but as soon as it slipped, his walls were back up and he was straightening his red coat and out the door.

over the next months you’d learnt to keep yourself in check, there was no point in trying to bond with coriolanus, he knew his boundaries in your relationship? marriage? whatever it was, it was just on paper. you were mere passing acquaintances at best. you’d have breakfast together, he’d leave the house, you’d occupy yourself with the house, the library, entertainment, shopping, he’d come home, dinner and then off to your rooms.

but over a few weeks ago you’d met someone new.

andrenis was insanely gorgeous, his eyes shone in the sun and his brown hair reminded you of chocolate. he was breathtaking and he loved you. it’d been so long since you felt love, pure and devoted love to someone. the vacant halls of coriolanus’s and yours home were at the back of your mind in his presence.

at first youd started of friends of course and as you continued you felt, alive. every time he looked at you, talked to you everything faded to the back of your mind. but what you didn’t know was that snow had taken note. he’d noticed you skipping out on breakfast at times, your maids always claiming that you’d been reading late, working late and so on.

working late? you were married to him, what work could you possible have? why were you sleeping so late? could you not do your reading during the day? what was taking your attention, who?

even if you didn’t talk much, let alone see eachother you were a constant in his life now. something that gave him comfort of sorts. small talk with you in the morning and night, seeing you in the halls, your laugh echoing through the halls as you talked with staff, your scent lingering in the library and the drops of blood on his roses, since you were the only person whom he allowed to tend to them.

for him, you were security.

he knew you wouldn’t leave since you had no reason to. there was no love holding you to this relationship, you had a comfortable life, your friends and family in your reach and the luxury that you lived in. you were free, in your eyes. but in reality the second your own pen touched that paper and you signed the certificate your life was taken from you. even if you didn’t know it, coriolanus had been monitoring you from afar.

keeping track of what you did, where you went, what you spent. it was all to make sure you made it home of course. nothing less, nothing more.

so imagine his surprise when he heard reports of you sneaking out of the house and returning in the early hours of the morning.

for some reason he couldn’t help the pang of jealousy in his heart. why on earth would you be sneaking out? was this home not enough? the roof over your head and the food in your stomach? the bed you sleep in and the man you call your husband. your loyalty should be unwavering yet here he was, watching you creep out of the house through the servants quarters.

his jaw clenched and his fists curled as you laid your hands against his chest, foreheads against the others. “i’ve missed you my love.” the man’s voice echoed through his head.

words he’d never said to you.

“i know, but we are together and that is all that matters. i love you andrenis.”

words you’d never said to him.

“i’m to visit district 12, my father wishes for me to visit my brother. you know what he did, his punishment was to be a peacekeeper. but his time is up and mother misses him terribly. i do not know how long i will be y/n, but i will bring you back whatever you wish.”

“and what exactly will you get from district 12 that my dear wife will will not be able to get here?” it wasn’t a question, even if it was said as one. there was not a single thing that he wouldn’t give his wife. to keep up your appearances of course, he couldn’t have you going without something you wanted.

your heart was racing and your hands sweaty as you instantly pulled away from andrenis. snows eyes bore into his, andrenis breathed deeply before speaking, “coriolanus. you look good, rising above the ranks, marrying up are we?”

andrenis layworth. not only did coriolanus despise him but he knew how he truly acted. he should’ve stayed away from things that weren’t his, never were and never would be.

“andrenis!” you scolded him, it was already embarrassing in your eyes to be caught with him by your husband but you wouldn’t let him mock coriolanus.

your husband reached his hand out towards you, and you accepted as he spoke up. “i hope your travels are safe, andrenis.” the two of you walked away, him placing you into the car before shutting the door. he tapped on the back as you drove back home, without him to your surprise.

andrenis was taken aback. in all the time he’d been with you, you’d failed to mention your husband was him. and as much as andrenis would hate to say it, snow did intimidate him. nowadays at least. he rarely showed emotion, he was always proper and dressed appropriately, but all that didn’t matter when snow had his mind. his wit, intelligence and cunning was far more impressive than most.

he’d always kept himself in check.

but as coriolanus snow walked towards him with certainty he backed himself all the way into the dark alley as he was grabbed by his collar and slammed into the wall. “my wife. she is my wife, no one else’s. just because your pockets may be deeper than mine does not mean that i won’t hesitate to get you out of my way. you could never be worthy of her and if you so much as look at her, i will make sure you will never see the light of day. perhaps you’ll have a fall, or a crash with your traitor brother?”

the mask had fallen and the only thing left behind it was pure rage.

“or maybe we’ll hang? what would that be, three deaths on your hands?” andrenis smirked as coriolanus’s face dropped. he grabbed andrenis and shoved him infront, pushing him to walk. “you’re going to district 12 and you will never come out.” andrenis laughed loudly, “such terror you impose, poor coriolanus, clawing his way to the top. marrying a woman by force-”

“on second thought.”

a single gun shot rung through the air.

“district 12 isn’t low enough for you.” snow spoke as andrenis tried to crawl away from him. “no place on earth deserves the dishonour of having you waste their resources. the air you breathe is a privilege, that should not be taken by you.” coriolanus pulled him up by his hair, “the second you decided to be with her, was the day that you died.”

andrenis’s eyes were closing, fear swimming around. but corio couldn’t bring himself to care. his mind was clouded, for once he wasn’t thinking clearly. as he walked back into the house he saw you, sat with your head in your hands, jumping up at the sound of him entering. “corio.”

his heart was beating erratically at the sound of your voice, so soft and welcoming. why hadn’t he noticed your sweetness before?

“i’m so sorry, i- i was weak. we rarely speak to eachother, let alone allow ourselves to love. with andrenis, he reminded me of it, reminded me how it felt to love and to be loved. i won’t see him again, i promise.”

so submissive, rather than standing your ground. getting angry at him for forcing you into the marriage, for not talking to you, you were apologising. whilst you may have been disloyal he saw it only as a weakness. a bad habit to which he could help, he could fix. and he knew you’d keep your promise, not because you’d try your hardest but because andrenis was a cold stiff body in the bottom of a construction site. a mugging victim? an accident? it didn’t matter how his passing was seen as, he was gone and he’d never return.

he’d made sure of it.

as he walked towards you the scene from before replayed in his head as you walked backwards with every step you took, and in your eyes he saw what he craved to enforce, terror. and you were so small to him, something fragile, in need of control and order.

“don’t worry, i’ll keep you safe, i’m all you need.” corio spoke as his face got closer. the rise and fall of your chest was rapid, your eyes were wide as you realised what he was trying to do. you quickly turned your head but he quickly forced you to look at him, fingers digging into your face, “i give you everything, i will always give you everything. you deserve nothing but the best and i am the only one who can give it to you, you need me. do you understand?” he questioned as you began to cry, you’d never seen him so unhinged. his hair was slightly out of place, a strand infront of his eye.

(zayn malik vibes)

his coat was off, most likely hung on the door way and his sleeves were rolled, his usually pristine white shirt was crinkled, dirty. what had he been doing after you left? you’d gotten your answer as your teary eyes blinked away the tears, focused on his bare arms,

blood.

“corio, please. what did you do?” you cried as his hand made its way to your neck as he pressed your forehead to his, your stomach swirling and head spinning as a sense of deja vu crossed you, andrenis.

“what i had to, i will always do what i have to. nothing is ever handed to me.”

“you didn’t-”

he laughed, “snow lands on top, in life and on you.”

(going to puke why did i write that it’s so cringe)

the kiss was nothing like you ever had. it wasn’t sweet, passionate, rather hungry, as if he was chasing you, afraid you’d run. as if you could, he’d let one girl get away and with how he looked at you in this moment?

you were trapped.

[lovebugism]

could i request “mean” eddie and reader going swimming somewhere and maybe she’s in her swimsuit and someone says something that makes him jealous? also just want to say i love you writing sm!!! <3

hi, lovely! thanks so much for your request and your kind words!! i hope you like it xoxo (1.7k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

Eddie can’t stop staring at you.

It’s not like it’s his fault, though. You’re all sprawled out beside him in a plastic lounge chair, clad only in a bathing suit that leaves little to the imagination. It’s an all-black number with little white bats all over it, clinging to you like it was made to do it.

It’s a wonder the two of you even made it to Hawkins Community Pool, honestly. Eddie's thoughts verge on obscene at the sight of you. But then again, they tend to when you're on his mind.

You lay with your hands folded above your head, totally surrendering yourself to the golden sunlight. It gives Eddie the opportunity to gaze at you fully — even though sometimes he thinks he’s already memorized you by now.

He analyzes you like it’s the first time he’s ever seen you, like you’re the last thing he’ll ever see.

The pudge of the top of your breast spills over the hem of your bikini. The skin of your stomach bulges underneath your high-waisted bottoms. The fullness of your thighs begins to glow beneath the glittering daylight.

He commits all of this to memory and figures maybe that’s what the sun’s doing too, as it paints your skin more golden.

He doesn’t know how he got you. 

But he hopes your eyes are closed behind your thick glasses. Or, at the very least, that they block your view of him. Eddie knows he’s unabashedly staring at you, but he also knows he can’t stop. He doesn’t want his ogling to be met with your teasing — even if he is deserving of it.

The Lord of the Rings book in his hands goes quickly abandoned. It’s a feat he even made it to page fifty. He’s flipped through it enough times to memorize it, though. Sort of like you.

Like the novel, he could read you a million times and never get bored. The only real difference is he finds you much, much sexier than printed words on a page.

“I can feel you staring, you know?” 

Your voice jolts him from his stupor, light and golden like the slowly setting sun. Your words are nearly drowned out by the sounds of the bustling pool — screaming kids, splashing water, and people trying to converse over it all.

Eddie’s far too attuned to you not to hear you, though.

You’re not looking at him, but he can see the corner of your lip quirk in a slight half-smile.

“Can you?” he deadpans, turning back to his book like he hadn’t been looking at you at all.

The words are all mush, though. He’ll blame it on the stifling summer heat. He was the idiot out here in a black t-shirt and trunks, after all.

“Yeah,” you nod.

He sees your smile completely when you turn to look at him. The sun pierces through your amber lenses, making your eyes more visible beneath them. You’ve got one eye squinted to evade the blinding light. The beam you wear is somehow brighter.

“’S like spidey senses, you know? I can always tell when you’re looking at me, Munson.”

Eddie wants to be embarrassed at the thought. He knows that you’re joking — if only just the slightest bit — but it makes him think about all the other times he’s shamelessly gawked at you. He spent years doing it before you ever got together.

Many of his high school years were spent paying more attention to you than his homework. He thinks maybe that’s why he had such a hard time graduating.

“You’re saying my girlfriend’s a superhero?” the boy jokes, brows raised behind his curly bangs and chocolate eyes going wide. They look more golden in the sunlight, and they twinkle with mischief.

“Uh-huh,” you hum with a wider smile than before. “You didn’t know?”

He shakes his head. Some of his curls still stick to him, damp with the sweat beading on his milky skin. “No. I can confidently say that I didn’t.”

“Good. It was supposed to be a secret, anyway.”

Eddie doesn’t mean to laugh, but he does.

It’s a sharp exhale through his nose more than anything, paired with a crooked pink smile. He wishes he knew how much of a dork you were a year ago. He might’ve asked you out sooner.

“Brush up on your spidey senses before you go out patrolling the neighborhood, alright, Spiderwoman?” he jests in a monotone, turning the page of his book even though he hadn’t actually read it. “’Cause I totally wasn’t staring at you.”

You know he’s lying.

And it’s not just because you could feel it — even though you think his button-eyed gaze can be palpable in its attentiveness at times. But what you lacked in superhero senses, you made up for in awareness of all things Eddie Munson. 

You knew when he got quiet that he was in his own head. And being that you hadn’t heard a single page turn in several minutes, you figured his eyes must’ve been on something other than the book in his hands.

Your quip was hardly more than a lucky guess, really.

“Good,” you hum as you flip over onto your stomach. Your backside had been completely deprived of sunlight before now. You prop yourself up on your elbows and lift your sunglasses to the top of your head. Your teasing gaze is no longer amber-coated. “‘Cause that would mean you find me attractive.”

“And that would just be a travesty, wouldn’t it?” Eddie scoffs.

He looks over at you again and finds your changed position. Your back is pointed towards the sun now, the very bottom of your ass on full display. Your thighs are indented softly from the slatted chair beneath you.

He can’t pry his eyes off the combination of the two despite knowing you’re watching him right back.

“It’s okay if you have the hots for me, Eds,” you tell him, feigning sympathy. “I’d only make fun of you a little bit.”

Eddie stays silent for half a moment too long, then shakes his head to dismiss the thought. “Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart. It’s just the heat.”

You scoff. “Yeah. Let’s blame the way you’re ogling at me on sunstroke.”

He still finds it a bit difficult to be your boyfriend sometimes — or just a boyfriend. And it’s not because of you. Not in the slightest. He just sort of put a wall around himself when he was younger. He’s been behind it so long he’s forgotten how to let people back in.  

And even though he hasn’t said it yet, he loves the goddamn shit outta you. But for some reason, he can’t let himself be vulnerable in that way — can’t even ask to touch you without coming up with some lame excuse that covers up all his vulnerable-ness.

“You, uh… You put sunscreen on, right?” he asks, shifting slightly in his chair. He spares a brief glance your way from the corner of his eye, halfway concealed by the fluffy brown curls framing his face.

“Yeah?” you answer with pinched brows. “Right after I forced you to put some on, remember?”

He scrunches his nose as he squints at you. It takes everything in you not to lean over and kiss the tip of it. “I don’t know,” the boy singsongs as he tilts his head to his shoulder. “I don’t remember it, actually…”

“Then maybe you’re the one that needs to get checked out, Eds.”

“I think I should just put some lotion on your back,” he summarizes with a shrug, already rising from his chair to swing his legs over the side of it. “You know, just to be safe.”

The teasing glint in his eyes makes you grin. You trap your bottom lip between your teeth to dim its brightness, lest how happy he makes you go to his head.

Your feet lift in their air and twist together with a girlish excitement. It makes your ass wiggle gently. Eddie swears you’re doing it just to tease him.

“Get my legs, too, while you’re at, yeah?” you quip.

Eddie reaches for the tote beside your chair with an effervescence that can only be described as a boy on Christmas morning — his present: the opportunity to touch you. He rises again with the blue bottle in his hand.

A low whistle sounds from behind the both of you.

“Looking good, sweetheart,” Billy compliments with a smirk as he walks by your chair. He’s in his lifeguard uniform — a pair of red swim trunks and his toned, golden torso.

He lifts his sunglasses from his face and rests them on top of his curled mullet. His crystal blue eyes gape at you, far sharper than Eddie’s chocolate syrup ones.

“Bite me, Hargrove,” you deadpan in response.

“I like the sound of that,” he laughs, chomping spearmint gum between his pearly white teeth. He spins on his flip-flops and walks backward to keep ogling at you. “Just give me the word and I’m yours, darlin’.”

He disappears in the bustling crowd after that, fading like rubbed-in sunscreen. You forget about him the second he’s gone.

He’s always been an asshole like that. It’d be a rookie mistake to give more than half a shit about him. But Eddie still feels the boy’s presence like a mean, lean, green monster full of envy. It’s like he’s still there — close enough to punch, even.

He isn’t sure if it’s the heat or if he’s actually seeing red.

“What an asshole,” you murmur under your breath.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Eddie snaps.

“Whoa,” you drawl within a laugh. “Slow your roll, tiger.”

The boy's eyes go wide as he looks over at you again. “I’m not even sure what I just said, honestly.”

“You’re a dork who plays Dungeons and Dragons, remember? You can’t start talking about fighting Billy Hargrove.”

“Yeah. You’re probably right,” he sighs, rigid body finally loosening with the heavy exhale. He squints at you after. “You don’t think I could take him?”

“I don’t thank you have to,” you lilt.

“That’s such a non-answer, babe.”

“I’m just saying,” you giggle with a shrug. “I’m asking you to feel me up, Eds. Not that creep.”

A rosy smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth, smug and full of love.

You meet it with a grin of your own. 

“C’mon, I’m burning to a crisp over here,” you urge, shifting in the chair just to make your thighs jiggle in the way you know Eddie likes.

His eyes glaze over at the sight — one he’s seen a million times now — and you know it’s done the trick.

“Let’s give Hargrove a show, yeah?”

[alvojake]

Six Feet Under | P.SH

「paring」 : ceo!sunghoon x stripper!fem!reader 「word count」 : 3.5k

「synopsis」 : even a busy ceo needs a well-deserved break to release some pent-up frustration and you just so happen to be that escape he finds himself returning to. he was married and you swore you'd never fall in love again, however, what happens when you find yourself wanting more?

「genre」 : smut, angst, forbidden romance

「warning」 : cheating (I do NOT condone cheating irl, this is for the sake of the story!), making out, pet names (baby, princess, kitten, good girl, also slut is used), unprotected sex (big no-no, wrap it before you tap it), fingering, oral (m. receiving), cursing, mirror sex, teasing, mentions of breeding, creampie, choking, hair pulling, begging, hoon spanks the reader like once, public sex(?), lmk if I missed anything!

All you wanted in your life was to live a life of luxury, surrounded by pretty things. So much money that you live the rest of your life in peace with a fancy glass of champagne. A little life without having to deal with someone else, without commitment, without love. 

However, nothing in life came for free and you of course had to work for it. Just like any other normal Friday night here you were in a tiny two-piece that left very little to the imagination and heels that were ungodly tall. Twirling around the pole effortlessly, money pooling on the ground underneath you. The catcalls and provocative remarks weren’t anything new to you if anything they spurred you on more.

Just then you caught sight of a familiar face, sitting at the bar that trailed the length of the stage. His eyes watching you from over the rim of his glass, studying your every move. Sunghoon wasn’t a stranger to you, far from it actually.

Sunghoon was always here Friday nights, maybe Saturday if he could sneak out without raising too many questions. He was a busy man, running a well-known company wasn’t for the weak. This also meant that he pent up frustration from the earlier days of the week he needed to get out so where did he find himself? At the most popular strip club in all of Korea, watching the very dancer that has held him captive since the beginning.

Landing on your feet with a satisfying click of your heels you walked around the pole, your hand still tightly wrapped around the metal. Stopping in front of the black-haired male with a smirk, dropping to your knees you rolled hips forward, your hand in your hair gaining some hollars from the other drunk men around you. 

While many others had their gaze set on you, your gaze was solely on the man in front of you. Sunghoon’s eyes never left your figure as you crawled in his direction, giving him a better view down the skimpy top that hung loosely on your body.

“Hey, kitten give us another show, yeah?” A man that was standing next to Sunghoon reached forward tucking a wad of cash in the band of your bottoms before giving your thigh a small tap.

You leaned down on your forearms, giving him a wide smile and a wink before turning your gaze back to Sunghoon. Watching his chocolate brown eyes darken, his knuckles white as he gripped his glass a little too tight.

The look he was giving you was already enough to have heat pooling in your gut. 

Crawling forward, you reach forward tracing your manicured fingers along his jaw feeling the muscles tense under your touch. This wasn’t completely out of the norm for you so it didn’t raise any suspicion from those around you. However, you got a few jealous remarks as you leaned closer to Sunghoon, your fingers trailing down his neck right over his pulse point. You could feel his rapid heartbeat under your fingertips as your lips brushed his ear. Saying a simple ‘you know where to find me.’ before moving away just as the music faded, ending your performance.

Finding you was exactly what Sunghoon did, finding you sitting in front of your vanity in your dressing room. Your eyes flickered up to meet his dark ones through the mirror as the door clicked shut.

“Took you long enough.” Your words were more teasing than annoyed, however, the taller male didn’t say a word. Looking at you through the mirror with a hard-to-read expression.

Seeing as you weren’t going to get a response you let out a huff before grabbing your hair brush to untangle your silky strands. Your eyes trained on your reflection as you repeated the same cycle of pulling your hair through the thin bristles.

Until movement caught your eye, Sunghoon moved to stand behind you as you sat the hairbrush down. His slim fingers then traced along your jaw much like you had done to him just an hour ago. They were cold against your burning skin, leaving a chill to go down your spine.

Light gleaming off of the metal band that hugged his ring finger reminded you that the man behind you, the man who has fucked you senseless multiple times in this very room wasn’t a single man.

“What about your wife? Won’t she be wondering where her husband is so late?” You smirked at Sunghoon through the mirror.

His hand was quick to grab your face, squishing your cheeks tightly and you let out a surprised yelp.

“How many times do I have to tell you to keep her out of your mouth?” Sunghoon’s breath fanned over your ear, “or do I have to remind you what happened last time?”

Your throat went dry as the memories of him denying you release so many times flashed through your mind. Looking over you met his dark eyes, but no words left your tongue.

“Cat got your tongue princess?” The deep tone of his voice had you squeezing your thighs together, which of course didn’t go unnoticed by the dark-haired male.

His grip on your face loosened as he softly caressed your jaw, his thumb swiping your bottom lip. As if instinct took over you let your mouth fall open allowing him to insert the digit into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. 

You closed your lips, encasing his finger in your warm heat while he watched you with an intense gaze. Sucking softly, tongue swirling, drenching his digit in your saliva, eyes never leaving his.

“On your knees,” Sunghoon demanded, pulling his hand away from your face, and motioning to the ground. You obey, sitting on your knees on the cool faux wood ground, an ache already starting to form in your joints. But that would be a problem for future you to deal with.

Looking up you were met with Sunghoon’s blown-out pupils, the same cold expression on his face. However, there was a tinge of annoyance because of how slow you were going.

Reaching down he ran his fingers through your hair and you relished in the feeling of his nails softly scraping your scalp. Until he grabbed a fist full of your hair, tugging harshly causing a whine to leave your lips. He leaned down, his breath fanning your face, a dark look in his eyes that was enough to tell you that you were in for a long night.

“You know what to do, so-” He tugged on your hair again eliciting a whimper from your lips, “Do. It.”

Letting go of your hair he stood straight on his feet once more, watching as you hastily reached for his belt. Pulling it loose you let his slacks fall, pooling at his ankles and leaving him in his boxers. You ghosted your fingers over his bulge that was pressing against the fabric, “aw how long have you been like this?” You teased, but the dark spot was evidence enough that he had been like this for some time.

Sunghoon’s jaw clenched as you continued to tease him through his underwear. Opening his mouth to tell you to get on with it but he was cut off as a choked groan tore through his throat, your fingers squeezing him through the fabric. The sound alone was enough to have your core throbbing, and your underwear becoming uncomfortably sticky.

Looking up only added to the burning in your stomach, his bottom lip was trapped in his teeth, his eyes hooded watching your every move. You didn’t want to wait any longer to have a taste of him again, it’d be a lie if you said you weren’t addicted to him. Something about fucking around in secret excited you even more, though you did feel kinda bad for his wife.

The sound of your name falling from his lip in such a surly tone was enough to snap you out of your daze. Raising higher on your knees you grabbed the hem of his button-up shirt, pushing it up revealing his toned abdomen. Pressing feather-like kisses over the skin, trailing along the waistband of his underwear. Listening to the hushed curses that would fall from his lips gives you the confidence to press a firm kiss right on his v-line. 

Feeling his muscles contract under your skin spurred you on, leaving a trail of wet, open-mouth kisses along his abdomen. Stopping right under his belly button, nipping at the skin softly, his hand falling softly on your head.

“No marks.” He groaned as you nipped a bit harder at the skin. Oh how badly you wanted to mark his perfect porcelain skin, but you knew better than to disobey. Pulling away you let his shirt fall back down, hooking your fingers in the band of his underwear. Tugging them down, you let the fabric join his pants on the ground.

You take him in one hand, pressing a thumb against his leaking tip resulting in a low groan to tear through his lips. Spitting in your palm you replace your other hand, rubbing up and down his shaft. Your saliva and his precum allow your movements to become fluid. His hand gripped the back of your vanity chair, knuckles turning white. You bring your head closer and lick a stripe up his cock, eyes flickering up watching as his head falls back soft moan-like sighs leaving his lips. Swirling your tongue around his tip, the taste of precum tingled in your mouth causing you to hum softly, making the volume of his moans increase. “Fuck princess, stop- fuck, stop teasing.”

Releasing his vice-like grip on the chair, Sunghoon gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail. Looking down he’s met with your lust-filled gaze, his breath hitching in his throat at the sight. Your face was painted a beautiful shade of red and your pretty pink lips wrapped around his cock. He groans when you take him deeper, his hold on your hair tightening as his hips buck forward into your throat, making you gag at the sudden intrusion.

“Hmm fuck baby,” He hums as he thrusts his hips forward once again shivering at the feeling of your throat contracting around him. You focus your breathing through your nose, allowing him to take charge. His head falls back again, his pace picking up causing tears to prick in the corner of your eyes, your nails digging into the skin of his thighs.

“Why talk about my wife, when- fuck, when you can just suck my cock like the little slut you are.” He growls, picking up his pace once more taking the air right out of your lungs as you hum around him. Your thighs and knees burning in protest from sitting in the same position for so long, but the sight of him getting lost in the feeling of your throat was enough for you to want to endure it.

“Shit…” Sunghoon suddenly pulled out of your mouth, afraid that he’d cum then and there. Tugging on your hair, enough for a whine to fall from your swollen lips. “Get up.” his raspy tone instantly had you swooning as you scrambled back to your feet. He kicked his pants and underwear off his ankles. Latching his lips to yours, he groaned at the taste of himself on your tongue. He pushes you back until your lower back hits the vanity behind you, lips trailing down your neck as he picks you up, setting you on the surface.

Your fingers comb through his hair as he sucks on the hot skin of your neck, his canines scraping across your pulse point have a shiver going down your spine. He could feel your heart rate accelerate under his lips as he colored your skin in shades of reds and purples.

“Hoon, wait- fuck!” You exclaim as he bites down on the junction of your shoulder and neck, the stinging makes your head spin. 

“You’re mine.” He growled against your skin, fingers undoing your robe. You both know that wasn’t true, you would never truly be his, he was married and you’d rather be buried six feet under before committing to a serious relationship. But just for the night, you’d pretend. 

“My little slut to ruin.” His lips latched back on yours in a fervent kiss, teeth clashing, drool seeping from the corner of your lips. Your finger worked in a rush to undo his white button-up, desperate to feel his skin on you. Once the shirt was undone you ran your fingers down his torso, nails scraping his skin softly.

His lips never left your skin as he pushed the robe off of your shoulders, letting it lay on the table behind you, fingers tracing the lace fabric of the underwear set you had changed into. A low groan fell from his lips as he leaned down by your ear, “You’re fucking insatiable.” 

You whine as he squeezed one of your boobs, harshly before letting his fingers trailed down, parting your thighs further. He pulled away to watch as your eyes pleaded with him to touch you. 

“Hoon, please.” You squirm under his touch as his finger brushes over your core.

“Please what princess?” He smirked, enjoying the way your eyebrows scrunched together in desperation, your fingers wrapped loosely around his forearm while the other gripped the table underneath you.

“Touch me please,” A soft moan slipped past your lips as he ghosted over your clothed clit before whining when he took his hand back to your thigh.

“But I am touching you.” Frustration bubbled in your chest as you gazed up at him, the want to smack that smirk off his face was strong, but not as strong as the want of his fingers in you. “You mean like this?” He traced the area right before where you really wanted him, you whined, grip tightening on his arm.

“God dammit Sunghoon, just fuck me with your fingers please!” You exclaim and before you could even blink his other hand wrapped around your throat, limiting your oxygen supply.

“You better watch your fucking tone princess.” His lips ghost over your own as his other hand moves to cup your heat making you let out a choked moan. His fingers press against your clothed cunt feeling you soak your underwear further, “you’re so wet baby, fuck.”

The lack of proper oxygen and his teasing touch was making your head spin. Sunghoon kissed you deeply as he moved your underwear to the side, feeling your warm and slick folds. You whimper against his lips as his thumb finds your clit, circling it sharply.

“Only I can make you this wet, not those other assholes out there, me.” He growled as he inserted his finger into you and you cried out, back arching and nails digging into his skin. Your head was spinning, everything becoming overwhelming. He let go of your neck allowing you to breathe properly before finding purchase on your hip as he worked his finger in and out of you.

“Fuck… Hoon,” Moans fell from your lips as he pushed another finger into your sopping pussy, picking up his pace. Your head falls back in pure bliss allowing Sunghoon to latch his lips to your neck once more.

Sunghoon relished in your scent and the way you wrapped around his fingers so perfectly knowing that he would have to stop soon, his dick painfully hard and he wanted to be in you. Tilting your head back up you cupped his face with your free hand, bringing his attention to your already fucked out expression.

“Hoon-” You were cut off as his fingers brushed over your sweet spot causing a loud moan to tear through your lips. He smirked devilishly as he kissed the corner of your lips.

“What were you saying, baby?” He teased as he abused your sweet spot, pulling you closer and closer to your release. 

“Please, Hoon, I need you, so bad.” You were growing too impatient and quite frankly so was he.

“Need my cock princess?” He teased, watching as you nodded your head furiously, lips caught between your teeth. Pulling his drenched fingers out of your pussy making you whine softly before he wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you to your feet.

Your legs felt like jelly and if Sunghoon hadn’t been holding on to you, you surely would have fallen to your knees. Before you could even process it Sunghoon had you turned around and bent over the surface of the vanity.

“Now be a good girl and watch as I fuck you.” His finger trailed up the back of your thigh before grabbing a handful of your ass. You hummed loving the feeling of his warm skin on you, eyes fluttering shut.

A cry left your lips, eyes snapping open at the sudden sting on your asscheek. “What did I say, princess?” Sunghoon rubbed the red skin with his thumb, eyes meeting yours in the mirror.

Pushing your underwear to the side once more, lining his cock up with your entrance, eyes never leaving yours even as he slid in with a sudden thrust. A loud cry was torn from your lungs, head fell down at the sudden feeling.

Sunghoon grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head up and making you look in the mirror. He didn’t give you a chance to fully adjust before he started thrusting his hips at a fast pace, grip tight on both your hair and hip. The movement had your eyes rolling as broken moans fell from your lips.

“Such a good girl, taking my cock like the slut you are.” Sunghoon chuckles, ramming his hips into yours, driving his cock deeper into your pussy eliciting moans from you.

“H…hoon.” You whine out, reaching behind you, nails digging into the skin of his hip. He hissed before releasing your hip, grabbing your wrist instead. Pulling until your back arched and a pornographic moan left your mouth.

Tears blurred your vision as you tried your hardest to keep looking in the mirror like he told you to, but the pleasure was just becoming too much. Letting your head hang, you whimper as Sunghoon pulls your head right back up.

“Am I fucking you that good that you can’t even listen?” He mocks with a smug smirk, hand leaving your hair to wrap around your neck, pulling your body flush against his as he keeps up with the animalistic pace. A gasp escapes your parted lips at the change, almost doubling over when the head of his cock brushes over your sweet spot.

“‘S too deep-'' Another cry cuts you off as Sunghoon’s fingers find your clit, abusing the small bundle of nerves. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, falling back on his shoulder.

“Fuck- you’re squeezing my dick so tight.” He groaned, feeling his climax creeping up, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer, but he’ll be damned if you don’t cum before him. Picking up the pace of his fingers on your clit had you crying out again.

“Hoon-””Don’t worry princess, I’ll fill your sweet pussy so good, knock you up maybe so everyone knows your mine.” His words didn’t register in your foggy mind, your ears ringing as you felt so close.

With one final thrust of his hips, your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave, soaking his cock that still pounded into your abused hole. He groaned as you tightened around him like a vice, his orgasm right there.

“Too much…” You whined, grabbing his hand that had left your clit, now on your hip. 

“Just a bit more, I’m almost there.” His once deep and husky voice came out almost whiney as he continued to thrust harshly, throwing you into overstimulation. “I’mma fill you to the brim,” He bit down on your shoulder and you clamped down on him, tipping him over the edge. A loud groan leaves his lips as he pumps his hot, thick cum into you, filling you to the brim just as he promised.

His hips slowed to a stop and he released your throat, wrapping his arms around your body encasing you in his warmth. The room was filled with heavy breathing as you both came down from your highs. Sunghoon whispered sweet nothings in your ear as you held onto his forearm.

You wished you could stay like this forever, in his warmth, his scent, his touch, his taste, stuffed by him, but…

Your thoughts were cut off as a shrilling ringing filled the room, reminding you that this was the end. It was probably a good thing because again he was married and you’d rather be caught dead before falling in love again. Yet here you are hoping for just a few more minutes with him.

He really was going to have you six feet under.

@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

[harmoonix]

🎐Spirit of the Wind🎐

(Astrology Observations)

🎐 - Juno/Moon in Air Signs, these natives are looking for communication in their relationships, they are so good at expressing themselves in love & very devoted to their partners

🎐 - Aries Moons/Moon in the 1st house natives are very confident even if they don't always show it they give that energy sometimes in their personality

🎐 - I think Mercurial Moons (Gemini and Virgo moons) may get triggered the most and maybe sometimes Leo Moons too

🎐 - Lilith aspecting Saturn can bring conflicts especially with their dad/older brother/cousins/grandfather's and so on like there is always someone toxic in their family

🎐 - Moon aspecting Juno natives can be the most clingiest people, they will attach to your heart and will never go

🎐 - North Node sextile/trine/conjunct Jupiter can face many opportunities/benefits in their lives/journey/path, (in harsh aspects is like you are blinded from them and you can't see the opportunities you have in front of you)

🎐 - Pluto square/opposite/conjunct north node will mostly experience a rebirth with every thing that happens in their lives, I met so many natives with those aspects who are so experienced in their lives

🎐 - Moon sqaure/opposite/conjunct Saturn can tend to have a nostalgic mood/aura around them, something about them reminds you about the past

🎐 - Venus in Air houses (3rd,7th,11th house) have the best humour in a love/friend relationship, they will know how to comfort you both emotionally and physically

🎐 - Venus in Virgo/Venus in the 6th house will share their nurturing/healing energy with those who need it, these placements are healing and awaken type of natives

🎐 - Neptune/Pluto conjunct the ascendant will feel like they belong in the world, they can feel sometimes outcasted or maybe out of the crowd but that's what makes them unique they're just born different (in a nice way I love them so much)

🎐 - Uranus conjunct the ascendant will make the native very creative, they are the type of people who come off with the best ideas and the best plans for everything

🎐 - Sun opposite Lilith (h12) can attract other people only with their presence, Lilith can feel very strong when aspects the sun but when it's opposite, it will share that energy to themselves

🎐 - Lilith (h12) square/opposite/parallel/conjunct Moon are so seductive at first and is the fact that in contact with others it will just make them more curious about your life

🎐 - Uranus in the 7th house can make the native confused about their relationships and love life, they're like "What tf happens in my life now"

🎐 - South Node in the 9th house natives can feel very detached from religion/religiously detached and honestly you can't blame at all for that. Is the south node energy

🎐- Although im still not sure if Jupiter represents the husband in modern astrology instead of Mars but in vedic chart Jupiter it still represents the husband and i love to read about it 😭✋🏼

🎐 - Think at Vesta Asteroid (4) as a the point where your soul feels at home, feels safe, feels free. For example I have my Vesta in the 2nd house (Venus rules that house, and I tend to believe food brings me soul happiness especially chocolate 🍫✋🏼😭)

🎐 - I honestly love natives with Scorpio/ Sagittarius or Capricorn in big 6 because they honestly don't give a single f about what people say about them, really

🎐 - Someone asked me if the people with moon prominence in the chart feel the Intensity when the moon is changing signs and phases 😭✋🏼 yes they can, I feel like crazy when the moon is at first quarter

🎐 - Okayyy so there is an asteroid opposite to Lilith (h12) called (White Moon Selena h56) honestly is a good asteroid, is like a pure energy in your birth chart but in the same time it shows what things bring you happines, use this chart to identify what can bring your happiness

🎐 - I think I never mentioned before but Sun in the 6th house natives really can shine everywhere they go with their nurturing energy

🎐 - Do people with asc - pluto aspects seem maybe rude/harsh at first😭? Is because they have the Pluto aura around them which can make them seem like a bad guy, but they can be the sweetest people

🎐 - Moon at the 6°, 18° degrees really so observe everything in the room even the small details like wow idk how they can be so focused on everything and analyzing every detail

🎐 - Neptune in the 1st house natives or Neptune aspecting the ascendant may have something unique about their skin like moles or maybe birth marks? maybe freckles too

🎐 - Uranus in the 9th house natives can end up travelling to places they never expected, like those people who wake up in the middle or nowhere or "I never imagined I would travel here" kind of vibe

🎐 If you have Saturn in Cancer or Saturn in the 4th house you kinda have a lot of family karma, and generational karma as well. Is not bad but try to not blame yourself for this

🎐 Pluto in the 7th house is one of the placements I wish I had in my chart because I just love the meaning behind this placement is that the relationships change you very intensely and the same happens with Venus - Pluto aspects, if you have both you are more wise/mature in the future relationships

🎐 Gemini/Sagittarius and Pisces Mercury can indicate a person may talk too fast/bold way of talking/sometimes they can be a bit too harsh in their talking too

🎐 Juno in the 9th/12th house can indicate that you may find your lover in a forgien country or somewhere away from your home maybe while traveling

🎐 Juno in the 6th/Juno in Virgo can indicate a spouse/specific person who loves to take care of their mental health a lot they actually have a very healing energy

🎐 Juno aspecting the ascendant people will see you as someone ideal to marry/or to date (Unless they are like "Would you like to have kids* yeah my Juno rejects these things.

🎐 Juno in the 11th house or in Aquarius can indicate a spouse/specific person who appreciates your *weird* side, and also someone who gives you freedom

🎐 From Tarzan's jungle we did a bigggg jump back in the north America to visit the indigenous American culture because 😍😍😍 their culture is extremely beautiful and unique and here we met Pocahontas which by way was based by the legend of Pocahontas🎐

🌲🌲First let me say they are so beautiful if you think Pocahontas is pretty you need to look for how indigenous north American people look like (Slightly different from the south american ones but still share a close thing together). Their connection with nature and with the earth is very pure 🌲🌲

Have a very beautiful day to all of you who read my notes, Harmoonix ♥️❤️

[infictionalwonderland]

hot physiotherapist | j.potter

SUMMARY, james has a rugby accident and has to take physiotherapy - he’s pretty down about, but all that depressions forgotten as soon as he sees you, his physiotherapist. why had he not done this sooner?

James Potter was miserable.

A very odd occurrence, although it did happen (evidently). He was pouting the whole way as Remus drove them to the physiotherapists, Sirius was giggling to himself in the backseat the whole time—Remus, ever the angel he was, tried to cheer James up by giving him complete control over the music in the car and even greeting him with his coffee order and a chocolate croissant.

James was still miserable.

“Have fun, darling boy!” Sirius chirped out the window as James got out of the car, “try not to break any bones on your way in. God forbid you need physiotherapy.”

He burst out into borderline manic cackles and fell down completely into the row of backseats, never one to wear his seatbelt as he hated being constricted—James glared with upmost venom and hatred at the backseat windows, Tarzan looking cunt.

“I hope everything goes well.” Remus’ voiced gently, shooting his boyfriend a blank stare even as he tried to stop his own amusement. “D’ya want me to fetch you any food or anything for you when you come out?”

“No. Thanks.”

Remus winced.

James was still miserable.

He trotted his way indoors, cursing inside his head at the shooting pains all up his back and his hips, with the largest pout there ever was he made his way over to the reception and told them who he was—why he was here, before behind asked to take a seat in one of the rooms where he would be joined shortly by the physiotherapist.

He sat, frowning at the large room with equipment and soft turquoise coloured walls for a short about of time and then the door opened.

And then his world stopped.

In you stepped. . your hair was tugged into a low ponytail, front strands out of the pony to frame your face. He had died, he was certain. Your skin looked so soft, the beaming white lights giving you the most heavenly glow, he was sure you were an actual angel. Your eyes gleamed beautifully, and he was lost in the exact shade of them—trying to pinpoint every little detail and speck of colour. Your lips were pulled into such a fucking lovely smile, he could’ve melted (he did melt). Even from where you stood in the door, he was greeted in the pleasant aroma of your perfume and he felt like he was floating.

Your mouth was open—oh my god he was missing an opportunity to hear your voice—wait, what had you been saying. Balls.

“Um—h—muhuh?”

Double balls.

Your beautiful smile didn’t even waver in the slightest, though, amusement weaved it’s way into your eyes and created a mesmerising pattern into your irises that he forever engraved into his memory.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Mr Potter! My names Y/N and I’ll be your physiotherapist for the foreseeable future.” You grinned, walking closer to him, “Hopefully.”

Wha—was that flirting? No! You had said it in a normal tone, like Hi I hope I stay your physiotherapist because it is literally my job, James and I enjoy it. But—yeah, no. It was like that. You were so close to him now—so so much more beautiful up close, he didn’t think that was even humanly attainable.

“Yeah—i—I hope so too, ma’am.”

MA’AM?!

Somebody sedate me, he thought.

You didn’t seem thrown off or even slightly offended, or disgusted by him. Which was, good, really, really good.

Instead, you let out this little bubbly burst of laughter and fucking hell, James knew from that point he was gone and could never return. His eyes were probably comically wide and maybe in literal heart shapes but he could truly care less. He look at you in awe—your nose scrunched when you laughed, your eyes squinted and to James you just became even more perfect.

“Please, call me Y/N—Ma’am sounds overly American anyway—“

“Would you prefer Miss?”

I’m never leaving the house again.

You blinked.

He almost stumbled to his knees in apology though that would obviously only give you the impression he was more of a creep than you already thought he was—but—hold on. He watched, mouth falling open just slightly, as your cheeks flushed a very very pretty pink and your mouth formed into the cutest smile he’d ever seen in his entire life.

He was definitely leaving the house again, and it was going to be to come here everyday.

“Just Y/N is fine, thank you for being so considerate though.” You laughed teasingly.

“Can I be upgraded to just James?”

“Oh? You don’t want to he called miss? Or Ma’am?” You grinned at him, white teeth glistening from under your full lips, cheeks turning a faint rosy shade under the strength of your grin and a strand of hair swooping in front of your eye. He was in love. “Or, Sir maybe?”

Jesus Christ of Nazareth.

James is one hundred percent that he would’ve fallen over fast first had he been standing and he’s never been more thankful he’s not. He can feel his cheeks turn red—his face heating up to an embarrassingly tomato red state at an embarrassingly quick rate.

“Nah—Ju—Just James, please.” He huffed out, moving the material of his shirt dramatically off his chest and fanning himself. “Is—um, is it hot in here or is just you? Me! Is it just me?!”

You smile at him, adorably crinkle eyed and slightly pink cheeked, looking every bit the goddess and the angel James already knew with certainty that you were.

James Potter was, as it turns out, no longer miserable.

In fact, he can’t wait for his next appointment.

[ddejavvu]

eddie teaching venom about love languages <33

"Physical touch is," Eddie starts, shoulder bumped up beside yours on the couch, but Venom cuts in, head hovering over Eddie's shoulder.

"That is the one where we fuck her." Venom announces proudly, toothy grin aimed in your direction. You stifle a laugh and Eddie groans, head tosses back against the couch cushions.

"Yeah. Yeah, that's the one where we fuck her," Eddie drawls, exasperated, "But that's also, like, holding hands, kissing, that kind of stuff."

"That one is my favorite." Venom declares, "I do not care about the other ones."

"Yes you do," You counter, and Venom's milky white eyes turn to you again, "'Cause there's gift-giving. That's when I bring you chocolate. And chickens."

"I gave Eddie the gift of a decapitated man once," Venom reminisces, "But he hated it. Does that mean he does not love me?"

"That's not a gift, buddy." Eddie shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the gory memory, "That's- I mean maybe you thought that was a gift, but gifts are supposed to be nice things, like flowers or a teddy bear."

"Teddy bears are useless!" Venom roars, and you know he's only speaking out of deep-seated loathing for your own stuffed animal, which the symbiote is rather jealous of.

"I would much rather receive a head," He huffs, turning back to Eddie, "Does it mean that you do not love me because you do not give me heads to eat?"

"No," Eddie rubs a tired hand over his face, "Let's- let's just move on. Uh, words of affirmation."

"You're so handsome," You croon at Venom, who blinks as you stroke the back of your hand along his goopy cheek, "And you're a great protector, I always feel safe around you."

"See?" Eddie nods, "Just like that. Nice things you say to the person you love."

"You are very small," Venom practices, and while it's true compared to his gargantuan size, it's not much of a compliment, "And I like that you feel safe around me even though I could easily rip your head off. And eat it. You would not stand a chance."

"We'll work on it," Eddie mutters, "Alright, acts of service."

"Like when Eddie gives me a shoulder massage," You hum, stretching out the tense muscles in your neck, "Or when I wash his hair for him in the shower. That's nice things you do for the person you love."

"I am good at that!" Venom boasts, "I make you breakfast sometimes."

"Yeah," Eddie nods, voice strained, and you play along even though you know that the attending to the mess that comes with Venom's cooking is more effort than doing it yourself, "Yeah, buddy, that's good. You're right, that's really nice of you."

"I am very nice," Venom agrees, bobbing his head up and down, "Are there more?"

"Quality time-" You and Eddie speak in unison, laughing sheepishly at each other. It's Eddie that continues, "Like what we're doing now. Sitting together, talking, just hanging out and being with each other."

"When he takes me on dates, too," You chime in, your voice a soft hum, "Or when you take me around the city, big guy."

You tap at Venom's cheek and he nods, blinking once in understanding.

"I like quality time," Venom decides, the thick black ooze connecting his head to Eddie's shoulder sucking him back in until his face is nestled between yours and Eddie's. It's an odd feeling on your hair but you and Eddie hold your positions anyways, intent on drilling non-sexual physical touch into the symbiote.

"Me too," You nod, and Eddie pitches in his confirmation, "Which one is your favorite, V?"

"Mm," The symbiote hums, but it sounds more like the revving engine of a car, "I do not know. I like getting gifts, but I like sitting with you, too. I like them all."

"Too hard to choose," Eddie agrees, "You?"

"More of the same," You conclude, turning your face so that your nose nudges Venom's cheek. He purrs, not unlike a cat, sounding more engine-like than ever, and his large eyes slip shut.

"Naptime," Eddie chimes, reaching over to grab your hand in his. You smile, puckering your lips to send him a kiss that you can't press to his cheek unless you break away from Venom. He pretends to catch it where the symbiote can't see, slapping it onto his cheek and acting injured at the recoil.

"Oh," He groans while you giggle, "You throw a mean kiss."

You settle against Eddie's side, and it's odd having Venom's face in between you to where you can't rest on the man's shoulder, but he's a nice pillow in and of himself. You're only seconds away from fully drifting off to sleep when Venom's jaw moves against your face, and he whispers (terribly), "Eddie. Are you awake?"

"Yes, Venom." Eddie groans, but by the sound of his voice, he wishes he wasn't, "What do you need?"

"I decided on a favorite," Venom informs Eddie, and you listen under the guise of closed eyelids, "I like the sex one best."

You can't help it; you let out a snort.

"Nice going, V," Eddie squeezes your hand, shutting his eyes once more and attempting to get comfortable, "I'm sure that's just the answer she wanted to hear."

[arminreindl]

Croc colours and patterns

Somewhat inspired by a recent post by Joschua Knüppe, I feel like it's a good thing to remind people just how diverse colours and patterns in modern crocodilians are. When I see people make art, it often seems to stick to grey or yellowish-brown tones, which is of course not incorrect. But theres a lot of, imo, underappreciated variety still. It's also worth noting beforehand that patterns are most striking in younger individuals and naturally become more muddy the older and larger an animal becomes. But as you will see, even some decently large and old animals may maintain a striking appearance.

Take this alligator for example. Gators tend to be on the darker side, dark greys to black, sometimes countershaded and sometimes pretty consistent. Some individuals, like this one photographed by Gar Luc, still retain clearly visible stripe patterns from when they are younger.

Or take one of my favourite species, the Cuban Crocodile, which can appear almost bright yellow with a dense pattern of leopard spots. Of course like with the gator you can find individuals that are much more drab, with washed out colours, but individuals with clearly defined patterns still exist.

Then there's gharials of course. They can range quite a bit in colouration. They can be brown, especially younger ones and females and I've seen males range in colour from a drab grey to almost a light blue or even something that could be described as metalic black.

Black Caimans are also pretty interesting in my opinion and pretty easy to tell apart from other species once you pay attention to their colour. They are primarily a deep dark black of course, but what sets them apart from spectacled and other caimans is that very fine pattern of thin white stripes across the flanks that creates this beautiful contrast. They can also have patches of brown like the one on the right.

Orinocos also vary a great deal. Tho I know less about them than I wish I did, I know that individuals can range from drab brownish greys to yellow to somewhat earthy browns that almost range into reds.

The next ones a bit of an outlier. There are specific cave dwelling dwarf crocodile populations in western Africa with striking orange colouration. Tho this one is not exactly natural pigmentation to my knowledge and instead the result of the chemicals present in the water they inhabit, brought there by bat guano. Still very pretty animals.

And then there's Paleosuchus, the dwarf caiman which contains two species. Again highly varied. The first image, which I believe is a Schneider's dwarf caiman, shows a very earthy brown. The others, which unless I'm mistaken are Cuvier's dwarf caimans, show colours ranging from dark with a rusty head, black to this still beautifully patterned individual. Of course these variations are also subject to change with age.

While salties aren't exactly known to be the most vibrant, I'd be remissed if I didn't mention this specific one. It's kept in a zoo in Germany and has this almost bizarre colour combination of creamy white underbelly and chocolate brown top which I've never seen in another saltwater crocodile. Photos by my friends Markus Bühler from the Bestiarium blog and René Dederich

Spectacled, Broad-snouted and Yacare caimans I'll give a quick shout out. I think most people are familiar enough with how they look like and while their colours aren't anything special, I still think one should appreciate their patterns of spots and stripes and facial markings.

The last one I wanna highlight is the false gharial, Tomistoma, another one of my favourites. Part of the reason why being its at times beautiful reddish-brown colours.

[yuwuta]

PEOPLE TOLD ME ABOUT THE FLAMES, I COULDN’T SEE THROUGH THE SMOKE — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

cw some kind of college au/boarding school au? this used to be for rodeo station and now just... exists on its own, friends to lovers, megumi has toji and satoru as father figures so are we surprised that he’s a bully and doesn’t really grow out of that phase… anyway, apologies to muta and miwa, 1.3k words

Nobara makes a poor effort to stifle her laughter as Kokichi stomps up to stand in front of you, hair and clothes drenched in chocolate milk, shoes sloshing with each step, and the bandage on the side of his cheek peeling from the wetness.

When you look up at him, you’re unimpressed, and unsurprised, so you resume annotating your lecture notes as if you weren’t interrupted. If Kokichi wanted to stand in a puddle of dripping milk, then so be it—you should have finished your notes yesterday, and you couldn’t get through your other tasks without catching up first.

“Look, I already said I was sorry. I shouldn’t have kept bothering you for your number when you’d already said no,” Kokichi starts, wiping dripping milk from his chin, “Now, will you please call off your guard dog.”

You don’t reply immediately, focused on finishing the last paragraph of the page, much to Kokichi’s dismay, and Nobara’s amusement. He huffs at your silence, frustrated and humiliated, but there’s nothing for him to say or do until you respond. Maybe that’s something he should have considered when he kept trying to talk to you in class. Still, even now, you’re not ignoring Kokichi to embarrass him or string him along; you just want to finish your godforsaken anthropology homework.

“You seem to be under the impression that I can make Megumi start or stop doing anything,” you sigh, put your highlighter down, and tiredly look up at Kokichi, “But I regret to inform you that you’re wrong.”

Kokichi’s nose scrunches in disbelief, an angered hand coming to wave in front of his face, but his dripping clothes result in splashes to his face—and further laughter from Nobara. He sighs out of frustration, trying to put away his pride, but Nobara’s giggling and your nonchalant attitude are really making it difficult for him to take this in stride.

“Okay, you’re fucking with me—and I deserve it, alright? But, Todo already gave me a fucking lecture, Mai won’t look at me, and Megumi is going to rip and stain every single shirt I own at this point.” 

“That sounds like your problem,” Nobara snickers, rolling her eyes when Kokichi gives her a glare. 

“I'd love to help, Muta, but this is out of my control,” you loll, capping your marker, “Maybe try apologizing to Megumi instead of dripping chocolate milk over notes and shoes.”

“Eh? The hell am I apologizing to him for?” 

“You’re the one who pissed him off—how should I know?” you sigh, sliding your pens and markers into your bag, and closing your folder. 

Nobara pipes in to taunt, “You’d better figure it out soon, though. I hear they’re serving spaghetti tomorrow, and that definitely stains.” 

You swear you hear Kokichi growl, but it only makes Nobara laugh harder. The two of them together is a bad combination—Kokichi is easily aggravated, and Nobara easily aggravates. You’re certain that if Megumi weren’t already on his ass, Nobara would have stepped in to bully him just for the fun of it.

Still, you’d rather not have to testify on either of their behalf, so you bid Kokichi a goodbye, offering him your best advice about cleaning milk stains out of white shirts, and drag Nobara by the arm before she can make another quick quip to finally make him snap. 

She’s still laughing at Kokichi’s expense all the way back to your dorm, “As much as I like seeing Megumi pummel Muta, he’s definitely gonna get written up, at the very least, if he keeps it up. Just tell him you’re not mad about it anymore, and he’ll piss off.” 

You stuff your hands into your pockets, “I don’t control megumi. I didn’t tell him to egg Muta’s car, and pour milk all over him. ” 

“Like hell you don’t,” Nobara scoffs, “Kokichi was right about one thing—Megumi’s a doberman on a leash and you’re his owner.” 

“I didn’t even tell him that Kokichi kept asking for my number. I’m pretty sure Todo told Yuuji, and Yuuji told Megumi.”

“Yeah, that’s almost worse,” Nobara huffs, “He’s just moved to protect you out of undying loyalty—it must be nice to have a knight in shining armor. Does he call you ‘my liege,’ when you’re alone? He might as well bow down and kiss your shoes with the way he worships the ground you walk on.”

You know Nobara is teasing. The rhetoric that you have influence on Megumi isn’t new to you, but it’s always confusing for you to hear. You’ve known Megumi since grade school, and one thing you’re certain of is that he does things of his own conviction, and when he’s decided something, there’s little anybody can do to convince him otherwise. He’s the true definition of steadfast, and sometimes you wonder if his beliefs have inadvertently made him gain masochistic tendencies, because you’ve seen Megumi suffer in pain just to prove a point. 

“Megumi’s his own person, and he’s not easily influenced,” you chuckle, “If anything, he’s more of an attack dog—he bites whenever he sees something he doesn’t like.”

“In any case, he’s your dog,” Nobara shrugs. She pauses for a moment, skipping to catch up to you with a scrunch to her face, “I change my mind though, he’s definitely not scary enough to be a doberman. What are the puffy ones—the really small ones that yap a bunch?” 

“Pomeranians?”

She lights up—“Yeah, that’s way more fitting! Plus, he’s got spiky hair like those little mutts, a really bratty, spoiled one too. Gojo probably kept him in his Birkin as a kid.” 

You giggle as Nobara searches for an image to compare to one of Megumi. She goes as far as to make a collage and send it in your group chat for approval, instantly getting a rave reaction from Yuuji, and predictably, no response from Megumi.

Nobara walks you back halfway to your dorm, leaving you on your own to head to the gym to meet up with Yuuji. When you get back to your room, you’re not surprised to already see Megumi inside, sitting snugly on your worn-in couch with a book in hand. It’s Wednesday, so he only had morning classes, and prefers to spend his afternoon studying in solace, usually taking advantage of your larger, empty room to get his work done. He gives you a small wave, enraptured in his reading, and you know better than to try and disturb him, so you take your place on the opposite side of the couch with the remainder of your notes in hand, finally having the peace and quiet to finish your annotations. 

Megumi finishes his chapter before you’re done, but he waits for you, quietly scrolling on his phone so as not to interrupt you. You don’t face him when you speak, keeping your eyes on your notes, and simply stating, “Kokichi apologized.”

You hear him hum. you know he’s looking at you, but you don’t meet his gaze, and do your best to bite back a smile before he asks, “You forgive him?”

You finish your annotations with a final asterisk at the bottom of your page, so you cap the marker, and finally turn to face Megumi. He doesn’t ask a second time, even as you silently observe him, even if your smile is confusing to him.

“I wasn’t ever really upset,” you explain, “It was annoying, but he wasn’t harassing me or anything.” 

He hums again, but it’s not agreeing. “Tsumiki is gonna get mad if you get suspended.” 

Megumi calls your bluff with his hum this time, and you sigh. Tsumiki won’t get mad, because Megumi would never get suspended, not as long as Gojo is around as headmaster.

Megumi turns his body inward, raising an arm to rest his elbow against the cushion of the couch. He lolls his head to rest against his palm, cheek squished, and almost mischievous glimmer in his eye. In this light, you see Nobara’s argument—with sleep-tousled hair and expectant eyes, Megumi looks an awful lot like a puppy waiting for a command. 

It’s cute, until you realize that Megumi is awaiting your command. Is he?—why would he, he’s never been known to listen, and yet, you’re tempted to see if you truly do have him on some proverbial leash, like everyone else seems to believe.

“Megumi,” you call, softly, “He’s learned his lesson, and I’m fine, alright? Leave him alone.”  

Megumi blinks slowly. His features soften, only for a moment, before he’s turned away from you to pick up his book again. He doesn’t respond verbally, doesn’t touch on the topic for the rest of the evening that you both spend studying in your room, but the following day, you walk past Kokichi and Miwa heading into their chemistry lab, and notice a distinct lack of milk or food residue on his clothing or in his hair, so there isn’t anything more to be said.

Megumi is waiting outside of your lecture hall after your last class of the day, offering you a carton of strawberry milk—unopened, and un-thrown. You accept it, reaching up to ruffle his hair as a thank you, and you’re surprised when you feel him move into your touch. He dips his head down a bit further, gently knocking it against yours before straightening up with a sly smile. He nods his head, wordlessly, and turns towards your dorm, ready to walk you back. 

You follow, dazed, as you stab the straw into your milk. You’re a half-step behind Megumi, head clouded with confusing new daydreams about the boy in front of you, and now you can’t help but to wonder if you’re the one left to follow Megumi’s whim, or if he’s just pulling you by his own leash. 

[seospicybin]

TOO HOT TO HANDLE.

PART I

Lee Know x reader. (s)

Too Hot To Handle Masterlist

Synopsis: You and Lee Know become contestants in a reality dating show, Too Hot To Handle. (10,8k words)

Author's note: Hope you like this one too. Feel free to send feedback! x

Content warning: This is entirely a work of fiction and not affiliated with real Too Hot To Handle show.

YOU: I'm always on the hunt. I'm always looking for the next exciting thing [giggles] I know I may sound conceited saying this but... I usually get what I want [bites lip] Well, I'm beautiful, I'm fun, I have a great body... they can't say no to me [winks] get ready 'cause I'm coming in hot!

-

Having all these eyes on you the moment you walk in is nothing less than your expectations.

You used to get stared at by people, it's something that you've been dealing with after you went through puberty. For one, you don't have either the big boobs or the ass, your body is... average. But people still stare at you like you have all of that on you.

That's when you learn that sex appeal doesn't have anything to do with your appearance.

You can engage in a boring conversation with someone and they'd still find you sexy. Sex appeal is a gift, a very lethal gift.

"Hi, everyone!" You sweetly greet them with an elegant wave of hand.

"Girl, you're really cute!" One of the females says.

You smile even though you prefer to be called anything but cute, coming from her makes it sounds like you're small and not a threat to them.

However, a compliment is a compliment and maybe she meant it in a good way.

"You too," you return the compliment with a quick cheek-to-cheek kiss.

Skipping the females, you go straight to introduce yourself to the male guests, "Hi, hello!"

There are three of them, blonde, brunette, dark-haired, chocolate, vanilla, and caramel. They got everything in here and you can't decide which one you want to taste first.

"Jai!" The dark-haired says. The tattoos covering his left sleeve catch your attention.

You know that accent everywhere, "Australian. I like it," you say with a flirty smile.

You turn to the next one, "And you are?"

"Luca," he answers with a rather different accent.

It's hard to tell but he's tall with a very well-built body, it's safe to say he's an athlete.

"Do you play sports?"

"I'm a professional footballer," he answers.

"Soccer?" You ask for confirmation because football means a different sport in a few countries.

He nods, "Do you like it?"

"Well, I like what I'm seeing," you shamelessly reply.

It amuses him so much that he laughs, "I mean, soccer," he corrects himself.

"Only when you're playing," you answer without a beat.

You move on to the blonde one that has the biggest body out of the three. It's hard to miss those abs even with his oiled body reflecting the sun at you.

"Bryan," he introduces and doesn't hesitate to kiss your cheek.

"You're so big," you say in awe.

"The bigger the better?"

You grab a glass and let him pour you one, "Well, cheers to that!"

-

YOU: Oh... [fans your neck] They're all so hot. Not sure I can survive in this heat.

-

It's better to consider the other female guests as your friends rather than competitors.

They're all attractive and have their own charms, it's not like you're here to compare looks. You're here to have fun in a show called Pleasure Island.

From the name of it, you can imagine all the fun you can have and hopefully, get some action in the process.

The next male guest who enters the villa is a bit shorter than the previous ones, he has long curly hair and a great body.

He comes in your direction and introduces himself to you first before anyone else.

"I'm Jack!" He says with a smile that showcases his perfect white teeth.

"Hi, you have a nice smile!" You say.

"I love your smile," he flirts back with a subtle wink.

He leaves quite an impression on you, he has wild youthful charms.

-

YOU: Jack is cute. He'll make a cute boy toy. If you know what I mean.

-

It comes down to the last guest.

Your eyes are already busy silently checking them out while sipping your fruity cocktail but how can you say no to another body you can ogle on?

This guy sure has a lot of confidence in him. Wide strides, a sly smile, and a face that would make Michelangelo rise from his grave just to immortalize it into a sculpture.

Sadly, he only introduces himself briefly to everyone from the other end of the group of people lining up to face the camera.

"I'm Minho," he shortly announces his name with an enigmatic smile that would make Monalisa run for her money.

There's something about him, something you can't put your finger on. He got the body, and the face, he even got that improved, sexier version of The Kubrick stare.

You quietly watch him as he speaks to a girl with rosy cheeks, ginger hair, and a Scottish accent, you believe her name is Maisie.

Something about him makes you can't look away. A part of it must be because he's pleasing to the eyes and the other part is... You are simply attracted to him.

It feels as if he knows he trapped you in his magnetic field, he catches you looking.

Instead of looking away, you stare deeply into his eyes and sending him signals that you're indeed attracted that you can't stop looking.

Before it turns into an intense staring contest, you slyly smile and raise your glass at him for a toast.

He slightly raises his glass as well and sips it without breaking his eye contact with you.

That means signals received so let's see if he gets them right.

-

YOU: Minho is dangerous but who likes to play safe anyway? Definitely, not me [smirks]

-

"I like Jai. He's hot..." says the beautiful girl with strawberry blond hair, Agnes.

It's obvious that she'll be the main character of this show. She's hot, very likable, and has a perfect smile that would get her teeth-whitening ads.

"What about you?" She asks the tallest girl with legs for days, Zara.

Her dark skin glows under the sun and her curly hair flows down her back, radiating that goddess beauty.

"I like Bryan. I like big boy," she answers.

"And apparently, you like vanilla too, huh?" you playfully add.

Everyone cracks a laugh at your witty response and accidentally takes your turn to answer, "I like Jack, he's cute. I like cute boys."

-

YOU: Jack is the safest choice for now. I have my eyes on Minho too but I want to check the competition first.

-

"Yeah, he is, I think he's the youngest of them all," the one with midnight hair and light brown eyes, Alia.

Maisie nods in agreement, "But I got my eyes on Minho," she says.

The first competition appears and you keep your face straight, playing dumb.

"Oh, good choice!" You calmly respond.

"Did you see his face? He's so beautiful, like a Greek God!" Maisie says with a dramatic sigh.

"And his body, ooh..." Alia adds, overwhelmed by just the thought of Minho.

"Oh, you like him too?" Maisie asks, faking her surprised tone.

"Yeah, I'm going for him, he's so my type," Alia daringly says.

Forget what you said about them as your friends!

Maisie and Alia are your competitors now but you're not going to declare a war just yet. For now, you want to gather as much intel as possible to assess the probability of winning against them.

-

YOU: Minho is quite the ladies' favorite I see.

-

You're the last person to come into the bedroom and everyone seems to have chosen their territory.

There are five beds anyway, you're not afraid of not getting one and you're alright sleeping with anyone.

Maisie can have her victory when you see her getting onto Minho's bed.

You sit on the sofa looking away and when everyone else is busy chatting with each other, you look at Minho's direction laying down with hands tucked under his head.

Once your eyes make contact and lock in a gaze, you keep staring into his eyes with your thumb tugged between your teeth.

When you deem he gets the message as he flashes you his signature half-smirk, you look away and shift your attention to someone else.

"What's good, Jack?" You ask him who's looking lonely on his bed.

"You," he answers.

"I think I'm more than just good," you tell him with a flirtatious laugh.

"There's only one way to prove it," his eyes that keep looking at anywhere but your face tells it all.

-

YOU: Jack is just so... feisty? He's so young, so eager. He's like a rabbit, ready to have sex 24/7. A jackrabbit.

-

The theme for tonight's party is Greek Gods and Goddesses.

The males are wearing togas while the females are wearing white and gold dresses with less fabric and high slits on them. You put on a dress with a plunging neckline and a golden headpiece on the crown of your hair. Not forgetting to put layers of lipstick on because nothing arouses men more than seeing red-painted lips.

The male cheers when all the females are descending the stairs to the beach where the party is held. There's a bonfire, glasses of cocktails ready for everyone to grab, and platters of food arranged so beautifully to snack on.

To get it started, music is blasting through speakers so everyone can warm up with a dance, gyrating and humping against each other and whatnot.

You notice Jai and Agnes already got things going on as you caught them kissing in between changes of songs.

While Jack is hopelessly trying to get something out of you for a while.

At one point, you let him rest his hands on your hips as he stands behind you, dancing and rubbing yourself against him as a little treat for him.

-

YOU: Everyone is looking so hot, so divine... the sexual tension is rising and the night hasn't even started yet.

-

The music abruptly stops playing and everyone is told to sit down while Jack is taking center stage, announcing a game everyone is going to play.

"Nectar is the drink of the Olympian gods but unlike them, we have a new way to drink it!" He begins by sharing a little knowledge of the Greek mythology.

You have zero idea what it's got to do with a game everyone is about to play.

"Everyone is going to stand here and let the other Gods or Goddesses drink the nectar from their bodies," he explains, pointing to a bowl of honey on the table.

A few of them coo in excitement and probably start thinking about what they're going to do with it.

"Nothing is off-limits! It's whatever, wherever, whoever you want to do," he playfully remarks.

Bryan is the first one to take his turn and he stands there with his big body, looking like a true Greek God in his toga and crown.

You see that Zara wastes no time to take her chance, taking a spoonful of honey and letting it dribble down his abs. She drops to her knees to lick the honey clean on his glorious abs.

"Whoo!" You howl and applaud her because she sets the standards so high already.

She doesn't miss the chance to kiss him after, getting his big boy just like she planned. Now that's hot!

It gets crazier with each turn and you want to have fun as well, ultimately, you want to show everyone how to get it done.

It's Agnes's turn. You don't usually have a thing for blonde but she's pretty and she'll make a great conquest.

Before Jai can have his chance, you dash toward her and brush her lips with honey right with your finger. She has soft lips and you're so eager to taste it.

You lean in and passionately kiss her, showing off your skill in kissing and giving everyone a little show. Just as expected, kissing her only convinces you that girls are better kissers.

"Oh, damn!" You faintly hear one of the males exclaim.

Agnes gasps as she lets go of the kiss and suddenly, Jai takes over from you, afraid that you'll take her from him.

-

YOU: It's a party. I want to have a lot of fun and kiss everyone.

-

You return to your seat with a triumphant smile on your face, on the way, you shot a glance at Minho to dare him.

However, both Maisie and Alia didn't get any from him. You start to wonder if he's going to kiss someone at all or not. When it's Minho's turn though, Maisie is excitedly put honey on his neck and licks it off for him, finishing it with a kiss on his lips.

Alia takes her turn after, kissing him right on the lips and well, you must admit that he's a good kisser. He's lacking in hand placement.

Sure, you would love to get up there and show him what a good kisser you are.

-

YOU: It's still day one. There'll be lots of opportunities to kiss him and if not, I'll make the opportunity myself.

-

When it comes to your turn, you expect nothing from Jack but he's waiting for it, rubbing his hands together, impatient to execute his plan on you.

"Come, get your honey," you playfully say.

Jack picks up the whole bowl of honey and pours it down your cleavage. You're gasping the second the sticky liquid lands on your skin and trickles down the valley between your breasts.

Putting the bowl down, Jack dives right in and buries his face between your breasts, he's smearing the honey all over instead of licking it off of you.

You admire his creativity for this even though you know it's coming from the pit of his lewd, juvenile brain.

"Oh, yeah!" He lets a celebratory roar but it soon dies down as someone else comes toward you in his confident, wide strides.

Your stomach is fluttering as Minho stands right in front of you, looking like Adonis with his sharp nose and chiseled jaws, got you holding your breath and wondering what he's about to do to you.

Minho is unpredictable which is exactly what you're looking for in a man.

You see he dips his two fingers into the honey and brings them close to your lips, smearing it all over. Your lungs are shrinking the longer you hold your breath yet you can't seem to breathe when he's leaning so close and about to...

Minho doesn't kiss you. Instead of that, he licks your lips and you can feel his hot tongue on your lips. One lick is all it takes to make your heart skip a beat.

When you think he's done, Minho tugs your lower lip between his teeth and gently bites it, pulling at it before letting it go.

As he takes a step back, Minho shoves his fingers to his mouth, a half smirk that signified he just evened the score with you.

-

YOU: Minho got the signals after all [slyly smiles]

-

When the host of the show enters you finally snap yourself out of it.

"Wild night, huh?" He asks everyone.

"Yeah!" Bryan answers the loudest.

"It gets wilder because I have a surprise for you guys!" The host announces.

That gets everyone excited, guessing what kind of surprise they'll bring on the first night of the show. They expect so much because everything has been great already. More girls? More boys? A celebrity guest? A DJ?

"Are you guys ready?"

Everyone is hyped, shooting up from their seats and jumping in excitement like kids on Christmas morning.

"Bring it in!"

The attention shifts to the two staff carrying a big wooden box and placing it in the center. The anticipation is rising and everyone can't wait to see what's inside.

"Five! Four! Three! Two..."

Everyone counting down the second and when it finally gets to one, the side of the box opens, revealing a cone-shaped thing inside, lighting up in purple colors.

Then you hear the infamous ding sound that you know for sure it's coming from Lana, the ultimate cockblocker.

Your excitement fizzles out in a second and drop your head on your hands, "Oh, fuck!"

Maisie squeals while Agnes shrieks in horror and the rest are wondering what is that thing, oblivious to the fact that they're about to be forced into celibacy.

"Is that an air freshener?" Jai asks in pure confusion.

"That's Lana!" You say.

"What?" He cringes and is still confused.

"She's going to cockblock us!" You concisely tell him what's about to happen to all of you.

"We're on Too Hot To Handle!" Zara breaks the news for everyone and makes it real for you that you're trapped in this show.

"Hello, I'm Lana, your personal digital assistant!" The cone starts speaking.

"Welcome to the retreat!"

-

YOU: What. The actual. Fuck?

-

"The purpose of this retreat is to help you gain deeper and more emotional connections."

Alia whines and then sighs, "I signed up for dicks," she lowly mutters.

You lowly laugh at her words, not realizing that you're also laughing at your pain.

"For the last 12 hours, I have been watching you and learning about your behavior. You have been selected as all of you are having meaningless flings over genuine relationships."

The more Lana speaks the more you feel like fainting. Can't believe that she threw a party, and got everyone all hot and bothered, delivering shocking news in the middle of it to let everyone know that they can't have a release at the end of it.

"As part of your social development, I have allocated a prize of $200,000."

-

YOU: That much money makes me horny, to be honest.

-

"How about I give you $200,000 for you to go away, Lana?" Luca jokingly offers but it falls short since Lana has no ears.

Even if she had one, she wouldn't listen to him anyway, Lana is her own boss.

"However, I will deduct money from the prize fund if there are breaches of the rules."

Looking at them and how wild the things they've done this night alone, you can tell that there'll be not much money left at the end.

"For those of you who need reminding, there is to be no kissing...."

"Fuck!" Zara bluntly curses.

"No heavy petting, no sex..."

"Oh, my God!" Agnes panicking, looking like she's about to hyperventilating.

"And no self-gratification."

Jack's eyebrow raises in question, "What's that mean?"

"No masturbating," you tell him with a sad smile.

He looks devastated as if you've just told him a relative has died, "for real?"

You stifle a nod.

"Welcome to your long, hard, sexless summer," Lana finishes.

-

YOU: Boys make me horny. Money makes me horny. I'm fucked.

-

Everyone in the dressing room is groaning and complaining about the turn of Pleasure Island into No Pleasure Island with Lana ending the party for everyone.

You don't want to be dragged down into the misery pit and decide to finish your night routine quickly, wanting to end the day already.

Minho's bed is right next to the door and he's laying there as if he's been waiting for you.

"You'll sleep on this bed," he says, stopping you from walking.

You tip your head to the side, then let out a low chuckle, "How are you so sure?"

He leans back on his pillow and puts his hands under his head, "because I'm sleeping here," he answers.

Minho is so cocky, so pretty, a menacing force in this retreat and you're intrigued to see what it feels like to sleep with the devil's advocate.

You crawl onto the bed and lay next to him, not showing any signs that you'll fall into his temptations, at least, not tonight.

-

YOU: Well, as expected, the best girl won!

-

The next thing you anticipate is how Maisie or Alia is going to react to seeing you in one bed with Minho.

Minho has his hand resting on your stomach like he's trying to hold you down, not letting you go anywhere even though you're under the cover with him, chatting with Agnes who's occupying the next bed with Jai.

Maisie is the first one to see that her number one guy is on the bed with someone else, she glances away and is left with no choice but to sleep with Jack tonight.

You don't have to look to know that she's throwing daggers at you with her eyes from across the room.

And Alia looks calm about it, she's going to sleep with Luca anyway. Perhaps, she's switching onto his lane tonight.

"No one breaks the rules tonight!" Bryan remarks.

There's always that one guy who's going to protect the money but it's a surprise that it's going to be Bryan.

"Be good!" He warns once again as he looks around the room.

Something about being reminded not to do something though only encourages all of these horn dogs to do it.

You turn your head to see Minho and can't tell what he'd likely do. With most men, you can easily tell everything about them but Minho... he is uncharted territory but it's a good thing that you're eager to explore.

-

YOU: Minho is so perfect and I feel the need to violate it.

-

You're usually jealous to see anyone prettier than you but not with Minho.

Instead of being jealous, you want to admire him, and worship him like a divine being he is. You hesitate to touch him because it doesn't feel real to exist in the same space and time with him.

It's getting dangerous now that the lights are out and anything can happen in the dark.

He turns to lie on his side and face you, with the dim light coming from the sleep lamps you can see his eyes are open and looking at you.

You reach for his hair and put the strand away from curtaining his forehead, "Are you going to be good tonight?" You keep your voice low as everyone else is going to sleep.

His hand finds your waist under the cover and then he answers, "I don't know."

He then slides his hand to the arch of your back and using all of his strength, he pulls you close until your body is against him.

Brushing your hair to the side, he then brings his mouth close to your ear and whispers, "We'll see."

His vague answers only make you feel uneasy but your chest is overflowing with excitement that you can't sleep, even when you're sleeping, you feel alerted with every movement of his body against you.

In the middle of the night, he disrupts your sleep with a gentle kiss on your neck. He then slides down the strap of your tank top so he can place kisses along your collarbone.

The quiet in the room is filled with the rustles coming from this bed as Minho hovers above you, he takes both of your hands and pins them above your head.

You believe he specifically chooses this time to see if you can keep it quiet as he places kisses down your neck and chest. Each kiss leaves a searing mark on your skin with a few low moans slipping past your mouth.

You don't even try to break away from the hand pinning your hands by the wrists but can't stay still as he's teasing you more by kissing you all over your face, except your lips.

He teased you earlier by only licking your lips and by doing this, he wants to see how far can you go and see if he can make you push the limit.

Minho is a fucking sadist but what can you do when you get pleasure in pain?

He lands his lips so close to your lips that you reflexively open your mouth, ready to return his kiss but he retracts himself, you can see how pathetic you are from the way he's looking down at you.

"Are you going to be good tonight?" He asks you back, then loosening the hold around your hands.

Minho is turning the table back, leaving the decision whether to rule break or not to you.

In that case, he was wrong to think you'd be afraid to be the first to rule break.

-

YOU: Well, I mean... [bites lips] I've never been a good girl anyway.

-

That half-smirk of his is mocking you but he looks so damn attractive whenever he does that.

You hate losing but for this one time, you're going to like it.

"You fucking tease," you mutter to him, putting your hand on the nape of his neck and bringing his head close.

The bad wins tonight and you can feel the burn as both of your lips touch and clash in a blazing kiss that sets your body on fire.

You wrap your legs around his waist and draw him closer, leaving not even an inch between your bodies, your breasts squashed between your chests.

You kiss him hard and deep, making the most of it knowing that it will cost you money. Your hands are tugging at his soft locks.

His tongue skillfully parts your lips open and invades your mouth, deepening the kiss to get as much taste as he can. He is one phenomenal kisser and even if you had to die of asphyxiation, you don't want to stop.

However, you still want to live to play this game with him and he seems to have the same plan by the way he slowly pulling away. You both gasp for air the second you let go of the kiss.

You land soft pecks on his cheek and neck, turning his head to the side, You whisper "I let you win tonight," then playfully bite his ear.

-

YOU: And just like that, we're the first to break the rules in the retreat.

-

"Good morning!" Agnes cheerfully greets everyone the second the lights are on.

"Morning!" You mumble your reply, still feeling sleepy with how little you slept last night.

Bryan pinches the bridge of his nose and scans everyone to spot any guilty faces, he looks even bigger topless next to Zara who owns a model body.

"I really thought I was dreaming that I'm in Too Hot To Handle," Agnes innocently shares.

You softly laugh at that and indirectly, at the satire of your own life. You turn to look at Minho, looking so beautiful even when he's just woken up from sleep.

"How about you?" You put your leg over him under the cover, rubbing his shin with your toes.

"Did you dream a sweet dream?"

Minho slouches down on his pillow, looking like he's about to go back to sleep, "It was sweet but it wasn't a dream."

He casually says that like it wouldn't bring back the recollection of how the two of you kissed last night and you're not going to lie, it gets you wet just thinking about it.

-

YOU: Waking up next to him, the first thought that comes to mind is our kiss last night. Gosh... it was so fucking hot.

-

"Didn't you say you like Jack?" Zara asks the second both of you are out of everyone's earshot.

"But I didn't say I only like him," you playfully respond.

She giggles in amusement, "You're a trouble. I like it," she says.

Working out with her at the beach, earning you some tips and exercises you can to get her perfect body figure.

"You got some real competitions though," she says while doing a minute-long plank.

You're running out of breath but manage to answer her, "So?"

Zara chuckles again, "You're not afraid you're juggling two men and going against two girls at once?"

When she puts it like that it sounds like you're creating a problem for yourself. In this retreat, you can't just do whatever you want without getting the consequences considering that you're locked in with them for the next few weeks.

"Well... I like Minho more," you tell her and drop to the mat as one minute has passed.

"Yeah?" She asks for further details.

"But he makes me second guessing everything," you concisely explain.

You turn over and cover your eyes to shield them from the morning sun, "with Jack, it's easier. I don't have to think around him."

Zara turns to start doing side plank, "You're not looking for a good pet here!" She playfully scolds you.

You laugh and follow her lead to do the same, "Unless Minho likes someone else then he's my number one right now."

Zara gently slaps your butt, almost sending you toppled to the front, "that's a good girl!"

-

YOU: It's only day two and the options are still open but I know what I want. I want Minho.

-

It's convenient that the dressing room is empty at this time with most of everyone already dressed and dolled up for the day.

"Did anything happen with big boy Bryan last night?" You slyly ask while she's putting her fake lashes on.

She lets out a long sigh in response and slaps her spatula on the table, "What do you expect from an accountant?"

It all makes sense now. Bryan is an accountant, he thinks about the money more than treating his girlfriend with a smooch.

You burst into laughter and stop applying mascara, "hate to say it to you but you chose the wrong guy to be in the show with."

She glares at you from her table then looks back in the mirror, "he chose to play the good cop so that leaves me no choice but to play the bad cop."

"Ooo..." you coo, impressed with her determination to make Bryan break the rule with her.

"If you need a smooch, just know that I will give it to you in a heartbeat," you tell her with a sly smile.

Luca walks in on you applying sunblock on each other's body and he refrains from getting to his locker.

"What did I walk into?" He confoundedly asks.

As Zara bends down against the table, you lather sunblock on her ample butt then slap at it, entertaining the sole spectator in the room.

Luca is too stunned to speak that he's just standing there with his locker door open, "Damn. Do that again!"

The sight that welcomes you as you walk out of the house is of Minho in the pool with the Maisie and you owe it to her to give her a chance, making it a play fair.

You turn the other way and decide to sunbathe on the lounger with Alia, chatting about some good skincare products since she's done some beauty ads.

After a while, you see Agnes and Jai walking back from the beach. From the way Jai is grinning from ear to ear, you can tell that they did something that cost some money.

"Hey, girls," she innocently greets you both and sits on the farthest lounger.

"Hey," you reply then exchange a look with Alia.

She seems to also get the same impression and straightforwardly asks Agnes about it, "Did you just spend some money?"

Knowing that she has a bad poker face, Agnes licks her lips and stifles a nod.

"Oh, no..." Alia sighs and picks up her water tumbler from the floor to take a sip.

You see Jai is joining Luca and Jack in the pool, it's only about time that everyone knows someone has broken a rule and the others will soon take their turn.

-

YOU: They just didn't know that they're not the first to break the rules, eh? [bites thumb]

-

Zara packed a lot of outfits with her and you get to borrow one.

"I'm going to look so hot Bryan can't say no to me," she remarks.

You must admire her confidence and it's indeed looking good on her, you should have some on you as well if you want to win this competition.

The night is cool with a warm breeze blowing from the sea, carrying the salty air ashore. It's so easy to locate Minho since he's the only one that always catches your eye.

He's wearing a white shirt with the three top buttons open, exposing his chest muscles, and sitting with his legs spreading open.

You feel like dropping to your knees between those muscular legs and... you push the thought away. You focus on the mission you have to do.

One of the things you like about Minho is that he doesn't waste time, he's straightforward and that's what you're about to do, going straight to business.

"Calling for me?" You poke fun even though he doesn't say anything but sipping his drink by himself.

The sofa can fit three people but Minho's thick thighs are looking so comfortable you can't help yourself to sit on them.

"Do I look good?" You take his hand and put it on your waist.

"Not bad," he answers.

He reclines on the sofa, head tilting upward looking at you and that way, you can admire his beautiful face from the top, inexplicably never getting tired of it.

There's no need for words when you can see everything in his eyes, the way he's intensely staring into your eyes with his thumb lazily rubbing the arch of your back.

The tension is there and it's electrifying, you feel alive when you're with him.

"I like your eyes..." you say as you put your hand on his jaw and your eyes drop to his lips.

Minho softly laughs because he knows you're looking nowhere near his eyes when you say it. He puts a finger under the thin strap of your dress and twirls it around his finger.

"I like yours too," he says back as he's undressing you with his eyes.

-

YOU: God! I want him and I'm going to get him.

-

Putting your hands around his neck, you draw him close and put a few inches of safe space between your faces.

Pfft, it's not like it's going to stop you from breaking the rules.

"Are you going to be good tonight?" You ask.

"I haven't decided yet," he shortly answers.

You lean into whisper into his ear, "If you're good then I'll give you something as good later."

Now Minho knows what you mean by being good. That he won't let anyone turn his head or get tempted to break the rules with someone else.

Knowing his nature, you doubt that it will not stop him but it's worth trying. He got a taste of it last night and there's a big possibility that he wants more of it.

You softly kiss his cheek and take his glass of drink from his hand, not hesitating to take a sip.

Let's see how the night goes.

-

YOU: I think it's going to be a good night.

-

Too much confidence isn't good either.

You feel a little bitter when you see Minho openly flirting with Alia just a few feet away from you. A moment after that, he talks to Maisie.

You scoff because he decides to turn it into his game and you know what?

You feel like making him sweat a little, especially with Jack sitting across from you and checking you out long enough that you can't ignore it anymore.

You lay on your side and decide to tease him a little, "Nice shirt!"

His mouth curls into a sly smile, "Nice body!" He shamelessly compliments you back.

Agnes comes into the scene and sits on the sofa, letting you rest your head on her lap.

"How about me?" She asks.

His smile grows wider, "You two are on the top of my list!"

"Really?" Agnes asks in curiosity as she drags the letter R.

He points at you and says, "I'm obsessed with you but I think you know that."

"Whoa!" You respond in awe, surprised by how daring and blunt he is.

-

YOU: I'm not going to lie but I like the attention Jack is giving me right now.

-

You make a space between you and Agnes, patting it as you tell him, "Come sit here!"

Agnes folds her legs on the sofa and also tells him to come, "We're not going to bite unless you want us to," she says.

Jack, like the puppy he is, hops onto the sofa and sits between you and Agnes.

You lean in close to his side and put one leg over his thigh, slipping your hand into his brown, curly hair.

"Not sure about some bites but Jack wants some kisses," he confidently demands like the two of you would easily give it to him.

Agnes looks at you and you look back at her, in a few seconds of eye contact you know that she wants to do it, she shares the same chaotic energy with you.

"Jack wants some kisses, huh?" You childishly talk to him.

Jack turns his head to look at you and puckers his lips.

"Only if you say please!" You tell him.

"Please..." he pleads by adorably dragging the word.

You grab his chin and lean in to kiss him which he eagerly returns with so much passion, trying to show you what he got.

Not wanting to give him too much, you pull away from the kiss and say, "Agnes is a better kisser," you jokingly say to bruise his little ego.

"Yeah?" He says with an eyebrow raised.

"Why don't you try yourself?" You dare him.

Jack turns to the other side and Agnes doesn't give him one second to prepare himself, showing him how to get it done. You take your drink and sip it while watching them kiss in front of you.

-

YOU: I kissed Jack not because I have a feeling for him. We're just having fun [shrugs]

-

It was an eventful night.

Even though you have no idea what Minho did the rest of the night, you don't want to think too much about it, especially after what you've done behind him.

Thankfully, Lana hasn't announced any rule breaks yet and you can sleep in peace for tonight.

You walk to the bedroom in heavy steps and hate that you're feeling scared that Minho suddenly decides to sleep with someone else after being busy flirting with everyone the whole night.

You never know with him and this time, there's no excitement, it's just anxiety. You push the door with your shoulder and find the bed is still empty, you reckon he's still washing up.

Jack flashes you a smile as you get under the cover and it's only making you more anxious. You get startled when the bed shifts as Minho climbs from the other side.

Since he's not that cuddly of a person, you take his arm out so you can rest your head on it and snuggle close to his side, letting out a quiet sigh of relief.

"How was your night, my beautiful man?" You ask, your hand gently rubbing down his clothed chest.

"Good," he replies, twirling his finger around the thin strap of your black tank top.

"I can make it better," you whisper, lowering your hand down until your fingers meet the waistband of his boxer.

He looks at you and one corner of his mouth raises into his signature half-smirk, "No one is stopping you."

Bryan catches the two of you being suspicious and points it out at everyone, "Hands where I can see them!" He orders.

Instead of complying, Minho shoves your other hand under the cover and keeps them there.

"Minho, man, come on!" Bryan hopelessly scolds him.

It's in the dark that Minho once again starts his exploration.

He pulls you by the waist until there's not an inch of gap left between your bodies, you perfectly mold into his body as he spoons you from behind.

As he presses his lips on the nape of your neck, his hand traces the side of your body, stopping on the back of your thigh to squeeze the soft flesh there.

"I've been good tonight," he whispers to you.

You softly chuckle, not expecting that he'll be asking for what you promised him.

Without turning, you softly slip your hand in his hair, "Really?"

He places a long peck on your jaw, "mmh."

You turn to lay on your stomach and prop a hand under your head, leisurely looking at his beautiful face in the dark.

The plan was you're going to tease him just like he did with you the other night but after what you did and the assurance you got from that misbehavior. You want to show him that you don't want to play a game tonight, or ever again.

Tenderly, you caress his face and hold his jaw as you lean in, kissing him so slowly yet passionately. Minho seems to sense that there's something different about the kiss.

He brushes your hair to the side and holds it there as he returns the kiss to you, his other hand is slipped under your tanktop, splayed on your back with his thumb faintly rubbing the skin.

If only breathing wasn't necessary, you would keep kissing him.

You pull away and press your head close to the side of his head, placing little kisses on his jaw.

"That's money well spent," you comment.

He turns his head to face you and it only entices you to kiss him again but immediately refrain out of the fear of being head-locked by Bryan's giant arms tomorrow.

You sweetly kiss his cheek and lowly mutter, "Goodnight!"

Minho glides his hand up to your neck and looks at you, "Goodnight!"

-

YOU: Honestly, I wasn't thinking of Minho when I kissed Jack but after it happened, it only got to me then that I really like him.

-

When you wake up, anxiety dawns on you.

You feel sick in the stomach when Lana chimes in and lights up in the corner of the room.

"Good morning, everyone!"

You silently plead that Lana would not drop the news this soon. Not when you just woke up from a nice, long sleep with Minho cuddling you all night.

"Morning," you meekly answer with a yawn at the end and accidentally meet Agnes's eyes on the next bed, exchanging a knowing, uneasy glance.

"Today's weather will be sunny with highs of 82⁰ Fahrenheit and there will be zero chance of sex."

Jai breaks into laughter and puts his arm around Agnes's shoulder, "She's fucking quality, she is."

The day barely started, you can already tell it's not going to be a good one. You're counting down the minutes or even seconds until Lana tells everyone all of your sins.

-

YOU: I'm a bit on edge. Not a bit actually. I'm on THE edge.

-

Even after a session of yoga with Alia, doesn't help you relax at all.

You've done this plenty of times before, going from one casual partner to another in the blink of an eye and never feeling the slightest bit guilty about it. You don't know what changed when you're playing the same game and the only difference is that you're doing it with Minho.

It's after you showered and are immersed in the girl's talk while doing your make-up you finally can have a little peace.

"Have you cracked big boy Bryan yet?" You ask Zara.

Zara carefully swipes the brush on her cheekbones to apply some highlighter, "Girl, as if!"

"That big body comes with a tough personality too," Agnes comments, squinting her eyes to draw a neat line of black eyeliner.

"When we cuddle in bed, he locked me with his arms to make sure I didn't do anything," Zara rants, borrowing your pencil liner without asking.

"You should be grateful that he didn't headlock you to sleep," Alia chimes in as she braids her hair in front of the mirror.

You and Agnes are breaking into laughter at the same time.

That's when Lana decides that it's time for judgment. The cone chimes, startling everyone in the dressing room.

"Hello, girls!" She says.

Zara fans her eyes as she just puts on her fake lashes, "What's up, Lana?"

"Please gather everyone to the cabana!" She orders.

You exchange a knowing and uneasy glance with Agnes as your heart is beating out of your chest. Every step you take to get to the cabana is getting heavier the closer you get there.

There's a space next to Minho on the sofa but sitting next to him will only make you more anxious. You sit in the middle between Luca and Maisie, it's safer to be out of Minho's sight.

"I wonder who kissed who?" Luca asks with a haunting tone.

-

YOU: Counting my own mistakes, I know for sure that I broke the rules three times [shakes head in disappointment]

-

Your concern is not the money.

You believe someone else broke a rule or two as well. For example, everyone knew about Jai and Agnes's kiss at the beach.

Also, you're not afraid to admit the ones you committed together with Minho, it's the other ones that you're not proud of.

The sickening sound of Lana coming online makes your heart drop to your stomach.

"Hello, everyone!"

You can't find it in you to reply to her and awkwardly smile in response while everyone else is weakly returning her greeting.

"You were brought here to form deeper emotional connections and were given rules to adhere to. Those rules forbid sexual contact."

Even though Lana is a high-tech virtual assistant, you can hear in her voice that she's not pleased with everyone.

"Despite this, yesterday, your flagrant disregard for the rules has resulted in a deduction of $21,000."

There is a mix of shrieks, gasps, and curses happening all at once. Well, at least, now you know you're not the only one spending the money.

"You guys are blowing it," Alia says in disappointment.

"In total, there were seven rule breaks," Lana shares further details.

-

YOU: I contributed three out of those seven rule breaks but who did the other four? [squints eyes]

-

"Time to fess up!" Bryan calls the shot.

Everyone is looking at each other and trying to see any guilty faces. After a while, Minho points at you and calmly says, "I kissed her twice."

Now, that's a man. Minho doesn't falter as he owns up to his misdeeds and even says that it was he who kissed you when in fact, you were the first one to cave in to the temptations.

Maybe it's because of how fast Minho comes clean about it or it could be because of how overwhelming for him to know that two rules have been broken, Bryan only sighs and then moves on to find where the rest of the money went, "how about the other five?"

You gulp air again and pass the turn to someone else. Jai has the worst poker face he can't keep himself from grinning, "We did too," he says while half laughing, "You guys knew we did it on the beach once and did it again last night."

Agnes is looking down on her lap as Jai admits everything and adds an apology at the end, "I'm sorry, you guys!"

Bryan closes his eyes and his eyelids flutter, "Okay then, anyone else?"

Luca who's sitting next to you suddenly raises his hand, "I kissed Maisie last night," he confesses.

That is not what you expect and you're aware that you're getting in between them by sitting there. You didn't know Maisie had given up on Minho already.

"Just once!" He quickly adds.

Maisie even backs him up right after, "We shared a moment and we wanted to see if there's chemistry."

That shocks everyone but Bryan seems to give him a pass for only breaking one rule. Not sure what he'll do when he finds out about the last two rule breaks.

Agnes has been avoiding everyone's eyes and you don't expect much from Jack, he's staying quiet because no one suspects anything because he's harmless and the youngest.

-

YOU: But I have to be honest, right?

-

"I kissed Jack," you blurt out.

There's a long pause then Zara snaps her head in your direction, "What?"

Luca laughs next to you, "Look at him, sitting there all quiet," he says and keeps laughing afterward

A grin blooms on Jack's face, maybe it's the grand scene that he's been pictured in his head that he's not what everyone thought he was.

"Well, it's obviously because I like her," he shortly explains.

He rubs his chin and continues speaking, "And I don't regret that one if I'm being honest."

You've been avoiding looking at Minho's direction but you get the urge to see his reaction, not sure what you're expecting but he looks strangely calm about this.

When he's about to look your way, you hurriedly look away though.

You turn to look at the other culprit who's smiling like an angel next to her guy and you can't go down on your own.

"Agnes!" You call and wait until she looks at you to say, "You kissed Jack too!'

"WHAT?" Zara gasps and then covers her mouth, her eyes widen in surprise.

"Why did you do that?" Bryan asks since she's sitting close to her.

Jai who's sitting next to her looks not pleased at all, leaning back with his hands balled into fists on his sides. You would love to see Minho get a little upset too but when you glance his way, he looks not bothered at all.

Now that the offenders have admitted their crimes, Lana can announce the damages done to the prize money.

"I must also inform you that with these multiple rule breaks that happened in the last 24 hours, I have been left with no choice but to double the fine as of this moment."

Bryan's face drops onto his big hands and brushes his head to the back, making his combed hair disheveled in a second.

"Which means $42,000 has been deducted from the prize fund."

There are moans and groans of complaints but there's nothing anyone can do except try to keep their hands to themselves from now on.

"No more spending!" Bryan remarks, crossing his muscular hands together to form the letter X.

Everyone else is nodding in agreement but with almost a quarter of the prize money lost in one day, you're not the only one feeling pessimistic that there would be money left at the end of the retreat.

-

YOU: That means I spent $18,000 in one night? Whoops.

-

What makes them think that doing bondage in a workshop would help to take your mind off sex?

You're not sure if that's what the workshop is going to be but you see the waxed ropes and that's the first thing you have in mind.

"Today, we're going to learn Shibari," the guest sex expert announces.

"An ancient Japanese technique used to improve intimacy and trust in relationships," she shares with everyone.

Minho and you have no problem with intimacy but with what you've done recently, it seems that Minho is likely to have a trust issue with you.

"It's a bit more risque but it really does teach people how to trust which is the foundation for any long-lasting relationship," the expert further explains.

"Have you guys ever played with bondage, handcuffs, or any type of restraints?" The expert asks.

A few raise their hands in pride and you see Minho as the experimental type, always open to everything. You don't see him raising his hand, he's too busy shielding his face from the sun.

You take the first turn and can't decide which one you want to do, you haven't done this. Picking up the smaller rope in red color, you decide to do the simplest one called the Hand Prayer tie.

Minho doesn't need to be told, he puts both hands together in front of him and lets you tie rope around it.

"It goes around the middle fingers," he instructed.

As expected, Minho knows how to do this. It's a piece of information that both excites and scares you but in the best way.

After a lot of errors, you are finally done and not impressed with how you didn't tie the rope tight enough that Minho has no problem taking it off without your help.

-

YOU: Oh, yep, just exactly what Minho needs right now: tie me up.

-

"Are you ready?" Minho asks as he takes the bigger rope in the color black.

Now that he's about to tie you, you suddenly get a little nervous too.

"No," you answer with a low laugh.

He starts by turning you around, making you stand with your back facing him, not allowing you to see which knot he's going to do with.

"Hands to the back," he orders with his head looming on your shoulder.

You comply right away, putting your hands to the back.

"Shibari is based on power play. When you're the person with the rope, the rigger, you're actually the one who is surrendering and trusting your partner," the expert says as she walks around watching everyone tying each other up.

That's what you're going to do, you're going to trust Minho and he'll be having too much fun with it but he'll do nothing to hurt you.

The second the rope brushes with your skin, you feel a chill down your spine and when Minho pulls them, tightening them around your wrists, you let out a low moan.

Once he's done with the hands, he tidies the ends of the rope before instructing you to lay on your stomach on the mat

You're getting even more nervous as he bends your legs to the back and ties them together.

"Too tight?" He asks.

You test the knot by twisting your ankles together but it doesn't budge at all, "mmh," you hum in answer.

"Good," he calmly responds.

If this is his way of getting back at you then you just have to accept it. You should be grateful that he doesn't tie the rope around your neck.

He then brings your hands and legs together, tying them with the rest of the rope. He pulls at it to make sure the knot is securely tied.

You try to wiggle your body and try any way you can to break away but it's a fruitless effort, you're running out of breath from lying on your stomach for too long.

Minho notices and helps you to turn over, but your hands are now pressed under your body as you lay on your back.

"I can't get out of this," you tell him as he stands, towering over your body.

"No, you can't," he says with a malicious grin.

Minho then lays next to you on the mat, scoots closer to shield you from the sun, and then props a hand under his head as he enjoys watching you helplessly lying next to him.

"You're enjoying this," you say.

That's a wrong thing to say because he hasn't started yet. He picks a flower from the plant near him and uses it to caress your body, dragging the soft petal down the front of your body.

He knows that it does things to you and he can see it from the way your chest is heaving as the flower reaches to your lower abdomen.

Your legs are slightly shaking as he drags it lower and then stops right on the elastic band of your bikini bottom, tugging the flower there.

-

YOU: I must say it's the best kind of punishment. I don't even think it's a punishment [winks]

-

"Why did you kiss him?"

You know that Zara has been waiting to ask you that from the moment she found out about it.

You dab your face with a layer of foundation to get ready for the night, "I don't know. I was having fun."

She gives you a scolding look and tips her head to the side, "Girl!"

"I know but at that time I was feeling like... You know, it was so easy to break the rules," you honestly answer because you did feel that way.

There was nothing intimate about the kiss with Jack, if anything it was selfish of you to spend money on a meaningless kiss. You can see now how foolish you were for doing that.

"But instead of upset, I am so jealous of you," she says with a sad sigh.

You get quiet because you know how hard it is for her to even try to tempt Bryan to break the rules with her.

"He didn't even let me cuddle him," she adds.

It's a good thing that Bryan wants to be on Lana's good side but he disregards Zara's opinions about it, putting her needs aside which makes him just as selfish as you are.

-

YOU: The plan is I'm going to look hot, be a good girl, and talk to Minho. Wish me luck [Crosses fingers]

-

Taking a glass of drink to fuel your courage, you check if Minho is in a good mood before coming and start talking to him.

"Can I sit with you?" You ask for his permission when you usually would plop down next to him without asking.

He glances up and nods, "Yeah."

Minho doesn't talk much and you should be used to his short, concise answers but it seems a little different tonight, there's an edge to it.

You sit next to him and put a space in between, "You look good tonight," you compliment.

Minho is indeed looking good tonight. That's why he model, because everything looks good on him but you bet that he looks better with nothing on.

He tips his head to one side and looks at the dress you're wearing, "You too," he compliments back with a thin smile.

A little attention is better than nothing. You sweetly smile and mutter, "Aw, thank you!"

Before you forget your initial reason because of just one compliment, you remind yourself that you come to talk.

"So... how are we feeling?" You ask, testing the water before diving right into it.

"About what?" He innocently asks.

You lick your lips before answering, "About the kiss."

"Which kiss?"

Your palms are getting sweaty on your lap. It's like whatever answer you're going to give him would be a wrong one.

"Our kisses or...?" He asks again because you stay quiet.

You take a breath and try to slowly explain everything, "I think the kisses we shared are special. I can see that we have chemistry and connection."

He tilts his head low enough to give you the stare, "If that's so then why did you kiss someone else?"

You keep your calm and answer, "That kiss with Jack, it was nothing. I don't have any feelings for him so you don't have to worry about that."

Minho responds with a nod but no words come out of his slightly parted mouth.

-

YOU: I usually just walk away from a situation like this and stop caring about it but I want to make this work with him.

-

"Are you mad at me?" You ask because that's what you're dying to know.

He's been too calm that you start to think that he probably doesn't like you to even care about it but he only replies with a shrug.

"I don't want you to be mad at me because I do like you," you tell him to get an answer out of him.

He stares at you and makes you wait in anticipation to get a response from him. After a while, he leans back on the sofa and says, "We'll see."

You usually like the mystery those words bring whenever Minho says that but not this time.

"'We'll see'? What is that supposed to mean?" You ask in pure confusion.

"I need time," he answers.

You scoff and try to process his answer, "You want me to sit around and wait for like what? A week? Ten days?"

He slumps down the sofa and spreads his legs, casually he says, "I need time to get over it so until then... We'll see."

-

YOU: I kissed Jack because I saw Minho flirting with the other girls so why am I the only one having to wait for him to come around?

-

"Okay," you meekly say even though you're not sure that he'll get over it before the retreat ends.

You think that this is possibly his way to keep his options open or maybe that your fear is true, he doesn't like you that much. You just like to play games with each other.

"Are we still going to sleep in the same bed?"

"I don't know," he replies.

This is probably the right time to cut everything off before you get too attached to him when the options are still wide open and who knows that Lana will bring more guests to the retreat, there are many possibilities so why do you have to trap yourself in such a confusing situation and wasting your time on one guy?

You look away and shrug, "Okay, alright."

-

YOU: If Minho doesn't want to give me what I want then I'll just have to get it from someone else.

-

You're not tired but you're so ready for bed. You brush your hair quickly before going to the bedroom.

You don't look around but going to Jack's bed, you put the duvet away and say, "Come on, you're sleeping with me tonight," you tell him.

He looks taken aback but awkwardly follows you as you climb onto the bed you shared with Minho for the past two days.

Agnes is giving you the questioning look but just like everyone else, they don't say anything but let the drama unfold.

You get under the cover with him and turn to the side to look at him, "Are you cuddly, Jack?"

He pauses for a moment then says, "I am."

"I love good cuddles."

"Yeah?" He asks with a gleeful grin and eyes that are filled with hopeful glints.

"Of course."

-

YOU: I told you, Jack is my cute boy toy.

-

You slip your hand in his curls and play with it, at the same time, watching the door because Minho can come at any minute now.

"Your hair is so soft," you comment.

The door swings open and Minho steps inside, stopping on his track for a second to see that someone else has taken his spot.

The brief look he gives you is enough to make you gulp air, he's saying nothing but has to share a bed with Alia.

The silence is suffocating as everyone watches intently every gesture or expression on either you or Minho to get any hints about what's happening between the two of you.

Their eyes are going back and forth because your beds are facing each other.

"Don't you feel a little hot, Jack?" You ask.

"Uhm..." he hums as he thinks of an answer to such an easy question, "I think so."

You sit on the bed and look in Minho's direction, not necessarily seeing him eye to eye. You take your top off, not caring that this will be broadcasted all over the world and everyone can see your tits.

"Oh... fuck..." you hear Jack curses under his breath next to you.

Minho takes a sip of water from his tumbler and you can see that his jaw tensed as he swallows his water.

Once the lights are out, you get under the cover and turn to the side to face Jack. For someone who kissed two girls at once, he's playing safe by keeping his hands away from you.

You lean in close to his pillow, "How was your day?"

He rakes his brain to answer another simple question, "Can't complain," he answers.

You giggle because of how cute he is, how oblivious to the fact that you're using him to make Minho jealous. When you think about the kiss you shared with him, he isn't that bad of a kisser, he was too excited at that time to focus on using his skill.

You kind of want to give him a second chance so you lean in closer and ask him, "What do you think about spending 6 grand tonight?"

-

YOU: We'll see? No, Minho. You'll see.

-

Support my blog by kindly reblog, comment or tip me on my ko-fi!

taglist: @svintsandghosts @abiaswreck @septicrebel @cursed-mars-bars @ppiri-bahng @drhsthl @tangylemonade @bluenights1899 @thisisnotstraight88 @elizalabs3 @avyskai @is2cb97 @simeonswhore @marvelous-llama @linovely @jisungsleftcheek @hanjisbeloved @luvsskzs @knowleeknow @army-stay-noel @djeniryuu @bigsobs4skz @toplinehyunjin @channies-luv @foxinnie8 @biribarabiribbaem @dalamjisung @moasworld @sherryblossom @fawnpeaks @lukeys-giggle @obeythemasters @primoppang @devilsmatches @skz-streamer @freckleboilix @idkluvutellme @laylasbunbunny

[writerpeach]

Overindulgent

IVE Jang Wonyoung x m!reader

14k+ words

---

Read on AFF

Read on AO3

“Chocolate or strawberry?”

It should have been a simple question to answer.

As simple as naming a favorite color, most people would have no trouble answering without hesitation, based on preference or what one was in the mood for. Milkshakes were the perfect treat, universally loved and the best thing to have on a hot summer day, especially after a grueling two-hour, forgettable class.

But most people weren’t Jang Wonyoung. “Two flavors? That’s all?”

Around her, nothing would ever be simple. If you asked her to name two numbers, she would find some justification to add a third.

“Sorry, princess,” you said with obvious mockery in your tone. “That’s all there is. But you can add toppings.”

“If one of those toppings isn’t mint, then I don’t---ugh, fine. Strawberry.”

Wonyoung audibly sighed when she grabbed her pink milkshake, sitting down at one of the white leather booths in the farthest possible corner from everything as could be.

She looked unsatisfied even before her first sip, and lifelessly stirred the creamy concoction, hoping to somehow conjure up something more appealing. Wonyoung had very specific tastes, and didn’t particularly care for stepping out of her comfort zone.

Watching for her reaction, Wonyoung made a loud slurp through her long red straw set amidst a sea of sugar. “How is it?”

“It’s too sweet.”

Of all the possibilities in the world, nothing prepared you for that one.

“It’s a milkshake…” you said with a furrowed brow.

Yujin introduced you to this particular place. Two straws, one big chocolate milkshake, and an elated look of bliss on her face later, and she was slurping it down until nothing but air filled her straw. So it was only natural that you’d invite Wonyoung here with the same expectations. That was your first mistake.

“Well, it’s too sweet.”

Incredible.

Being seated across the booth from Wonyoung felt like you were part of a failed science experiment, because every sip taken came with a different reaction, like she expected her opinion to change. When she wiped bits of whipped cream from her glossy lips, the growing disdain on her face didn’t disappear with it.

Who knew you'd located the sole person in the entire universe who disliked milkshakes? That alone was an achievement worthy of a medal or plaque to proudly display on the fireplace for all to see.

“Here, you finish it,” Wonyoung said, verging on demand as she slid it across the table next to your half-finished chocolate shake.

“But I already have one. And this is plenty,” you replied, taking a long sip, and savoring the sugary bliss to help ease the pain of your astonishment.

“Ugh, fine. Just throw it away. I paid for them both, but I don’t even want to look at it anymore.”

“No---wait. I’ll save it for Yujin. She loves sweet things.”

“Fine. It’s a good thing I brought my car then. Wouldn’t want it to melt. I’ve seen how much she enjoys swallowing creamy thick liquids down her throat…”

Something so uncharacteristic caught you off-guard. Jang Wonyoung was many things: bossy, spoiled, infuriating more times than you could count, but lewd jokes that sprang from nowhere without so much as a smirk? Not what you expected today.

Wonyoung slid out of the booth and made for the exit. You followed behind, both milkshakes in hand, and took turns sipping from each one, enjoying the unique flavors each brought.

“I can’t believe anyone likes those things. They’re just sugar.”

“That’s why everyone likes them. But that would assume our little princess actually knew how to enjoy anything.” That remark caught you in her deadly gaze, but you didn’t hold back the smile on your face, perhaps to your detriment.

“Keep that up and you’re walking home.”

“Oh, come on, princess. We both know you enjoy my company too much. It’s not my fault you can’t take a little joke.”

“Is that so?” Wonyoung entered her black, two-door sports car and closed the door with yet another icy glare. Seconds after, you grabbed the cold metal handle and opened it, to no avail. Without success, you tried again---but the door didn’t budge an inch. Tapping on the window proved as pointless as offering Wonyoung another sip of milkshake.

“Wonyoung---“ Ignoring any attempt you made to grab her attention, she instead revved the engine in succession and avoided your gaze with every stomp on the pedal.

Surely, she wouldn’t---

“Come on, this isn’t funny. Just open the door.” The door handle might as well have been fashioned out of paper and glued on, for as useless as it now was. After trying one last time, Wonyoung cracked open the window just enough to speak.

“It’s not my fault you can’t take a little joke.” That was the last thing you heard before her tires squealed and she sped off without looking back.

…she would.

Guess you were walking off all that ice cream.

You still couldn’t believe it. Wonyoung wasn’t a stranger to your teasing, but never took it so seriously before. On the plus side, at least the ice cream shop wasn’t more than a twenty-minute walk from your place. Well, it wasn’t exactly your place, and you just had the privilege of living in a luxurious high-rise apartment that had Wonyoung and Yujin’s names on the dotted line.

Ten minutes from campus, the loft came fully furnished with an always stocked fridge, a gorgeous pool, spacious bedrooms, and one of the best views you could ask for, while also saving you from the nightmares of dorm life.

Quite contrary to your first year of college spent in a shoe-box sized room, an uncomfortable bed, and a quiet, messy roommate, always there when you needed just a minute to yourself. It taught you a valuable lesson to never underestimate the value of privacy.

Maybe a stroke of luck that at the end of that semester from hell came your first encounter with Yujin. Tucked away in a secluded corner at the library, she recognized you from class and offered to help study. One study session grew into two, which turned into three, then led into several sessions over coffee every week, until you were seeing each other virtually every day.

Over time, the two of you got closer, meeting without the pretense of studying. Then one day, the books got tossed aside, and the only thing being studied was how far Yujin could ram her tongue down your mouth.

You learned early on how difficult it was to say no to Yujin. Whether you were in the middle of the library, taking up spots on the packed couches, the always crowded student center, or right by the administration office, no place was off-limits for an impromptu make-out session. Eventually, those steamy make-out sessions migrated to Yujin’s place, where your first encounter with her younger roommate Wonyoung took place with your pants and underwear around your ankles.

You didn’t know what was more awkward, the act of being caught in the middle of Yujin blowing you on the couch, or that Wonyoung stayed for the entire show. And that was your first lesson about Wonyoung and her voyeuristic tendencies.

The two of them were the best of friends and never strayed far from one another outside of class. But Wonyoung loved to watch your sex-crazed moments with Yujin, insisting that she wouldn’t get in the way or be noticeable. Which, true or not, could never be something you grew used to---the younger of the two sitting silently inches away, lurking like a cat in the shadows when you ate her out on the kitchen counter, while Yujin rode you on the couch, or whatever other outcome that ended with the both of you covered in sweat and panting heavily.

Months later, you were moving in at their behest, which made sense when you spent most of your time there. Any offerings to pay your fair share of rent were denied, as both of your new roommates were very well off with no financial concerns. Nevertheless, your infinite methods of pleasuring Yujin more than made up for it.

So after settling in, (which took some time for you to grow accustomed to waking up surrounded by luxury), you couldn’t be more thankful, not only being freed from the burdens of rent but also from the tortures of dorm living, and the three of you grew inseparable.

Mostly. Because when Wonyoung was in a bad mood, the whole universe knew about it. Making her the butt of jokes was your way of chipping away at that stuck up attitude, but it had never backfired quite spectacularly like this.

As you neared your shared loft, a tremendous sense of relief filled your body, but did little to dissipate the anger that pumped through your veins. Overheated, sweaty, and stuck holding a milkshake that no longer met that definition, the only thing that cooled your temper (quite literally), was the frigid blasts of air-conditioning that hit you when you stepped through the front door.

“Oh, look who it is. Enjoy the sun?” asked Wonyoung when you stepped inside, lying at the end of the L-shaped gray couch. Sporting a smug smile on her face, she folded her arms, and leaned back into the cushions, completely oblivious to the daggers you stared in her direction.

“Daddy, you’re home. Where were you?” Yujin asked as she approached closer, embracing you in her arms, and planted a kiss on your cheek. “You’re all sweaty. And you’re burning up, too.”

“Maybe you should ask her.” With gritted teeth, you stared a hole into the petite woman sprawled out on the couch cushions, face buried in her phone without a single care in the world.

“Wonyoung?”

“Yes, unnie?” she asked, reluctant to look up for even a moment. Too obsessed with her phone, Wonyoung wouldn’t even notice if the house was on fire.

“Weren’t you two together? Why did you make it home first by yourself? And why does daddy look like he just ran a marathon?”

“Hold on, I almost have enough jades for another pull.”

“Jang Wonyoung! Answer me. You’ve already spent enough money on that stupid game.”

“It’s not stupid, you’re just bad at it. Don’t be jealous because I have better characters than you.”

Yujin let out a heavy sigh while a frown formed on her face, torn between scolding Wonyoung or ensuring you were alright.

Meanwhile, you hurried to the refrigerator out of fear of passing out and downed a bottle of water, but left just enough liquid to pour over your head, running your fingers through wet hair to cool yourself off more.

“Daddy, what happened? Why are you so tired?” Yujin asked, entering the kitchen as she turned her attention away from Wonyoung.

“Because this fucking brat ditched me.”

“Listen here, asshole---“ Wonyoung finally sat up from her phone, tossed it aside and clenched her fists, the swelling rage in her eyes overtaking her body.

“Hey, stop that. Both of you,” Yujin said, rapidly losing control of the situation. That sweet voice of hers could soothe an entire forest fire, but here, it held zero sway when your bickering became like two rams butting heads.

“What’s the matter, princess? Your servants haven’t arrived to cook your five star meal and clean your throne?”

“Daddy, that’s enough,” Yujin warned, trying to tug at your arm while making herself a barrier between the two of you.

“I don’t get what you’re upset about. Don’t you love the outdoors? Like when you made me walk in the woods for hours? I told you, I hate bugs.”

“What a shocker, you hate everything! Rain, milkshakes, anything that isn’t you being pampered---“

“Enough!” Yujin said as she slammed her fists on the kitchen counter, making the cabinets shake. “You’re both in university, aren’t you? Or did you suddenly enroll in preschool? Because you’re both acting like children.”

The house grew eerily silent. After getting a second bottle of water, you leaned against the refrigerator and sipped it silently as your body tensed up.

“Wonyoung, I want you to apologize,” Yujin said, lowering her voice as she tried to control the chaos.

“What?” she scoffed, sinking back into the couch as she squeezed her phone tight. “Why? I didn’t do anything.”

Yujin clenched her jaw as she took a deep breath. “Apologize. Now.”

“Of course, you always take sides with him. Just because daddy has a nice cock doesn’t mean you have to agree with everything he says.”

“This isn’t about sides. This is about resolving a situation that I wasn’t there to handle. I want both of you to apologize. You’ve both been living together far too long to have childish arguments like this.”

“Absolutely not. I won’t apologize when I haven’t done anything wrong,” Wonyoung murmured as she stormed towards her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

Yujin rubbed her temple in frustration. “I can’t deal with this right now. I have class in thirty minutes and I haven’t even eaten lunch yet.”

Gathering her things up, Yujin stuffed them into her bag before slinging it over her shoulder. After giving you one last kiss on the forehead, she turned towards the door. “Sorry, daddy. I know it wasn’t your fault. She’s just like this sometimes. She’s still so young, it’s been one of her traits I thought she’d grow out of…”

“It’s fine, Yujin. I’ll let her calm down, then try to talk things out with her. I shouldn’t have pushed so many buttons.”

“Thanks, daddy. Just try not to kill each other while I’m gone, okay?”

“I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all I can ask.” Yujin’s radiating smile put out any last remnants of anger you had, with the door closing a signal of her departure. Seeking refuge on the couch, you plopped down, kicked your shoes off, and relaxed into the pillows, the first chance of relaxation since your alarm went off. If it wasn’t early afternoon and you didn't have any studying to do, you would open one of the more fancy bottles of wine that was calling your name from the kitchen cabinet.

Instead, you opted for something more mundane and grabbed the remote, accepting whatever suggestion the TV app doled out, even if you settled with background noise to help relax.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Wonyoung repeated louder and shook your shoulder, waking you up from an unexpected, unplanned nap that left you in a haze, unable to even discern what hour it was.

“What?” you sleepily asked, rubbing your eyes while you returned back to consciousness. The lack of proper sleep caught up with you, and the past hour didn’t help one bit.

“Can you turn it down a little? I’m trying to study, and you’re making that difficult.”

Not even fully awake, the last thing you wanted to hear was Wonyoung’s voice, let alone more complaints. It would be effortless to indulge what she asked, but you had no intentions to do anything about the noise. It was the last thing she deserved.

“And your loud voice is making it difficult for me to sleep,” you blurted out, unable to hide your annoyance. “I didn’t know you studied. I thought you just complained and bossed people around.”

Wonyoung maintained her steely gaze, tone calm and collected, a vast difference from before. “You have a bedroom, you know. Upstairs? Ugh, I’m not here to argue. I have a test on Friday that’s twenty percent, which is bullshit. I can’t fail it.”

“Then maybe you should go back to studying,” you said, disregarding her attempts to make eye contact.

“What do you think I’ve been trying to do?” Wonyoung asked, rolling her eyes. “How am I supposed to get any studying done if you keep interrupting with your---whatever the hell this is you’re watching…”

Ignoring her was the only suitable option. You shifted your body sideways with hopes to elude her, only allowing furtive glances while focused on the screen. No matter what, you could still feel her presence looming while doing everything to avoid another heated argument.

Unable to stand still for a moment, Wonyoung interrupted the silence with a huff, a sign of surrender as she joined you on the couch and tucked her long legs underneath her. Grabbing a pillow from behind, she squeezed it, using it as stress relief when pressed against her chest. “You know, sometimes you can be a bit of an ass.”

You found it impossible not to laugh and eventually gave her the attention she didn’t deserve. “I know I didn’t just hear a spoiled little brat tell me what type of person I am.”

“I’m not always the nicest person, I’ll admit that,” Wonyoung muttered, sinking her head back into the pillows. Finally, something you could both agree on. But it still didn’t excuse her earlier actions.

“Is this your way of apologizing?“ you asked, and the way she looked at you resembled like you had just asked her to strip naked in front of you.

“You think I’m going to apologize?”

“No, because I know you’re not capable of ever admitting you were wrong.”

“That’s because I’m never wrong.” Wonyoung took a deep breath and let it out slowly to bring her composure under control. “If you thought I was going to get on my knees and beg for forgiveness, that’s not happening.”

Wonyoung might have had all the money in the world, but it couldn’t buy an apology. “But I’m sure you’re used to getting on your knees.”

Her mouth dropped open, and you almost had an immediate regret for delivering such a low blow---almost. Fueled by anger, Wonyoung flung a pillow at your head, but you dodged it with ease, laughing at what a pathetic throw it was.

“You really are an asshole sometimes.”

Who needed an apology when you could see such a pissed off look on Wonyoung’s pretty face? It was the most irate you had ever seen her, a pure ball of fury; trembling fists, clenched jaw, and a death stare that could cut through diamonds.

“Oh, did I upset the princess again?”

“Stop calling me th---you know what, you’re not worth my time,” Wonyoung breathed out, narrowing her eyes before rising to her feet.

“And that’s your problem, princess.”

“What?” she asked, taking a step forward and balled her fists as she pivoted to confront you, letting you see the rage up close on her features.

“Nobody is worth your time. You don’t care about anything or anyone but yourself, unless it benefits you some shape or fashion.”

“That’s not true, how the fuck would you know what I care about? Just because we’ve lived together for months doesn’t mean you know anything about me.”

“You’ve got a mouth on you princess. That’s not like you.”

“I said don’t call me that!”

“Or what?” Following suit, you stood up, matching her height and then some. “You’ll cry about it? Complain some more?”

Wonyoung didn’t utter a word. Her anger boiled over, and without warning, she smacked you across the face, leaving both a sting and a smile across your face.

“That’s it, princess, let it all out.” Without retaliation, you let her inch forward, backing you up until you were pressed up against the living room wall. Wonyoung was hardly a threat. Her tall, but petite figure wasn’t remotely intimidating, and the closer she got, the more anger you could see in her eyes. Your smile widened as she delivered a harsher slap to your face, but you seized her delicate wrist to prevent a third, until eventually you let go, which provoked her to strike your cheek once again.

Those slaps only had as much power as her anger, with no remorse behind them, and the only reason you didn’t stop her was the see the explosive wrath in her pretty round eyes. The option to defuse the situation existed whenever you deemed it necessary, as simple as either picking her slender body up to toss her on the couch, or escorting her back to her room, whatever made her stop acting like such a pedantic little brat.

But testing Wonyoung’s limited patience became a game to you, until it snapped like the flimsiest of threads, letting her pretend she had the upper hand. The sting on your cheek only encouraged you to toy with her, adding fuel to the fires of rage.

Her little chest heaved as she recovered from the barrage of slaps, heart beating loud enough for you to hear. “Feel better?”

“Not even close.”

“Then hit me again. Come on, princess, Yujin isn’t here to save you. Why don’t you give it your all and make them hurt?”

Upping the agitation by repeatedly pointing at your cheek, you could do this all day. Because, god she made things far too easy.

“No. Like I said, you’re not---worth---it.”

The more she repeated that, the more you doubted it. Because Wonyoung could have backed away, retreated to her bedroom, the kitchen, the pool, literally anywhere else. Yet, she kept her feet planted firmly where she was, face to face so close that you could see your own reflection in her eyes.

And while you were so near, you could map out her perfect features, from her pink glossy lips to her typically bright eyes filled with fury, and everything in between. “You know, you’re pretty when you’re angry.”

The corners of her mouth twitched. Contrary to what you expected, Wonyoung’s intense gaze softened, and her fists relaxed until her breathing began to stabilize. You knew how to strike her weakness, that a simple compliment would douse her red hot rage and stroke her ego, even if she wouldn’t admit it.

“D-don’t even start,” she said, but you could hear how flustered she became, how shaky her voice sounded. Another step and your foreheads would have touched, close enough already that you could smell the berries from her shampoo.

Wonyoung froze as a wave of emotions ran through her. You easily got lost in her lingering gaze, wondering what exactly went on behind those beautiful dark eyes. “That’s what you love, right? Being told how pretty you are?”

“Shut up. I don’t need compliments.”

Oh, but she did. Jang Wonyoung was a terrible liar and loved being showered in compliments almost as much as she loved arguing. You knew that vanity was her weak spot, and you planned to exploit that vulnerability.

“Answer me, princess. Do you like being called pretty?”

“I thought I told you to shut up, didn’t I?”

“What are you going to do if I---“

Before you could finish speaking, Wonyoung shoved you up against the wall and pressed her luscious lips against yours with surprising force. All that rage and resentment transformed into pure, unadulterated lust, which made you forget what you were even mad about in the first place.

The sweet taste of Wonyoung’s soft lips became the only thing that preoccupied your mind, alongside how your tongues danced in each other’s mouth, and how badly you wanted one thing---her.

With all rational thoughts and logic thrown out, you lifted Wonyoung’s petite frame up off the ground, snaked your arms around her tiny little waist and reclaimed control by press-ing her up against the wall. As the kiss kept going, Wonyoung tugged at your hair, trying to get any little advantage she could, but you didn’t let it distract you from exploring the soft curves of her tight body, and moved down to grab her ass, squeezing firmly as the both of you fought to deepen the kiss.

Breaking apart for air, you could see the rosy hues visible on her cheeks, those round eyes no longer filled with fury, but deep desire. And then you dove right back in for round two, lips parted once more, while hands roamed bodies and lips smacked, eager to keep her taste lingering in your mouth. When you kneaded Wonyoung’s ass harder, she moaned in your mouth, and you could feel every little touch making her tight body tremble.

She leaned forward to rest her forehead against yours, breath warm against your face. “God, you’re so annoying. I hate how good of a kisser you are.”

“And you’re such a brat.”

“But you like brats. Isn’t that right, daddy?”

“You don’t get to call me that.”

“Aw, is daddy getting mad again? Wait, where’s Yujin?” Wonyoung had been so caught up in the moment that she hadn’t even realized her closest friend and roommate hadn’t been there in hours.

“She went to class. Should probably be back soon.”

“Class? Yujin doesn’t have classes today.” Wonyoung raised her eyebrow, tilting her head in suspicion. “So that means…”

“She won’t be back for a while,” you said, putting the pieces together. Wonyoung giggled before leaning in once more to steal another kiss. You let her lead for a moment, and ran fingertips up the small of her back, tracing the hot skin while keeping her weight against the wall. Then, while those tiny gasps continued, you moved down her neck, kissing all the exposed skin you could find.

“Ah, that’s good, but---put me down.”

“Why?” Unfazed by the tone of voice, you continued to pepper her skin with kisses, motivated by the breathless moans she kept letting out.

“You really have to ask? Because I’m going to suck your dick, dummy.”

That sudden shift of mood could only make you grin from ear to ear. Clearly, Yujin must have been rubbing off on her, because something so blatant wasn’t like Wonyoung.

“You’re so demanding,” you said, taking one more chance to kiss and suck at her delicate neck. Biting lightly, that elicited another moan from her as her head fell back against the wall, long raven locks flowing down her shoulders.

“Do you want my mouth on your cock or not?”

“Did I say no, you fucking brat?” Pulling Wonyoung away from the wall, you set her back down in what wouldn’t fit any definition of gentle. Before you knew it, she dropped to her knees in front of you, and her hands began sliding up and down the legs of your pants.

Wonyoung looked nothing but eager on her knees as she bit on her bottom lip, and stared up through bright eyes that held lust, with her fluffy cheeks turning a lighter shade of pink. Before she did anything else, you tugged one strap of her dress as her eyes stayed stubbornly locked on yours. “Take this off first, princess.”

You weren’t so sure how compliant Wonyoung would be. The expectation would be not at all, but then she passed that first test, lowered each strap down her bare shoulders, and furled her dress down to her waist without breaking eye contact, which left her cute chest adorned by nothing but a candy pink bra.

In all of your time living together, you never saw that much of her creamy skin, usually covered up. That flat tummy, slender waist, and those small, perky tits only made you crave more, but you couldn’t let greed dictate your actions---at least not yet.

“Cute bra.”

“Thanks. But that’s all you get for now. Daddy.” The more Wonyoung used that word to annoy you, the more it seemed to fit, like it rolled off her tongue involuntarily and became less and less mocking with each usage.

Things moved too fast to comprehend. Moments ago, you were at each other’s throats, with your relationship being threatened. And now, Wonyoung proudly stayed on her knees, fingers playing with your zipper with a look of submission that promised something unforgettable. While she tugged your pants down, you saved time by discarding your shirt, smiling at how Wonyoung couldn’t take her eyes off your freshly exposed chest, palming your crotch while practically drooling over your body.

“You’re staring, princess.”

"Oh, I know," she replied, grazing your abdomen with her fingertips before kissing where she had been studying your torso, the softness of her lips on bare skin making your breath hitch. Her mouth left a trail of hot kisses along your stomach, and then licked a stripe up the crotch of your boxers just to make you twitch, building up more anticipation.

“You have such a nice body. I see why Yujin likes you so much.”

“Dashing good looks, charming personality, a high GPA, about two dozen other reasons…”

Wonyoung rolled her eyes and slipped her fingers into the waistband of your underwear, testing your patience, and didn’t dare let her eye contact drop. “Your dick is really hard, daddy. It looks so big, I can’t wait to see what Yujin has been keeping to herself.”

A quick tug later, and you were the first one naked in the open, standing in a heap of discarded clothes while your cock ached for attention. Wonyoung’s pretty eyes widened at the reveal of your cock, and she felt your erection spring to life the instant she grabbed it, forming a tight fist with all of her long, veiny fingers.

“Your dick feels so nice, daddy. You’re like, really hard. It’s like a fucking rock,” Wonyoung giggled when she stroked your length, running her icy hands across your swelling shaft, which instantly caused a bundle of soft moans at her touch. With her watching the spiraling pleasure in your eyes, every little stroke made you twitch between her nimble fingers, distracting you from anything else while she both pumped your shaft and gently caressed your balls.

“Fuck, you’re so huge. Look how small my hands look when I stroke your cock…” The way she said almost sounded like a whine, which given the source, wasn’t unexpected. As Wonyoung spent more time introducing herself to your cock, she planted a chaste kiss on your cockhead, earning herself another groan at your expense.

“I can’t believe you’ve both been hiding this dick from me.”

Wonyoung admired every aspect of your throbbing shaft, cupping your balls with her free hand while she kept a firm grip on whatever could fit in between her fingers. She tightened that grip and began to explore your length with her hungry tongue, mapping out your erection from base to tip just enough to get your cock wet, then took needy little licks against your swollen tip, claiming any drops that leaked from your slit.

“Such a beautiful cock. And now it’s all mine.’’ Then, without warning, Wonyoung parted her sultry, inviting lips, bringing your shaft into the warmth of her awaiting mouth and sealed them tight around your aching cock.

“Princess---“ you managed to groan out, toes curling into the rug underneath. The biggest spike of pleasure came when those glossy lips sealed around your cockhead, making your head tilt back in ecstasy as her warm, impatient mouth went to work. That lust-filled gaze kept you trapped as she sucked you off with her impossibly soft lips, slowly at first, drawing out every groan before bobbing her head faster, and focused on every reaction you made while her cheeks hollowed.

When Wonyoung felt your hips beginning to buck, she pulled you even further inside her throat, and her tongue began to playfully tease the underside of your shaft, driving you further down the edge of insanity. “Princess, my god---that feels incredible.”

“Of course it does. You’d think I’d ever be bad at something?” Wonyoung chuckled, flashing a confident smile as she painted your length with her tongue, then traced the veins of your shaft while enjoying the way you let out short gasps when she found your favorite spot. She flicked against it several times until returning you to her mouth, and you desperately tried to stop yourself from pushing into her throat---a losing battle before it started.

“You look so pretty sucking my dick, princess. That mouth feels---so---fucking---good,“ you groaned, and praise only had its benefits as Wonyoung reached for your balls once more, fondling them with the gentlest of touches and teased them with her slender fingers. Within moments, she found that sweet spot that you thought only Yujin knew about, which made every throb that much more overwhelming in its intensity.

“Your balls feel so heavy, daddy. Isn’t Yujin draining them enough?” Wonyoung asked, letting her enveloping lips slide with ease over your shaft, almost to the end of your base.

Quite the opposite, because while Wonyoung showered first thing in the morning, Yujin milked a massive load out of you, counting out every single time she edged you until you exploded in her hands. And then another one right before her first class, emptying you into her mouth while you ate her out.

“Do you really think that?”

“No, of course not,” Wonyoung said, shaking her head. “Pretty sure I could hear you moaning her name when I was in the shower. You’re cute when you beg.”

“I wasn’t beg---“ The warm mouth back on your cock shut you up when you hit the back of Wonyoung’s tightening throat for the first time, nearly toppling you over with pleasure. Your legs trembled as she worked her mouth with more fervor, keeping you buried down her throat just long enough to give you the satisfaction desired before coming up for air.

This girl knew just how to earn that praise. Her wet little tongue darted out from between her lips to swirl around the tip of your cock, flicking around in perfect circles around the delicate underside of your shaft, then combined it with tender kisses, soft licks, and hot breath to target that ultra-sensitive spot you knew she didn’t learn on her own. But fuck, it felt so good that you didn’t care how she found it. Not when Wonyoung kept you on edge and shifted her concentration to your balls that hadn’t been given nearly enough attention. She eagerly teased them with sloppy licks until she slipped them one at a time into her mouth, and kept a hand pumping your rock-hard cock, only to lick back up your length to swallow you up once more.

“Oh my god, princess. That pretty mouth does more than just complain,” you said, pushing your luck further than you had any right to, and you wouldn’t be surprised if Wonyoung left you in the middle of the living room with your pants around your ankles. Thankfully, she didn’t, and kept the train of bliss moving, determined to coat your cock with all of her spit and lip gloss.

“What do you think Yujin would say if she saw me on my knees blowing her daddy?”

“I think she’d say you should do a better job.”

“Asshole. You really want me to stop, don’t you?”

“No, but I can tell you’re not going to with how much you’re also enjoying this.” Wonyoung really couldn’t argue with that no matter how much she wanted to, and put that energy into keeping her lips down your cock, ensuring a constant, messy trail of saliva.

“I’ll enjoy it all day if it means you stay quiet.”

If that’s all it took, then she should have offered that from the very start. Because more than you liked to admit, her mouth drove you fucking crazy, like in a way you’d drop out of university and commit crimes to get a blowjob like this. Not quite like Yujin, who had a several page long resume of blowjob techniques that involved more than just her tongue and lips, but everything Wonyoung did was more than enough to keep you from thinking straight.

Your entire body jolted after every slurp and lick, and Wonyoung took advantage of how easy it was to tease you. Her magical hands explored your body, caressing your thighs, your ass, and anywhere else she could without losing her focus.

“Hmph. You really don’t think I’m as good as Yujin?”

That jealous trait of hers always liked to creep up, because Wonyoung couldn’t stand being second best at anything. You couldn’t lie to her either, because as good as she was at devouring your cock---Yujin would always be next level.

“No. Sorry, princess, but it’s not even close.”

You could see the disappointment in Wonyoung’s face, but she instead turned that discouragement into eagerness, moving her mouth down your length to swallow every last inch up. It only proved your point when she gagged after holding your cock down her throat for far longer than she was used to.

“For starters, you’re nowhere near sloppy enough.”

Wonyoung sighed through gritted teeth as she stroked you, placing wet kisses alongside your throbbing cock. “Then help me out. Make me sloppier.”

Letting out a devilish grin that plastered your face, you leaned closer and slid your hand through her raven black hair, yanking with enough force to tilt her head back, which gave easier access to that perfect mouth.

“It would be my pleasure, princess,” you said as you leisurely stroked your cock in front of Wonyoung’s angelic face, while her big doe eyes stared longingly up at you. It was enough to make you explode just by looking at those gorgeous features.

“Daddy---“ she whined as you relieved yourself by rubbing your swollen cockhead on those full red lips, using your pre-cum as a replacement lip gloss.

“Didn’t I say you don’t get to use that?”

“But daddy likes it when I call you that, don’t you? Daddy…” Always trying to get under your skin, even in a moment like this. But unexpectedly, that one word caused more damage than you thought, and Wonyoung had grown addicted to using it already, with no any pretense or hesitation.

“Want daddy to fuck my mouth. Come on, I know you wanna shove it down my throat and shut me up. I’ve been such a naughty little brat, won’t you do something about that?”

Wonyoung leaning into her brat persona was not something you predicted, but when she put it that way, what were brats if not something to be punished? It wouldn’t hurt to oblige her, given that she wouldn’t give up until she got her way regardless, but you at least needed something in return.

“I’ll make you gag on this dick, but let me see those cute tits, princess.”

An innocent smile overtook her face as she reached behind her back to comply, tugging on the clasp of her bra, heightening your expectations. “Okay, daddy.”

This iteration of Wonyoung, in this submissive and obedient state was far superior, and you’d expect her to do what you asked at this stage, devoid of any backtalk or snarky comments.

“Daddy, your cock,” Wonyoung pleaded, eyes narrowing while she gave the full reveal of her chest, letting her breasts free as you reached forward to touch them and squeezed each, flicking both pretty nipples as they hardened underneath your fingertips.

“This was what you wanted. Now give me what I want. Give me that cock, want it to fill my little mouth.“

“I didn’t hear a please. That’s what good girls use.”

“But I’m not a good girl. So give me what I want, daddy.“

Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t resist Wonyoung anymore as she licked her lips in anticipation---how could you resist a beautiful girl on her knees, begging for your cock? When her pouty lips parted, ready to take in your cock again, you wasted no time and plunged deep down her throat, easily hitting the back of it in one swift motion.

Wonyoung immediately gagged on your length, but you didn’t allow her to adjust as you repeatedly bottomed out her throat before you pulled out, watching how her lips desperately chased your cock. “Daddy, no. Don’t hold back, I can take it. Use my mouth like a toy---please."

A request you would easily oblige, but first, you used your cock to slap her pretty face numerous times before turning her mouth into a helpless vessel for your pleasure. Indulging both of your desires, you began to slam your hips into her face with a harsh grip on her head, tangling your fingers up in her pretty locks.

“That’s it, princess, keep that fucking mouth open. You wanted daddy to fuck your throat like this, right? You wanted me to make you choke on this cock?”

She nodded best as she could, and you loved hearing her gag and struggle on your shaft, especially when her eyes begged for more as you kept the weight of your cock stuffed down Wonyoung’s throat, defiling such a pretty piece of artwork, a spoiled, rotten, defiant brat.

The entire day’s worth of frustrations channeled into your hips as you carried out your merciless facefuck, with every punishing thrust leaving your cock dripping wet with Wonyoung’s slippery drool. For once, you had peace---no complaining, no more whining, just loud gags and messy slurps filling the room.

If only Yujin could see you now---(she’d probably say you weren’t being rough enough).

Wonyoung’s divine mouth felt amazing before, but nowhere like this. It was as if her mouth was made to be used, a pretty plaything for your disposal, a sloppy wet hole designed for your pleasure that struggled to breathe. Her innocent, modelesque visuals that won the genetic lottery became sullied with saliva, ruining her perfectly applied makeup, and made its way down to her expensive necklace before sliding down her enticing cleavage.

You weren’t sure how you were ever intimidated by such a tall, leggy goddess, when all it took was a little praise and an offering between your legs for her to fold like a deck of cards. Even comical, you could call it, and you couldn’t imagine how needy she would get once you had your fingers in her cunt.

“My fucking god, Wonyoung,” you growled, palming her head tight, fucking her mouth into a frenzy of gags and spit that sent you deeper into an uncontained spiral of lust. “Your bratty fucking mouth feels too good.”

With her jaw overworked and tears streaming down her pale, flushed cheeks, Wonyoung could only respond by squeezing your thighs she held onto as you pounded into her throat relentlessly. No longer did she resemble the beautiful, innocent doll she presented herself to be, but instead a beautiful drooling mess of spit trying to fight through her gag reflex that kept your cock wet and warm.

After one more strong thrust from your hips, you held her gorgeous face down at your base, ensuring not a single inch of cock wasn’t held down her struggling throat balls deep. Your fingers dug into her scalp as her cute nose pressed against your abdomen, and you watched intently how her eyes watered more and more the longer you held her there, refusing to give a single ounce of mercy.

Wonyoung let out a gag so loud with her throat consuming your cock that you almost exploded then and there, but forced yourself to hold on. As much as you wanted, you couldn’t blow a load in her mouth without at least getting a chance to see that tight, impeccable body bare naked. Despite that, you pushed her firmly into your crotch just a little longer, making her mouth fill up with spit and her eyes water even more so until you pulled away.

When you withdrew your cock away from her wet, swollen lips, Wonyoung gasped for air as thin strings of saliva kept your shaft connected to her satisfied smile, tongue flicking at your cock with a whimper.

“Don’t stop on my account. I can take much more,” she said, those tear-filled eyes looking on with determination.

“Yeah, but---I can’t.” Wonyoung let out a giggle before grabbing your cock drenched with her saliva, and jerked you off, every pump threatening to send you past release.

“Are you going to paint my face then, daddy?” she asked, tempting fate by planting several kisses on the top of your cockhead.

“Not a chance, princess. My load belongs inside your cunt.”

Needing a moment, you stepped out of the pile of clothes underneath you and helped Wonyoung rise to her feet, taking her by the wrist to guide her towards the couch. Nothing about her resembled elegance any longer---disheveled hair, ruined makeup, and a face covered in saliva was the ideal formula to put her in her place. And all it took was a cock jammed down her throat.

“Are you going to fuck me now?” Wonyoung asked, still recuperating from having her throat fucked raw. She tried to find some comfort in your eyes, but all she saw was your stern expression, leaving her to wonder whether you would make her feel even more desperate than she already did.

“That all depends on you, princess. How about you finish taking that dress off for me?”

“Yes, daddy.” Again, Wonyoung was just concerned about following instructions at this point, and tugged that expensive dress down off her hips around her ankles, kicking it away. Your eyes watched every move she made with bated breath as she laid down on the couch, and every last inch of those slender legs that went on for days stretched across the cushions, leaving one final barricade between your desires.

“Your body is fucking perfect, princess,” you said, joining her on the couch with your eyes roaming a path of creamy skin from head to toe, and you took in the beauty of her flawless physique, unsure where was most deserving of your attention.

“Thank you, daddy. Do you want these off too?” Wonyoung asked as she slipped fingers into the waistband of her skimpy panties that matched her discarded bra.

“No, princess. That’s my job.”

Only that tiny piece of fabric separated you from seeing that tight naked body in its full splendor, but you were going to take your time savoring that reveal. Such an impeccable body like Wonyoung’s deserved to be worshiped from head to toe, so no better place to start than that as you grabbed one of her pristine feet and planted a kiss at the ball of it.

Spending as much time as you could without going overboard, you massaged her soft soles, then peppered them in kisses before you moved on to kiss her perfectly pedicured toes, each one painted with a black polish that contrasted the paleness of her skin.

“You’re kissing my feet?” Wonyoung asked, almost incredulous in her tone, but showed no signs of discomfort.

“Why wouldn’t I be? They’re very pretty. Just like the rest of you.”

“I…just didn’t know that was your thing. You know, I’ve had guys pay me to do this before. You’re much better at it.”

“Every part of you is my thing. I just wanna touch and taste your entire body.”

With a flushed glow returning back to her cheeks, you continued pressing kisses all over Wonyoung’s feet, and slid your lips into her delicate arches, not missing a spot. As you slowly worked your way up, you ran your hands up her creamy legs that could be considered a work of art on their own, and gave them the proper attention they deserved, kissing in between gentle caresses until you stopped just shy of her clothed center.

Wonyoung drew in a heavy breath as your fingers grazed over her panties, and whenever you pressed into her core, you could feel hints of wetness that she couldn’t hide. The gratification she craved wouldn’t be given easily however, and you planned on making her earn it as you gave her milky thighs a series of slow, deliberate kisses, making good on your word to taste all of her until they began to part like the gates of heaven, awaiting your touch.

You dragged out every moment, every chance to heighten Wonyoung’s arousal, which gave you all the time in the world to continue worshiping her body. One lick against the prominent damp spot at the center of her panties and she melted, begging for more when you licked a second and third time, the fabric darkening with every teasing lick.

“D-daddy,” Wonyoung gasped, but you ignored her and focused on tasting more sweet arousal through those thin panties, coming up with new ways to tease her while keeping a hand firmly stroking her soft thighs,

“Quiet, princess. Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“But I want you to taste me. Need your mouth on me, daddy. Don’t tease me, I hate it.”

Wonyoung bit onto her bottom lip, knowing she made a mistake by showing too much vulnerability, which meant you would prolong her pleasure even further. Still, she didn’t seem to care, even while the wetter her pretty panties became, the more inclined you were to build up that frustration more and more.

“Needy fucking brat.”

You would tease her all day if you had to.

“Shut up, just---please.” Who could have imagined that Wonyoung would ever plead this much, and all it took was teasing your fingers dangerously close to her pussy. As much as you enjoyed encouraging the needy look on her face, you much preferred to get rid of those useless panties, so after giving them a quick tug down the never-ending runaway that made up her legs, you rewarded yourself with the priceless treasure of Wonyoung’s gorgeous, wet little pussy.

Never had you seen something so beautiful, almost as much Wonyoung herself. The exposure of her clean shaven cunt transcended your expectations, well worth every second of waiting. Her thighs led a path to nirvana that your fingertips traveled up to her wet, glistening slit, daring to slip in but backing out at the last moment.

“Your pussy is so fucking pretty, princess.”

The flustered blush on her face had never looked so vivid when you traced her folds, collecting her slick on your fingertips and kept her under your control. Wonyoung still tried to chase your fingers, displaying her desperation with her hips, while her body begged for more attention.

“Daddy, please,” she murmured, but you ignored her pleas, continuing to torment, bringing her already escalated arousal levels sky high. “Need your fingers in me. Need you to touch me, need you to taste me.”

“What’s wrong, princess?” you asked in a mocking tone. “You don’t like when daddy teases you like this?”

Wonyoung shook her head furiously at your question, but all you did was stall further to create more anticipation, letting the quiet linger, which worked wonders to turn her into a mess of frustrated desire.

“Daddy. Daddy---daddy, please.” That was all you needed to finally succumb, and slid two fingers deep inside of her hot, wet depths. Wonyoung let out a loud gasp of ecstasy, digging her nails into the fabric of the couch cushions beneath her.

With just enough room for two fingers, you pumped into her enticing wet heat and wondered how you'd ever be able to fit your cock inside of her. A good problem to have.

“Daddy!” she cried out, arching her back higher than expected, and clenched around your hilted fingers.

“Look at you, princess. So fucking wet, and all it takes is a couple fingers inside your pretty cunt for you to stop being a brat?”

You weren’t putting in the full effort to stretch her out, but you could hear how wet Wonyoung was, your fingers doused in slick within seconds as you steadily pumped inside.

“Sh-shut up, I’m not that needy.”

“Oh, really? I guess I’ll stop then.” You couldn’t help but laugh when you withdrew your fingers from her wetness, hearing cries of desperation from at the loss of your fingers that you sucked clean. “Fuck, you taste good.”

“D-daddy, no---” she said, as you made a show of slurping her juices off your fingers. “Please put your fingers back inside me. It feels good. N-need more.”

“But I thought you weren’t needy?”

“Shut up, just---please, do what you were doing.”

You should have made Wonyoung beg more given she was so adept at it before you shoved your fingers back inside her warm cunt, but it was hard to waste time on that when all you wanted was that delicious taste of hers, straight from the tap.

In no time flat, you plunged back in knuckle-deep, but didn’t dare dream of adding a third, when two fingers became a struggle as is. She groaned as her slick folds swallowed you up and emitted those sweet sounds of bliss when your fingers curled after the apex of every thrust. You couldn’t wait any longer, and made your first lick up Wonyoung's wet slit while you kept two fingers buried in her, looking up every so often to see the pure ecstasy written across her face, as you inhaled her unforgettable aroma.

“Fuck, eat me, daddy, please eat my pussy. I need that tongue, just---” Wonyoung’s pleas bordered on demand at this point, yet you were happy to oblige her, and licked long stripes up and down her pussy, savoring the unforgettable sweet taste of her cunt as you cleaned up her wet folds,

Your mouth on her wet cunt acted like a pendulum that kept her back and forth between needy and domineering, whining with one series of licks, then grabbing the back of your head with the next. Either way, you didn’t really care which side she landed on, as long as you could keep the sweet, decadent taste on your lips and you didn’t let a single part of her pussy remain unexplored.

“God, you’re so fucking delicious,” you said as you grabbed hold of her thighs to draw her lithe body closer, then flicked against her clit before sealing your lips around it just long enough to build up pleasure, until you were right back where you started, making her eager hips frantically chase your tongue.

Wonyoung tasted like the most intoxicating mix of tangy sweetness you ever had, and just a single drop of her nectar was enough to bring out the ravenous animal inside you. Insatiable for more, your tongue drowned in her sweet juices, and you drank it all up while you wandered through her drenched folds, and made sure to not let a single spot go to waste.

Once more, you aimed for her swollen clit and latched your lips around it, using as much suction as your mouth would allow, with no plans on stopping until your appetite was appeased. While you devoured Wonyoung’s juicy pussy, her long fingers tugged at your hair, returning the favor from earlier, and urged your mouth to stay on her, to maintain such harsh suction that ignited more of her cute, unceasing moans.

“Fuck, you’re good at that, keep eating my pussy,” she said, with unending demand in her voice, and you welcomed the pain that came from fingers pulling at your hair, keeping you buried between her legs. Her hips began to gyrate on your face as you kept her taste lingering on your tongue, and every lick and slurp against her needy clit brought a new set of noises, while the satisfaction multiplied on her face.

Still, you couldn’t believe how good she tasted, and how cute she sounded when you ate her out. Wonyoung’s cries became louder, much sharper, but you refused to relent, suckling on her clit with such harshness that made her thighs quiver around your head as she desperately yearned for release. You swore Wonyoung might pull out strands of your hair, though you wouldn’t care when all you could hear was her ragged breathing and needy whines from her mouth as you did everything to bring her over that edge, making her squirm underneath you, hips bucking in a pattern that followed your tongue.

“D-daddy, fuck, daddy,” Wonyoung moaned out, and when you looked up with your lips secured around her clit, you could see her pant harder and harder as you tried to expedite the inevitable.

Nothing compared to how Wonyoung looked moments before climax. Your tongue swirled and flicked over the sensitive nub, then sealed around it one more time, harshly sucking on it to bring her to that sweet, sweet nirvana.

“Gonna cum, fuck, daddy, gonna cum on your face. I’m close, so close, please don’t stop, please…“

With another deep, satisfying slurp, you had Wonyoung right where you wanted, on a road to bliss, as her hips moved like she had lost all semblance of control. Her tight frame writhed in ecstasy, and you took advantage to plunge your fingers into her slick wetness once more, giving an extra dose of bliss that fanned the unquenchable flames in her core.

“I’m gonna---”

And with that, Wonyoung would get what she wanted, what she deserved, as you helped release all that built-up tension, a giant knot untangling. Her thighs squeezed your head in an almost suffocating manner, and her pretty hands yanked at bundles of hair, making sure she had never looked so unprincess-like than in that moment. You kept your lips wrapped around Wonyoung’s clit, watching her fall apart as her delectable juices spilled into your mouth, toes curling as she came hard, eyes shutting tight with your only focus giving her the best orgasm of her life.

Wonyoung rode out her high and then some, yet even when the intensity of her trembling thighs around your head died down, you had no inclination to stop, nor could you calm your insatiable need to keep your mouth on her pretty pussy for as long as you pleased.

You’d make a mental note to get the couch deep cleaned after this.

“Daddy, please, fuck---“

Making Wonyoung cum only once wouldn’t be sufficient, so you doubled down your efforts and suckled on her clit with more ferocity, putting your all into it so much that you didn’t even hear a door being opened, or the footsteps heading towards your way.

“I’m back home, oh.”

Neither of you gave the friendly figure that entered the living room a passing glance, too caught up in the moment of bliss, too involved with feasting on Wonyoung, drawing out more of that delicious nectar that already stained your lips and chin.

“Well, well, well. Looks like you two made up.” Yujin didn’t even flinch at the sight of clothes sprawled on the floor, or her two roommates naked on the couch with your tongue buried inside Wonyoung’s cunt.

“How was class?” you asked, your tone dripping with sarcasm. You weren’t actually seeking an answer, annoyed at having your focus broken before you returned your attention back to overstimulating Wonyoung, thrusting your fingers inside at the same rough pace that matched your tongue.

“Class? Oh right, my class. I really learned a lot,” Yujin said, still keeping up her facade. Now wasn’t the time to question her motives, and if anything, you’d thank her later for giving you a chance to rectify things. If not for her, you wouldn’t have your face covered in Wonyoung.

“You two look busy, so I’ll be in my room if you need me.” Yujin scurried off with that puppy-like smile, nothing but a momentary distraction while you got back to work.

That blissful state didn't take long to return to when Wonyoung squirmed underneath your face, moaning incoherently as you brought her to a second devastating orgasm with ease. Like previously, when your mouth locked on her clit, her toes curled once again, and you lapped up her delicious juices as your mouth filled back up with her rich taste. You refused to stop devouring Wonyoung’s pussy, not until she rode out her second high, and only then did you give your lips a break,

instead giving your fingers a workout, a routine of unyielding pleasure that there wasn’t any escape from.

“T-too much, daddy! P-please, fuck, fuck---I'm so sensitive, I can't," Wonyoung begged you to stop, but you disregarded every word she said, concentrating solely on getting her to cum on your fingers this time.

“I don’t care. You can, cum again on my fingers and then I’ll fuck you.” A rare silence from Wonyoung that you’d savor, listening to only her whimpering moans and the sounds of her drenched cunt as you kept her filled with your fingers. Finding her sweet spot with such precision, it took only a matter of moments until she fell apart again, shuddering even more uncontrollably.

“C-cumming again, daddy, fuck!”

Looking on with pride, you brought Wonyoung to orgasm a third time, with her back arched high, head thrown back, and a different picture painted every time she came that you’d never be able to get it out of your head. You loved hearing the cries of pleasure she made as your fingers pumped into her wetness, taking advantage of all that sensitivity that made her pussy ache, unable to handle the overstimulation, but still dripped in a way that absolutely ruined the couch cushions.

“Oh god, daddy, no more. Please, no more, I c-can’t, I-I,” she whimpered with tears in her eyes, body shaking as your fingers kept pounding into her wet walls. You pulled away once you were satisfied, licking her folds clean and fluttered over her clit for one extra moment. As tempting as it would be to finger her to a fourth orgasm, it was time for your cock to get some much needed attention.

Pulling yourself up into the cushions for a more comfortable position, you didn’t even bother cleaning your slick covered fingers, admiring the breathtaking view that was her wet entrance, ready to claim your ultimate prize.

Wonyoung looked like a doll with her legs spread wide, so vulnerable and exposed as her small chest heaved while she recovered from her relentless orgasms. Her gorgeous bare pussy glistened, every bit of supple, warm flesh more than ready for your cock, and the notion of stretching her out set off every little twitch in your shaft.

When you lined up with her inviting entrance, there was a much needed moment of hesitation as you let the anticipation build much more than necessary. But when you rubbed your cockhead between her wet pussy lips, any urge to tease disappeared, heightening your arousal to unbearable levels.

“Put it inside me. Need it, want you to fuck me so bad,” Wonyoung begged once more, and you didn’t even make her wait any longer. One look into her eyes later, and you eased inside her slick pussy, letting out a guttural groan that wasn’t even recognizable. Despite all your expectations, the initial thrusts into her warm cunt squeezed your cock harder than you were prepared for, nearly making you double over.

Your hands gripped her tiny little waist, watching for every reaction while you plunged into her suffocating cunt that felt unlike anything else before. Wonyoung was a popular girl for sure, so this wouldn’t be her first time, as evidenced by how many times you heard her getting railed in her bedroom that you lost track, but god, it certainly felt like it.

After a considerable amount of thrusts inside that dripping heat that enveloped your cock, Wonyoung stayed unbearably tight. Your efforts did little to stretch her little pussy, and it seemed impossible to pull your shaft from her cunt whenever you pumped inside her clinging walls. You took it as a challenge to bottom her out, though it resulted in an almost instant failure, met with a harsh resistance gripping your cock that only added to your determination.

“Princess, I can barely fit inside you,” you said, making more lustful moans escape Wonyoung’s lips while you tried your hardest to fill her with your whole length. You had her stunning face cupped like you were holding onto some type of rare artifact one might be scared to drop, staring at those pretty eyes, and her pretty plump lips that let out a constant flurry of moans and gasps whenever you pulled out and sank back inside her incredible warmth.

“More, daddy.”

“More what, princess?”

“Want more of you. You feel so good inside me already, want more of that cock,” she said, and it put a smile on your features to turn Wonyoung into such a needy, insatiable girl, no longer capable of being coy with her words. With every dip inside her smothering heat, you could sense more desperation, how much she yearned to be stretched to the maximum and feel your entire length in her.

“Fuck me, daddy. You know I’m not a good girl, so don’t fuck me like one.”

Your hips sped up with that request, and Wonyoung adjusted to your pace as her wet, warm walls became easier and easier to fill up, further opening her up. “You really are spoiled, aren’t you? A spoiled little brat that takes this cock so well.”

“Spoiled for your cock. So just shut up and fuck me. Make me feel you in my guts.”

While you kept her sparkling eyes in line of sight, you pressed your forehead against hers, seeing the lust building that raced through her body as you pumped into her hard and fast, giving the intense gratification she craved.

“Daddy---“ she gasped out, one little word from that pretty voice held so much power, so much weight. “Deeper, daddy. Fuck me, deeper. You feel so big, stretch my tight little pussy. Need you to fill me with every inch.”

And if that wasn’t encouragement enough, Wonyoung started to wrap her absurdly long legs around your waist to draw you in deeper, clutching onto one of your biceps, and her skin felt so utterly hot against yours. “Ruin me, daddy. Come on, I can take it. Fuck the brat out of me.”

Even at her most desperate moments, she still had some dominance left in her words, but you had no qualms not to listen. Because while Wonyoung might have looked like something precious and priceless, you certainly wouldn’t treat her as such. So little by little, your hips snapped back, until you were fucking her like you should have done from the start.

Making every thrust count, you were finally able to fuck Wonyoung balls deep, and took advantage of the slickness from every orgasm as your cock slid inside her effortlessly.

“Fuck, daddy, yes!“ Wonyoung cried out, her walls trembling whenever you bottomed her out, which only added to the urges to seize complete control of her body. You dove into her neck, and could hear her breathing deepen as you tasted the hot skin found there, before tracing the outline of her jaw, which made her even more consumed by your lustful touches.

Now that you could comfortably bury your cock to the hilt inside her warmth without struggle, Wonyoung felt so utterly wet and unimaginably tight, while all that built up arousal drowning your cock really paid off, because now you were fucking her as deep as you wanted, rearranging her guts like no tomorrow.

“You’re so fucking deep, keep that up. Want you to keep fucking me like this, please---don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop,” Wonyoung repeated, becoming more desperate by the syllable while you continued to feast on her body, eager to lick up all that porcelain skin. You couldn’t ignore your cravings and dragged your tongue across her sensitive neck, enjoying the way she moaned when you sucked on the delicate flesh before you moved to trace her earlobe, then nibbled on it, working her more into a frenzy.

“I need to taste all of you, princess," you said as you licked down her collarbone and down to the curve of her breasts, then climbed back up, lifted her slender arms, and buried your tongue in her armpit. You savored the taste as you greedily licked her up, tracing the surface to gather up Wonyoung’s delectable sweat, only rewarded with deeper moans while your tongue went wild. The salty taste of her skin tasted even better there, and to no surprise, it only added more to her arousal as you cleaned her up throughly, licking long stripes up one of your new favorite spots of her goddess-like body to devour.

“You’re so delicious, princess. I could just taste every inch of you for hours.”

Her cheeks reddened once more, and you were careful not to miss a solitary inch. Wonyoung kept her arms stretched up over her head, distracting you from the intense wetness and tightness of her cunt while you licked and sucked away at her flawless armpit, slobbering over it without respite.

Wonyoung gave no signs of anything but enjoyment of your tongue bath, even more so when you switched sides to devour her other smooth, milky underarm, as you peppered the flesh with little ticklish kisses, then gave an equal amount of wet, hungry licks. Truly a feast on their own, you lapped up the soft skin of her pits, nuzzling your nose in them to breathe in the unforgettable aroma. Your devotion to her body only made her squirm and whimper more, which only urged you to keep feasting on her delicious armpits, swapping your attention between the two, as you wanted as many different regions of her body on your tongue as possible.

Only after you thoroughly slathered both in saliva did you have your fill, and gave both one last lick while watching the aroused reaction in her eyes.

“D-daddy,” Wonyoung murmured, shaky and subdued, like she could barely pull the word out of her throat while your hips kept her pressed into the couch.

“Yes, princess?” you asked, planting rough kisses all over the untouched side of her neck that made her blush even deeper.

“Bedroom. Take me there.”

“Which one?”

“Don’t care.”

There was only one actual option, given that your bedroom involved a set of stairs and Wonyoung’s was just down the hall, so the choice was obvious. Although you’d love to see the look on Yujin’s face when you barged into her room, wanting to use her luxurious bed to plow her roommate on. Most likely, you’d be met with encouragement rather than being told to get out, but even then, you didn’t want to take the chance of disturbing her.

So down the hallway it was, catching Wonyoung off guard as you lifted her petite figure off the couch and into your arms as your cock remained buried inside. With her legs already locked around you tightly, her arms followed, wrapping around the back of your neck as you brought her towards the bedroom. Not wasting any chance to keep her bouncing on your shaft, you squeezed that tight little ass with every step, until you made it past the open bedroom door that neither of you bothered to fully close.

When you entered Wonyoung’s spacious bedroom, you had only one thing on your mind---the tight grip her slick pussy held around your cock. Now that all concerns had been set aside, you came close to knocking a framed poster off the wall with the force generated when you pinned her against it. But outside of moaning daddy uninterrupted, she became unable to concentrate on anything else but clinging to your body as you drilled her without zero intentions of slowing down.

Being careful wasn’t an option anymore. Wonyoung had you all wrapped up, with those long limbs coiled around you like a snake, but yet she was the prey. You kept her pinned up against the bedroom wall like a museum painting, and each thrust nailed her harder, keeping her begging for more, keeping her creaming on your cock as you rammed your length into the deepest parts of her cunt in succession, showing no mercy.

“Your pussy just feels incredible, princess,” you growled, as your fingers kneaded her asscheeks between each thrust, using the wall as a partner to help pound away and put this needy little princess in her place, fucking her harder than imaginable, knowing she could take it. Her back arched higher while every stroke intensified, and she used her moans to voice the insatiable hunger you could see in her eyes while you gave it your all.

“God, your cock---makes me feel so good, stretches me so well, it’s fucking perfect,” she said, as you shoved your hard cock into her without a care. You knew Wonyoung could take it, she could take every rough thrust, and she’d complain if you did anything less.

So your battering cock continued its assault on her warm little hole, pumping inside her while being squeezed so goddamn tight it drove you absolutely crazy, all part of the plan to ruin her perfect cunt the way she begged and begged for it.

"Daddy, fuck me, fuck me!" Wonyoung begged, but did nothing to silence herself, the repeated thuds her sweaty back made against the wall surely moving its way up the entire house. Without saying another word, you had her cumming on your cock, that slick honey dripping between her legs adding more fuel to your hips as you fucked her into a second, then a third orgasm, arms tightening while she held on for dear life, legs trembling underneath your fingers. “Oh my god, daddy.”

Like a delicate flower no more, Wonyoung endured your rough treatment with pride, and embraced the way you manhandled her body. With every pump of your cock into that engulfing wet heat, her cries of satisfaction grew deafeningly loud, and she became almost delirious from bliss, unable to keep her eyes open much longer. Not a single ounce of smugness remained left on her face, just pure desire and barrels of lust that increased the harder you fucked your aggression out, letting her ride through climax after climax until the harsh clenches became borderline unbearable to handle.

And you couldn’t help but be selfish, turning Wonyoung into an absolute mess, with no genuine need to use words anymore or anything but hot, needy kisses that did all the talking necessary as you absorbed yourself in the vigorous use of her body.

After every vigorous thrust, you could feel her hot breath in your ear, along with every whiny moan and desperate plea for you to fuck her even beyond your own limits. You poured your attention into how your cock felt whenever you speared her warm little cunt, and dug fingers deeper into the creamy flesh of her ass. But that wasn’t enough, as you spread her legs wider to take every inch of your cock deeper than you thought possible, all while every little gasp, moan, and repetitive thump of her back crashing against the wall became an intricate melody in your ears.

“Princess---“ you said, your voice lowering into nothing but a growl and drew another deep moan from Wonyoung’s lips following one more strong impale, then pulled her away from the wall as you held her up in the air, fucking her relentlessly while you enjoyed the overpowering smack of flesh on flesh by pounding into her desperate cunt.

“Need to fucking cum in you soon. Gonna fill your pretty little pussy all the way up.”

Waiting for a response wasn’t something you bothered with when you approached the side of Wonyoung’s enormous canopy bed with its pulled back curtains and abundant pillows, only fucking her petite body harder on your thick cock to elicit out more cries of nonstop pleasure.

From the start, the plan was always to defile her doll-like body, and while the idea of pounding her on the carpet with a fistful of hair crossed your mind---you’d have to tear your cock away for just a moment---an impossible task.

Overindulgent was the only thing that could describe how you were fucking Wonyoung, and even more overindulgent was how much she kept creaming on your cock. But you had no trouble keeping the motions uninterrupted, nor did you have any trouble supporting her weight, remaining face to face to kiss her lips as many times as you chose to until you laid her down onto the soft mattress in a not-so-gentle manner.

“W-wait,” Wonyoung said, before words turned back into moans once more. “You can cum inside me, but not here. Don’t ruin the sheets.”

You could barely mutter out a chuckle. “You can buy more, princess.”

“But I like thes---“

You didn’t allow any further objections. Instead, with your knees locked into the mattress, you drove Wonyoung’s legs up into the air until they neared both shoulders, feet left dangling, and folded her up like a chair, eager to sink in at a completely new intense angle. “You’re gonna need a whole new bed when I’m done with you.”

Now that you achieved the deepest penetration possible, you were testing the springs of her mattress without even giving a chance for her heart to beat, bottoming Wonyoung out into new depths never felt before. All that elegance shattered, left with nothing but the obscene view of those beautiful legs spread open so fucking wide you couldn’t believe this was the same proper girl you shared a roof with for months. Restraint lost every ounce of meaning when you kept up the relentless plunges into Wonyoung’s tight, tight cunt, pounding her into the mattress hard enough to make the creaking bed frame think twice about its existence.

“Daddy!” Wonyoung cried out, loud enough to echo throughout the entire house, no longer giving a damn about the soon-to-be-ruined sheets, just like that wet hot pussy that your cock pistoned into and demanded more unearthed pleasure from.

Taking full advantage of putting Wonyoung into this new position, you made a slight adjustment, lifted yourself into a squat in order to gain more leverage, then planted both feet on her silk sheets, holding her little waist with a bruising grip while fucking her so deep you were liable to explode at any second.

“God, princess, you take daddy’s cock so well. Such a good little fuckdoll, letting me use you, letting me destroy your warm little hole like this. Gonna fill you up so much, fuck!” You couldn’t help but let out loud, guttural groans at how good Wonyoung’s dripping pussy felt, throbbing wildly at how goddamn tight she clenched around your cock that ached for release.

“You feel so good inside me, so, so good, daddy. Can’t wait for you to cum in me. It’s going to feel so good, so warm. Just pump that hot load into my wet little pussy. Give me all your cum, give it all to me. Please, daddy---I need it right fucking now.”

Your heavy balls slapped against her puckered hole as you brutally impaled her pussy, and you could feel every little tremble in her legs, every last wet squelch as you kept Wonyoung pinned to the creaking mattress, making her desperate for one more greedy orgasm even before you even achieved your first.

“Fuck, fuck, princess, your pussy is just too good. You’re gonna make me cum so hard. Need to fucking breed you, need to just fuck my thick load into your womb and you’re gonna take it all, princess.”

“Yes, daddy, please! Fuck me, use me until you cum. Need your balls drained inside me, need you to explode.”

Scrambling for anything within reach, Wonyoung frantically dug her nails into her sheets, but you just kept plowing her into the mattress for as long as your body would allow, hitting her guts every single time with surgical precision. Her slick pussy lips gripped with violent, almost painful clenches, and the lewd expression etched on her face helped the inevitable arrive faster than expected.

Only a matter of time before you filled that perfect, warm little hole you mercilessly slammed your cock into, letting out more ragged breaths by the second. You kept your weight shifted to easily balance on the balls of your feet, and just stared at the deep pools of lust in Wonyoung’s eyes while she took it all, legs spread perfectly for breeding, anticipating your load with endless amounts of lust, begging, and cries for more.

“Daddy, breed me. Breed me like you breed Yujin. Empty those balls in me, fill me up. Daddy, please---just use me to dump your cum in, wanna feel it all in my pussy, please.”

The coils of her mattress screamed for relief, and the smack of your thrusts became deafening, mirroring the cries that escaped Wonyoung's mouth. No longer did you even bother to look forward, and instead guided your focus on how your cock pulverized Wonyoung’s insides, every strong clench a shove towards the finish line that she already had a rolling start towards. Your worn out hips were on fire, but it paled in comparison to the flames in your core, only able to be doused in one matter---and Wonyoung did just that when her wrecked cunt squeezed your cock in just the right way.

You throbbed inside Wonyoung like you hadn’t been drained in a month. With your entire length buried to the hilt and your balls firmly flush against her ass, you shared that final moment of relief, spilling cum into her pussy like you never had anyone else. Thick, hot spurts overflowed her cunt, setting off violent twitches, satisfied groans, and gasps of relief from your lips when you emptied every last drop into Wonyoung.

“Daddy, it feels so good. Empty it all, daddy, empty that cum inside me. It’s so warm, so thick, I can feel it dripping out of me, don’t stop…”

The tired demands from Wonyoung’s lips had you throbbing even more as you drove your creamy load deeper inside her, thrusting with your heavy hips with whatever energy left while you rode out the best orgasm of your life.

Nothing could compare to such bliss in its sweetest, purest, rawest form. Nor could anything compare to the satisfied smile Wonyoung gave when you pulled out, and your seed spilled down her sweaty thighs, making one more final attempt to ruin her sheets.

“No, daddy,” she whispered, making exhausted gasps while you took her small face in your hands, without enough energy to do anything but stare at the blissed out look in her eyes. When you collapsed, Wonyoung pivoted her body to the side, then grabbed your cock and guided it back inside her intense heat. “Keep it in me. Isn’t this what Yujin likes?”

You twitched the moment you felt that warmth wrapped around your shaft again, but embraced her naked body, resting your head against her bare shoulder. Trying not to make any sudden movements proved difficult.

“There we go, daddy. Stay inside me, just like this.”

“Didn’t you have to study?” you asked, remembering the thread that unraveled and started all this.

“What did I say? Stay inside me.”

“Fine, but don’t move too much. It’s still sensitive.”

Without even looking, you could see the smirk on Wonyoung’s lips as she did the opposite and rolled her hips, clenching around your cock to keep you from softening.

“Wonyoung---“ you hissed, and harshly dug your fingers into her hips to keep her from moving. “Stay. Still.”

“Or what? You’ll fuck my brains out again? Pump another thick load in me?”

“You think this is going to happen more than once? Not a chance, princess. I’m only staying here to stop that bratty mouth from talking.”

“You’re a bad liar, daddy. I know you love how my pussy keeps your cock all nice and warm. You’re addicted to it already. I bet you won’t even go back to Yujin anymore.”

“I think I fucked you a little too hard. Maybe knocked a few brain cells out.”

“Don’t worry, daddy. I won’t say a word. I’ll keep it our little secret that you like my pussy better.”

“Shut---up. Next time I fuck you it’s going up your ass.”

“Is that a promise? I’ve never done that before. But your cock is so big, I don’t even think it’ll fit there…”

“Then I’ll make it fit.”

And with that, Wonyoung grabbed your arm to swing it around her waist, finally letting you enjoy the sweet sounds of silence.

At least for a little bit.

---------------------------

A/N: I dedicate my first Wonyoung fic to the great, amazing, wonderful @friskyriskywhisky . Didn't plan on taking so long to put out a new fic, nor did I plan on it being absurdly long. My longest fic to date, but I put a lot of heart into this and hopefully it shows.

During the course of these few months I've reached 12k followers which is still wild to me after all this time, so thanks to everyone who follows and reads, especially if you've been there since the beginning 💞💞

This was supposed to be out on the 31st for Wony day but I'm impatient, so enjoy this early gift. I've really enjoyed writing this version of Wonyoung and plan to do more with her.