#the hot mess express returns

[toa-arania]

Watch Out For The Clown

1: Don't worry about an actual clown, this is another Val post 2: I promise that makes sense in context

It's been a while since I've done one of these so for everyone new, Valerie Wester is a character I play in a Monsterhearts game. She is a Witch, and an absolute force of nature. Big proponent of Womens' Wrongs. I've posted about three of her Category 5 Woman Moments before (here, here, and here), all in relation to an OC tournament called the Homemade Girlboss Battle which she very nearly won (2nd place if I'm remembering the numbers right). At the time, the game was on pause, and has been over summer and most of autumn because two players dropped out and we needed to find a new one.

Enter the Clown.

Monday. Two members of the gang have fucked off for various reasons (one went to go searching for their missing sister and the other got sent to superhell by his evil uncle). We are down to Val (Witch), Mei (Ghost), Levi (Werewolf), and Darcy (Hollow (soulless husk with an identity crisis)). We come into school, Val and Levi flagrantly ignoring the buddy system as always, and who should arrive but our new classmate: Aluber

It is important context that despite our gang being a fairly queer group (even though our actual trans man did just fuck off to go looking for his sister) the town we live in, Springdale, is fairly backwater. So none of us are that surprised when a whole-ass clown turns up to class, announces his intentions to be everyone's friends, and immediately gets called a faggot. We are surprised when he flat-out does not know what that means. Now Val is the type who, like many tumblr users, thinks of faggot as a compliment, and decides that it is absolutely a good idea to teach Aluber this too. He ends up sitting with us at lunch.

We quickly discover that Aluber is a Fae (because of Levi's Werewolf senses), and that it is probably for the best that he ended up with our group of supernatural misfits instead of getting dragged into Heather's Mind-Control Clusterfuck. Now because he's a Fae, that means he has a connection with an entity called the Fae King, or as Aluber calls him, Big Uncle. Above-table we call him Buncle now. It is also important to note that one of Val's many, many schemes is to set up a deal with the Fae King at some point to be able to tap into Fae magic. Buncle calls Aluber to the Fae domain of the forest, and gives him a big-ass tome of magic spells, and tells him to "not let anyone else have it". This choice of words will become important later.

Events progress as normal for this group. Val accidentally turns Darcy into a vessel for her dead sister's soul, but that's a story for another post. Then, on Tuesday, Mei gets a coded note. This is not unusual. Mei has been getting coded notes for a while that Val has been helping her to study due to their shared investigation into the Murder Basement, which is related to the Psychic Doublebird Reacharound.

This note says "Watch Out For The Clown".

We proceed with caution. However.

Since our characters are teenagers (a mix of 16-17 iirc) we do teenager things. And that includes Truth or Dare. Also drinking. Val is mixing the drinks, and she does not put any thought into strength at all. This will come back to bite her in the ass. During Truth or Dare, her first dare is to cast the Migraine Spell on herself, which is what she calls the spell Ring of Lies, a spell that causes painful tinnitus in people who try to lie. Big lies can even cause people to pass out. Val, as a pathological liar, does not enjoy being under the influence of this spell. The game proceeds, and the details are not important immediately because I will be writing about that clusterfuck another time, but it is important that by the end of this evening Val has learnt about Aluber's Fae Spellbook, and she wants to have it. However, she has been told that Buncle will get stabby if Aluber gives the book to people. Val begins to plan.

Val wakes up with a hangover in the morning.

The plan is simple: Convince Aluber that as someone with more magical knowledge than him, she can help teach him how to use the book's magic.

This does not go according to plan.

Wednesday. Val has been even more short-tempered than usual all day due to her actual migraine and people being irritating, so when she asks Aluber about the book and he says no because he doesn't trust her and is scared of her (rightfully so to be fair), she does not take it well. Then, Aluber makes the mistake of turning to Mei and Levi and saying "would you two like to come and look at the book?". Val responds predictably by magically ripping open every blood vessel in Aluber's nose and giving him probably the worst nosebleed anyone present has ever seen. She and Levi go to have a Chat about her losing her cool, but the specifics are for another time. This is already going to be my longest Val Post.

During a separate incident, Val learns that one of the spells in Aluber's book is an Antimagic Field. She and Wesley (an NPC Witch who is Val's "friend") decide that they need to kill this fucking Clown. They don't stick with this for long as the Gang Comes Up With A Plan, so Val instead starts scheming how to get around an Antimagic Field.

The idea is simple: In endocytosis, the process by which cells absorb large things, the cell membrane bends inwars and splits off into a bubble called a vesicle, which contains only the thing it absorbed and keeps it separate from the rest of the cell's contents. Val will simply apply this principle to the field. All she needs to do is examine the theory and work out how to manipulate the field's boundaries.

The plan is simple: """Apologise""" to Aluber, talk about how people intentionally keeping things from her takes up her whole head until it's resolved to the point of losing sleep, Promise to be friends, and as a gesture of goodwill offer to teach him more about his spells, and even only look at the book through his eyes using magic so he can control what she sees (and so she can understand the book's contents but she doesn't need to mention that).

Then a few people make some rather daft choices.

Saturday. For petty reasons (she was watching him sleep), Wesley has hexed Mei. Instead of going to Val, who she knows could dispel it in a heartbeat, she goes to Aluber, who has an untested antimagic spell that he has never attempted before. So he tries it. As it turns out, when you cast Antimagic spells on a Ghost, it turns them back into a dying corpse. So now Mei is on the floor bleeding out and having ptsd flashbacks. They call Val.

Val gets there (and brings Levi), and very quickly realises that because Aluber has not let her look at any of the spell theory, she has no idea how to dispel this. The spell manifests as a chain, so Levi tries to pull it off, breaking Mei's ankle in the process, and it magnets back on. We are all panicking. I am going to kill this fucking Clown. And then the spell ends and Mei is fine.

Val immediately rips into Aluber because that was an objectively stupid thing to do. She skips straight past any kind of apology, and tells him that he cannot just try shit unless he understands how it works (note: Val is constantly trying shit without entirely understanding how it works, but none of the gang know enough about magic to point that out). She convinces him to let her study the theory before he tries any more of these spells so she can explain to him how it works.

All according to keikaku.

Aluber goes upstairs to where he was keeping the book, and once he's retrieved it from its hiding place Val casts Watching on him to look through his eyes. She starts reading the theory behind the Antimagic Field. Instead of waiting for her to be done, Aluber begins casting it in a small area on the ground. This is when Val realises that it is not an antimagic field. It is an antimagic pulse. She only just manages to get out of Aluber's head in time to warn Levi and Mei, who fucking book it, but Val herself does not have time to move before she is hit by the blast.

Fun fact about magic in this setting. Different types of magic do not mix well. Fae magic and Witch magic are quite close to each other, and interact reasonably well, magic from the Dark Powers does its own shit, and Celestial magic tends to repel other kinds of magic. The character who got sent to Superhell, Seraph, had a protective field that blocked Val's magic and always made her feel a bit ill, so she already knew that losing her connection to magic fucks with her badly. In the words of the GM, "it feels like one of your organs has been taken out". Val fully throws up and passes out, and her earring of mind shielding is destroyed. Meanwhile, all of Aluber's Faery Contracts are nullified, and Mei is only just able to get out of range of being turned back into a Super Dead Corpse. Levi is fine.

Val wakes up, ready to actually fucking murder Aluber, and we all hear a screeching in our minds as the Fae King yoinks Aluber into the forest. As it turns out, "Do not give anyone this book" apparently included "Do not let anyone read this book". The book has now been confiscated. Aluber was not able to memorise the spell, but because Val read through the theory, she now does remember it, and as the only one with the knowledge of how to use it she plans to hold it as a very important bargaining chip.

The moral of the story: one day, I am going to kill this fucking Clown. Just not yet, because he keeps making himself useful for things.

[lale-txt]

❥ 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 ↳ 𝐰/ 𝐀𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐮, 𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮, 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐨, 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐦𝐚, 𝐎𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚, 𝐈𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐳𝐮𝐦𝐢 & 𝐒𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐬𝐚

a/n: reader is gn! i started drafting those during one of the first sticky hot summer nights of the year, then forgot about it until this came over me once again like a fever, and now here we are. i love writing drabbles because they force you to really think about the chars, how you perceive them and how to nail their unique personalities in 200 words or less. anyway, this is my first time writing for HQ after the brainworms got me down bad and i had lots of fun! hope you'll enjoy them too ♡

word count: 1.3k

𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐔 whines when you have the audacity to kick him back towards his end of the couch, catching your ankle and pulling you towards him in return, stubbornly ignoring your protests. Too hot to cuddle, my ass, he pouts, genuinely offended that you’d even consider that; when the only time Atsumu ever feels a sense of calm is when part of you touches him. Your hand playing with the shaved hair in the back of his neck, your leg hooked over his hipbone as you sprawl out in bed together, hell, even your icy cold feet shoved underneath his butt during winter. Something was missing when he couldn’t have your proximity. Yer so needy, Tsumu. So what if he was? He pulls you into his lap, face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, hands tightening around your waist. His breath fanning over your skin, hot and cool against it. Atsumu takes, he demands, but with you he is pleading, silent for once. Just a little longer–dreaming, breathing you in, kissing till he feels you smiling against his lips.

𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔 wears his hair shorter now, back at its natural dark color, too. You helped him buzz it off during one of those sticky summer nights. Both of you in nothing but your underwear, Osamu sitting on the edge of the bathtub in your cramped bathroom. One hand of yours holding a razor and the other clamped over your mouth because you horribly messed up a setting and now he had a funny little edge in his hair, throwing you both in a laughing fit. It was your first summer together and Osamu couldn’t help but hope that there would be many more like this to come, with your bodies orbiting each other, unable to keep your hands off despite the heat and the sweat, the air heavy and electric and yet so light whenever he hears you laugh. Nothing beats the feeling of lifting you up on the kitchen counter and your eyes lingering on his hands, shaping a midnight snack for the both of you, getting drunk on stolen glances and kisses. There’s many metaphors for food and love and right now, Osamu can taste them all on the tip of your tongue.

𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐎 hasn’t even kicked his shoes off at the entrance yet and is already loosening his tie, before slender fingers work down button for button on his shirt. He hears you laugh about his demeanor from the other end of the hallway. How lucky, he thinks to himself. To have someone waiting for him at home, making even long work days during the most miserable summer heat bearable. His shirt has barely hit the floor and he’s already on you, caging you in with his arms and covering every inch of your skin he can reach in kisses, despite your giggling and feigned huffing over how sticky he is, sending him to shower first (as if you wouldn’t come right after him). Kuroo purrs when your hands tangle in his hair. In the end you always pull him back towards your lips again, swallowing every little quip and taunt like candy, sweet and syrupy in your mouth. It reminds him how he fell in love with you many summers ago, his heart ablaze ever since.

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐀 is glued to the fan at this point. He even switched gaming from his desktop set-up to a handheld console, reluctantly admitting that his old house would heat up even more with his computer running at full blast. His expression really says it all when you approach him, silently pleading for cuddles. Kenma just can’t understand how anyone would seek someone else’s body heat when the sun outside was already doing a pretty good job in trying to end him. Still, he isn’t immune to your charms, never was (one time he mumbled something about your stats being way too high and how everything changed once he received a love buff of yours). When you hold out a popsicle as a means of bribery and blink at him with those damn soft eyes of yours, Kenma pauses his game and holds out his arms. He hums into the kiss you give him before sitting down in his lap, your lips tasting like ice cream and summer love. He rests his chin on your shoulder, face nuzzled against your neck, before he continues his game, letting you feed him the sweet cold treat. Summer might have become a little more bearable with you in his life–though he was already looking forward to many winters under the kotatsu with you. 

𝐎𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀 is squishing your cheeks together, his thumb brushing over the corner of your mouth. Collecting evidence, but also wanting to feel your tongue poke out slightly against it, cheeky as ever. Just how could you eat the last ice cream in the freezer without him? He lets out an exaggerated huff, feigned indignation, both of you knowing he can never keep this up for too long–not when it comes to you. Oikawa leans down to kiss you, your face still in a tight grip, tasting the remains of the ice cream on your lips, as if you weren’t sweet enough already. Maybe he can be bribed for another kiss when you offer a midnight walk to the 7/11 down the street, promising to pay for a cool sweet treat to make it up to him. He had already forgotten what he was mad about the moment you leaned into the kiss, but he’ll never say no to a chance to hold your hand, even if it’s sticky with leftover ice cream and the summer heat. To Oikawa, love is stored in the mundane things, even if his love for you is anything but that.

𝐈𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐈 is standing in the kitchen past midnight, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers while he roams the freezer for anything to help him cool down; even a pack of frozen peas would do. He feels a pang of guilt for having peeled away from you, your form pressed so tightly against him in his sleep, it almost gave him a heat stroke–for more reason than one. Everything is sticky and airless and Iwaizumi is sure that if he would have glanced at you even a minute longer, his heart might have just given out on him. All this love he holds for you, burning him up from the inside, like a fever. He lets out a long exhale when he presses an ice bag against the back of his neck, but it’s not that what causes a shiver down his spine; it’s two arms sneaking around his waist from behind, your sleepy voice mumbling out his name, your body melting into his again. The first kiss pressed on the side of your neck is an apology, the second one a promise. The third–to devour you.

𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐀 grumbles something about you being too sticky and sweaty, making a weak attempt to shove you back to your side of the bed, only to pull you back by your hips when you actually do leave some room between you. He can’t help it, you fit so perfectly in the curve of his body, your back pressed against his chest, one of his knees nudged between your legs, all tangled up. It’s the perfect position to plant kisses on the back of your neck, too. Kiyoomi loathes those hot summer nights in the concrete city. He’d rather be somewhere else with you, somewhere to breathe more easily through this heat. Maybe you should move to the countryside, yes. A small house with lots of green surrounding it. Less people and noise, just you and him. Yeah, he would like that. He kisses the back of your neck once more and takes a slow, deep inhale of your sweet scent, before sleep finally crawls upon him again. For now he’ll endure this heat, anything, as long as he can hold you in his arms like this–and have a cold shower with you in the morning, maybe.

[kaiser1ns]

#. IT SUITS YOU . . . !

featuring 𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 ıllı. umemiya hajime, takiishi chika togame jo, kaji ren, suo hayato, kiryu mitsuki, sakura haruka, endo yamato

fluff. he thought there was no other way to make him love you more until he saw you in his clothes.

UMEMIYA HAJIME

It was unbearably hot outside, so you and Umemiya decided to spend the day indoors, lounging on the couch and eating ice cream while watching some random show on Netflix. You thank the people who decided to create the air conditioning, and the ice cream felt heavenly against your tongue.

Halfway through the second episode, you managed to get a dollop of ice cream on your shirt. "Ugh, I'll be right back," you said, heading to the bedroom to change.

You rummaged through your drawers but couldn't find anything, then you stopped at a very interesting design as you grabbed one of Umemiya's shirts from the closet. It was soft and smelled like him, instantly making you feel cozy.

When you returned to the living room, you saw Umemiya's eyes widen and his jaw drop. In his shock, he accidentally let go of his ice cream, which fell to the ground with a splat.

"Ume, what was that for?" you asked, grabbing a wipe to clean up the mess.

It was strangely quiet, and when you looked up, you saw him staring at you with heart eyes, a blush spreading across his cheeks, and a huge, adoring smile on his face. His hand was clutching his chest dramatically.

"PUMPKIN, YOU ARE SO CUTE!" he screamed, fangirling, waving his imaginary tail like a little puppy. The sight was absolutely adorable. He started to pull off his own t-shirt, "PLEASE PUT THIS ONE!" You laughed and stopped him, "Another time, baby."

Days later, you were doing the laundry and noticed most of the clothes in the basket were Umemiya's. Little did you know, he had secretly left most of his shirts in your wardrobe during his sleepovers. But that was a secret, a sweet gesture of his love that you didn't need to know about.

TAKIISHI CHIKA

You woke up early on a lazy Sunday morning, the sun just beginning to filter through the curtains as you stroll into the kitchen, trying to find something to eat while dressed in your boyfriend's shirt that somehow became your pajama. The faint scent of his cologne that still lingers on was very comforting and calming, it made you more lovesick.

Takiishi, still half-asleep, shuffles into the kitchen, wondering why did you left. His hair is tousled and his eyes are still heavy with sleep, but when he sees you standing by the counter in his shirt ... he doesn't say anything per usual, as he wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder. It's his shirt, the one you brought, not Endo. His warmth envelops you, and you can feel his steady heartbeat against your back. Despite just waking up, he finds peace, feeling so comfortable that he can drift back to sleep.

"You'd make a good teddy bear," you tease gently, turning in his embrace to face him. His expression is as calm as ever, but you can't help but notice the small smile that he tried to hide. "My pillow disappeared," he murmurs, his voice still husky with sleep. Well, of course, you are his personal pillow and blanket, but you didn't mind that at all.

With a groan, you realize you'll have to bring him back to bed. Gently, you guide him out of the kitchen, his arms still loosely around you playing with the shirt, as you lead him down the hallway. He leans on you heavily, his steps slow and relaxed, completely trusting you to guide him to where he can rest again.

As you reach the bedroom, he stirs slightly, murmuring a soft thank you against your neck. You can't help but smile at his sleepy self, carefully helping him settle into bed. He snuggles under the covers, pulling you close so you're curled up against his chest and he will always be close to you either with his arms around your body or with his shirt on you.

TOGAME JO

You really wanted to go to the store, and so you did, grabbing the first jacket you saw on your way out. It was a bit oversized, and you didn't think much about it. When you returned home, you were met with a scene of mild chaos. Your boyfriend, Togame Jo, had turned the house upside down.

"Jo, what are you doing?" you asked, taking off your shoes and looking at the scattered items.

"I can't find my Shishitoren jacke—" He paused mid-sentence, turning to look at you. There you were, standing in the doorway, wearing the very jacket he was searching for. A soft smile spread across his face. "It looks good on you, doll."

Realization dawned on you. You had grabbed his jacket by mistake. Well, you wouldn't lie—you did look pretty good in it. "I'm sorry, I'll take it off," you said, starting to remove it. Togame made a slow, dismissive gesture with his hand. "No, no. Keep it on."

"But don't you need it right now?" you asked, puzzled. "Won't Choji complain because—"

He cut you off with a teasing grin, "They already know who I am. Wear it so they know who that jacket belongs to."

Your heart fluttered at his words. Snuggling into the jacket, you smiled back at him, feeling a warm sense of belonging. Togame stepped closer, wrapping an arm around you.

"Besides," he whispered, "you make it look way better than I ever could."

KAJI REN

Kaji seemed to like hoodies, no he loved hoodies. And he especially loved when you wore them. The sight of you, cozy and snug in his oversized clothing, always made him somehow melt. But now, as he stood shivering at the bus stop, he started to regret his choice of giving you his favorite one. After all, it was cold, and you had forgotten to bring something warmer, leaving him only in his shirt.

"I'm sorry, Ren," you said softly, guilty as you glanced at him. Your boyfriend stood there, his arms wrapped around himself, his breath visible in the chilly air. The bus wouldn’t be here for another 30 minutes, and you could see he was freezing.

He wasn’t that mad, just a little bit, a tiny little bit. But he preferred you to be warm and safe, so when boyfriend duty called, he answered. With a small sigh, you snuggled closer to him, wrapping your arms around his torso, hoping the soft material of the hoodie would warm him up. His initial shiver softened as he felt your embrace, and he glanced down at you.

"Please don't be mad at me," you pleaded, looking up at him with those big, apologetic eyes.

"I am not," he replied, shaking his head. "Just next time, wear one of my hoodies or put something with sleeves," he sounded calm, well his other senses didn't work that well when freezing, as you hummed in response, pressing yourself closer to him as a way to share whatever warmth you could muster.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the bus arrived. As you both climbed aboard and found a seat. The heater was a blessing, and you leaned into Kaji, feeling him gradually warm up. He wasn’t mad, but you noticed the sniffles starting the next morning.

Now, as he lays on the couch, wrapped in blankets and surrounded by tissues, you felt even more guilty. Kaji has come down with a cold, and you are taking care of him. You brought him hot tea, fluffed his pillows, and made sure he had everything he needed.

"Ren, I'm so sorry," you said again, placing a hand on his forehead to check his temperature. He looked up at you, his eyes a bit glassy but still filled with affection. And you knew that he would rather be sick than have you catch a cold.

SUO HAYATO

As you finish the final touches in front of the mirror, you can't help but feel a bit nervous. The smooth white silk of the changshan glides against your skin, as you admire how the elegant fabric hugs your form, the intricate patterns catching the light just so. Suo's appreciation for Chinese-styled fashion has always intrigued you, and today, you decided to surprise him by matching his style.

A quick glance at your phone reminds you that Suo is waiting outside, though he texted you saying he’d be there for a while, giving you more time to get ready. With a deep breath, you grab your bag and head out the door.

Stepping outside, you spot him immediately. Your boyfriend stands there, looking effortlessly handsome as always in his own changshan, and a smile playing on his lips. But as his eyes land on you, his expression shifts to one of pleasant surprise.

"Y/N?" he calls out, the amusement and admiration can be heard and seen as he takes a few steps closer, his gaze never leaving you. "Is that my changshan?"

You nod, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. "I wanted to match with you today. Do you like it?" He chuckles, the sound warm and teasing. "Like it? You look amazing. But I must say, you pull it off better than I do."

"I just wanted to try it out. You always look so good in these, and I thought it might be fun." Suo reaches out, gently adjusting a strand of hair that had fallen out of place, his touch is warm, "Well, you certainly succeeded. But now I’m worried everyone will be looking at you instead of me."

You roll your eyes, knowing he's just teasing. "Oh, please. You know you always steal the spotlight." He grins, his hand holding yours as you start to walk together. "Maybe so, but today, you’re the star. I’m really happy you did this, Y/N. It means a lot."

The honesty in his voice makes your heart flutter. "I just wanted to show you how much I appreciate you. And maybe… steal some of your fashion secrets."

Suo chuckles, squeezing your hand. "Anytime, Y/N. You know, we could make this a regular thing. Matching outfits and all."

You smile, the idea sounding more and more appealing, "So I will see you wearing Hello Kitty pajama's?" and as you think about how cute he will look in pink pjs while you apply a face mask and watch movies, it makes your heart melt, and he just laughs softly. "Who am I to deny you?"

KIRYU MITSUKI for my pookie @heartkaji

You’ve borrowed his shirt for the day, its soft fabric with vibrant pastel colors and shapes, a comforting reminder of him, paired with your pink skirt and cute Converse sneakers. The combination makes you feel especially adorable, and you notice the admiring glances from your boyfriend who undoubtedly thinks the same.

Kiryu’s been quiet, his phone in hand more than usual. You’ve caught glimpses of him smiling subtly at the screen, making you assume he’s checking something interesting. Perhaps a new game or a video that caught his eye.

You find a cozy bench and settle down together, your head finding its familiar spot on his shoulder. The day has been perfect, and you close your eyes for a moment, to get a rest from all the walking. When you open them, you notice his phone gallery is open, the screen filled with so many photos.

You tilted your head for a better look. The gallery is full of pictures of you—captured candidly throughout the day. These aren’t just any blurry photos; they look professionally taken, each one perfectly framed and lit. Your heart skips a beat as you realize Kiryu’s secret. Blushing, you nudge him playfully.

"Why didn’t you tell me?”

He looks at you with that calm, gentle cat like smile that always makes your heart melt. “I didn’t want your facial expression to be forced for the picture only.”

His words make your cheeks flush even more. You feel an overwhelming rush of affection for this boy who loves you so deeply, capturing your natural moments with such care. Leaning up, you press a soft kiss to his cheek.

“You’re amazing, you know that?”

Kiryu’s smile widens just a bit, and he pulls you closer. “And you’re beautiful. Wear my clothes more often, they suit you.”

ENDO YAMATO

Endo often went shopping with you, spoiling you with many bags that would pile up during your hangouts. You appreciated his generosity, but sometimes, the sheer number of bags was overwhelming.

Today, home alone, you found yourself rifling through Endo's closet. You slipped into one of his oversized shirts and a pair of his jeans, the latter needing a makeshift belt to stay up. To complete the look, you even drew some lines on your arms to replicate his intricate sleeve tattoos. Standing in front of the mirror, you struck a pose and imitated his voice, "I am Endo Yamato and I'm going to tell you some philosophy shit I don't understand myself." You couldn't help but giggle at your own 'cosplay'' if you can even call it one.

Unbeknownst to you, Endo had come home. He stepped into the room whistling, his phone held up and recording. You froze, eyes wide as you locked gazes with him. He was grinning ear to ear, clearly entertained, while you felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you.

Before you could react, the makeshift belt gave way, and his jeans slipped down to the floor. Luckily, the oversized shirt and tank top you wore covered you just enough.

"You didn't see anything. Get out," you stammered, cheeks burning. Endo chuckled, the phone still capturing every moment. "Good impression, although, one note: you forgot to draw this tattoo," he said, pointing to a specific spot on his arm.

You grabbed a pillow and hurled it at him. "I said get out!"

"Right, right," he replied, backing out of the room with a mischievous smile. "But don't beg me to delete the video; you were so cute."

You groaned, knowing you were in for a relentless teasing. "Endo, I swear, if you don't stop…"

But his laughter was already echoing through the hallway, leaving you to change and try to remove the tattoos you drew with a permanent marker. It can't get any worse than this, can it?

SAKURA HARUKA

The sky was clear when you and Sakura set out to run errands for Kotoha, but halfway through your way to the store, the heavens opened up, and a heavy rain began to pour. You dashed for cover, but it was too late. Your white blouse quickly became soaked, clinging to your skin, making you aware of how exposed you felt. With your hands crossed in front of your chest, you glanced over at Sakura.

He was blushing furiously, doing his best not to look directly at you. His eyes darted nervously, and then he shrugged off his jacket. Holding it out to you, he kept his head turned away, the redness creeping up his neck and ears to the tip of his fingers. "H-here," he stammered, his voice soft and gentle.

"Thank you," you said, taking the jacket from his trembling hands. You slipped it on, the warmth from his body still lingering in the fabric. Sakura's scent enveloped you, and you could see him stealing a few glances, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. It was clear he was trying hard to keep his composure.

You stepped closer to him, your heart pounding in your chest. Standing on your toes, you placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. "I'll return it tomorrow if it's not a problem."

Sakura.exe had officially stopped working. He stood frozen, eyes wide and lips slightly parted, unable to process what just happened. His cheeks were burning, not from the cold rain but from your touch. "Sure, keep it, yeah," he finally managed to say, his voice shaky.

You laughed softly at his reaction, making a mental note to treat him to something nice next time as a thank you. The rain stopped after not too long, but you were still with his jacket on, and he didn't mind at all. Sakura will probably make you run in the rain again, or do anything else, just to have an excuse to give you the jacket.

BONUS !

KOTOHA + TSUBAKI using he/him for tsubaki

Guess what time it is? It’s the casual Girl’s Night that occurs on most Fridays. Tonight, you, Kotoha, and Tsubaki are at Tsubaki's house for a sleepover, and the evening is already filled with gossip and laughter. The three of you sit on the living room floor, painting your nails in bright, fun colors while a horror movie plays in the background. You all giggle at the ridiculous actions of the main characters, the jump scares only adding to the fun.

Soon, the nail polish is drying, and you move on to your next activity: karaoke. The living room transforms into your stage as you each take turns singing loudly, the music echoing through the house. Your voices blend together in a chorus of joy, rockstars quite literally.

After the concert, it’s time for the fashion show. You rummage through Tsubaki's closet, matching your clothes with pieces from Kotoha's and Tsubaki's collections. With a dramatic flair, Tsubaki sets up the "runway" in the hallway, grabbing a flashlight to act as the spotlight.

"Lights, camera, action!" Tsubaki shouts, and you begin your strut down the hallway, feeling like a top model. Tsubaki's enthusiasm is infectious as he cheer, "You are so beautiful, Y/N-chan! I knew that skirt would suit you!"

Kotoha's eyes light up with admiration as she sees how her makeup looks on you. "You look stunning, Y/N," she says, her smile genuine and warm, clapping her hands.

The three of you take turns walking the runway, posing and twirling as you go. Tsubaki snaps photos, capturing every glamorous moment. Once satisfied, you all crowd around his phone, reviewing the photos and choosing the best ones to post on your socials.

Just as you hit "post," your phones buzz with notifications. The Bofurin group chat, which is 99% boys, suddenly goes crazy when Tsubaki sends a video of your model walk. Messages flood in, filled with surprised reactions and compliments.

"Is that Y/N?" Tsubaki reads Hiragi's message. "SO CUTE!" Umemiya added, and for some reason, Sakura sent a thumbs-up emoji, don't judge him, he is still learning to use a phone properly.

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work

[cythena]

REVENGE

ꨄ︎ synopsis . now you're cursed it seemed. maybe it was karma for your relentless attempts to fluster giyuu. they worked out in the end but now he's set on messing with you too.

warnings . oral f receiving, breeding, awkward moments for reader, cowgirl, fingering, messy kissing, really chill tbh

word count . 3k words

notes . part two to this post! since i got a request for it i was a little bit stuck on what to do soooo i reversed the roles now giyuu gets to have fun.

he's doing it on purpose. that evil evil man. there was no way he was that aloof. he's completely aware of what he's doing and he's enjoying it. he loves getting back at you for everything you've done to him.

everything he's done was a calculated move in order to provoke you. whether it was innocently masked questions or touches, they were all done with the intent to fluster you. your words would jumble together and cheeks grow hot. all while he kept that stupid stoic expression like he wasn't messing with you.

you're so upset but can't help but enjoy this game he's started. you even started distancing yourself from him a little. whenever meeting with him, you try to avoid giving him any opportunities. yet somehow he always manages.

he still makes your head dizzy. even from your distance you admire him, his strong jaw, smooth skin, sharp nose. he's so handsome you wish this game would end soon. then you could finally get your hands on him again — or at least even the score.

it's not fair fun anymore. giyuu let your hook up get to his head. you were always hyper aware of how he reacted to you. he avoided you but his eyes lingered. with a gaze so intense and heavy, it was impossible for you not to notice. you relished in his attention and used it as fuel to your advantage.

on mission assignments together, it was nearly impossible to avoid each other. giyuu had suffered previously whenever ubuyashiki made the ignorant and cruel decision to partner you two together. it was undeniable how well you worked together combat wise, but other than that it was insufferable.

the bright side of it was how fast missions were completed. the most time was spent walking together and back, then separating to return home.

"y/n," his voice calls for you from the trees in front. his back is turned to you while he sheaths his sword. when he turns to you, you're flicking blood off the metal of yours with a twirl of your hand.

"yes, tomioka?" your melodic voice rings in his ears. he mentally scowls at the use of his last name once again.

you take few steps to move closer to him, keeping your distance still. he closed a decent amount of the distance to stand in front of you. he bends his neck slightly to meet your eyes.

"we'll stay at an inn for the night."

you're not given time to respond before he's walking to way back to the village. you follow him with a short distance between you until you reach the inn.

the inn is a decent sized place, refurbished and well kept. it's clean and a little busy. a few customers are returning to their rooms with buzzed looks on their faces.

giyuu speaks to the receptionist. he's an older man, sweet faced and kind looking. a woman standing next to him looks to be his tired wife. her eyes are shut and she's wobbles a little.

"good evening. you travelers are out quite late," he smiles and leads you to a room. you trail behind giyuu.

his wife holds freshly steamed yukatas which she hands off to you while a drowsy smile. "have a lovely night you two."

the man shuts the door behind you. from the outside you hear the woman speak again.

"what a sweet couple. the man reminds me of you when you were younger."

your ears perk up now. you glance around the room realizing the circumstances. you were give a single room because they assumed you were together. not that you had a problem with it but still. did you two really look like a couple?

giyuu was already settled near a small table. he begins ridding his haori and sword, placing them on the ground neatly. you remove your outer layers too, opting to be mature about the situation if he is as well.

you face the other direction until he calls your name.

"i need your help, my wound requires bandaging."

"oh, i'll be there in a moment," you reply. you turn your back to him once more to finish taking off your sword.

he takes a seat on the table. his legs spread open, his wrist rests on his thigh and his hand hangs. the other arm props the rest of his body up from behind his back. his collar is loosened and stretched from his neck, revealing his adam's apple.

you swallow thickly at the sight. it's almost...arousing.

you brush it off and focus. "where's your injury?"

giyuu's hand reaches from his thigh and tugs from the opening in his collar. somehow he yanks the buttons open in a single motion. he pulls one side of his shirt away from the center and lets it slide off his arm.

a red wound stretches across the side of his lower torso, next to the eye catching muscles of his abdomen. it makes your mouth water on sight — even though it's nothing you haven't seen before.

your face burns and your eyes go wide. it's inexorable. you notice how giyuu's eyes squint as he watches your face reveal your feelings.

"is there a problem?" he asks, keeping eye contact. "are you able to help?"

that little bastard- you think to yourself.

"yes. just give me the bandages?" you mutter. you try to speed up the process as much a possible.

you kneel down between his legs to reach easier. you're eye to abs with him now. pushing the thought out of your head, you wrap the bandages around him.

giyuu smiles while you're focused on his wound. the sight of your head between his thighs is something he's shamelessly fantasized about. suddenly your head shoots up and you catch the coy smile playing at his lips.

you loose your balance and fall backwards onto your ass. he doesn't react, instead slipping the rest of his shirt off. you take this opportunity to hurry back to your side of the room, far away from him and his stupidly defined abs.

you needed a nice break. finding time in your schedules to meet with mitsuri and shinobu was difficult. a free slot in your schedules aligned on the day of a festival in your town. so the three of you planned a date for that evening.

you all dressed in beautiful clothing, a refreshing change from your corps uniform. you wander the stalls together through the bustling crowds. red and orange lights glow and illuminate your faces. mitsuri stops to sample multiple snacks while shinobu admires handmade crafts.

a cat figure catches your eye and you step to the side for a little.

"i'll catch up with you in a moment," you assure them before heading towards the booth.

it's a cute little wooden cat. you pick it up and examine the delicate woodwork.

"i'd like this. how much?"

"eight yen but for a pretty la-"

an arm suddenly extended over your shoulder and offered what looked to be ten to fifteen yen. the owner happily traded the cat for the generous sum. he gave you the cat wrapped in a pretty box.

you turned to thank the kind person. giyuu stood behind you, shadowing you. he also dorned a deep blue yukata.

"tomioka, i didn't expect you to be the festival type," you said. you both stepped away from the stall and continue walking.

"i'm not." he turned his head and gestured to the three familiar boys and young girl. "tanjiro asked me to come."

"and you were just so willing?"

"it's near your house, i hoped to see you."

his words sent heat to your face once again. such romantic words said so stoically. he was doing this on purpose.

"came all the way here in hopes of seeing me?" you tease.

"if you weren't here," he steps closer to you, "i would've went to your house."

"and if i weren't there?"

"i would've waited." where did he learn this from? he's so forward with his words. he returns to his original position and looks off the the side. his gaze lies on nothing i particular as he speaks again, "but kocho mentioned your plans before."

your path takes you towards a quieter part of the festival. it's just as bright but with more seating and open space available. the loud atmosphere is replaced by a relaxed one. the crickets chirping becomes more apparent now.

you're admiring a particularly beautiful latern when your foot catches an uneven stone in the pavement. you lose your balance and in a flurry of movement, fall forward. giyuu reacts swiftly.

his arms reach out and wrap around your waist and pull you close to his chest. your arms smoosh against his body as your heart races.

"i remember you telling me...not to fall for you," you must be crazy because you hear a chuckle in that statement.

giyuu's soft gaze lingers on you, a faint smile tugging at his lips. you push your palms flat against his chest to get off. before beginning to move, your own lips curled into a playful grin.

"it seems it's too late for me," you whisper.

"y/n!" a high pitched voice gasps.

your head whips to see mitsuri and shinobu joining you and giyuu.

shinobu's eyes close as she brings her fingers to stifle her laugh. "my my, i wouldn't have expected tomioka-san to be so close to anyone, let alone, y/n."

"if you and tomioka-san had a date please don't let us interrupt!" mitsuri's face flushed in excitement at the sight of you and giyuu holding each other.

you quickly push yourself off of him and walk over to them.

"no! we don't have a date, it's not what it looks like." your voice is a giveaway to your humiliation. you hide your expression from all three of them to mask your embarrassment.

a few days after the festival, you don't get any interaction with giyuu. no missions or training sessions bring you together. the distance makes you a bit relentless.

you settle down in your yard, admiring the afternoon. a kakushi calls your attention.

"y/n-sama, i have a letter from tomioka-sama," they say with a bow.

curious and pleased to see some interest from giyuu. you walk over over to the kakushi. they hand you a neatly folded up paper. it's the usual template for any giyuu letter. you'd be concerned if it were longer.

"i need to see you. come to my house as soon as you can - giyuu tomioka."

how dry-

you thank the kakushi and walk back into your house. with no pressing matters at the moment, you decide to visit him immediately. the letter seemed somewhat important.

the journey to his house is quick and you find yourself at his door in no time. you knock firmly. there's a brief pause before the door slides open.

giyuu reveals himself shirtless, his toned muscles and faint scars from battles past on full display. the lighting from the oil lamp highlights the contours of his well-defined chest. he uses his elbow against the frame to hold his head up.

"giyuu what the fuck—" it slips out of you.

his fingers spread through strands of his hair as he gazes down at you. "you're here."

"it seemed urgent," you swallow, trying to keep your composure. he moves aside to let you in. "obviously not that urgent. why are you dressed like this?" you pinch the bridge of your nose.

"is there a problem?" he asks with innocent in his voice.

"when you have guests over—"

"but it's nothing you haven't seen before."

confidence instills itself in you. "so you're dressed like that because i'm here?"

"isn't it more comfortable this way?"

you roll your eyes, trying to hide the heat rising in your cheeks. “perhaps. comfortable or not, it’s still a bit unexpected.”

he chuckles softly, his gaze never leaving yours. “well, if you’re uncomfortable, i can change.”

the playful glint in his eyes tells you he’s enjoying this moment far more than he’s letting on. you take a deep breath, trying to regain your composure.

“no, don’t bother. let's just get to why I’m here.”

as you turn, giyuu steps closer, his presence warm and unmistakable. “if you insist,” he says, his voice low and soft.

he closes the distance between you. your back is pressed against a wall. his lips capture yours in a sudden, fervent kiss. the softness and warmth of his touch make your heart race, and you melt into the kiss, losing yourself in the moment. his hands grasp your face delicately, like glass. you layer your hands on top of his.

he's gentle at first. his lips brush against yours with tender and soft motions. the intensity rises as the pressure of his kiss and fingertips increases. the fervor behind them is fueled by passion, desperation, and yearning. your mouth feels like a fire that only he can cool.

you part with a deep inhale, your chest rises and falls while a string connects your lips.

"that's what i'm here for?"

"not all."

he yanks your shirt off and tosses it. his hands reach to undo your belt while keeping your lips interlocked. you skirt falls onto his floor. he's practically salivating at the sight of your body.

he knew he missed it but not this much.

he pulls back to gawk at your bare body, free from anything barriers. he brings his hands to settle in on your hips.

"nuh uh." you shake your head and gesture to his pants.

he reluctantly pulls away from you to shed his pants. he wastes no time before attacking your lips once again. he trails kisses and bites down your neck until he reaches your nipple. he takes one into his mouth while he tweaks the other with his index and thumb. he uses his other hand to slide across your clit, gathering your slick and then sliding between your folds. his tongue swirls the bud and teeth nibble lightly to tease. you hold onto the base of of his head.

"tomioka," you sigh. you're immediately cut off when he bites harder than usual.

"stop that."

you smile to yourself, pleased with riling him up. you lean back against the wall and sigh. you relax into his touch and in what feels like seconds, you feel yourself tighten around his fingers.

"giyuu! h-hah."

he slows fingers, almost halting your peak completely. your eyes shoot open to see him lowering himself to his knees. you could cum just from seeing his eyes looking up at you. he lets his tongue out before his face disappears between your thighs.

your body doubles over. he matches his fingers to the pace of his unrelenting tongue. he greedily slurps up the heavenly taste of your cunt. you feel the smile pressed against your folds.

high squeals are pulled from your throat. he takes your thigh and rests it on his shoulder. both your hands tangle in his hair and push his deeper.

"oh, i'm cu-mming," you whine.

he spreads your cunt to blow cold air that makes you shiver. his nose pressed against your clit now while his tongue dips into your pussy. a swipe of his tongue is enough to tip you over.

your thighs press against his head while he continues to swallow every bit of you he can get. you're forced to push him away from you. his lips and chin are drenched and all he can do it lick around his lips and fingers.

he looks up you with hazy eyes and uneven breathing.

"ride me?"

you nod, still dizzy. giyuu lies back and rests on his elbows. you straddle him and hover over his cock. your palm wraps around the base to guide him into your hole. he steadies himself by grabbing your hips with a hand.

you slowly rock back and forth, gradually moving to a steady bounce. giyuu lets out soft sighs of relief. his adam's apple bobs with each swallow. he helps you bounce with his hand on you.

"mhm- shit," he groans.

you speed up your pace and steal more sounds from him and force them from yourself.

"hah- fuck fuck, feels good." his breathing grows heavier.

you're practically slamming yourself down on his cock. he reaches that spot that has you squealing every time. you squeeze down on him and your eyes roll back in pure ecstasy.

giyuu pushes your back down so you're flat on your stomach against him. he bends his knees for leverage and thrusts into you.

your head falls into his neck while you relinquish control. his thrusts are dangerously good. your legs are going weak.

"jus' like that...please, i'm gonna-"

he pulls you away and captures your lips in a deep kiss. he holds the back of your neck.

your pussy contracts around his cock. shivers rack through your whole body and you can't stop. "giyuu!" you sob.

your back arches further into him.

"so pretty." his gasp catches you off guard. you're locked into eye contact with him. he whimpers underneath his breath. "can i- cum?"

you're shocked he's asking for permission. a part of you wants to deny and tease but he's been so good to you.

you start to meet his thrusts which pulls a loud gasp from him. you stroke his cheek with your thumb, teasing just a bit.

"you can cum."

timed perfectly, giyuu spurts his load deep inside of you instantly. he refuses to look anywhere else besides your eyes. he's still rocking your hips onto him when he's done.

slowly, he comes down from his high. you settle down against his chest with his cock still inside you.

"hmm, don't wanna get up," you mumble.

giyuu wraps his arms around you. "don't."

[boyfhee]

﹙𝓲ssue﹚ㅤ:ㅤpulling them by their beltㅤ...ㅤ( 엔하이픈 )

ㅤㅤ﹙989﹚ ㅤ장르 fluff, est. relㅤㅤwarnings flirting, kissing in someㅤㅤᐢᗜᐢ tried to keep it as pg as possible. also, i was confused whether to write for riki although i did, but if you think it's inappropriate under this scenario, lmk and i'll remove his part. please rb and give feedback, it helps a lot ^_^ iNDEX

HEESEUNG

nothing could’ve prepared him for the moment when you approached him with a sneaky grin as soon as he returned from work, pulling him close by his belt, eliciting a surprised yelp from his lips before it morphs into a smirk. “woah woah woah woah—” his hands instinctively rest on your waist when you look at him with your oh so innocent eyes, despite your hands raking up his back. “eager tonight, princess?” 

“i missed you,” you smile cheekily, words brushing against his lips when you yank him down with his collar, closing the distance with a searing kiss. 

“you really want to do this, angel?” he chuckles after pulling away, a satisfied grin making its way to his lips when he notices your pout at the loss of contact. he backs you up against the nearest wall, lips brushing against yours. “two can play this game,”

JONGSEONG

poor guy was already late for work because you kept him in bed longer as an excuse for morning cuddles. he was doing the sleeves of his shirt when you pulled him towards you by the belt loop, earning a gasp in return, making him freeze momentarily. “shit— you’re really doing this now?”

“it’s just a silly prank, ‘seongie,” he laughs at the way you’re smiling so cluelessly even though he can see mischief written in your eyes. 

he’s quick to recover and shoots you a cocky grin, arms slithering around your waist to pull you flush against him. he tucks a finger under your chin, tilting your head up and enjoying your flushed expression at the sudden proximity. “you better be ready tonight when i come back from work, doll,”

JAEYUN

actually gasps out loud, his mind short circuiting at the way you pull him towards you. he’s a stuttering mess, cheeks a bit red, eyes wide open in surprise. a startled expression etches across his face while he takes a few moments to process what you just did. “what was that for, baby?” 

“what was what?” his brows furrow at your innocent giggle, even more so when you tug him even closer, managing to get another gasp from him.

he blinks a few times, clearing his throat to pull himself together even though his heart is still running laps. his hands fall down to rest on your hips out of habit, his words wavering when he speaks. “so, are we going to kiss or…?”

SUNGHOON

he raises an eyebrow while looking down at you in complete silence as if asking you to elaborate on your actions. it’d be a lie to say he isn’t on the brink of losing his mind, but he pulls himself together, cocking his head to the right. “is this another one of your pranks?

his lips curl up into a smirk when you shake your head ever so innocently, giving him your sweetest smile. “what prank, hoonie?” 

he inches closer to your face, hands on the nearest surface to trap you in his arms. he plants a few pecks here and there, but never on your lips just to tease you. “if you needed me, you could’ve just said so, gorgeous,”

SUNOO

he was in the middle of telling you something when you tuck your finger in the belt loop of his pants and pull him closer, a loud dramatic squeal leaving his lips. sunoo almost stumbles, hands on your shoulder to balance himself. “BABE…what was that for?” 

he frowns when you laugh at his reaction, your fingers ghosting up the loop and cupping his face as you say with a soft chuckle. “you’re so cute,”

he ends up laughing after a few seconds, leaning down to press his lips against yours and pull you into a chaste kiss before he pulls back and whispers. “that was hot, though,”

JUNGWON

you two were getting ready for a date when you suddenly pulled him towards yourself by his belt, an ‘oh’ falling off his lips as he stared at you curiously. he’s processing your actions before his brain catches up and he manages to speak. “do you need something, love?”

“nope, just you,” literally melts at your words, although he is flustered by how close you are. you wrap your arms around his torso, something he reciprocates by pulling you into a warm embrace.

he’s smiling but is also flustered, faint dust of pink on his cheeks as he nods and looks you in the eyes. “you have me all to yourself, already,”

NI-KI

it’s rather hard to catch him off-guard but you manage to do it anyway, hooking your finger in his belt and pulling him towards you— an action that leaves him perplexed and flustered for a few seconds before he manages to speak. “what’s going on in that head of yours, sweets?”

“nothing,” you deny, your lips pressed together in an attempt to hide your smile, feigning annoyance when he raises an eyebrow in scepticism at your words. “can’t i be with my dear boyfriend?”

he scoffs at your words, knowing you’re trying to be cheeky as always. it barely takes him a minute before giving into you as he inches his face closer to yours, planting a tender kiss on your lips. “you’re a menace,”

taglist

[dilatorywriting]

Monster Mayhem: Siren's Song [Part 3]

Gender Neutral Reader x Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 5.2k

Summary: Teaching a Siren to read is perhaps the best or worst idea that you've ever had. If only you were half as capable of reading between the lines.

[PART 1] [PART 1.5] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4]

‘U-G-L-Y’

“Wow,” you drawled. “What a wonderful use of your new talents.”

The fish you were cooking landed upside down on the hot stone with a crackling sizzle of skin that you could feel as a jumping prickle of heat all along your arm. You poked at your impromptu stovetop with your impromptu stick-spatula and prepared your impromptu leaf-plates. A true culinary connoisseur, you were. When you were rescued, you were going to argue to Riddle that you deserved a promotion to the kitchens. Though, apparently not everyone appreciated your talents.

‘UGLY’ the Siren poked again, jabbing his talon into the sand.

“Then bring me prettier fish,” you returned, pointed. “It’s not that hard.”

His sharp, black claws came up to point at you next alongside his wonderful, two-syllable insult. Then back to you again, with four fingers this time. Both hands going for it. There was a tight, irritated expression on his face that you refused to call a pout because firstly, surely this vicious king of the seas could never pull something so childish. And secondly, because in these past few days you’d developed a terrible habit of just chattering each and every one of your thoughts aloud. And if you called him bratty, or dared imply such pouting was coming from his regal visage, you were just setting yourself up to get drenched by his flailing tail all over again.

“You can’t hurt my feelings,” you said, bland. “Ugly is the nicest thing you’ve ever called me.”

He huffed and smacked his fins against the sand. The trailing, dark tips cracked against your leg and you kicked him right back. It didn’t actually hurt, no more than a pinch to the side, but you’d spent enough time with this asshole now that not fighting back like a toddler pitching a tantrum wasn’t an option anymore.

Just over two weeks, now. Fifteen days and counting.

Those first few days had been spent in a nervous, prey-like panic, of course. Watching him circle the bay with his shredded fins, crying at the top of his lungs until your goosebumps had goosebumps. And then you’d helped untangle him from the mess you’d made, delicately working salt-brined twine away from weeping wounds. Sure, there’d been that whole hoopla of him pinning you in the sand after your act of Great Chivalry and promptly threatening to rip your throat out with his teeth, but you’d moved past that. The offering of home-cooked meals had softened his scaly hide, and then the even greater move of handing him your species’ alphabet like some great, guarded secret of old had sealed the deal. Cheers all around. It’d only taken you nearly being eaten, disemboweled, and drowned, but you’d made peace with your roommate. What a success story.

And now instead of trying to murder you, he just called you U-G-L-Y.

So, you know, baby steps.

The thin, pointed end of his tail whipped up from where you’d kicked him to twine around your ankle and give a sharp tug that had you sprawling face first into the sand with an oomph. Your great tumble sent all those pretty letters of his scattering in the breeze, and you spat out a mouthful of grit.

“Here’s a new one for you,” you chirped, digging your fingers into the muck. F-U-C-K—Y-O-U.

The Siren yowled, which you’d come to recognize far too well as a prickle along your nape and that forever echoing tug, tug, tug somewhere in your head that could never return the call with its corresponding answer. His tail flailed out again to smack at your hands. It was thick, and scaly, and all smooth, powerful muscle. The fact that he hadn’t crushed your poor fingers into a sad, bony paste by now beneath its wrath was a miracle. If you were a more optimistic person, you’d say he was being extra gentle with you on purpose. But even you weren’t delusional enough to think he liked you that much.

“Okay, okay,” you grouched, spitting out another mouthful of pebbles. “Fine. Just not around the food. Unless you want to have to go hunting for dinner all over again.”

The Siren huffed, rolling his eyes like it was a professional sport, and settled himself prettily back against the butt of his tail like he’d never even tried to beat you to death with his fins at all.

You sighed and pulled yourself back out of the sand, scrubbing it from your salt-sticky skin as best as you were able. You returned to poking at your fish. They weren’t too terribly singed, despite your distraction. And the Siren seemed to like the edges extra crispy either way, so it wasn’t any kind of loss. You were in the middle of balancing your impromptu stick-spatula against another impromptu stick-spoon to try and flip the fish without destroying it entirely when you felt a gentle poke, poke, poke against your arm.

You looked back and the Siren stared down at you, lips canted in a sharp smirk that was all pride.

U-G-L-Y—A-N-D—S-T-U-P-I-D, the sand said.

He’d been struggling with applying the whole -pid noise to the proper lettering, because of how similar it was to -ped. And the spelling had been tripping him up (with much obvious frustration) for the last day or so.

“Well done,” you sighed, not even too terribly upset that it had taken you months in Riddle’s impromptu classrooms to learn what he was picking up over the course of a few, harried sessions delivered with broken bits of sharp sticks and an ever changing canvas. “Try this.”

You scribbled another message in the sand. An insult, naturally, because he seemed to like those. You sounded out the letters as you hopped the tip of your finger over them one-by-one, and the Siren stared down at the inscription with the sort of intense focus meant for ancient tomes or sacred texts. You watched his lips move silently as he sounded it out alongside your mini-lesson, and then he was reaching forward to trace over the letters with the curved tip of a claw—knuckles bumping yours for a moment before shooing your hand away.

You returned to your dinner—finishing up the poor, murdered fish as best as you could and doling it out as usual. You reached out to hand pretty boy his leaf-plate, which he took like a lord accepting a meal from a lowly servant. All upturned noses and pointed disinterest. He set it beside him and nibbled on the offering as he continued to study the new task you’d given him—grand, purple fins splayed out at his sides to brush against your hip like a habit. And this was your life now, apparently. Sitting and frying lazy, shallow water fish over a heated stone while your Siren student studied curse words in the sand. If you managed to survive this, no one would ever believe you.

.

.

The wrecked ship called to you like, well, did you even have to say it.

(It felt like a low hanging pun at this point. You’d never be able to use the expression again for as long as you lived without thinking of narrowed, purple eyes nearly rolling up into the back of a too pretty head because you were apparently that annoying.)

Every day when you ventured towards the western side of the islet to feed your teeny, round octopus friend, you couldn’t help but sit and stare at the shattered hull. It’s not like it was in any sort of shape to actually get you off your little, sandy prison, but it was… There was something about it that was familiar enough to scratch an itch in your brain, but just alien enough that figuring out what was itching was outright impossible.

Silver songbirds.

‘Not safe,’ the Siren had demanded, with an almost frantic look to him. Not safe.

Every time you tried to venture closer to get a better look, it was like he could feel it. And he’d be pacing the shoreline like a blood-frenzied shark—rattling off muted, angry complaints the whole time that popped against your skin like soda fizz. So, lesson learned. Keep away.  

It was a particularly sweltering afternoon today. Not a cloud in the bright, blue sky and nary a breeze to be seen. Sweat was beading unpleasantly along your brow and all down your back, and you hated it. At least on the Rose Queen there had been shade. And the lower decks of the ship submerged in the waves had always felt at least a little chilled. You could practically feel the damp, cool wood against your cheek. The smell of salt and pine oils in your nose. But here, on this stupid not-island with its barren trees and nothings, you just had to suffer in silence. The memories of your ship had you thinking of the washed up Songbird all over again, and you were in the middle of a heated, internal debate over making a swim for it again when something cold rained down over your face in small, scattered droplets.

You blinked back into focus to see Mister Merman at your ankles. You’d been sitting with your heels in the water, but no deeper. Because the shallows were still his territory, and while he hadn’t tried to hold you under in a while now, it was hard to forget something like that so easily. You didn’t really want to chance it if a foul mood struck him, no matter what sort of fragile truce seemed to exist between the pair of you lately.

Last you’d looked he’d been sunning himself on one of the wide, flat rocks—as he was wont to do. Lavender-tipped hair splayed out along his cheeks in a pool of soft gold and fins spread at his hips like the finest, plum silks. How he never seemed to burn with that delicate, ivory skin of his you had no idea. Maybe it was a Magical, Mystical, Merman perk yet undocumented. Or maybe he was just Like That. But he’d been snoozing away on his favorite boulder, and now he had rolled in with the tide to lounge by your toes. His fingers were spread, still dripping with sea water from where he’d flicked you in the face. You frowned at him—partly curious, but also pissilly blinking salt out of your eyes that stung, because come on dude.

He flicked more water your way and said something that you couldn’t manage to catch the shape of. When you didn’t respond with anything other than a pointed scrub of the water dripping down your cheeks, he reached out to wrap a clawed hand around your ankle and give a gentle tug.

“What?” you frowned, confused, and he tugged again.

He canted his head towards you, and then out to the cove behind him. He slipped back with the soft, frothy roll of the waves—just a foot or two—and clearly meant to pull you with him. You slid against the sandbar with a yelp and dug your heels into the muck to keep from getting yanked all the way in.

“No way,” you snipped, kicking a mess of water into his face. He didn’t even blink, just frowned down at you with a twisty sort of petulance. “I thought we were over this. If you drown me you won’t get any more cooked food, y’know. And I, in turn, would very much like to not be drowned. Win, win.”

That frown of his went stiff, and his lips twitched down at the corners. His amethyst eyes darted away and for a moment you swore that those gemstone irises flashed with something almost like guilt. He rolled forward with the next curl of surf and pressed a claw into the damp, dark sand at your hip. He scratched out a careful message, stubbornly refusing to meet your gaze all the while.

Won’t, it said.

“Forgive me for not believing that,” you returned, dry. “You’re oh-for-two now, I think. And, you know, fool me twice, and all that.” Though maybe the first one didn’t really count, seeing how you were both tangled together and sinking to the bottom in a mutual sort of destruction. But whatever. You were keeping it.

The Siren’s brow pinched in the middle and he reached forward to dig his claws in again.

Accident.

Your own brows jumped nearly to your hairline. You were just about to politely point out that dragging someone to the bottom of the ocean until they were bubbling from the nose and flailing wasn’t really an accident,but then you remembered the startled look on his face. The way he hadn’t stopped you from clawing your way back to the surface and how he’d carefully helped tow you back towards the shore after. And… maybe he hadn’t really meant it. It had to be strange, probably. Being able to thrive so easily below the waves and then be faced with someone who would die if they were left facedown in a puddle.  

“…Fine,” you huffed, and his eyes jumped back up to yours with all cat-in-the-cream smugness. “But just because I’m about to drop from heatstroke. Not because you asked.”

The Siren rolled his eyes at you and returned to dragging you by your ankles into the shallows.

The bay really was very lovely. It was crystalline clear and the sort of brilliant blue that you’d never even known existed until you’d left the land for a life on the open ocean. The sand below your feet was soft and white, with barely any pebbles or broken bits of shell to dig into your toes. You watched a few crabs scurry out of the way as you were led deeper and deeper, but most of the cove’s occupants were spoiled and slow. Unbothered by this weird, fleshy, bipedal creature stepping past because they’d never known anything else. Once you hit waist-deep, the Siren let go of you to sink more fully into the water. He swam around you in a languid, looping circle—plum fins cresting the surface to flick water against your arms and scales shining like polished glass in the sunlight. It was still far too shallow for him to move around in earnest with how massive that tail of his was, and how wide and trailing his great, beta-like fins were, but he was still elegant. Still fast and flexible as he swam rings around you like an orbit.

“Show off,” you scoffed, but couldn’t quite bite back the grin twitching at your lips.

Because creature from the deep trying to devour your crew or not, Sirens really were so impressive, weren’t they? Straight out of a storybook, and deserving of every song and tale attributed to them.

You reached out before you could help yourself to run your fingers along his tail. The scales were smooth, and sleek, and cool against your palm. The wispy ends of his fins caught along your fingers, but other than a bit of a tangle, you almost managed to run your hand along the whole of it. And what was it? Eight feet? Ten? Bigger than you at least, that was for sure. It wasn’t like anything you’d ever felt. No fish, or whale hide, or shark. Something entirely of its own.

You realized on the next loop when your fingers danced over a patch of still healing scales that you’d felt already that he had most definitely realized your err in personal space, and was letting you poke about on purpose. You glanced up, embarrassed and warm faced, to see the tail end of a smirk quirking out from the water’s surface. Preening bastard.

You turned up your nose and waded deeper. There was a ripple in the water around you, like a chuckle, and he returned to his looping circles. Occasionally his tail would brush up against you to get you to jump, but otherwise he kept his hands to himself and—as promised—did not attempt to wrestle you down to the sandy floor and your subsequent watery grave.

Once you’d made it up to your chest, the Siren was able to start his dance in earnest. He darted away to make a wide arc around the edge of the cove—sunshine catching on his scales like a glare on the water. He shot from one end to the other, so fast it was nearly dizzying to try and keep up with. And then he was back to circling your ankles all over again—tangling your legs in his fins and curling his talons against your calves to try and drag you deeper.

“Okay, okay,” you laughed, paddling after him until you were well and truly above your head. The bay wasn’t very deep, but there were a few areas that dipped down to at least fifteen feet. So soon enough you were bobbing like a top in the gentle surf as he looped around your idly kicking feet—brushing up along your ankles and tugging at the frayed edge of your shirt with his claws when he passed by.

When he next rose above the surface, you’d already taken in a big mouthful of water in preparation, and shot it right into his face. The Siren’s whole expression shriveled up like a hundred-year-old prune and you laughed so hard he had to curl his tail around your waist to keep you from dipping under the waves and choking yourself. You let him drag you around and only grabbed at his fins a little. He would dive below your feet and you’d sink after him. Not nearly as agile or adept, but competent enough to follow his little game of tag without losing completely within the first few seconds. It was—it was nice. Genuinely. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d swam for the fun of it. Way back when you’d first joined up with Riddle’s crew, maybe. It’d been a hot day, just like this one, and you’d been anchored in a safe, shallow inlet off the coast of an archipelago. Deuce and Ace had jumped in first, already brawling, and you’d dove in soon after. It’d been a mess, and Riddle had nearly hung the three of you up by your toes for it. But it’d been fun. Familial. Warm. Something you’d never forget. And while this moment didn’t feel entirely like that one had, there was something similar about it. Sure, you weren’t trying to give the Siren a bloody nose and there were no rock wars, but it was… well, it was nice.

By the end of it, he was swimming lazy, looping shapes around the cove, and you were being dragged alongside him like a raft—kept afloat by the curling press of his tail and relaxing in the afternoon sunshine with the cool ripples of the ocean water to keep you both comfortable in the heat.

“Do you do this a lot?” you asked, as you relaxed in the gentle lull of the surf. “With your pod, I mean.”

The Siren stiffened beneath you, but after a moment he nodded. Slow and rigid. Which—

Oh. Right.

“…sorry,” you mumbled, gaze darting away.

Because he was missing his family just as much as you were missing yours, wasn’t he?

All that frantic pacing at the start of your mutual stranding had just seemed to… fade away as the days passed. He would still circle the entrance of the cove some mornings, singing towards the skies and tilting his head—fins pricked as he searched for an answer. You’d feel it in your nerves, see the gulls overhead dipping in a trance and watch the crabs crawl up onto the sand like they were being dragged out by their little claws. But most of the time now he just… didn’t. He spent his days mumbling over the letters you showed him, or carefully preening over his healing fins and resting in the sun. Catching fish for you to prepare and roast, and taking his meals at your side as you both snipped at each other with sandy curse words. It was pleasant, this routine you’d fallen into together. But all the same, he never really stopped checking the ocean waters. And you could see a spark in his eyes, an itch. The same one that lit yours, no doubt, every time you caught yourself squinting for the outline of ships on the horizon.

The difference between the two of you, of course, was that in a few more days his scales would be healed enough to face the dangers of the open water alone. Life as a rogue mer was notoriously perilous. The lone Sirens were those that poachers were willing to risk battle with for a trophy. They were the ones caught in fishing nets, and found mauled by rival pods. But your Siren was smart. He was big, and strong, and impressive. He’d find a way to survive it, no doubt. One morning you’d wake up and he’d have darted off into the deep to search for his family. To go home. And you…

You would still be trapped here.

Alone.

Forever.

Rotting under the sun with no one to take you swimming in the afternoons. Or bring you clawed up fish to cook for dinner. Or to use your writing lessons just to insult you with scribbled words in the muck.

Which—that was what you’d wanted, wasn’t it? At the start of all of this.

And it was only fair, in the end. He was the better of the two of you, after all. Born and bred to thrive in the depths of the sea that would swallow you whole without a thought. And if either of you was going to survive, to find your home again, it was always going to be him. Maybe you’d be a story, like he would have been for you. The strange human with no ears, just like the rest of the pirates whispered about. Who taught him that fire could make fish extra tasty and that leaves could make perfectly serviceable plates if you tried hard enough.

You sighed, and bubbles of salt water frothed along your mouth.

The Siren raised his head from his own lazy sprawl to arch a brow at you in question, and you did the very mature thing of spitting water in his face all over again.

You ended up being dragged through the cove in a flurry of spitting, Siren rage. Laughing and laughing until he huffed and hauled you back to shore to keep you from swallowing any more seawater like the idiot that you were. And it was fine, really it was. He wasn’t so bad, not really. And if he was able to reunite with his pod once more after all those days of hollow wailing and pacing, pacing, pacing that had made something deep in your soul itch like a freshly scabbed wound that you just couldn’t stop picking, well, that wouldn’t be such a bad ending after all.

.

.

The next afternoon while you were out on your daily Octopus Wellness Check, you came across a piece of pale, purple sea glass mixed into the rocky shore. It was smooth to the touch and frosted over by the endless tumble of the tide. You held it up to the light and it sparkled just like the Siren’s scales.

“What do you think?” you asked the octopus as it grabbed shredded bits of fish with its chubby, little tentacles. “Do you want it? Or should I give it to—”

You blinked, startled, and realized all at once that you’d never learned the Siren’s name. Or given him yours. You’d just sort of been calling each other a variety of derogatory pseudonyms and hoping for the best. Which, huh. You hadn’t even realized you’d wanted to know his name. It wasn’t yours to take, of course. Let alone from someone who would no doubt be leaving so soon. But it was a thought.

“You always give the best advice, you know,” you told the teeny creature, and it hid from you like you were a great, looming monster of old. “Whether you meant to or not. Thanks for that.”

So on the way back to your cove, you picked through some tufts of beachgrass to find the longest, driest spikes. You began winding them together as you walked, and settled down in your favorite little corner of the inlet to continue your weaving. The Siren, naturally—being as nosy as he was—was immediately hovering over you like a child watching someone hold a bag of sweets just out of reach. You clutched your little project to your chest like a secret, and it had him puffing up in irritation and smacking his fins against your sides like your refusal to share whatever had caught your attention was a crime beyond comparison. He arched up as tall as he could to try and peer over your shoulder, and, in failing at that, just outright tried to snatch the thing from your hands.

“I won’t give it to you if you keep being a pest,” you warned, and immediately he was slipping back to rest on his stomach in the damp sand with a starbright curiosity in his eyes, chin pillowed atop his interlaced fingers and gaze following the movements of your hands like a cat tracking a mouse in its hole. Clearly the promise of it being a treat for him was mollification enough to keep him from hovering.

Once you’d braided a sturdy enough chain, you carefully twined it around the sea glass in a little, crisscrossing cage of fibers. Just knotted enough to keep the ocean-worn trinket safe and in place without hiding the shine of it. With that, you held up your trophy with a dramatic wave, and the Siren was popping up all over again. His amethyst glare tracked the swinging pendant with startling focus and a surprisingly wide-eyed spark of confusion.

“Here,” you said, reaching out to drop the makeshift necklace into his lap. He caught it in his claws, eyes still far too round with shock. “It made me think of your scales. I thought you might like it.”

He was staring down at the gift in utter silence. And not the normal sort of quiet either—where your broken eardrums simply refused to pick up on all his petulant grousing against your person. This was actual silence. His lips were parted like they were caught on a breath, but he wasn’t saying anything. Not even a complaint about how plain and ugly it was. He curled his claws daintily around the woven chain, as if he was afraid of tearing right through it with an accidental prick, and then held the sparkling bauble aloft like he was utterly entranced by the soft gleam of it.

After a long, long moment of that near eerie silence and a pool of dread filling your belly that screamed you’d clearly fucked up in some way (overstepped some weird, Siren tradition. Accidentally insulted his father. Handed him a bad luck omen on a string. Something), the Siren was twisting around to show you the back of his neck. He held up the woven chain so it draped along his shoulder blades, and he pointedly shook the ends at you.

When you just gaped back in shock, he turned to sneer over his shoulder at you and jabbed a claw at his throat, then the necklace, then you, then his throat again. Which, oh. Oh! That—that you could do.

So you reached out to pluck the ends of the grass-woven thread from his talons and he immediately shifted around again to make himself comfortable. Curling his tail firmly against the sand with his plum-lined fins spread out in all their glory like a spill of purple ink along the shoreline. He set his shoulders square and firm, and looked straight ahead with that same, queer sort of focus to him as before.

You tied the ends of the necklace in a bow against his nape, making sure it was securely fastened in place and not snagging any of the softer, shorter hairs at the back of his neck. Once it’d been fussed with to his liking, he turned back around and stared you down until you could feel goosebumps prickling up all along your spine. You wanted to meekly tell him that it was just sea glass. Just a little trinket you’d found in the sand that you’d thought was pretty enough that he might like to have it. But the words died on your tongue. They felt wrong somehow. And you’d put your foot in your mouth plenty of times throughout your life, but this definitely felt like it would have been the biggest boot of all.

“…You like it?” you tried instead, because that sentiment at least seemed less like something that was ready to clog up your throat.

The Siren nodded, firm, his eyes still drilling into yours with that unnerving level of focus.

You coughed into your fist and awkwardly attempted to shift away to give yourself a bit of room, and—Huh. When had his tail come up to wrap around your leg? That made running away a bit inconvenient. You’d just have to try and wriggle your way out and hope he would take mercy on your far inferior musculature, and—

There was a poke at your hip. Tap, tap, tap. One, two, three. And you glanced back up at him with a pinched frown, confused.

The Siren pointed to a scrawl in the sand. Tap, tap, tap.

Acceptable.

You gawked, and then swallowed a laugh so fast it nearly choked you. Because he was still himself, wasn’t he? No matter what. Sassy, asshole fish. Gods, you were going to miss him.

You wiped at the bubbling, giggling tears prickling at the corner of your eyes and reached out to pat at his tail in good humor.

“I hope you find your happy ending,” you beamed, and meant it.

The Siren just looked at you with one of his familiar, lemon-sour puckers. He pointedly reached up to flick at the necklace around his throat, like that had anything to do with him finding his family again at all. Like it wasn’t just some silly trinket you’d gifted him in hopes that maybe one day he could look back fondly on the little human that he’d found himself stranded with. To not just forget you outright. To make your fleeting presence in his life something tangible, rather than just a mess of already fading scars and memories that would too easily be swept away in the depths of the sea.

“At least it’s acceptable,” you said finally around your giggling, and he huffed at you in a way that almost looked fond. You stood from the sand and brushed the mess of grit and salt off your pant legs. “Come on. Let’s go have dinner and I’ll teach you some nicer words tonight. So you can give me a real compliment next time.”

There was spray of water all along your back from where he’d no doubt dove back into the shallows behind you and walloped you with his fins to the best of his ability. And honestly, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be bothered by it at all.

.

.

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[writerpeach]

Ambrosial: Part One

IVE Jang Wonyoung x m!reader

16k words

Part four of the Annyeongz (soon to be titled) series

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

---

Read on AO3

24 unread messages

where the fuck are you? wake up already

You don’t ask for much. 

Without a doubt, you’ve been living life to the fullest, in the most luxurious apartment on campus, maybe in the city. Fully furnished, several floors above anyone else, it’s equipped with everything one could need, including a pool and gym, plenty of rooms, plenty of space, plenty of comfort. 

From the expensive decor to the extravagant clothes, the priceless jewelry and fancy cars, this place resembles more a palace than a simple living space. You wonder how you got caught up living in this reality—just you, Wonyoung, and her best friend and mutual roommate, Yujin. 

Roommates doesn’t exactly seem the right word, considering how blurred these lines have gotten, where you've woken up in a mess of naked bodies and tangled limbs, not even remembering whose bed you've fallen asleep in.

Despite all that, you never need to ask for anything—ever. They've taken care of your needs, both financially and in other ways, without ever having to vocalize them, something you’re eternally grateful for. And yet, the one thing you crave most, a nice, peaceful morning to sleep in—you’re almost never granted. 

Every time your head hits the pillow, your phone buzzes. Another text, another voicemail. One more thing hindering your return to dreamland. Leaving it on silent just delays the problem—you know it’ll keep ringing regardless, because the name attached to these annoyances, it’s none other than Jang Wonyoung, and she’ll do whatever it takes to get your attention. 

Her persistence is unrivaled, unmatched, unrelenting. She never rests, not until she’ll get what she wants. Which also means you don’t rest until then. 

You’re tempted to just ditch your phone, open up a window and toss it outside, easily forgetting it exists. The apartment is on the top floor, and it’s a long way down—and yet, you’re not prepared to deal with the consequences that’ll come from that. If only it were so simple. If only you had personally bought this phone instead of it being gifted to you during Christmas by the two of them, after it had been sold out for months—

So with much reluctance, you swallow your pride and kick the sheets off, until your feet touch the cold floor, signaling the start of the day. 

Now, instead of making breakfast for Yujin or sitting down to a nice cup of coffee, you’re walking through foot-high snow, freezing your ass off on a trek through campus when you don’t even have any classes at all this morning. All before the time your alarm usually goes off. That’s your fault, you suppose, for ignoring all her voicemails and responding only to her latest text, the one with an obscene amount of exclamation marks. 

The walk, in hindsight, isn’t too far—ten minutes at the most. But now that you’re meeting Wonyoung for whatever ungodly reason so early, every snow-covered step takes twice as long, feeling like you’re walking in cement. 

But hey, maybe this’ll be worth your while, finding out why the hell it’s so urgent to be driven out of bed at whatever-the-fuck hour this is in the morning. And maybe, just maybe, Wonyoung has a fresh hot cup of coffee and breakfast as your consolation prize (spoiler alert, she doesn’t).

Luckily for you, once the student center comes into view, so does Wonyoung. It’s always so easy to pick her out of a crowd in that ridiculously large coat, and those fuzzy boots that are anything but practical (it can’t be considered Wonyoung if it’s not form over function). This girl’s a head-turner for sure, and even in the freezing cold still manages to look like a model fresh off the Paris runway. 

Wonyoung's attention snaps off her phone when she notices your arrival, turning her head in your general direction. There’s a blank expression on her face when she approaches with her arms folded, icy breath visible with each exhale, and you can see that deadly glare even through her designer shades. “Took you long enough.” 

"Kept the princess waiting, huh? Didn't realize," you reply, unapologetically sarcastic in tone as possible, hands deep in your pockets for warmth. Even with those expensive sunglasses on, it isn’t hard to imagine the eye roll you’re getting underneath. “It's fucking cold, not exactly easy to speed through the snow.” 

"Should have dressed warmer if you're cold then," Wonyoung dares to suggest as she snatches up your wrist, her gloved fingers so warm in comparison. "Get over here, dummy."

Wonyoung closes the distance without a moment's hesitation, planting a soft, heartfelt kiss on your lips, the warmth of her mouth alone a better heat source than any coat could hope to match. She steals a few more kisses, taking no regard for your surroundings, before ultimately settling against your shoulder, not paying attention to any other people passing by the two of you.

"What's so important that you had to drag me out of bed for?" 

"Spending time with me isn't important enough? Not everyone gets to wake up and see this face every day—" Wonyoung says so shamelessly as she leads the way inside.

You’re dragged inside by this delicate little thing, who at the very moment has so much ridiculous strength, guiding you who knows where. Passing by the cafeteria is your first red flag, the fresh smell of coffee taunting you as she presses a button to call down the elevator. 

The steel doors shut, and before you have time to question anything, she's sealing your lips with a kiss again, this time with enough aggression to press you into the wall. After pulling away, Wonyoung’s sunglasses flip up and rest atop her head, followed by a devious, satisfied grin overtaking her lips.

“Not that I'm complaining—but you woke me up just to make out?” 

“Maybe. Hmph,” Wonyoung sighs, her hands reaching out to fix your scarf. “Yujin’s been keeping you all to herself lately.” 

You can’t tell if she’s genuinely jealous, or just looking for an excuse to steal you away—not like it makes any difference. Wonyoung isn’t usually keen on answering questions. She simply kisses you again, hoping to offer a distraction while the elevator slowly hums towards whatever floor is your destination. 

“Ugh, don’t make me say it.” 

“Say what?” 

The elevator chimes, but Wonyoung doesn’t give a hint of explanation when the doors slide open, taking your hand to bring you out onto the rooftop terrace. A burst of cool air comes through that sends a shiver through your body, and this beautiful, white landscape apparently is her top secret location, a secluded outdoor area with the most breathtaking view. 

Unsurprisingly, it’s empty—not a single person brave enough to be up here. A chilly breeze still passes through, even though the patio area is adequately covered. So with any luck, you’ll have the entire place to yourself, with all the privacy in the world to enjoy it, which is perfect when you have Wonyoung to warm up with. 

After dusting the snow off the nearest couch, Wonyoung beckons you to sit beside her, pulling you down to her level. But before you can take another breath, she’s already in your lap to make out with you again, both hands cupping your face, eager to claim what belongs to her. 

"I thought you hate the cold," you say, surprised that Wonyoung of all people came up here to a place like this willingly.

"Yeah, well—“ She pauses mid-sentence, removing her sunglasses off her head and tucking them into the inside pocket of her coat. “I like you more.” 

It’s cute—that even a bratty girl like Wonyoung can show vulnerability like this. 

A rare accomplishment for sure, that rosy pink hue warming her cheeks when she gets all flustered. Even more uncommon that she gets shy long enough to glance away, but once her gaze returns, the demure smile on her face could melt the snow that surrounds you. Wonyoung pockets her gloves as her long, slender fingers play with the collar of your sweater, leaning in for another kiss. 

It’s slow and methodical the way your lips press together, with neither one of you bold enough to be the first to deepen it. All you can think about is how soft these glossy lips are, and how sweet the taste of Wonyoung is that you’ll give anything to it savor forever while her fingers wander through your hair. 

But It doesn't take long for these innocent kisses to turn quickly into something much more heated, tongues slowly invading each other's mouths. The lingering sweetness of her lips pairs with dominance that you’ve eagerly given up, letting her dictate every movement, defenseless to do much more than melt when her teeth play with your bottom lip.

“Daddy…” 

It spills out so casually from Wonyoung's pretty lips, one simple word triggering something dangerous inside you that causes enough hesitation for you to get lost in her eyes. “Princess.” 

“Just missed you, I guess…” she confesses out of nowhere, all out of breath, her icy hands still cupped around your face. The shiver it sends through you isn’t from the frosty weather, or even that favorite little word she loves using. 

“You guess?” you ask, and let out a slight chuckle at the lack of sincerity, admiring how absolutely stunning this girl looks in your arms—those hypnotizing doe eyes, rosy cheeks, and parted lips all forming pieces to the most gorgeous picture.

Then there's that signature pout, potent as ever, on Wonyoung's face that shouldn't be allowed to be this irresistibly cute. 

“Say it back!” 

You can’t help but want to tease her further, leaving a gentle kiss on the corner of her lips, knowing full well Wonyoung's validation has no end to it. "Say what back?"

With a deepening pout and narrowed eyes, Wonyoung grasps your face in her hands, preventing you from averting from her softening gaze that’s becoming increasingly less threatening with each passing second. "Daddy—"

Those little whines that escape only widen your smile as she hits your chest with all the impact of a fallen snowflake, which only succeeds in getting her even more riled up. Admittedly, that isn’t hard to do. 

"Did I miss you?" The more you deny what she needs to hear, the more she crumbles, a total withdrawal from her usual demeanor. “I think the cold is getting to you. Don’t be so delusional to believe that I think about you for a moment, Jang Wonyoung.”

"Shut up," she scoffs, reverting to her usual bratty self, aggressively kissing you and tugging at your hair. "You're the one who walked through the snow just to kiss me."

With nothing to respond with, you let her win in silence—because she's absolutely right. 

Now you're stuck here with Wonyoung perched on your lap, sitting on a rooftop patio, all tangled up with her lips. You can’t help but admit you're hopelessly addicted to the taste of these kisses, the scent of her perfume, and how her eyes fixate on yours long enough that you’ll do anything she asks. And while she's busy kissing your  cheek, moving to trace the outline of your earlobe, you're just letting her explore wherever she pleases, removing your scarf so she has room to leave whatever marks she wants on your bare neck.

“Don’t worry, daddy. This’ll keep you warm instead,” she mutters, her voice so comforting right next to your ear. Her lips kiss into the crook of your neck, sucking and biting on the sensitive skin to leave her first mark—one that Yujin isn’t going to like. 

When she's done, there's another quick peck to the same spot, as if she's somehow fixing the damage caused by kissing it again. These little pecks that trail all across your jawline, they gradually get more needy by the second, in a way that you've not witnessed before, as if every kiss leaves Wonyoung even more desperate than the one before it. 

"Yujinnie is busy all day today with classes,” she says, and her voice dips so sweet and suggestive when she trails off, a hand sliding up to your chin to guide your mouth back to hers. "So that means daddy gets to play with me all day..."

You’re not sure if you should be excited, concerned, or a little bit of both, that Wonyoung has every intention of monopolizing you today. There seems to be no end to this make-out session, but you have nothing to complain about other than being a little cold and more than a little hungry—but that can be ignored when this outing has turned into a cute, unplanned little date.

“Princess,” you get out between the onslaught of kisses, but her persistent lips cling back to your neck, refusing to give up any affection. “I hate to stop kissing you, but if I don’t eat something…“

“Fine,” Wonyoung says, with the most audible sigh she can produce, climbing off your lap reluctantly to give your lips a much needed rest. “Let’s go get you some breakfast then—because daddy is going to need all his energy."

It’s gotten far too normalized for you to even react to Wonyoung mouthing off something like that. 

Once the two of you get back on your feet, you grab your scarf from the bench to wrap it back around your neck, but before you get too far, Wonyoung stops you from hiding the evidence. 

"Nuh-uh—no covering up my work." 

Her pretty, manicured hands snatch the scarf from you, looping it around her own neck and she smiles with pride at all the marks visible on your thoroughly kissed neck. "There, now everyone can see daddy's all mine."

Wonyoung giggles as she spins on her heels, grabbing your hand to lead the way back inside. When her fingers interlace with your own, she gives your hand a firm squeeze, doubling down on her claim as you take the elevator and head back down towards the dining hall. 

On your way inside, Wonyoung’s mere presence attracts enough attention to get a multitude of eyes watching, like she’s walking down the red carpet of a movie premiere instead of just strolling down the cafeteria’s extensive breakfast buffet. 

While you stay one step behind, you can’t help but feel you’re a trophy that Wonyoung proudly displays around, these fresh marks on your neck a badge of honor that backs up her claim.

All this extra attention leaves you a little self conscious, especially in front of a crowd that's mostly students you share the same classes with. On the contrary, Wonyoung's perfectly fine being stared at like this, the attention gained doing nothing but brightening her smile. It’s so easy for her to bask in it while she waits for you to catch up, turning around to plant a kiss on your cheek that’s going to draw even more stares. 

In front of all these eyes, Wonyoung so shamelessly has no trouble giving you all the affection she thinks you deserve, and you’re more than happy to receive it, regardless of the embarrassment that comes at your expense. 

Eventually, you end up in the checkout line, waiting in silence for Wonyoung to go through the process of paying. Her wallet is all glittery pink and so princess-like, pulling out her black card like it’s nothing, easily able to cover the bill for the entire dining room with no sweat. 

Now it's just a matter of finding a free table to sit at, which isn't easy. The morning rush is in full swing, which means most tables are packed to the brim with hungry students, or anyone looking for a place to study that isn’t the stuffy, equally overcrowded library. Luckily, Wonyoung spots a seat in the corner emptying out, almost as if they’ve left at her behest, and you follow behind to claim the precious real estate.

Wonyoung pulls her coat off and takes a seat, with her meal comprising an extra-large iced vanilla latte (that's mostly whipped cream), and a blueberry muffin with a few pieces of fruit. Compared to the meal you managed to get on your plate, hers looks pretty modest, but then again, this girl lives on desserts and coffee alone, the idea of a proper meal a completely foreign concept to her. 

Before you join her, you take one last look around, wondering if the stares have calmed down at all. But no—it's just the opposite, the popularity of hers shining a spotlight on the two of you.

"Daddy, sit." Wonyoung pats the spot beside her instead of across the table, with an innocent smile that contradicts the demanding nature of her tone. You follow her command without any protest and take a seat beside her. 

Unsurprisingly, Wonyoung stays in character, and doesn’t eat too fast as she begins to take the littlest bites imaginable of her muffin, washing it down with a long sip of coffee. It’s a clear contrast from how you’ve devoured nearly half of your breakfast in what feels like only a few bites, but it can’t be helped, especially with how hungry you are, that rooftop make-out session only making matters worse. 

Besides, Wonyoung enjoys watching you eat—offering you a bite of her muffin in exchange for a kiss that she sneaks in when you've finished chewing, giving you a double dose of blueberry that lingers on her lips.

“Daddy…” she says out loud, unconcerned with who hears your little pet name, whether it be the table next to you or the entire dining hall. “Won’t it be fun with no one interrupting us for the whole day?"

With no hesitation, she rests a hand on your thigh underneath the table, and leans in to press some sweet little kisses against your cheek, all that innocence desperately trying to cover up her intentions. 

"Don't you have class later?"

"Do I?" Wonyoung asks all coyly, pulling out her phone for a moment and not even bothering to check her schedule before putting it away back in her purse. "Looks like I'm all free suddenly!"

You raise an eyebrow in suspicion, because you swear this girl skips class like she's allergic to it. But you’re not going to complain about more free time with Wonyoung, especially if it gives you a free pass to get your hands all over this little brat—not that she needs yet another excuse to skip class. 

"Your studies should be a priority, princess."

"Some priorities are more important than others," she says, using a fingertip to wipe some syrup off the corner of your mouth before slowly sucking the tip of her finger clean. It's no accident how she drags it out, swirling her tongue around with a proud smirk as you watch in disbelief until she slips it out with an obscene pop of her lips. "And right now, daddy is my priority." 

This girl is unbelievable. 

Moments ago, Wonyoung was all sweet and innocent, planting these cute kisses on your cheek in a public display of affection that left your face blushing bright red. But now—that shy, innocent persona might as well be discarded entirely, a complete shift that has her becoming bolder in public, and you know she's not above sitting in your lap to make a statement. 

"Besides—Yujinnie has had too much time alone with daddy lately," Wonyoung reiterates as she shoves a strawberry into her mouth, like the idea of Yujin spending time with you is some type of criminal offense. "I deserve to have you all to myself for a while..."

"Needy little brat."

Wonyoung can't help but giggle quietly, her devious little grin widening as she adjusts her headband, staying mindful of her antics. “I’m daddy’s needy little brat.”

It's rather cute to see her jealous side slip out, how she gets so pouty at the mere mention of you giving Yujin more attention. You're pretty sure you could give Wonyoung all the attention in the world and it’d never be enough. 

So after Wonyoung scoots a little closer and offers you a sip of her coffee that you’re not enthusiastic about, you drink it only because she’s the one offering. But god, it's the most sugary sweet drink you've ever had, and you try not to grimace at how this must be nothing but pure sugar, a far cry from your own almost entirely bitter black coffee. (And to think, this girl used to despise anything with a modicum of sweetness.) 

One sip is enough to wake the dead, but you're not surprised given it's Wonyoung, and this must be the secret source of her boundless energy. You're just about done with your breakfast, left to watch her take more tiny little nibbles of food until there's nothing left on her plate. When she’s all done, those pouty lips wrap around her straw one last time, sucking down the remnants with an annoying, loud slurp that leaves some leftover whipped cream on her lower lip that’s licked clean in the most provocative way possible.

"Come on, daddy," she says, wiping her mouth clean with a napkin and inspecting herself in the makeup mirror before packing her things up. "We have all day ahead of us."

✦ ✦

Back in your apartment, the emptiness can’t be ignored with Yujin not around, leaving you almost missing the chaotic energy that exists when these two are in the same space. The only advantage of her absence is that you can focus all your attention on Wonyoung as she rests her head on your lap, looking up at you so contently while you stroke her hair. 

For once, she’s not glued to her phone while you bask in this rare moment where hardly a word is spoken between you two, nothing to break the tranquil atmosphere. 

It's perfect. 

You wonder how it’s possible that this girl can be simultaneously such a hassle to deal with and also make you feel so happy with her presence. The ultimate dichotomy in the form of Jang Wonyoung—endlessly infuriating at times, and absolutely charming at others. 

At least for now, you’ve got the best side of her. Those pretty eyes stare at you with adoration as you comb your fingers through her hair, appreciating each and every detail of her endless beauty. 

"So beautiful, princess…” you murmur without thinking, nearly regretful to interrupt the silence. Taken by surprise, Wonyoung’s eyes flutter open at the sound of your voice, a red tint coloring her cheeks as her lips curl into an embarrassed grin.

“What was that, daddy?"

"You're so pretty," you say, not wasting any time to repeat yourself, and you’ll do so a thousand times if it gets this adorable reaction out of her. 

It doesn't take much to flatter Wonyoung, who thrives on compliments and praise, no matter how small or simple. "You're absolutely gorgeous, princess."

Not often can you make her speechless, even for a mere moment—but while she stays close to your lap, it leaves her completely vulnerable, all flustered, while you play with her hair and appreciate such perfection. 

"Say it again, daddy."

Before you can do just that, you’ll let the moment linger, relishing in how you have Wonyoung melting at words alone. You're more than aware of how easily she’ll turn into a needy mess at the most basic of compliments, this absolute brat now so timid and shy that you don’t want to ruin the moment. 

"Say what?" 

"Say I'm pretty again," Wonyoung whines with her lips pouting, waiting for your response, and she’s so desperate for more affection, like she’ll die if you don’t give her another compliment. And even with that, you hesitate, because it’s seldom you can get the upper hand. So you keep the silence going for longer than necessary, unable to hide the smile on your face from showing through. 

"Jang Wonyoung is the prettiest princess,” you finally manage to say, and she giggles, because nothing can't hold back how this praise energizes her, turning her into an absolute puddle. 

“Prettier than Yujinnie?"

“Wonyoung—"

“Yes or no," she interrupts with a sigh, because Wonyoung isn't ever satisfied unless you acknowledge her being in the top spot. Everything has to be a competition and there's no one else that compares to her.

“I'm not answering that. You're both—“

"So, that's a yes.” 

There she goes again, always misinterpreting your answer to turn it into her favor. Wonyoung props herself up to sit right next to you, leaning over to press a quick kiss against your cheek. "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me, daddy."

You can’t even be that annoyed when she’s this cute, never straying far from that bratty, but lovable side coming out as she clambers onto your lap and shifts her hips to get comfortable. 

Once she sees the marks left from this morning on the side of your neck, Wonyoung can’t help but smile in satisfaction. This sense of pride when she knows you’re all hers. 

"Is this a good place to start, or do you want the bedroom?" Wonyoung asks out of nowhere, barely getting a breath out before she leans in close. 

"Start what?" you ask, again feigning ignorance with a raised brow, because there's no better way to get a rise out of Wonyoung. And falling for the bait so easily, she lets out the loudest huff—this exaggerated frown, lips formed into the perfect pout, followed by rolling her eyes. The trifecta of annoyance. 

"Daddy," she complains with an exaggerated whine, always upset over the littlest thing. 

You’re not dense to what she’s getting at (it’s always the same thing), but you’ll never give in right away. Not when you can so easily let it simmer. "You said you were going to play with me. So that means fucking me all over the apartment until we're tired and sore."

And there's that signature bluntness that Wonyoung is known for. 

It's almost a relief to hear this side of her again, because as enjoyable as the sweet and innocent part of her is—you know it never lasts long. There’s clearly a time limit on how long she can maintain it all before her brattiness slips back out. 

“Did I? Doesn’t sound like me.” 

You now understand why Wonyoung acts this way. Because when you can get under her skin, even in this playful way—it’s more fun than you like to admit. Addicting even, seeing her get all worked up over the littlest things. "I don't remember promising anything..."

She squirms on your lap in frustration, placing her hands on your shoulders as if to convince you with those pleading eyes that it's her right to get her way. Honestly, you don't know how she does this all the time—because just a solitary moment looking into her gaze makes you want to surrender without a fight. 

"You don't want me to take all my clothes off right now? So you can do whatever you want to me?"

So that’s how she’s going to play this. It's tempting, really tempting—and a bit unfair that Wonyoung can provoke you in ways no one could resist, putting that impeccable tight body as her strongest weapon against your defenses. This girl's a master manipulator, no thanks to Yujin teaching her all the ways of seduction, turning her cuteness against you. 

"Then I guess I'll just go take a nap in my room and leave daddy all alone..." There's about a zero percent chance Wonyoung follows up on that threat, but you'll play this game despite that. She knows you will. 

"That's too bad then. Guess I'll just go see Yujin. It's been a while since I've made her—“

“Daddy!" she whines, her mouth pulled into a full frown as she gives up this charade so easily, changing the subject on the spot. "I'm wearing pink today. Underneath all this. It’s brand new, daddy hasn’t even seen it yet. Aren’t you curious to see it?” 

You curse under your breath at how quickly you’re about to fold, because you’re already picturing this gorgeous girl showing off a matching set of sexy underwear that she’ll look so good in. Admittedly, you've got nothing to defend yourself—no good cards left, nothing up your sleeve, and Wonyoung hasn't even gone all in yet.

"Yujin helped me pick it out. It's all lacy and so cute—she said it makes my butt look amazing."

There's nothing more dangerous than that. These two vixens helping pick out something so deadly for each other with the sole intent to make you weak. No one could blame you for buckling under the pressure of wanting to see every bit of Wonyoung’s beautiful body, every inch of that creamy skin yours for the taking. 

You could drag this on, but really, there’s no point, because this girl will bat those eyes, pout those lips, and have you eating right out of the palm of her hand. So, per usual, you topple, without even putting up a real fight. “Fine. Show me, princess.” 

Once again, you’ve succumbed to her ways, and she can’t hide the triumphant smile that flashes across her face, not even a bit humble about her victory. Wonyoung leans in for a kiss, but this time you dodge her lips, instead lifting her up to carry her all the way up the stairs. She wraps her arms around your neck to hold on, giggling even more like it's a bigger accomplishment that she doesn't have to walk up the stairs, getting this princess treatment she absolutely doesn't deserve.

“Not your bedroom, daddy. Yujin’s.” 

Before you’ve even reached the end of the stairs, Wonyoung’s doling out commands, but you follow the detour without objection, changing course straight towards the open doorway right at the far end of the hall. 

Yujin’s bedroom. 

Inside, you don’t bother closing the door, only switching on the lights as you enter with the full intent of defiling it (which, to be fair, Yujin would do exactly the same to Wonyoung, given the chance). 

“Down, please,” is what you’ve been instructed after you give the room a once-over, walking right up to such an immaculately made bed, and deposit Wonyoung not so gently against the firm mattress. The entire room smells so unmistakably like Yujin, as if she left moments ago without you noticing, an aroma that's not going to last much longer with the plans you both have. 

Wonyoung stretches her arms out, getting far too comfortable and almost content to just lie there while your gaze wanders around the room. There's a sense of familiarity walking in here, and the place is well kept, unsurprisingly, with you knowing exactly what’s in every nook and cranny. Normally, you'll see Yujin's laptop sitting on her desk, or on the bed while she lets you distract her from schoolwork by burying your tongue in her ass, because what are those short shorts for other than an invitation to do just that? 

The nightstand drawer consistently holds the same items (hint, one of them is fuzzy, pink, and always gets used on you more times than you care to count), and the closet mirror is seldom used to fix herself in the morning. Instead, the poor thing is only useful for two reasons: watching the view of Yujin's tight ass when she's on her knees, taking your cock so deep in her throat, or your personal favorite—the reflection of herself as you slam that sinful body up against it.

“Aren’t you going to join me?” Wonyoung asks, breaking your concentration as she reaches out for your hand. Before you agree, you remain steadfast at the foot of the bed, arms folded, watching the anticipation building in her eyes. 

“Am I? Weren’t you going to do something for me?” 

It’s the whole reason you two left the couch in the first place, right? The promise of something meticulously picked out that this girl is supposed to model for you, and yet, Wonyoung doesn't move a muscle while your collective stubbornness clashes. 

"Not until you come here, daddy."

Sigh. 

Because of course she can't do something so simple without a negotiation. No, it has to be you who caves in first and climbs onto the bed, with no energy to argue about if it gives you a closer look at this supposed little show that Wonyoung is about to put on. Without another word, she pushes you onto your back and straddles your lap, giving you one more look at her in this cute little white miniskirt and matching shirt ensemble that won't stay on for much longer.

You’re surprised at what comes next, expecting more of a challenge, that you’ll have to do something to earn this illustrious reveal. But then again—Wonyoung wants to show herself off, and nothing will get in the way of that.  

So, without any pause, her delicate fingers pop each button open, revealing a hint of beautiful pink lace. And your eyes are right where she wants them, but before your hands get a moment to be greedy, she stops you, catching a wrist. 

“Nuh-uh, daddy. No touching. Just watch.” 

Wonyoung gives back a smug smirk at giving you guidelines to obey, knowing how difficult it'll be for you to just sit back and enjoy. She continues where she left off, flinging the shirt off her shoulders to expose this pretty bra that's more than met expectations. 

“What do you think, daddy?” Of course, it looks amazing on her, showing off those cute perky tits, and that flawless porcelain skin that you can’t wait to get your hands on. 

"Not sure. Think I need to see the rest before I can decide."

Wonyoung isn’t even a little surprised at that answer, already unzipping her skirt to give more of herself away. She wiggles her hips to take it off her body, all the way down those shapely, endless legs. With nothing left in the way, you've got the best view of this matching set of pink lingerie that hugs her petite frame so perfectly, one that’s so skimpy, yet so ravishing at the same time. 

A simple wow is all you can manage, left nearly speechless, and you haven't even seen the much anticipated angle of that cute little butt that no doubt looks spectacular. Clearly, Yujin knew what she was doing. 

"You like it, daddy?" Wonyoung asks, already so sure of your answer when she grabs your hands to place them on her body. And that’s all you need when she gives permission to touch her to your heart’s desire, to run your fingertips up her toned stomach, right up to her chest, squeezing those perky little tits with all the greed she encourages. 

“Love it. Pink looks so good on you, princess.” 

The more you explore her flawless body, the more she squirms from the attention, desperate to take it all in as your hands touch and grope wherever they please. She simply melts at the attention, but you’re not done yet, waiting until the perfect moment to take two handfuls of that tight ass, unable to resist digging your fingers right in to squeeze tightly, getting a needy little gasp right out of her. 

"Only good?" she pouts, aching for more praise, more validation, and even while she knows how good she looks, she'll simply die without hearing it from your own lips. You kiss her, moving hair out of the way before breathing hot air right next to her ear when you bring your mouth there. 

“My princess looks so pretty, so goddamn sexy, so delicious—can’t take my eyes off you Jang Wonyoung. Can’t wait to taste you all.” It's not quite enough to satiate her ego, but the flattery does a number on her. Any cute little giggles that spill out do so unrestrained while you shower her in all the compliments she craves—that she deserves. 

Yet before you do anything, Wonyoung leans over to you with a beaming smile as she takes hold of your shirt and starts tugging, eager to get you out of these clothes. 

"But I wanna taste daddy first,” she says rather blatantly, working to get the garment up and over your head, stripping it off you in a few short seconds. She loves this, admiring your chest that she’ll spend an entire morning worshiping, kissing, biting, tracing her initials over your abdomen, whatever she chooses—

"Daddy can stare at me all he wants while I suck his cock..."

The thought of getting that pretty warm mouth on you is too good of a treat to resist, especially when Wonyoung is demanding so nicely, acting unusually sweet as she covers your chest with seemingly endless kisses. But soon, that interest wanes when the lust consumes her, unable to hide her desires while she trails further down, nibbling and biting her way further south.

"Whatever you want, princess. I’m all yours." 

“Don’t forget that.” Wonyoung's already snuck the belt from its confines, unbuckling it quickly as possible, trying so hard to mask the urgency that’s guiding her delicate fingers. Without words, she’s going straight for that craving—to taste you, to feel your length on her tongue, and by the time you realize you’ve been left only clad in your underwear, there’s no slowing her down. 

Not that you’d ever want to. 

Wonyoung continues on her mission to strip everything off—yanking at the elastic band to force your boxers down without warning. 

No longer held back, you're fully exposed before this ravenous girl, as Wonyoung licks her lips while admiring your shaft, salivating just a little too noticeably at the sight of her favorite thing in the world. 

"Daddy has such a beautiful cock. Missed it so much, missed how it fills my throat,” she says, and her hands find your thighs, palms stroking firmly up and down while she lays down onto her stomach to get that much closer. 

Her warm breath fans over your balls when she inches close enough, unable to help herself as she leaves kisses right at your base. Wonyoung giggles, smiling prettily before her tongue finally makes its presence known as she swirls around your cockhead in tight, slow circles, moaning a little with just a small taste of you.

She takes a small breath, looking up through those lashes that she’ll bat to get her way—but it isn’t necessary here, because Wonyoung is already where she needs to be. “Gonna make daddy feel so good, better than Yujin ever could.” 

The only response that leaves your lips is a low groan when her lips press a single kiss along the length, taking her sweet time to drag this on for longer than it needed to be. Her tongue immediately proves her point as she takes a long lick, then just like that—her plump lips part to take you, engulfing your swollen cockhead inside the wet heat of her mouth.

You groan with pleasure, resting comfortably against the sheets, and watch how Wonyoung goes to work on this already achingly stiff cock, fueled by lust and greed. She sucks so tightly around the head, not one bit in a hurry, and her mouth creates such a perfect suction around your sensitive tip. As you enjoy the visual, her lips slide down an extra inch or two before rising back up again, establishing a nice, slow pace to start this off, not willing to spoil herself just yet. 

That pretty fucking mouth—it’s your biggest weakness. This pleasure is not just for you, but for Wonyoung, who loves hearing your moans, the low curses, the growls, anything she can pull out of your lips.

The moment you disappear past her lips, she doesn't waste another moment. Wonyoung lowers, mouth sliding a little further, too impatient to wait, surrounding more of that shaft with her silky lips.

“Princess—“ 

Once again, you're completely at her mercy, drowning in anticipation. As those lips go deeper, she takes half your length, slowly bobbing her head to get reacquainted with this wonderful taste. Her warm, slick mouth works you over so expertly, tongue gliding along the underside of your cock to lavish everything it touches. 

The perfect rhythm, those pretty eyes gazing at your reaction—this is all so formulaic, and yet each time still feels as divine as the last. Your tip presses right at the entrance of her throat as Wonyoung dares herself to test her limits, but that gag reflex rudely interrupts. 

The strong grip on your thighs keeps her steady, but she backs out rather quickly, leaving a glistening trail behind as she pops off, gasping lightly from the temporary intrusion. “I’ll take you all down, I promise.” 

She lets out a content sigh, placing more loving, wet kisses on either side of your cock before her mouth dives back down. Determined to swallow you all up to the base, Wonyoung does so with relative ease, her throat relaxing, welcoming it all in. Inch by inch, she conquers your length, taking that thick cock until her nose nestles at your stomach—every throbbing part in the warm depths of her throat, buried right where it belongs. 

“Ah fuck—“

If only Yujin could walk in right now and see her at work, on her own bed no less. She’d be more proud above all else, despite finding something wrong with her technique. 

Wonyoung's gone well above and beyond, taking in every last inch at this point, more than a little eager at getting so messy when her drool runs down your cock. She’s absolutely starved for it all. She’ll do whatever she can to keep those moans going as she pins your hips down to the mattress, delivering pleasure like no one else can. These long strokes down her throat that get you all delirious. 

“Just like that, fuck—keep that pretty fucking mouth right there,” you demand, and when you reach for the top of her head to press her down, Wonyoung doesn't push away—only giving you everything needed to hold her there for as long as you want.

Wonyoung is more than willing to let you choke her with your cock, favoring your length stuffed down her throat over everything else. The only sounds out of her besides the constant gurgle of spit, are the pitiful, desperate, yet grateful little moans, maintaining all this eye contact despite how many times your throbbing cock presses deep into the back of her throat.

Those teary eyes, they watch intently, because this is what gets her off the most, expertly sucking cock while the faces you're making encourages her all the more. It's a sight to behold, how she gets between your legs, devotedly sucking your dick as if nothing else matters to her.

It’s an art form really, how Wonyoung can wring out so much pleasure like she has something new to prove. 

But for a moment, those pretty hands take the lead while her mouth rests. One strokes you with those slender fingers so vigorously, spitting all over your length to rub it all in, while the other plays with your balls, testing how full she’s made them. 

It’s not out of the ordinary to sneak a quick handjob in the morning while Yujin is still fast asleep besides you, so in need of claiming your first orgasm in the morning before you’ve even left the sheets. 

But getting this glorious blowjob, there isn't anything quite like the warmth of her throat, even as the need to please you clashes with the gag reflex that she tries to overcome. In all honestly, you like hearing this struggle, the way Wonyoung chokes and gags on your length while putting your pleasure first, eyes watering, but never failing to give your cock exactly what it demands. 

“That’s it, choke on that fucking cock, god, princess—“ And she listens so obediently, holding you there for a moment longer until she doesn’t—retreating all too suddenly, letting your shaft throb freely when it slips from between her lips.

"Tell me how good I am first, daddy. Tell me how good I am at sucking your cock and I'll keep this in my mouth,” Wonyoung responds after backing off, gasping as she does so, drool running down her chin. “I’ll get my lips right down to your balls and get you off so fucking hard…”

Wonyoung always knows the worst time to get demanding, the perfect time to tease when she knows you need it the most, yearning for the touch of her mouth, ready to do whatever she asks. Before you get another word in, she’s covering your cock in slow, heavy kisses, a barrage to add to her saliva so she can savor you with her pretty lips. 

There’s no use hiding your desperation as she continues these noisy, open-mouthed kisses all the way down to your balls and back up again, while your tip remains swollen, unattended to, aching for those pillowy lips again.

"Princess, need that pretty mouth back on me right now. Need it so bad, back where it belongs—" you plead, but this doesn't dissuade her one bit as she keeps taunting you, with her mouth that refuses to wrap fully back around the head of your cock. 

"You didn't even tell me what I wanted. Not gonna do anything else until I get what I want, daddy."

Once again, she needs that satisfaction like oxygen, needs to hear the words falling out of your mouth while she lies there motionless, waiting and ready. Wonyoung wears a look of impatience, falling back into that wicked smirk while her lips part just the tiniest bit more, brushing teasingly close to your dick. "God, your mouth, princess—it's so perfect, and those fucking lips, love how they look wrapped around my cock." 

Her hot, heavy breath is all you’re getting for now until you give in, until you meet the exact quota of praise she craves. "Tell me I'm better than Yujin. Tell me I make you cum harder, tell me, daddy."

"Princess, stop—"

"No, daddy, tell me. You know I suck your cock the best. All you have to do is say it. Tell me how much better my mouth feels, how much you prefer me swallowing your cum over Yujin.”

It's all part of this devilish game that she loves to play, making it worse by blowing warm air right over the tip, those swollen, red lips getting within kissing distance before pulling away without the slightest brush. You know she's just dying to take you back into her mouth again, but she’ll tease you forever if you don’t give her the right answer.

You give a heavy sigh in defeat. There's no fighting against this brat, not when you’re so rock fucking hard. “You’re the absolute best, princess. Nobody sucks dick better than you—not even Yujin. Your mouth is better, and nobody can make me cum like you can.” 

“Wasn’t that easy? I knew you loved my mouth more,” Wonyoung says, hearing just what she needs to hear, and finally, those sweet lips find their rightful place, easing the frustration you've dealt with. They part with ease, swallowing down your length in one movement, and then it’s an endless repetition of her warm mouth down to your base. 

Wonyoung keeps you buried inside her throat, wanting to choke on you longer than the previous attempt. Her eyes water a little more every time her nose nudges against your abdomen. 

This momentum keeps going, a combination of that intense suction, the messy sounds from slobbering everywhere, and the incredible warmth—everything mixes so perfectly, and even better, the look in her eyes when your dick is so far down her throat.

“Fuck, your mouth, it feels so good, so goddamn good, love when you choke on my cock like this.“ 

“Don’t worry, daddy, not gonna stop, gonna choke on this thick cock until you cum down my fucking throat. Need my tummy so full.” 

It’s rather indulgent for both of you; Wonyoung, who loves slobbering on your length as much as you love hearing all her obscene slurps, and the feeling of those silky soft lips sliding so wonderfully down your shaft, taking you so, so deep. You’re fighting the temptation to take over, to fuck her face so roughly until that makeup she spends so long on is all ruined, because this is her show—you’re just here to enjoy it. 

When the pace starts to falter, she lets your cock slip out of her mouth to focus on your balls, drawing each one into her hot mouth, to give some much needed attention. 

Wonyoung loves taking turns between worshiping your length and those balls, so full of your delicious load she can't wait for, tasting and fondling them to her heart's desire. Her pretty little hands still pump around your shaft when her lips aren't surrounding you, and that hungry little mouth keeps slurping wherever she can, making such loud, obscenely wet noises.

“Mmmph, fuck, daddy—your balls feel so nice and heavy. So full of cum all ready for me to drain, aren’t they?” 

It’s beyond pornographic how Wonyoung devours every part of you, and she��s not done giving you all the pleasure you can handle, not until her tongue moves down lower past your balls, traveling where it doesn’t typically go. You have no use for words, just heavy breaths, reacting almost involuntarily as her tongue swirls against your asshole, flicking against that most sensitive, tight opening.

“Jesus, fuck, Wony—“ 

It’s quite unexpected, but no less welcome, the way that wet, wonderful tongue stimulates you in ways that make your head spin. She's dedicated to this, keeping a hand wrapped around your cock while her mouth is busy, making you feel a rush of pleasure like no other, rimming your ass without an ounce of shame.

You can see her entire grin between licks, and her focus lies with pleasuring your asshole, slobbering and working the tip of her tongue at such a gentle speed, easing in all this pleasure. And somehow, this is a level of vulnerability that's unfamiliar, leaving you overwhelmed by escalating bliss when Wonyoung goes as far as burying her tongue inside your ass, delving as deep as possible. "Yujinnie said you loved this, daddy.”

And god, she’s never been so right. 

You’re utterly at Wonyoung’s mercy while she laps at your asshole with her tongue, occasionally pulling away to lick at your balls. All in addition to her hand pleasuring your shaft, not leaving any part of you neglected. 

It’s every bit unfair that her tongue feels so good against this unexplored area, your nerves going wild. Because it’s not enough that she’s great at giving head and riding your dick. She has to be so good at something only Yujin only does, your body nothing but receptive to pleasure that's reducing you to a mess faster than you'd care to admit.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise, really, that this girl can eat ass like a pro. You’ve seen her go to town on Yujin dozens of times, either to get all prepped to take a pounding in her ass or because she absolutely loves doing it. But this—this pleasure has no right being so good, so sinfully indulgent. Wonyoung just has to show off her expertise, that she’s good even at this, her tongue making a complete meal out of your ass.

And from now on, you’ll have to make sure Wonyoung includes this in her oral repertoire, because that bratty mouth is capable of far more than just complaining. 

She works your cock faster while her mouth stays occupied with your asshole, giving more bliss than you know how to handle. Each and every stroke keeps you so painfully hard in her firm grip, her tongue shoved so deep, immersed in this ass licking that steals all these moans out of you, that even Yujin would be speechless. 

If you're not careful, you’ll explode in no time—but Wonyoung knows exactly how far to push this when you're getting on the edge, knowing full well when to pull back so she can go right back to sucking you off, because that's the only way she wants this huge load. 

So rather regretfully (or maybe thankfully), you’re given a break from this wonderful tonguefuck, with no hopes of trying to collect yourself. Then, without further warning, Wonyoung takes your cock down her throat, all in one motion, like it was never a struggle from the beginning. 

"Princess, wait—" 

Your poor dick can't take much more, leaking so much, throbbing so hard—but more than anything, you feel the need to reciprocate, after Wonyoung giving a whole new level of pleasure. "Need to taste you. Need that pretty little cunt in my mouth right now."

As usual, there's a pout that leaves her lips when she's so clearly disappointed, hating the thought of losing her favorite treat. But there's no need to stop what she's so focused on doing when you, in fact, can still return the favor—at the same time.

"Come over here,” you beckon over with a finger, and it doesn’t take long for Wonyoung to crawl up the bed, piecing together the puzzle of what comes next. 

Her pout suddenly disappears while you tug at the waistband of her pretty panties, and she gets the message loud and clear, slowly turning around so you can see what the pink lace hardly hides beneath—a perfect, tight ass that looks devastatingly good in lingerie. But it's not an image you get to savor for long as she peels it down and flings it off somewhere across the bedroom, bringing her pussy and those pale cheeks back right where you need them: facing your hungry, depraved stare, showing off everything.

There's something unbelievably satisfying about having this view—even better when you pull her body closer to let her straddle your face, ready to lose yourself in this absolute feast right above you.

“Daddy…“ Not another word leaves your mouth as you dive in between her thighs, your tongue grazing those slick folds to lap at her needy cunt. When those pillowy cheeks press right against your face, that’s when the real treat starts, all for you to enjoy as your tongue explores her warmth. You're devouring Wonyoung from the start, straight for those soaked lips to get your tongue all over her slit, exploring with vigorous licks to drink up her arousal and spread her mess everywhere in the process.

“Oh god, daddy,” Wonyoung squeals, before that devilish mouth gets occupied by something far better, moaning over your cock, somehow holding back as much as she can while you lose yourself. She’s in utter bliss as you eat her out, and you keep a firm grasp on her taut buttcheeks, spreading them open to keep your tongue buried inside her wet cunt while you work your way up towards her sensitive clit.

She isn't going to let herself get distracted either, picking up right where she left off, drooling all over your dick in between messy slurps. Nothing gets her more excited than pleasing you, moaning for the thick cock that she needs in the back of her throat, the taste that she can’t go without.

"Fuck, princess," you manage between heavy breaths, trying to keep an even, slow pace with your tongue. A near impossible task, so lost in how amazing her mouth is on your dick, savoring every second her arousal coats your lips. “You taste so damn good. God, I could eat your pussy like this for hours.” 

"And I could keep sucking daddy off for even longer—" she retorts, not breaking the pace of this sloppy suction that sounds almost as good as it feels. 

While Wonyoung doesn’t let up with her oral assault, you're intent on playing with her clit, circling it with the flat of your tongue and flicking without any proper direction, slurping so harshly when it’s between your lips. You’re just trying to survive that warm mouth whenever she swallows you down, finding the only distraction is to bury your face in her slick heat.

It really doesn't get better than this. 

You’re making an absolute mess between her legs, and in exchange she’s treating your shaft so well, bobbing her pretty head to get your length down, to take in every single inch she can get.

"Daddy—" she sighs between licking her own saliva off your cock,  and takes these shallow breaths that are anything but steady. Wonyoung can barely keep it together. All these frantic licks you give her needy clit make her moan so desperately against your throbbing shaft when you do so, downright devouring her cunt. 

“That feels so fucking good—you're so good with your tongue, daddy, please don't stop—"

Like you can hardly think of anything else but eating Wonyoung’s delicious pussy, your new purpose in life only to drive her wild and keep all these juices flowing. There's absolutely nothing you'd rather have right now but your tongue prodding so deep inside this pretty sopping hole.

The mere noises she makes while you’re teasing and slurping on her cunt is a reward on its own. The most adorable whimpers and whines always slip out whenever your tongue enters her wetness, no matter how hard she tries to hold them back.

"Daddy, oh my fucking god—" Wonyoung keeps rocking her hips, barely able to do anything but pump your cock in her hand while she selfishly grinds her dripping cunt right on your face. "You’re gonna make me cum if you keep fucking doing that."

That’s exactly where you need her. You can taste exactly how close she is—so close—from her juices flooding your tongue, and that only makes you more driven to push her over that edge, licking, sucking, doing all that's needed to have Wonyoung make a mess all over your face. Her hips can't stop moving, so desperate for friction, so, so desperate for release, whimpering and begging all while she rides your face and chokes her moans on your cock.

You do everything you can to get her to the end, tongue lapping up all the nectar that spills from her pussy, so ravenous to taste all those delectable juices flooding your mouth. She’s equally eager and enthusiastic to take in more than she should, to make a sloppy mess of your shaft, trying her hardest to take you to the hilt while utterly lost in euphoria.

“Almost there—“ she gasps out, and her hot breath spurs on your efforts when she swallows you right down to your balls, the one last thing that sets her off. With a muffled cry against your cock, Wonyoung shakes so hard from your tongue buried deep inside, and her arousal gushes out for you to swallow eagerly, her creamy thighs violently trembling over you while you savor this mess. 

It’s a high so intense that it seems endless, lingering while you lick her through it to ride it all out, almost to the point of a second one right after. Once Wonyoung recovers some of her composure, all that attention goes right back to your cock—holding your hips tight, so she can fuck her face on you so vigorously, barely able to keep up as she attempts to finish you off. 

"Jesus, that throat feels so fucking good, princess, fuck—"

And god, you have no chance to fight back when your cock gets so submerged down Wonyoung’s throat, all the warmth that engulfs, her face between your legs so desperate to drain your balls. 

All you can do is surrender to the pleasure as her ravenous mouth takes over, her throat enticingly guiding you towards that edge. You're beyond capable of articulating anything other than needy groans, not with how Wonyoung's gagging on your length with no regard whatsoever for anything but making sure you unload deep in her mouth.

She doesn’t relent one bit through all this sloppiness, her wet throat choking around the entirety of your shaft to urge your orgasm out. Wonyoung knows a huge, creamy load is building inside of you, and she’ll do whatever it takes to milk it out. You’re not done on your end either, tongue back on her oversensitive clit, licking with so much endless fervor to get another messy release out of her right along with yours. 

“Down my throat, daddy, right now,” she urges, right before another toe-curling orgasm rocks her right against your face. By this point, you're ready to follow right behind, groaning heavily as she keeps sputtering and gagging with only one purpose, to guzzle this inevitable load right down her throat.

“Princess—“

Wonyoung’s a master at what’s next—before you can fully process it, your shaft is buried down her throat, violently pulsating as she squeezes your balls tight, forcing all of your cum right down the back of her throat. 

You've got a grip on her ass as tight as you can brace yourself while she draws that load out, greedily swallowing as much hot seed as her pretty little mouth can handle. Wonyoung guzzles it down with nothing but pride, even what overflows down to your balls, emptying everything you’ve got straight into her stomach as if she's been waiting all day for a load like this. 

Nothing escapes—not when she keeps you stuffed down her throat, keeping you throbbing far long after you’ve been drained, taking every drop that’s earned. 

In the wake of it all, when she’s done her job and your balls have been completely emptied, you’re left a sweaty, panting mess, drowning in euphoric bliss while you stay in her throat.

Because nobody can make you cum like Wonyoung’s mouth can. 

But she’s not done—it’s pure greed, even when your cock is all sore and sensitive, she keeps going, licking up the length of your shaft to clean up anything she may have missed. Wonyoung knows you'll need a moment, that it's not like your balls could produce any more cum so soon after such an intensive explosion in her mouth. Yet, she's definitely not about to let that stop her from trying to milk another thick load, using every method at her disposal to get your overstimulated dick to yield a reward from those swollen balls. 

(No doubt, she learned that from Yujin, because they both have a knack for draining you like it’s essential to their survival.)

It’s a torturous mixture of painful pleasure, when her mouth gets back on you, slow and steady, every motion a reminder that your poor, oversensitive shaft can't take anything else. Yet, you have trouble getting any words out, struggling to put together a proper sentence to protest. 

"Ah, fuck, princess, wait—"

She keeps swallowing you all up for several more slurps, until her hot mouth releases your cock with a wet, loud pop, flicking at your slit for a moment longer just to drive you crazy. And while you're too obstructed by Wonyoung's wet cunt to see what's going on, you know there's a sinister little smirk at the other end. "Too sensitive, daddy?" 

You groan out something that resembles an answer—not that Wonyoung didn’t already know before you've opened your mouth, but that doesn't mean she’ll stop her magic on your dick that's far too sore for a second orgasm anytime soon.

So, she keeps a tight grip, letting this contradictory form of bliss linger as her soft hands caress the entire length of your aching cock. There are no doubts about how sensitive you are, and yet—she wants to get one more load out of you, somehow, thumbing over your swollen tip just to hear how helpless you'll sound in a moment of vulnerability. 

"Fine, daddy. We'll do something else,” she says with a disappointed sigh. For now, Wonyoung plans on leaving your cock alone, so that your sensitive length can recover for her next pounding. Instead, she mounts your chest with that alluring look on her face to kiss you, tasting herself on your lips. 

"Let's see what Yujin keeps around here…“ 

When you lose the comforting weight of her petite body, you barely have time to figure out what that means when Wonyoung looks around in search of anything that could aid in this mission of making you cum once again. She scrounges around the room like a detective on the hunt for clues, digging through drawers, closets, anywhere someone curious might look until—

"Ooh, what's this?"

You’re still in recovery mode, and from your point of view, all you can see is Wonyoung finding something underneath the bed—a rather large black box that’s surprisingly discreet, given what must be inside. She hoists it onto the mattress with a puzzled look on her face, running her thumb over something in the front. "It's locked. Needs a code, daddy."

At first, you think she's joking, but when she passes you the box, you immediately notice that yes, there's a simple four-digit dial presumably holding the entire thing shut. What surprises you the most isn't that it's here, but that it's locked in the first place—there's hardly any secrets kept between you three, spending half the time all sweaty and naked together, sharing just about every moment there is with each other. But the more you think about it—the more you realize this is less a box of secrets and more... a surprise.

"Oh, wait. I know, it must be daddy's birthday." Surely, it can't be that easy, that there has to be at least a little challenge to figure it out—but before you can even finish your thought, you hear the click of the lock as it opens up. "Oh, look at that. I'm a genius."

You'll let her have this moment of glory, trying not to roll your eyes as Wonyoung flips the lid open and peers inside. She gives a dramatic gasp and runs a finger over the velvety interior before digging through what appears to be an arsenal of sex toys: handcuffs, rope, blindfolds, various paddles, plugs, and several things you don't even know the purpose of. But there's something at the very bottom that grabs her attention the most, and Wonyoung removes a pink leather collar, one that has the word 'Brat' inscribed in rhinestones on the front, dangling a metal ring in the center. 

"Looks like that's for you," she teases, examining the collar and how it couldn't be anymore perfectly tailored to her as she looks through the rest of the box for anything of note. Of course, there's a plethora of fun in there, but nothing you really haven't seen before, nothing that you or Yujin haven't used on Wonyoung at this point. 

"Let's see how this looks on me."

Unsurprisingly, it fits Wonyoung just right as she fastens the collar around her neck, playing with the ring as she proudly shows it off. "Pretty, right?" 

It's more than pretty, seeing the light pink against Wonyoung's delicate pale skin as it's now firmly wrapped around her neck, the color matching her discarded thong that's long forgotten somewhere on the bedroom floor. "Not bad."

"Not bad?" she huffs, annoyed that you can't be more impressed, even more offended that you haven’t given her a barrage of compliments. "Ugh, fine. I know how I can make it look better."

Suddenly, Wonyoung kneels on the mattress, unhooking her lace bra in a swift, graceful movement to give you a glorious view of her body on full display. All that milky skin, her perky tits with those pretty nipples, but now your attention is fully directed on the leather wrapped around her neck as she lies down and spreads her legs so invitingly. "How about now? Isn’t this where a brat is supposed to be? On my back, legs spread, all ready to serve?" 

"Since when are you so obedient?"

"Never. I'm just letting you think I am."

Despite what she says, Wonyoung always demands to be manhandled by either you, or Yujin (or both). Labeling her a brat is an understatement; she relishes in provoking you, yet equally revels in the consequences and punishment she rightfully deserves.

As she's self proclaimed—Wonyoung isn't a good girl. 

You look through the box of toys one more time before moving it over to the nightstand, just in case you'll need it later. Upon your return, you straddle her petite, pretty body, staring her down for a moment, letting the anticipation build while you decide on where to start. "Princess—"

"Yes, daddy?"

She looks so good like this, completely naked underneath you that there’s no shortage of options for how you can toy with her body. "What should I do with you?"

"Whatever daddy wants." 

That's too simple of an answer. You've got plenty of ideas swirling around in your head, most of them involving leaving this bratty girl a whimpering mess by the end of it all. And yet, it's so hard to pinpoint exactly where to start. "That's boring, princess. Don't make me choose."

She pretends to think long and hard about it, as if there's anything she wants other than to be completely ruined—the usual treatment. "Dunno. Surprise me, daddy."

That doesn't exactly help, but when has she ever cooperated in any meaningful way? But if Wonyoung wants to be surprised—then you'll do just that and oblige her. 

"What color?" you ask, offering no further explanation. 

"What color for what?" Wonyoung asks, tilting her head slightly in confusion. You give no further details. 

"Just answer the question, princess." 

Wonyoung's not oblivious to what possibilities lie before her, but still hesitates to give anything substantial. "Hmm, well this is pink… so that means I should pick something else doesn't it?" 

Of course, never straight to the point with her, nor willing to offer a simple answer. It's exactly what you should expect from Wonyoung, and god knows she'll drag this out if you really let her. But if she wants to keep stalling, you'll just end up picking for her. "Do I have to specify every fucking thing I ask you, brat?" 

She's certainly earned that title. 

"Blue, I guess." It sounds indifferent, just answering to get you to stop asking—but this is Wonyoung, you have to remind yourself, who’ll spend an hour in her closet trying to decide which one of twelve different pairs of shoes that all look the exact fucking same she wants. "No, red. I want red." 

Again, never a straight fucking answer out of her, like you've given her the most difficult decision in her life. "Are you sure about that, princess?" 

She doesn't even answer at first, Wonyoung doing everything in her power to protest even the littlest thing, making sure you don’t forget the word that’s etched across her collar. "I said I wanted red, daddy."

That fucking attitude never ceases to show up when it's least welcome. Normally, you'll fight it right away, but this one time you just let it slide, which seems to only make matters worse, as if you’ve insulted her by doing so. “Okay then. That's your choice.”

Then there's just silence filling the room while you have this stare down with Wonyoung, waiting to see who'll back down first. It's definitely not going to be you. The tension builds without anyone saying a word, and it's clear neither of you have any plans to back down or concede. In fact, her bratty little glare grows with intensity until—

"Arms up, princess."

There's no telling how this will go, but you have a suspicion that it’ll end up the same exact way. You're sure today won't be any exception. "Sorry? Didn't hear that, daddy." 

"I said—arms up. Brat. I'm not going to ask again."

Judging by that arrogant little smirk on her face, you know Wonyoung heard you the first time. And it’s exactly what you expect as a response. 

Without warning, you seize each of her dainty wrists, stretching both arms over her head to pin them against the pillows. That's when you go for the box on the nightstand, finding exactly what you need in no time—a long bundle of red rope that's perfect for tying up an uncooperative brat.

Taking one more look at the nightstand, you’re tempted to find something to silence that fucking mouth—then again, you’d never miss a chance to hear her beg for more, or those pretty little moans that'll slip out when she's absolutely lost in bliss. So, instead you're settling for this, winding the rope around Wonyoung's wrists to bind them together, tight and secure, forcing her arms to remain up and out of the way. 

"Much better. Must you be so difficult? Disobedient little slut." 

Her eyes gleam at the harsh words, a low whimper falling from her parted lips. Once the rope is secured and tied in a tight knot, there's no escape. Despite that, you go the extra mile just to be sure the binds won't come loose so easily. "But daddy likes it that way, doesn't he?"

You can't exactly deny any of those words. 

She's doing this for your benefit equally as much as to annoy you. And you can't say you don't enjoy putting Wonyoung in her place, especially when this is the end result—bound and spread out all for you, helpless and at your complete mercy. 

"Fucking brat. You think I like having to do this? All this extra effort?"

"Uh-huh. Daddy loves tying me all up so I can't escape, so he can use me how he wants." Wonyoung starts squirming a bit in her tight restraints before raising her hips, giving a sinful view of her wet, dripping cunt that looks oh so enticing. "And since I'm such an unruly, disobedient little slut—" 

Your expectant gaze wanders right between her pretty thighs, looking long and hard at those plump pussy lips that make your mouth water, so desperate to sink your cock straight into that wet, tight cunt. Wonyoung can't hide her satisfaction either of being restrained like this, relishing the feeling of being trapped, completely at your mercy, unable to move without your help. "Daddy's gonna have to make me behave..."

"Oh, don't you fucking worry about that." The threat comes with a guarantee as you spread Wonyoung's thighs further apart, getting a closeup look at all her drenched flesh covered with arousal in the process, just waiting to be used. It makes your cock ache. “Daddy’s gonna fuck the brat out of you.” 

Wonyoung tries to close her thighs shut at the thought of that, already so fucking wet and needy, but you’re not having it. Her pretty cunt practically screams to be filled, while you open those creamy thighs back up that feel so hot against your palms when you run your hands across them.

"I'm so ready to be all stretched out by your big, throbbing cock." It's hardly subtle, those depraved words spilled out so breathlessly that it drives you crazy—not even sure which of you needs this more, her or you. "Fill me all the way up, daddy."

Now that you've got her like this, completely at your whims, you've got time on your side to really tease Wonyoung to her wit’s end. "Got a better idea. Maybe I'll use one of these toys Yujin left us. That's what they're for, isn't it? So many to choose from, I can take my time…” 

She shakes her head a bit, not liking what she’s hearing one bit. "No, daddy, please. These toys aren't as good as your amazing cock. They can't pump a big load inside my pussy like you can."

Her demeanor changes so quickly, a flick of a switch how her tone softens now that the threat of denial is looming over her head. You have Wonyoung right where you want her, and how much effort she’s going to put in to earn your cock—well, that all depends on her. 

“Daddy's poor balls must be aching. They look so full and heavy—they need emptying again, don't they? Don't you wanna dump a massive load inside my pussy?" 

She's too good at this, at trying to tempt you with words alone. There's no denying how well it's working, getting you so fucking hard, with this urge rising and building inside you. But you can't falter, not yet, not when you're pulling all the desperation out of Wonyoung with so much more to go. 

"Who said anything about dumping a load inside you? I've got you to myself right here. When I’m done, I can just jerk myself off all over your pretty naked body. Maybe even leave you all tied up here for Yujin to play with after. This is her room, after all." 

"Daddy, no! That's not fair. You're supposed to use me. And fill me up with cum. That's what I'm here for. To be your pretty little cum dump. Then to keep your dick all nice and warm after..." 

How cute, how she tries to guilt you in to letting her get what she wants. Shameless doesn't even begin to describe Wonyoung, but that’s precisely what makes this so fun to deny her. "Or—I could just fuck Yujin right here. On her bed. Right in front of you. She loves my cock just as much as you, doesn't she? Maybe even more. What if I emptied my balls into her instead?"

"Daddy wouldn't dare." 

"Wouldn't I? Yujin wouldn’t have any trouble riding me while we make you watch, not touching you. Make sure I only fill her up. You enjoy watching us fuck all the time already. Why is this any different? Maybe we'll keep your pretty pussy untouched for the rest of the weekend. I’ll just let her cum on my cock over and over until we tire out…"

More than anything, the idea of going any length of time without your cock inside Wonyoung seems to rile her up the most, hitting all the right nerves that get exactly the reaction you want out of her. 

"Daddy wouldn't be able to go through with that. You love my pussy way too much," she pouts, clearly getting frustrated at all your empty promises. "I'm the prettiest and the tightest. Don't you remember the first time you came inside me? How much cum you emptied? No way daddy can't go a whole day without this tight little pussy wrapped around your big, perfect cock..."

Oh, she knows better. Wonyoung knows perfectly well how this need is mutual, how little either of you can go without getting some relief, finding any excuse to fuck. Better yet, there's nothing Yujin would love more than that—you flooding her cunt with an endless amount of cum while this poor girl stays all tied up, only able to watch from the sidelines. But neither of you are actually that cruel, as fun as that temptation is. 

"Daddy, please. Put that big dick in me. I'll let you use me as much as you want, pound me until you give me a nice warm creampie—a thick one I can feel right here, deep inside me."

She’s pulling strings that have no control attached to them. 

“But what if I wanna fuck your ass first? Or use your throat while your head hangs off the edge of this bed just the way you like, hm, princess?"

"Anything, daddy can use any part of me. Fuck whatever hole he wants. Just—please, can't wait, need to have that dick in me right now. Don't care where it goes—" 

Now, you could really keep this going, but there's not much point when she's reduced to begging so pathetically like this, already way past the breaking point. So there's really only one thing left to do. “Of course I’m gonna fuck you. And cum in you. Needy fucking slut.” 

"Daddy's needy little slut," she corrects with the biggest sigh of relief. "Wreck my little pussy. Don't hold back anything or go easy on me."

You're more than a little annoyed that she thinks you ever would. "Quiet, princess. All that bratty mouth is good for is making my dick wet."

Without waiting for another response, you're grabbing Wonyoung’s body and pulling her closer towards you to line yourself up properly with her dripping entrance. Just the tip of your cock presses right up against that hot, slick opening, ready to fill her up and stretch her wide open. There's no rush, not when you can see the anticipation in her eyes, so desperate for your first thrust. 

Before you satisfy her needs—needs that you both crave, you take a moment to let it sink in: how Wonyoung is all tied up, helpless, with her arms bound above her head and the prettiest collar around her neck, only able to take whatever you have to offer.

“Such a pretty little thing, all tied up, ready for this fucking cock. Gonna have a lot of fun with you, princess.” 

You don’t have any time to wait for a response, and slowly, you ease your shaft in, inch by inch, groaning at the overwhelming pleasure of sinking into her warmth. Wonyoung's so unbelievably drenched, yet so fucking tight as you push yourself in as deep as possible. It's the perfect stretch of her walls as you slide the entirety of your hard cock into this tight, little hole, unable to hold back any moans at how ready her pussy is to take you—until you're balls fucking deep inside her. 

“Daddy—“ 

"God, princess, love how fucking tight you are. Your greedy little cunt is just begging for a huge load in it, isn’t it?”

Wonyoung just nods wordlessly, struggling with the bratty facade now that she's got exactly what she needs, all this heat enveloping your shaft so nicely. You don't even bother to move your hips, not yet, opting to leave your dick inside her, lost in that incredible wetness that pulls you right in—but not for too long.

Before she can even complain, your hands settle firmly over her tiny waist to keep her in place as you slide the entirety of your length back out in one fluid motion, all the way back to the very tip—then immediately thrust back in full force,  impaling Wonyoung with your cock. 

"Oh god—" she gasps, the stretch so sudden as she tightens around your cock so deliciously. And you're quick to follow up with more, because there's only one way this is going to go. There's no patience left, and your only plan is to pound into her pussy hard and fast like you never have before.

"How's that dick feel in you, brat? This is what you needed, right? Just how you like it?"

"Y-yes, right there, daddy," Wonyoung whines, losing all of that attitude in an instant, giving in to every little sensation that floods her body. "Ah—so good. My pussy loves having your dick in me. Fuck me, fuck me until your balls are empty."

Like there was ever a question you intended to do anything else.

You've been storing up all this pent up frustration to fuel your hips, every forceful thrust completely ravaging her. The pace isn't even remotely gentle, knowing full well Wonyoung needs this pounding more than ever as your cock plunges into her wet heat without even the slightest pause.

"Your pussy feels so fucking good," you growl, unable to tear your gaze away from her perfect features, how she lies there helplessly, taking your cock so well. 

You can barely handle how goddamn tight she is. With each deep stroke, her sticky arousal clings to your throbbing shaft, running down the length while her mouth hangs open to release every breathless moan. 

"Give me more, daddy. Harder—"

Even all tied up, this girl thinks she's in charge here. "Needy slut. You're lucky I'm fucking you in the first place. Your pussy should be thanking me."

"Th-thank you, daddy," she moans, in absolute fucking ecstasy, her perfect cunt squeezing the life out of your cock whenever you bottom her out. Her entire body gets rocked with the sheer force of every harsh, deep thrust, her cute breasts doing their best to bounce along to this unforgiving rhythm that hasn't even begun to settle. "Harder, p-please—"

"Oh, so you do know how to ask nicely? But only when I have my cock buried in you?"

Wonyoung only lets out a strangled gasp in response from another hard thrust, saying nothing more and resorting to desperate whining each time your cock completely fills her to the hilt. Your urge to deny her has all but vanished, with her sticky warmth enveloping the entirety of your shaft when your cock fills cunt—so hard, so goddamn deep, enough to overwhelm her, and she can’t even scramble for anything in reach to grab on to. 

Every single time you slide out, her slick, tight walls pull you right back in, making it impossible to ignore the ravenous clutches of her cunt. Soaked can’t even begin to describe her slick entrance, an abundance of arousal ensuring the path is paved for your cock to ram into her pussy unimpeded. 

“Feels so good, daddy," Wonyoung breathes out, her face inching closer when you lean forward, lifting those lusciously long legs up in the air to place them over your shoulders with her feet left dangling in the air helplessly. 

Nothing holds you back when you’ve got her all folded up, your hips dominated by lust and pleasure as her pliant body accepts this pounding so effortlessly. The room resonates with flesh meeting flesh, and it all feels a little too unreal. Every ounce of pleasure intensified as you plow into her tight heat that devours every inch you have. 

“You're so deep in me—want you to cum, want you to cum so hard inside me, daddy—please."

That’s when you really start to give it to her. 

The bed underneath Wonyoung creaks louder and louder in protest, being drowned out by the sinful sounds that escape her lips that urge your cock right back in. 

You can see it in those fucking eyes, that she’s frustrated—unable to touch you, unable to wrap her arms around you and dig her nails right into your back. The poor thing can’t even touch herself to give that extra pleasure while you're railing her into the mattress like this. She'll survive, because it’s not like this isn't making her wetter by the moment, every second she's restrained like this, taking your cock with her mouth open and pussy swallowing all of you up. 

“I think I like you best like this. Tied up and helpless with nothing to do but lay there, just a warm, wet hole for me to use until my load fills you."

Wonyoung can’t exactly disagree with that, even as much as she wants to have her hands wandering your body, tugging at your hair, or feeling your muscles flex under her fingers. “But doesn’t daddy miss when I wrap my legs around, so I can make sure all that cum goes deep inside me? You're going to cum in me, right?”

"Not if you keep asking me again and again. Maybe I'll just paint your pretty face and leave you here instead," you say, slowing your pace while you think it over. She just frowns, trying to use her cunt to encourage you, to make you keep going with extra force. Even when you shift the position of her legs, taking them off your shoulders to spread them wide as they’ll go, knees nearly to her chest so you can really drill her, she doesn’t give up. 

"I know that's not what you really want," Wonyoung says, countering with a little smirk that contorts in pleasure when your cock angles at just the right spot. It never ends—even as your hips piston so viciously, and she takes the entire length of you right back down to the hilt with every stroke. That bratty mouth never stops. 

“Daddy wants to cum in my needy little pussy. Why else would you be fucking me like you’re trying to break me? Why else would you put me in this position if you’re not going to breed me?” 

“Do you ever—fucking stop talking? Regretting not gagging you from the start.” 

“Not a chance daddy would do that. You like hearing me beg for your cock too much.” If her goal is to get you to lose control, to go as rough as you can get, she's absolutely going to get all that and more. You gain a new rush of energy to fuck your frustrations out, slamming into this blissful warmth that you're eager to spill your seed in despite what any other words that leave your mouth say.

“Inside me, daddy, deep inside," Wonyoung insists, voice faltering with every strained syllable, barely hanging on through all these forceful thrusts. She looks absolutely satisfied with you groaning above her, like her pussy controls your cock and not the other way around. “You wouldn't dream of pulling out—daddy wants to fill me so bad."

Can’t argue with that one bit. With her legs so helplessly in the air, she watches you pump away without restraint, into this intoxicating heat, until there’s no defenses left against the inevitable. 

“Can feel you throbbing so much, daddy must be so close. My pussy needs it—please, pound my little hole until your balls empty, fill me to the brim,” she pleas so innocently, so sweetly, in contrast to your harsh, raw fucking that hasn't given even a moment's break since you lifted her legs up.

"You think you deserve that? You really think you deserve for me to breed you?" It’s a question unfitting an actual response, because like hell,  you don't deserve to empty yourself into Wonyoung's warm little pussy. If anything, you deserve this reward for putting up with her for so long every single day. 

"When has that ever stopped you before? Daddy always fills me even when I've been a bad girl. You love shooting all your hot cum inside and watching it slowly drip out of me..."

Once again, she has you there. All you can do is put more power into your hips, to make sure your climax arrives sooner, slamming your entire length so deep into that dripping cunt that's begging for your release. You're not leaving this bed until Wonyoung gets filled.

“Fucking brat. Only because your cunt feels so good is why I'm finishing inside you. And because Yujin isn't here to drain me."

Wonyoung isn't the least bit insulted by these words, smirking happily at getting what she thinks she oh so deserves. And while you might be the one in control, fucking her senseless with her legs obscenely spread up in the air like a toy for your own pleasure—she holds more power than you realize. Because, as always, you're giving her exactly what she wants, even when you pretend not to.

"Daddy, gonna—" is all she can get out before you feel her pussy begin to spasm violently around your shaft, clamping down so tightly you might burst before she does. 

"Then fucking cum, you cock hungry little slut—then your pussy can have my load." You can't exactly blame her when you’ve been pounding her so harshly into the mattress, that she falls into an orgasm so quickly, reaching the height of her pleasure—and you're almost there yourself.

You can feel her orgasm rip through her body as she moans your name breathlessly, eyes rolling back into her head in bliss as your cock fills her sweet cunt over and over, the tip ready to erupt at any second. More than anything else, the thought of emptying your entire load into Wonyoung makes your hips buck even faster, until you're pushing her into yet another climax while desperately seeking relief yourself.

"You want a hot fucking creampie in your pretty little cunt, huh? That’s what you’ve been begging me for?" you growl, as you struggle to maintain this brutal pace, chasing after your own release, and Wonyoung can't even cling onto any part of you to help speed this all up. She only lets out all these fervent nods, still going through the motions of her own next impending orgasm, toes all curled, mouth wide open as her pussy clenches and clenches all around your aching shaft. 

And it feels way too fucking amazing to resist.

Nothing stops you from plowing this girl who's so helplessly at your will, waiting for your cock to reward her, lips parted, eyes closed, the loop of her pretty collar dangling with each rock of your hips, until you’re right there at the end—

You fucking unload everything. Every drop that belongs to Wonyoung, every hot creamy spurt that she's craved for so long. Her gaze never falters while her pussy milks out all this cum right up into her womb, coating her insides with a massive thick load, just like she desperately needed.

Not for a second do you stop your harsh movements, pushing every bit of your heavy load deeper into this needy cunt. Wonyoung has never looked so pretty—arms bound, legs up, accepting all of your cum, her beautiful skin glistening with sweat from being used like this, red marks already forming around her delicate wrists, while your cock keeps pumping more and more thick, pearlescent cum into her. 

Only then, do you ride this high, when you're so wonderfully exhausted from giving this brat everything until your balls have nothing more left to spill.

“Fuck, princess,” you mutter between pants for breaths. Her body is equally spent, still twitching in the aftershocks of her own blissful release, and the warm, messy load in her pussy. "Made me cum so much—"

“Don’t I always?” Wonyoung responds between tired gasps for air, and even on the verge of passing out from exhaustion, she still finds the energy to bite back. 

You'd usually find your own snarky response to that, but you’re far too tired and much more interested in seeing the mess that’s been left inside her. When your cock slowly slides out of her freshly used cunt, a familiar sight greets you—so much thick, creamy white flowing out, mixed in with Wonyoung's own juices that looks absolutely exquisite spilling all over the inside of her creamy thighs.

“Shit—you’re fucking right. I love watching my cum drip out of you," you admit, trailing lazy fingers over her body, her glistening stomach, those perky breasts, and her delicate neck that looks so good with that little collar around it. Your touch wanders up to her face, caressing her cheek with a thumb, admiring the faint smile that graces those pink lips. "Love cumming inside you more than anything, princess."

Wonyoung doesn't say a thing except to giggle softly, more than a little pleased with herself. She's been in this bound state for long enough, so it’s about time to untie her, you think, loosening the knot enough to free those slender arms. You slip off the collar from her neck as well to make it easier to catch her breath, and rub the soreness out of those dainty wrists, kissing them as the rope slips off and goes forgotten. 

For sure, Yujin is going to notice this all when she gets back and ask for details.

Now that Wonyoung can move around unrestricted, she uses her newfound freedom to prop her body up and lean in for a kiss. It's more subdued than you expected, given that she still needs a few fleeting moments to gather her senses while you slip a hand between her legs to play with the mess you've made in her cunt, making sure the remnants of your load don’t escape. 

"It’s so much… so easy to make daddy cum, isn't it?" she says, still unable to breathe normally, a proud smile on her face like she didn't cream all over your cock an uncountable number of times either.

"Don’t make me regret untying you, princess. Next time I'm leaving one of those toys in you, shutting the door, and getting some peace and quiet."

"Like you could ever leave me. Daddy can't get enough of my tight little pussy."

"Brat." 

"Daddy's brat."

[ariestrxsh]

🖤 content warning: 🖤 smut, eating pussy, fingering, masturbation, heavy mommy kink, praise, tied up, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, teasing, edging, creampie, getting caught, pervy!virgin!chris, sub!chris, older!reader, softdom!reader, small age gap

🖤 author's note: 🖤 this is part two of 'chemicals,' and you can read part one here. 💖 definitely recommend you read in order bc the build up is craaazy and is what makes the story good imo.

🖤 summary: 🖤 you're supposed to be helping chris study, but after giving him head for the first time, he wants you to teach him how to return the favor. if he's a good boy and does well on his chemistry exam, you'll reward him. but if he does poorly, you'll punish him.

chemicals part two

"Nick's gonna kill me when you fail your exam tomorrow," you laughed, moving back to the spot on the bed where you were sitting before you and Chris got carried away in an impromptu blowjob.

"I don't give a fuck about if I pass or not. The only thing I care about passing is the oral exam," he whispered into your ear as he inched closer to you on the bed. "Teach me, mommy. I've never eaten pussy before, but I want you to show me. Please. I wanna make you feel good like you made me feel good," he begged.

You couldn't handle how cute he was, hearing the way he was practically whining while he pleaded to eat you. How could you say no? You nodded at him and bit your lip.

Chris reached for the hem of your shirt and tugged on it while he gave you a needy expression. "You just gonna tease me with them and not even show them to me in person?" Chris nibbled on his lower lip while he gave you puppy dog eyes.

You slowly pulled your shirt up, watching Chris' jaw fall open as you revealed the lacey red bra you had on underneath. "Have you ever unhooked a girl's bra before?" You wondered aloud. Chris innocently shook his head, hoping you were about to teach him.

"It's really hot when a guy can do it one-handed, but for the sake of it being your first time, we're gonna use both, okay?" You replied. He eagerly nodded.

"Okay, the hook is in the back, so you're gonna wrap your arms around me like you're giving me a hug," you directed him, so he leaned forward and hooked his arms under yours. "Then you're gonna find where it clasps, and you're gonna place your hands on each of the straps. Then push together to unhook it," you spoke softly into his ear, your lips tickling his earlobe.

Goosebumps arose all over his body as he unhooked your bra, feeling your nearly bare breasts against his chest. He could smell your strawberry shampoo and the jasmine-scented perfume you were wearing as he loosened his grasp on your bra, the straps gradually falling off your shoulders.

He pulled back and looked into your eyes. The two of you fell into a passionate makeout session, his soft lips enveloping yours and his tongue finding its way into your mouth. While the two of you lost yourselves in a swirling mess of each other's saliva, Chris reached for your breasts, pulling your bra off the rest of the way and freeing them. He gently rolled your nipples between his fingers, and they stiffened beneath his caress.

Chris pulled away for a second and looked at you while he lowered his mouth onto your chest. He wrapped his lips around your nipple and started gently sucking, alternating between both of your breasts. "Oh, Chris," you whined, running your fingers through his hair. His tongue was soft and gentle as it swirled around your sensitive buds, and you could tell by the way he licked them that he wouldn't need much teaching when it came to eating you out.

"Get on your knees again, pretty boy," you whispered to him. He obediently listened to you, and he watched as you pulled up your skirt and shimmied your red panties off. He stared down at your glistening wet pussy as you spread your legs open for him.

He leaned forward, eager to get to work, but you held your hand out and stopped him from diving right in. "Not so fast, baby. You have a lot to learn before you even think about getting a taste," you whispered, smiling at him. Fuck, he loved being teased by you. He slowly nodded at you and gave you an innocent look like he'd been scolded.

"Ready to learn?" You asked. "Yes, mommy," he pathetically whined in response. "So every girl is different, but a good general first rule is, you wanna take it slow," you taught him. "Like, tease you?" He asked, gazing between your legs. "Yeah, exactly. You don't want to be too direct or rough at first, or it can be too much," you told him. "Yes, mommy, I'm listening," he mumbled quietly.

"You're gonna wanna start off by kissing the insides of my thighs or right here where it's less sensitive," you smiled at him, pointing towards your labia. "Where are the most sensitive parts?" Chris wondered, entranced by your anatomy.

"Right here is the clitoral hood," you said running the tip of your finger over it, "and this is the most sensitive spot," you smirked at him, spreading yourself open and gently grazing your clit, shuddering as you did so.

Chris had seen plenty of porn before so he had a vague idea about what to do, but he couldn't get enough of the way your silky voice sounded pouring from your lips while you told him what you specifically liked.

"This is the hole," you showed him, placing your finger at your entrance. "Wow," Chris whispered. "And if you're a really good boy and you eat it just right, I'll let you put your cock in there," you whispered.

"Mommy, I'll be such a good boy," Chris whimpered, resting his head on your thigh and gazing up at you with his sweet, blue eyes. "Show me how good you can be," you said in a sensual tone, biting your lip at him.

He started by gently leaving a trail of kisses up the insides of your thighs, slowly moving towards your pussy. He grazed your outer labia with his tongue and planted a few more kisses on the lips between your legs. He moved slowly and meticulously, making sure not to overwhelm you. He dragged his tongue across your folds, eliciting a small gasp from you.

"You're already so wet," he commented. "I couldn't help it. I really loved giving you head," you responded, grinning down at him. He taunted you a bit more, kissing and licking everywhere except your most sensitive spot.

"Now would be the perfect time to start licking my clit," you directed him. "If you tease for too much longer, the girl might lose interest and think you don't know where her clit is," you warned him. He nodded. He'd been waiting for this moment. He gently grazed your clit with his tongue, moving it in a slow, vertical motion. It felt nice, but it was missing something.

"Your tempo is incredible, but you're being a little too gentle with the pressure," you corrected him. He stiffened his tongue and went back to work. You giggled, running your fingers through his hair. "Now your tongue is a little too firm," you told him.

He relaxed the muscles a bit more, finding a sweet spot in the middle. You gasped and grabbed onto his head full of hair. "Perfect," you whispered delightfully, looking into Chris' blue eyes. He loved being your student.

"Move your tongue around in circles, baby," you moaned. "Anything for you," he whispered, following your direction and making circular motions with his licks. You tugged on his hair harder this time due to how incredible his tongue felt, evoking a soft whimper from him.

He stopped for a moment to look up at you and asked, "Am I doing a good job, mommy?" The neediness in his eyes and his voice had you throbbing. "Yes, you're such a good boy. You listen so well," you responded, smiling down at him and combing your fingers through his hair. Your praise earned another needy moan from the sweet boy between your legs, vibrating against all your nerve endings and sending ripples of satisfaction throughout your body.

He pulled away again. "How could I make it even better, mommy?" Chris nibbled on his lip. You loved his enthusiasm. "Suck on it, baby. Just really gentle." And he did, alternating between licking in little circles and closing his lips around it and creating a little suction.

Your thighs tensed up, and your stomach did a little flip while he pleasured you. "You're getting even more wet," Chris noticed, pulling away and looking at the way your pussy was drooling for him. "That's how you know you're doing a really good job," you praised him. He delighted in your answer. He loved hearing how well he was doing, and he loved the way your body was reacting to the different ways he licked you.

"Be a good boy and put your fingers in me, okay?" You requested. He thought you'd never ask. He slipped his middle finger into your hole. "Like that?" He innocently asked. "Yes, like that. One more finger, baby," you cooed. He listened, inserting his ring finger as well.

"Now, curl them. Oh, fuck," you whispered as he followed your direction and starting hitting a little deeper. "That feels weird," he smiled, his fingertips rutting up against the ridged tissue inside of you. "That's the infamous gspot," you told him, grabbing his wrist and speeding up the pace of his fingers. He noted everything you showed him that you liked. "Just like that, baby," you moaned, throwing your head back.

You moved your grip back to his hair while he continued penetrating you at the pace you liked. "Now do everything I showed you at the same time," you pulled his head back towards your pussy, and he hungrily lapped at your clit while gently suckling on it and fucking you with his fingers. "Such a fast learner," you whispered, your fingers entangled in his hair as you tugged some more.

"I'm getting so close. Don't stop. Or slow down. Or speed up. Oh, fuck. Just, oh god, keep doing exactly what you're doing," you struggled to get out between your moans. Chris intently soaked in all the information you gave him while you soaked his face.

"Good boy," you commended him as you clenched your juicy, trembling thighs around his head and your pussy clenched around his digits. He continued using all the techniques you taught him until you were pushing his chest away. "Too much," you whispered breathlessly, but he only stopped long enough to respond with a, "Give me one one more, mommy."

Once he placed his mouth back onto your clit, he didn't skip a beat, skillfully exploring your sex with his enthusiastic tongue and curious fingers, making sure to keep his tempo steady and methodical.

About twenty seconds later, he was drawing another orgasm from you, and you felt your muscles tense up in your legs and your core as you shook, overcome by pure, unfiltered pleasure. Chris felt you throbbing around his fingers as more of your liquid leaked out onto them. When he pulled away, his chin was covered in your wetness, a testament to how expertly he'd eaten you. He licked his digits clean, moaning as he savored your taste.

After you caught your breath, you slugged him in the arm. "You asshole," you rolled your eyes at him. "What? Did I do something wrong?" He looked up at you with concern. "You lied to me. Never eaten pussy before, hmm?" You raised an eyebrow at him, skeptically. "I haven't!" A grin came across his face, "but I'm so flattered that you think it wasn't my first time."

"Then how did you make me cum twice back-to-back like that?" You narrowed your gaze at him. "I've heard that's how you give a girl multiple orgasms, so I just figured I'd test it out," he shrugged.

"No one else has ever been able to make me do that before," you confided in him. "So, it was really that good?" Chris asked, wide-eyed, needing you to say it again. "Yes, Chris. You did so good for me," you smiled at him, biting your lip. "Well, you did a really good job teaching me," he whispered.

"Okay, Chris. We really gotta get back to learning chemistry," you giggled, leaning over and grabbing your panties, slipping them back on, and tugging your skirt back down. "But mommy, I already learned so much today. If you teach me anymore, I won't be able to retain it," he batted his eyelashes at you. "But Chris! You have a test tomorrow," you shot him a serious look.

"I don't give a fuck about chemistry. Only our chemistry," he said, sitting next to you on the bed and grabbing at your waist. "If you get a good grade on your test, I'll reward you," you said, climbing onto his lap, straddling him, and making out with him.

"What happens if I get a bad grade on my test, mommy?" He muttered against your lips in between kisses. "Then I'll punish you," you responded, biting his bottom lip. "What if I like the idea of being punished by you?" He cooed. "Fuck," you whispered as you started to grind against him while your mind ran wild with different ways to punish him.

"Please fuck me," he whimpered. "Not yet, sweetheart. Gotta wait til you take your test and get your results so I know whether to treat you like a good boy or a naughty boy," you responded, teasingly. He let out a soft moan at the thought of you making him wait. He loved how good you were at building up the anticipation.

"Mommy, will you do my homework for me? It's hard," Chris whined needily, putting heavy emphasis on the hard. He meant it in more than one way. He gave you his best begging eyes and a little pout, which was a sure-fire way to get you to do anything at all for him. He knew you couldn't say no to him, especially not when he looked so fuckable.

"Of course, baby," you replied, giving him one more kiss, climbing off his lap and reaching for his textbook. You started jotting down answers for him on a separate sheet of paper so he could copy them down later. You were concentrating on the problems in front of you and working them out when you heard a familiar mewl.

You peered up at Chris, and he was leaning back in his bed, stroking himself while he watched you doing his homework for him. "Made me all hard again, mommy. I just need to take care of it really fast," Chris whispered, rolling his eyes back while he gently massaged his tip with his thumb.

You tried so hard to concentrate on Chris' chemistry assignment, but every couple of minutes, you'd pull your eyes up from the textbook to take in Chris' needy expression and the way he edged himself in front of you. The longer you took to finish his homework, the longer he teased his cock, building himself up and then denying himself orgasm after orgasm for what felt like forever.

"I'm on the last problem," you told him, staring at his swollen head that looked like it was going to bust any second. His lips were parted, and the muscles in his face relaxed as his cock quivered under the power of his long, slow strokes, his cum erupting from the tip and shooting out like it had been waiting to be set free.

He pumped his hand back and forth until his fluid was slowly flowing out and dripping down his shaft. You were surprised by how much he came, considering you'd just blown him a few hours earlier. "Just needed to take care of it really fast, huh?" Was the first thing you said after you had just watched Chris' hour-long edging session. Chris bit his lip and looked up at you, his face looking flushed and pink. "Mhmm."

The next day around the same time, you made your way back over to Chris' dorm room, and you knocked on his door, curious to know if he'd gotten his test results back. He smiled when he saw you. "So, don't be mad, but I didn't do so well on my test," Chris bit his lip and looked at you innocently.

"Oh no, what did you get?" You asked, also biting your lip, secretly excited to get to be able to punish him. "I got a 69," Chris said, a smirk curling across his lips. "Naughty boy," you whispered, pushing him gently until he fell back into the chair that was behind him.

You set your bag on his bed and started rifling through it while Chris stared in anticipation. You found the rope you'd put in there, and you held eye contact with Chris as you slowly pulled it out. His eyes widened. "What's that for?" Chris grinned as you ignored his question and started tying his wrists to the chair.

After you finished tying the last knot, restraining both his wrists, he tugged at them to test their effectiveness, and they didn't budge. His submissive eyes were filled with excitement as you unzipped his jeans and pulled out his already hard cock. It twitched in your hand as he thought about the fact that he was about to lose his virginity to you while he was tied to a chair.

You pulled up your skirt, pulled down your panties, and straddled him. You directed his dick towards your opening, and you studied his expression as his jaw dropped while you lowered yourself onto him. "Oh, my god," he whispered, throwing his head back. You descended his length slowly, teasing him.

He couldn't believe how lovely it felt to have you wrapped around him. You didn't want to boost his ego too much, but he had the biggest dick you'd ever taken, and it took a moment to get used to his size.

You pulled off your top to reveal to Chris that you hadn't even bothered with a bra this time. He stared in awe at your tits that started jostling around at eye level while you started to ride him.

It wasn't long before you were picking up speed, bouncing up and down on his lap while he moaned beneath you. He tugged at his restraints, his hands desperately begging to wander the curves of your body. The fact that he couldn't was killing him, but the way you were teasing him had him getting close already.

He looked up at you with his bedroom eyes, and the expression on his face told you he couldn't take much more, so you brought your strides to a halt. "Not yet, pretty boy. I'm gonna make you beg for it," you chuckled, slowly beginning to ride him again. "Mommy," he groaned beneath you, loving how wet and tight you felt around his cock.

He wanted to reach up and lose his fingers in your hair. He wanted to grab your tits that were bouncing in his face, taunting him. He wanted to leave handprints on your ass from squeezing it so hard. But it was futile. He surrendered to the way you tortured him, releasing his tug on the restraints and giving in to the sensation of completely relinquishing control.

"Good boy. You like being my little fuck toy, don't you?" You asked, caressing his face and looking into his eyes. "Yes, mommy." Your words started to send him over the edge, but you stopped. He let out a needy groan as you teased him some more.

His cock filled you wonderfully, and you let out a few satisfied sounds as you started to bounce up and down on him again while his tip massaged your gspot. It was just as hard for you to hold out as it was for him.

You rode him faster and faster. The two of you moaned together, your noises creating an erotic symphony while you engaged in a primal dance. "I can't take it anymore. I need to cum, mommy. It feels so fucking good," he looked at you with his puppy dog eyes, his furrowed brow, and his lips parted in a needy expression. He tightened his grip on the seat of the chair beneath him, the only thing he could hold onto with his hands being tied down.

"Mommy, please," he pathetically begged. You could hear and see the desperation. "Good boy. Cum for mommy," you permitted, nearing the edge yourself. The two of you were so carried away, enjoying your collective orgasm that you didn't hear the door unlatch behind you.

"Yes, mommy," Chris whimpered as he busted inside of you, filling you with several spurts of his sticky, hot load. "Good boy," You responded in a shaky voice as you trembled on top of him, your pussy rhythmically spasming around his member.

"Jesus fucking christ," Nick's voice filled the room, and you jumped off of Chris, pulling your skirt back down and covering your breasts with your hands. "It's not what it looks like!" You cried out, knowing damn well it was exactly what it looked like. Nick's eyes panned over to poor Chris, who was tied to the chair with his cock hanging out of his jeans. He couldn't grab anything to cover himself with due to the restraints.

"Shit," Chris whispered in humiliation. Being caught by Nick was not how he imagined his first time. "I came over here to see why you got a D on your test," Nick said to Chris. "It looks like this is the reason my brother is failing Chemistry," Nick said in a serious tone, looking back over at you, accusingly.

You giggled, shrugged, and gave Nick an innocent smile, "I mean, to be fair, he was already failing before you asked me to help him."

taglist: @bsturnzmtt @sturniolo-girl @munchingmini @coolasice01 @theyluvme-2315 @zariyam @brookiecookie-18 @maggot3647 @slut4chriztopher @miss-delicious @strnlslvr @sleepysturniolo @lvrsturniolo @sofieeeeex @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @matts-myloverboy @mattsfavbigtitties @new2024cats4life @witchofthehour @whoahoahoahoahoa @ilovechrissturniolosposts @smt-obsessed @sturnioloxlver @that1fangirll @aaliyahhasacrush @hrtz4alex2211 @luvhsien @sp3ncerslvt @sturniolo-munch44 @jakewebberswifee @karttpet @ssturniolooss @thenickgurl @sturniolo-fann @sst7niolo @slxtformatt @chestersturniolo @riowritesitall @camzeecorner @mattsturnixlo @annedebeijer @scorpioosworld @mynameisuser834 @mattlover-00 @honestlybeautifulqueen @ribread03 @alizestvrnss @m11rx @sturniolocharms @sigmarizzler1

[leviraaaaaa]

All that's left.

“I know you’re there.”

Levi called out, startling you. You’ve been watching him from the side of the wreck, watching as the ghosts of your comrades appeared for one last time, one last salute. One last declaration of all they dedicated. One last goodbye.

And when Hange gave you a nod, you nodded back.

You two are all that's left.

You stayed out of his sight even after they disappeared, giving him the privacy to mourn. God knows he needed it. You didn’t think he had noticed your presence, but then again, who were you trying to fool? His extraordinary instincts were never to be underestimated.

Sighing, you pushed yourself to stand straight and stumbled forward. He glanced at you with the side of his eye. Ever resilient, ever strong, the cracks were so slight, just barely there. But you knew. You could always tell.

“Hi.” You mumbled. He stared at you as you dragged yourself in front of him, slightly limping.

“Nice of you to make it out alive.” He said.

“Who would’ve thought?” You shrugged.

“You made an ugly titan by the way.”

“I’m sure you would’ve looked charming.”

“Bet.”

You smiled. The conversation was so unbelievably normal. Here, in the wreckage of everything, all the corpses, smoke, blood and ruins, here you were, back to how it always was. It almost felt surreal. Almost as if you concentrated hard enough, all of it would go away and you’d find you and him back in the soggy cafeteria of the scout headquarters, back to bantering with him and arguing about silly little things that don't really deserve arguments but it’s you and Levi so of course it’d end up an argument.

You felt so old suddenly.

How come you ended up here? In this way?

And Levi looked so tired, you could cry. Hasn’t he given enough? Doesn’t he get to rest now?

“Does that..” You glanced down at his leg, the one he had spread out in front of him. It was clear it was beyond repair. The fabric of his pants were torn at the knee, from where it was crushed between the titan’s jaw, a bloody, mangled mess. “Does that hurt?”

“Not really, no.” His eyes went to where yours were. “Numbed down a while ago. Can’t feel shit really.”

You sighed. "Not very humanity's strongest anymore, huh?"

Levi raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?" He said. "Careful, I could still kick your ass."

"I'm sure."

You grinned. Then went ahead and dropped yourself beside him. He frowned.

“Shouldn’t we be getting up now?” He said. “Why are you getting all comfortable?”

“Why not?” You muttered, pulling your legs upto your chest, hugging them. “What’s it matter what we do or not? Armin’s the hot shit now, let him deal with shit.”

He didn’t answer, but he made no attempt to get up either. If anything, he looked more relaxed. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to spend the rest of your life here. After all, you were so tired, and you were sure he was too. This was as good as anywhere else would be.

Because there’s no home to return to anymore.

“Do you think there’s anything left of Hange to bury?” He suddenly said.

You shuddered. What do you answer to that?

And your head pounded so hard, you couldn’t really think. Far away, you could hear someone yelling at another someone, but you couldn’t bother to pay attention to the words. Armin and the others would figure something out surely.

You were exhausted.

“Say, Levi.” You said tiredly, nudging him slightly.

“What?”

“Wanna get married?”

Levi almost choked, he was suddenly all uptight, stiff as a board as he looked at you with wide eyes.

“What the fuck?” He asked, scowling. “Are you seriously gonna make jokes here? Here?”

“Not joking.”

You lifted up your head, tilting it to look at him. It was hard to tell whether he was annoyed or flustered. You’re not sure where the sudden boldness came from, but this is as good a time as any. Might as well. “You’re right. It’s a bad time to make jokes. So I’m dead serious.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I am.” You nodded, turning your expression very serious.

“You’re weird as fuck.” He sputtered out after a few attempts to speak. The tips of his ears were red, red as it always was whenever you used to jokingly suggest that he should date you. Except you weren’t really joking anymore. You haven’t been joking for a long, long time.

“I mean..” You closed your eyes. You were too tired to even feel embarrassed. “We’re the only ones left. Me and you. You’re all I have left, Levi. So, why not?”

He stared at you for a few seconds, gaping. Then he started shaking his head. “You’re insane.” He finally said.

“You’re just realizing that?”

“No.” He muttered. “You’re insane. And it’s rubbing off on me.”

He turned to you, peering at you with one good eye, pondering. And finally, he made up his mind.

“You’re insane. And I’m no fucking different.” He sighed. “I must’ve hit my head pretty damn hard because I’m actually considering this shit.”

You grinned. “Go on, say it. You like me.”

“Wrong. I tolerate you.”

“Good enough. You don’t tolerate a lot of people, so I’ll take it as I'm special.”

He sighed, turning away, hoping that’s enough to hide his heart from you. You were special to him, always. But you didn’t need to know that. He didn’t want you to know that. He didn’t know how to let you know that.

“Can you believe us?” He scoffed. “We’re practically sitting in a graveyard. Half the world’s ruined but then there’s us.”

“That’s fine. Let’s keep being us. The world can go fuck itself. Meanwhile, we can—”

“Do not finish that sentence.” He glared.

You stopped, a laugh breaking through. And you laughed so hard your stomach ached and there were tears lining in your eyes. And even Levi smiled, just the slightest, barely. A subtle quirk of his mouth.

“We’re insane.” You admitted. With that, you stood up, stumbling a little before you found your balance. You reached out your hand to Levi, who took it without question.

“Come on, Lev.” You pulled him up, letting him wrap an arm around you to brace himself. “Let’s go home.”

You were right, Levi thinks as he limps with you, letting you support him. It was nice to finally let himself lean on someone.

You two are the only ones left.

You’re all he has now.

The world has taken enough from him. He’s so tired of letting go.

And he’d be damned if he let you go too.

[shy-writer-999]

Thigh Riding: Monster Trio + Law

WARNING: MINORS DNI. NSFW CONTENT.

A/N: How would the Monster Trio & Law act while you ride their thigh? What would they say and how would it be initiated? (afab reader~)

Shoutout to the anon who requested this—I was going to do Ace as well but I think that someone (@possiblyreallyme) recently did it better than what I would have been able to come up with, so I’ve linked that here.

Thigh Riding: Monster Trio + Law

ZORO

The first time you ride one of Zoro’s thighs, it’s his idea. He loves to see you get off in any way he can imagine.

“C’mere. On my thigh. I want you to ride it.”

You’re surprised because you’ve never done this before, but he’s been rabidly horny recently and he’s been getting real creative.

His thighs are thick and hairy—the perfect seat. He’s just wearing boxer briefs, so when you lower your barely clothed cunt onto his thigh, you can feel his wiry hair bristle your skin.

His cock twitches when you look at him, poised on his thigh, waiting for instruction.

His hands come to rest on your hips. “Grind on me.”

He knows just what you like best. His goal is to see you dripping wet with pleasure and a hot mess. He has no problem accomplishing that.

He smirks as your rub your sensitive spot on his bare thigh. Friction builds on your core, quickly sending zaps of pleasure from your clit to the rest of your body.

“Getting wet already?”

 As you slide yourself back and forth on his thigh, you start letting out filthy mewls and keens. Your panties are soaked through.

“How does that feel? Are you getting off by just humping my thigh, gorgeous? Must be pretty desperate.”

As you start rutting down into his thigh more frantically, your face twists into an expression of lust. After a handful of minutes, your eyes become glossy and half-lidded, cheeks flushed pink. He grips your hips tighter and pushes his thigh up into your cunt, eliciting a moan.

“Did that feel good? You like rutting your pussy on my thigh that much?”

He’s getting off seeing you hump so needy and pathetically on his thigh. He can feel the precum seeping out of his tip, making a stain on his briefs.

You’re completely lost by now, feverishly fucking his thigh. You’re making a wet mess out of this thigh and your panties are leaking. Your face is contorted with pleasure.

“You wanna cum for me baby? Wanna cum on my thigh?”

You nod and Zoro starts to push his thigh up into your cunt again. It feels so good that you collapse forward onto him as much as you can, your head coming to rest in the cook of his neck. Your lips glide over his thigh while you ride him.

A few more squirming humps and a few more jerks of Zoro’s thigh up into your cunt  and you’re brought to your peak. You cum all over his thick thigh; you’re hot and sweaty, and Zoro is about to fuck you into oblivion.

“Got your pussy so wet on my thigh—you ready for my cock now, baby? You want the real thing? God, you’re such a mess. C’mere.”

He lifts you up and you’re straddling him now, his cock pressing at your entrance. He proceeds to fuck you slow and deep until you’re even more of a babbling, fucked-out mess. Then he finally lets you cum on his cock, and you return the favor by letting him cumming inside of you.

LUFFY

You’re cuddling with Luffy, legs entangled. You’re half asleep and Luffy is too.

His thigh is pressing on your crotch, and when he adjusts it, he inadvertently grinds his knee on your clit.

You let out a soft sound, kind of like a moan but not as intense. He does it again a few more times and you grab a fistful of his shirt. “Luffy.”

The idea hits him like lightning. He scoops you up from where you’re laying together and sits up, placing you on his thigh.

He’s already hard, and as you blink the sleep out of your eyes, you pull him into a kiss. You feel his thigh under your panties and instinctively start grinding back and forth on it.

“How does that feel?” He asks in all sincerity, and you respond back with a moan “feels good”. He’s always curious about what gets you off—he thinks its hot to see you get flustered and needy.

“Fuck Luffy, it feels so good.”

“Well keep going.” He’s all smiles like usual, his hands on your hips, but his voice is getting gruffer. He notices how wet you’re getting.

He’s getting harder by the minute. Something about seeing you get off on his thigh, of all things, is about to drive him feral.

He gets the idea to move his thigh up and down—maybe it will make you feel even better. He likes to see you in bliss like this, it makes him want to rip all your clothes off and fuck you senseless.

He’s holding off on touching himself right now because he’s too entranced by you haphazardly crashing your cunt on his thigh.

When you finally cum climax on his thigh, he picks you up and puts his cock in you. His voice is strained and husky. “My turn.”

He fucks you until your eyes roll back in your head. Luffy can go round after round, no problem. You riding his thigh was the perfect appetizer to his main meal—cumming in you no less than three times. By the end of it you’re seeing stars and he’s grunting and groaning in your ear.

SANJI

cw: instance of “pretty girl” and “needy girl”

Sanji thinks it’s so fucking hot that you want to ride his thigh.

You ask sheepishly and he becomes so excited he practically throws you over his knee.

The idea that you’re using him any part of him to get off makes him feel like he’s going crazy with desire.

He loves to feel your weight on his thigh. It makes him feel like he’s holding you, like you’re close together, like he’s supporting you in some way (which, technically, he is). It reminds him of when you sit on his face, and he’s hard just thinking about it.

He literally loves you so much that his heart melts any time you look at him. He blushes crimson and attends to your every want and need.

Can’t overstate how excited he was to have you straddling his thigh.

When you start dragging your clit back and forth on his thigh, his heart skips a beat. He thinks you’re gorgeous and is intoxicated by your presence.

He just adores you and it’s apparent in his voice. He sweet talks you as you desperately start writhing on his thigh.

He’s almost breathless. “Wow.”

“Just like that my love.”

When the angle is right, he’ll pull your face near his and caress your cheek with his thumb. He pulls you into delicate kisses, kisses your neck, and swipes his thumb over your lips.

“Pretty girl so worked up riding my thigh.” His grip tightens on your hips as he gets more aroused. He was already rock hard when he initially put you on his thigh, and by now his erection is raging against his pants.

“You’re getting my thigh so wet, beautiful. So fucking hot.”

He coaches and praises you through it. He calls you lovely things and uses his hands to slow down the pace of your thrusts. He wants you to ride him slowly until you’re begging him to let you go faster.

“Mmm, you wish it was my cock instead, angel?”

Your cunt throbs and pulses as you increase the pressure on his thigh—your whines and keens go straight to his dick.

He occasionally reaches a hand up to smooth down your hair and pet your hair and cheeks. He’s so obsessed with you it’s absurd.

“So wet for me, baby. Does it feel good?” He coos in your ear, and it gives you goosebumps.

Sanji starts to bounce his thigh until you’re literally drooling with pleasure. "Go faster now, my love. Go faster." Your thighs start to shake and your slick is oozing on his thighs.

“You look so gorgeous right now. Rutting all over my thighs, needy girl. I’ll fix you up just right, but I want you to cum before I fuck you. Okay?”

When you finally cum, he gives you more sloppy kisses. He picks you up by your waist and hips, carries you to the bed, and fucks you in missionary. Sanji does all the work—think of it as a sort of reward for riding his thigh.

LAW

Law lowkey makes you ride his thigh.

You give him bedroom eyes and he knows immediately that you want him to rail you.

Law says no—sometimes he likes seeing you whine and beg for it.

Obviously, he gets immediately aroused at the thought of you pleading for his cock but today he wants something else.

“You really want it? I’m gonna need a little convincing today.”

You think that he just wants you to give him head, but he simply crosses his arms and says “that’s not what I meant.”

When you ask him what he did mean, he tells you take off your pants and straddle his thigh.

“If you want me to fuck you so bad, you’re going to work for it, sweetheart.”

You’re confused as fuck and half naked. He tells you to put your hands on his shoulders, and then he puts his hands on your waist.

“What are you waiting for?” His look is deadpan, his tone is annoyed and cold, but behind those breath-taking eyes you see a fire roaring. You’re not quite sure what he means, but you’re willing to do anything if it means that he’ll put his cock in you later.

Law starts to bounce his knee and you immediately get the memo.

“Law, you want me to get off on your thigh? That’s embarrassing.”

“I don’t care what it is. Now move.”

He uses his leverage on your waist to push you down on his thigh while he bounces his knee. Your initial confusion is quickly thrown to the side as the friction on your clit builds.

Heat starts to pool in your core.

After a few moments of rubbing your throbbing cunt back and forth on Law’s thigh, your panties start to saturate. You can see that Law is hard already.

When you start letting out needy puffs of breath and muted whines, Law can’t help himself. He wants to see you as worked up as he can.

“Pick up the pace, beautiful. Show me how badly you want it.” Law purrs, his voice is deep. He’s trying to conceal how starving he is for your pleasure. He needs to keep himself in control so he can see you just how he wants you.

You start to rut your hips faster, dragging your sopping wet panties and humping his thigh. You’re so wet that it’s seeping through his pants.

“Law, I want it.” You're begging.

“And what would that be?”

“Your cock. In me. Please Law.”

“Is that so? You’ll have to make do with this. I’ll fuck you after you cum.”

He smirks. You didn’t take long to get this desperate.

He bounces his thigh again and you start moaning his name—that heat and need building on your core are ready to explode.

“Are you going to cum on my thigh or what?”

He pushes your hips down forcefully and bounces his leg harder. It hits your clit and folds just right.

You cum aggressively, basically screaming his name. Your fingernails dig into his shoulders. It’s an overwhelming, all-encompassing feeling of pleasure. Unreal.

His bulge presses on his pants, painfully tight, and he knows that he’s about to fuck you until you can’t talk anymore.

“That’s more like it. Now take those off panties and let me put my cock in you.”

---

(´ ᴗ｀✿)

that’s all for this one :3 here's my masterlist if you're curious! and here's the initial request/my response~

ohoho? thigh riding, you say? >:3c may I request some headcanons of that with characters of your choice?

woooow anon thank u sm for this, this was amazing to write because I have a burning passionate love for man thighs. They are among my favorite things… I think I have a fetish for them or smth because I really really like them, could stare at a nice hairy thick pair of thighs for literal hours. >///<

[pomefioredove]

hello dovee! I saw the "I'd look good on you." and immediately thought of vil! if I could please request for that? THANK YOU SO MUCH🍰stay creative!

thank you everyone for feeding me vil requests. I got a little crazy with this one

summary: "I'd look good on you." type of post: short fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, a little suggestive a part of this event

"No, no, no, no. Wrong, dreadful,"

You dodge another designer handbag as it goes flying across Vil's room, joining the growing pile of clothes behind you.

"Why is this so difficult?" he groans, storming out of his closet. "I have not a SINGLE decent thing to wear for this interview."

You look over your shoulder, watching him as he begrudgingly begins to clean up the mess he'd made.

"I think you're stressed,"

Vil pauses midway through sliding a silken shirt back on its hanger to glare at you.

"Another excellent observation," he says dryly. Then, a sigh.

"Sorry. I've been wanting to work with this director for years... I don't care for this role, but if the film does well, he'll likely want to work with me again... How's this?"

He holds up a glittery purple dress in front of him. You blink.

"...Good,"

"Ugh," he scoffs, tossing it aside. You don't know how many more times you can tell him he looks good in everything before he kicks you out.

"What is the role, anyway?"

Vil rolls his eyes, catching onto your attempt to distract him. He indulges, anyway.

"Another villain, although this film is more of a..." he pauses, gesturing vaguely. You stare. "...A young adult movie."

"So it's bait for teenage girls?"

"...Essentially,"

He sighs again, cleaning up the last of his temper tantrum and sorting it in his massive closet.

"Thus my role is more... provocative, we'll say. Which is fine, if not for the fact that I feel I did horribly,"

"I'm sure you didn't,"

"I'll be a laughing stock, this director will never work with me again, and I'll become one of those pathetic, washed up former child stars by age twenty-one,"

That feels... a tad overdramatic, but you don't mention it.

"That's not going to happen," you insist. "I'm sure you make a great... provocative... villain!"

Vil sighs, returning to the bedside to sit with you. For a brief moment, you can feel him staring, but you say nothing of it.

"You haven't even seen it," he mumbles, finally looking away. "I only have half an hour... I feel completely unassured."

You can't help but feel pity. Before knowing Vil, you had stupidly assumed that most celebrities are confident by nature, exuding grace and certainty.

Now...

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

Vil quiets, seeming to consider the offer. "...May I use a line on you?"

You're not exactly sure what he means by that, but it can't be anything too painful. He only has half an hour, after all.

You nod.

Vil smiles, then turns away. He takes a deep breath... you've seen this before. He's getting into character.

It's very effective.

When he turns back, his expression is completely different. And his body language. Even his very presence has shifted.

You've seen this before, you remind yourself. The dangerous, menacing facade that he's known for, that makes his roles so iconic...

But he's also smiling, his eyes lowered, a pleasantly amused look about him.

His hand finds its way to the bed on your other side, effectively caging you between his arms. And then he moves in, guiding you down onto the mattress and leaning over your body.

This is your friend. You're just helping him. There's nothing to be nervous about.

Despite what you tell yourself, you can feel the effect he's having on you.

He can tell, too.

Vil tuts, his free hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Scared?" he asks. His voice is gentle, though there's a lingering danger behind it.

"Poor thing... I won't bite,"

He leans closer, his other hand intertwining with yours and keeping it pinned to the mattress, hot breath pressing against your ear.

"I'd look good on you," he whispers.

You know you shouldn't interrupt him, but you can't stop the nervous, flustered whine that comes out of your throat.

Vil breaks character, beaming, and gets off of you.

"Oh, my..." he grins, studying your expression. "You were right. I was worried over nothing."

He stands, smoothing out his clothes, and strides towards the closet to change, leaving you flustered senseless on the bed until he returns.

"How do I look?" he asks.

Of course, perfect. He always looks perfect. And now that he's confident again, gorgeous.

He smirks. "I'll take your silence as a compliment, potato. Thank you for the boost... I'll be back to pick up where we left off in a few hours,"

[chvoswxtch]

let's play

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader x derek morgan x spencer reid

summary: sharing is caring, afterall.

warnings: once again, every single one of them. swearing, spencer whimpering, daddy hotch, derek morgan's blinding charming ass smile, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

word count: 4.9k

a/n: the highly requested and anticipated sequel to slumber party has arrived. once again, there is no plot, bc none of you came here for that. you don't have to read part one to understand this installment, but it is highly encouraged. please enjoy this lil valentine's treat from me to you. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

Before Hotch or Derek even had a chance to step foot into Spencer’s hotel room, Spencer had kicked it shut behind himself after ushering you inside. The two men exchanged looks of confusion, glancing between each other and the closed door in front of them. Derek held his bag by the handles over his shoulder in one hand, and when he went to twist the knob on the door, it was locked. He raised his fist to lightly knock against the door.

“Hey Reid-”

“Come back in an hour.”

Derek’s ebony brows instantly pinched together, and he tossed Hotch an incredulous look over his shoulder.

“What’d he just say?”

Hotch’s permanent scowl abruptly returned to his sharp features as he stepped forward, raising his fist to pound harshly against the door.

“Reid, open this door, now.”

“In an hour.”

Derek let out a scoff, dropping his bag onto the floor with a loud thud.

“What happened to sharing, pretty boy?”

“We will, in fifty-nine minutes.”

Spencer’s voice was somewhat muffled through the thickness of the door, and it sounded far away, like he was deeper inside the room. Before either of them could say another word, a loud moan suddenly sounded from inside that clearly belonged to you. Hotch clenched his jaw while Derek stepped forward with an expression of pure irritation.

“Reid, either you open this door, or I’m kicking it down so help me-”

Hotch placed his palm against Derek’s chest and gave a slight shake of his head. Without another word, Hotch reached into his pocket and produced a room key, and in one swipe, a click followed by a flashing green light signaled that the door was unlocked. Hotch twisted the knob and pushed the door open, stepping into the room with Derek hot on his heels. 

Spencer’s head perked up from between your thighs at the abrupt intrusion, his lips and chin already glistening with your arousal, and a concoction of puzzlement and vexation knit his brows together.

“How-”

Hotch held up his right hand with the key card nestled between his index and middle finger, arching one of his thick brows in a pointed expression.

“You think I don’t have a master key to each of my agent’s rooms for emergency purposes?”

While on his knees in front of the bed with his hands clamped firmly around your soft thighs, Spencer stared at the key in Hotch’s hand as if it had personally wronged him. He hadn’t planned for that. He had planned on having you all to himself for an hour before he had to share.

“Son of a bitch.”

Derek’s mouth instantly parted into an amused tooth bearing grin at Spencer’s outburst of realization, and he chuckled while crossing his arms over his chest, causing his light gray t-shirt to stretch over his firm chest and large biceps.

“Nothing like a pretty girl to slice that genius IQ right in half. Isn’t that right, baby girl?”

Raising up on your elbows on the bed, you glanced over at Derek with a faint smirk as you arched one of your brows in a teasing gesture.

“I don’t know what you’re getting cocky about. He’s the one with the eidetic memory of the female anatomy and what I like.”

“Oh it’s like that, huh? Do I need to remind you who in this room has the most practice with female anatomy? Cause I seem to remember you feeling pretty satisfied on the jet earlier.”

Slipping your hand down into the mess of light brown curls on top of Spencer’s head, you gave his hair a gentle tug to guide his mouth back to where you wanted it, a silent command he happily obliged. Feeling the warmth of Spencer’s wet tongue starting to glide slowly over your clit again, you laid back against the mattress once more and closed your eyes while a soft sigh emitted from your parted lips.

“A little refresher course never hurt anyone. Take a seat, boys. Dr. Reid is giving an oral presentation.”

Whatever argument Hotch or Derek had quickly died on their tongues as they became entranced watching Spencer sensually and slowly eat your pussy from his spot on his knees at the edge of the bed. The four of you had spent the past twelve hours since the jet landed making your rounds at the police station, visiting the scene of the crime, and the medical examiner’s office before Hotch finally decided it was time to check into the hotel. All of you were beyond exhausted, but none of you could stop thinking about what was going to happen the second the four of you were finally alone together.

There had been a buzzing energy surrounding the four of you since you stepped off the jet with the promise of more in the back of everyone’s minds.

As much as their hands were itching to touch you, Hotch and Derek couldn’t tear their eyes away from the enticing show taking place in front of them. The way your body writhed gently against the mattress, the rhythm of your hips rolling back and forth against Spencer’s face like a delicate ocean tide, the soft and hedonistic noises of pleasure that rose in volume and pitch as Spencer devoured you like a man on death row savoring his last meal.

“At least we found a way to shut him up.”

Hotch softly grinned at Derek’s quiet quip while reaching up to loosen the knot on his tie completely, slipping it from around his neck. 

“Silver lining. Help her get more comfortable, would you?”

Derek grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it carelessly behind himself. As soon as his belt was unbuckled, he kicked off his shoes and pushed his jeans down to his ankles to step out of them, leaving him in a white pair of briefs that were already bulging from his half hard cock.

“Way ahead of you.”

Taking a few steps over towards the large bed, Derek moved to sit on his knees right behind your head and leaned forward to grab the bottom of your dress that was bunched up around your hips. He pulled it upwards to slip it off of you, leaving you completely exposed. The cool temperature in the room quickly had your nipples rising to stiff peaks, and you shivered when Derek’s large and warm hands began to squeeze your breasts firmly. Letting your eyes flutter open, you stared up into Derek’s deep and warm chocolate brown eyes as he flashed you that charming grin that never failed to make you weak in the knees.

“Reid putting his mouth to good use?”

Sinking your top teeth into your bottom lip, you arched your back slightly off the mattress and moaned in response as Spencer trapped your clit between his soft lips and began to suck fervently. In return, you gave his hair a rough tug which had a moan of his own vibrating against your soaked cunt. The vibrations echoed throughout your trembling thighs, and your stomach felt tight with anticipation for what was coming, and what would follow afterwards.

Derek toyed with your sensitive nipples, alternating between flicking his thumbs over them, rolling them between his thumb and index finger, and pinching gently. He leaned over you, teasingly gliding his tongue in a languid circle around your hardened nub before sucking it into his mouth and biting down gently, causing you to tug harder at Spencer’s unruly roots. The combination of the stimulation from Derek and Spencer was almost too much, and it had you barreling towards euphoria quickly.

Opening your eyes, you were immediately drawn to the sight of Hotch sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, watching intently while a haze of lust darkened his eyes to the deepest shade you had ever seen them. He was still fully dressed in his suit, but he held his tie tightly in his right hand, and a jolt of excitement rushed through your nervous system.

“Who’s that for?”

Hotch lifted his gaze from Spencer’s head between your thighs to meet your eyes, and a wicked smirk tugged at the edge of his mouth.

“Now if I told you, that would ruin the surprise, wouldn’t it?”

Oh.

Hotch was in the mood to play. 

The more comfortable the four of you got with your little arrangement, the more everyone started to see the real version of one another in the bedroom. Out of the three men, Hotch was by far the most dominant, and enjoyed being in complete control, which wasn’t really a surprise to anyone. But the fetishes that lurked beneath the surface did catch you off guard from time to time. 

Derek wasn’t too keen on being tied up, unless you talked him into it on rare occasions, so you and Spencer were usually the object of Hotch’s bondage fantasies. You didn’t realize you would enjoy being completely at someone else’s mercy so much, but with Hotch, you found it incredibly erotic. Everything he did was to maximize your pleasure. He may have liked being in control, but out of the three of them, he definitely took the cake for being a giver.

The second Spencer gently grazed his teeth over your sensitive clit, your orgasm unexpectedly crashed over you without warning, and your body seized up while repetitive cries of pleasure tore through your chest. Gripping the sheets so hard in your fists your knuckles turned stark white, you tried to weakly pull away from Spencer’s delectable assault on your overstimulated clit, but Derek held your hips down firmly so that Spencer could continue to ravenously collect every drop you had to offer. 

The line between pleasure and pain was beginning to blur, and relief only came when Hotch grabbed Spencer by his hair and tugged his head backwards before pulling him up to his feet. Spencer’s pupils were completely blown open with lust, and his lips were somewhat swollen as they glistened with the burst of gratification he had wrung from you. He was lightly panting trying to catch his own breath.

“That’s enough.”

“But I-”

“You get to fuck her when I say you can. Understood?”

Spencer’s hands clenched into tight fists at his sides, one of his physical tells that he was aroused and trying to contain himself. He swallowed thickly and nodded his head in silent obedience. The deep and calm tone of Hotch’s voice was laced with a delicate warning, letting all three of you know that there was no room for debate regarding who was in control tonight.

You didn’t call him “Daddy of the BAU” for nothing.

“Yes sir.”

Releasing his grip on Spencer’s hair, Hotch grabbed onto the back of his neck instead and pulled him in to kiss him deeply, swiping his tongue along Spencer’s bottom lip and biting it roughly while humming in appreciation at the taste of you that lingered. A low growl sounded from deep within Hotch’s chest as he let go of Spencer.

“Good boy. Get undressed and switch places with Morgan.”

While Derek and Spencer swapped places, you moved to sit up on wobbly knees, and Hotch stepped forward to capture your jaw in his large hand, his ring and pinky finger resting along your neck against your pulse point to feel the thrum of your pounding heartbeat. His thumb brushed along your bottom lip lightly, and a flash of pure lust eclipsed over his darkened eyes when you wrapped your lips around it and pressed your tongue firmly against the pad of his thumb. He bent down to where your noses were just barely an inch apart.

“Do you think you could handle two of us at once, sweetheart?”

Your eyes instantly lit up at the question. Normally they all took turns with you, or one fucked you while you sucked another off. You had only taken two of them at once twice before, and while it caused a lingering ache for the following days after, it was absolutely worth it. Nodding your head eagerly, Hotch let out a dark chuckle as a crooked grin split across his lips.

“Good girl.”

Tearing his gaze away, Hotch looked at Derek and tossed him the tie that was in his hand, gesturing with his head towards Spencer’s direction.

“I want his hands tied to the bed.”

Derek turned to look down at Spencer with an amused smirk, taking a step closer towards the edge of the bed as he straightened out the tie in his hands.

“You heard ‘em, pretty boy. Lemme see those hands.”

Spencer let out a whine of protest, turning his head to look at Hotch with a pleading expression, but Hotch gave a firm shake of his head while slipping his jacket off of his broad shoulders and down his arms. 

“You follow the rules, you get what you want. You act like a brat, you get treated like one. Next time, you open the door when I tell you to. Give Morgan your hands.”

While Derek slipped the fabric around Spencer’s wrists in an intricate labyrinth to bind them together and tied them to the headboard with Hotch’s tie, Hotch took his time unbuttoning his dress shirt. You watched over your shoulder as Derek expertly weaved the tie around Spencer’s wrists with a soft pout on your lips.

“Don’t think I forgot about you.”

Before you had a moment to process the sound of Hotch unbuckling his belt, he grabbed your hips and twisted your body around to face Spencer, and just as quickly pulled your arms behind your back. Grabbing your wrists in one of his large hands, Hotch slipped the leather of his belt around them to secure your wrists together tightly. Your lips parted in surprise while you gazed down at Spencer below you. His arms were raised above his head, wrists crossed one over the other and bound to the headboard by Hotch’s black tie, the pupils of his eyes blown so wide they nearly obscured the hazel ring of his irises.

Your eyes fell to the sight of his hard cock, fully erect and standing proud to attention, the swollen tip a deep shade of rose and glossed over with weeping arousal. You could see the muscles in his lower abdomen tighten as you noticed him very tenuously flexing his hips upwards against nothing in search of friction. 

“He looks pretty like this, doesn’t he?”

Hotch whispered lowly in your ear, the warmth of his breath against your delicate skin causing you to shudder in response and arch your back subtly. 

“Yes.”

“Tell him.”

Staring down directly into Spencer’s eyes, a soft whimper caught in your throat while a fresh tide of arousal leaked between your thighs.

“You look so pretty like this, Spence.”

Hotch’s rough hands firmly gripped onto your hips as he pressed his bare chest flush against your back. You could feel his hard cock pressing against your lower back, and you instinctively pushed your ass back against him which caused him to dig his blunt nails into your soft flesh.

“Behave.”

Hotch quietly hissed between clenched teeth. Brushing your hair off your bare shoulder, he nuzzled his nose against the column of your neck and took your earlobe between his teeth, biting down roughly before gliding his tongue along the shell of your ear. A quiet shuddering breath slipped past your lips, and you could feel Hotch grin against your neck.

“Now, listen closely. I want you to ride Spencer while I fuck you from behind, and I want you to open that pretty mouth nice and wide to take Derek’s cock. Understood?”

Derek reached out to cradle your jaw in his large hand, gently tugging your bottom lip down with his thumb as he leaned in and pressed a teasing kiss right beneath your ear, whispering in a sultry voice.

“Think you can handle that, baby girl?”

“She can handle it. She’s a good girl.”

Despite being bound to the bed, Spencer’s voice had a rough and somewhat dominant cadence to it as he spoke matter of factly. All three men shared a knowing look between each other before Hotch smacked his palm against your ass, drawing your attention back to the present with a soft gasp tearing from your lips, reminding you that he expected an answer. Swallowing thickly, you nodded eagerly in a breathless voice.

“Yes.”

Derek arched one of his onyx brows as he slipped his hand down from your jaw down to your throat, giving it a faint squeeze.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes sir.”

Derek’s lips parted into a dazzling proud grin. He slipped his hand down between your thighs, his index and middle finger experimentally slipping inside your soaked cunt while his thumb teasingly brushed over your sensitive clit. A sharp moan tore from your chest while you clamped your thighs around Derek’s hand, and his dark brown eyes flickered over your shoulder to give Hotch a slight nod of his head.

“Oh she’s more than ready.”

A whimper escaped your lips when Derek retracted his hand and lifted his fingers to his lips to lick them clean. Hotch lifted you up slightly to move you forward, causing you to straddle Spencer’s hips. Both of you let out a piercing whine as the head of his throbbing cock brushed against your pulsing clit, and as a deep chuckle rumbled in Hotch’s chest, you felt it vibrating against your back.

“Good. Then let’s play.”

Reaching down between you and Spencer, Derek wrapped his hands around the base of Spencer’s hard cock, which had Spencer hissing softly and lightly shifting his hips upwards. As Hotch gripped onto your hips and guided you forward, Derek assisted in aligning your body to help you slowly sink down on Spencer’s cock. Spencer had been watching earnestly, but as soon as your welcoming heat enveloped him completely and he bottomed out inside of you, his head fell back against the pillows as he let out a strangled moan, his jaw going slack and his eyes screwed shut. 

“Oh f-fuck…”

Spencer was by far the most vocal out of the three of them, and it always filled you with a rush of excitement being able to tear such alluring noises from his pretty mouth.

Giving you only a few seconds to adjust, Hotch placed his palm between your shoulder blades and pushed you forwards, causing you to lean over Spencer completely while Derek moved your hair away from your face. The only reason you hadn’t fallen over was because Hotch had a tight hold on the belt that was bound around your wrists, keeping you suspended in the exact position he wanted you in. Spitting into his palm, Hotch used his saliva as a lubricant to coat the length of his cock as he positioned himself behind you, lifting your hips slightly to make you arch your back and align your ass further up into the air.

“Take a deep breath for me, baby.”

Sucking in a sharp inhale, you dug your nails deeply into the skin of your palms in anticipation. Hotch reached around your body to strum his index and middle finger in quick circles over your clit, ripping a surprised moan from deep within your chest. Thanks to the orgasm Spencer had given you, your body was more relaxed, and your pussy was still slick with your release which made it easier for Hotch to join Spencer inside you. When you felt the blunt head of Hotch’s cock nudging against Spencer’s and slowly stretching you out inch by divine inch, your jaw became fully unhinged and your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head.

“Ohmygod-”

The voice that echoed from your throat didn’t even sound like it belonged to you. It was depleted of oxygen and came out in such a rush that your own ears had trouble unscrambling the words. The sound of Hotch letting out a guttural moan behind you sounded like thunder booming right in your ears. The serrated sting between your thighs was impossible to ignore as your spongy walls were stretched to accommodate them both, but the discomfort paled in comparison to the succulent fullness that you felt. Hotch continued to stimulate jolts of pleasure by strumming your clit with his index and middle fingers, trying to help your body to relax and adjust to the new and overwhelming intrusion. 

“Shh…there you go. Just breathe, baby girl.”

Derek was lovingly stroking his fingers through your hair while reminding you to perform such a basic subconscious action. As you struggled to suck in deep breaths, Spencer was impatiently thrusting his hips upwards in a slow rhythm, his biceps flexing while he tugged at the restraints on his wrist. Hotch gripped onto your hips tightly to keep you from falling on top of Spencer, his blunt nails leaving crescent shaped indentations on your soft hips. Once he felt the tension evaporate and your muscles loosening, he started to flex his hips forward to match Spencer’s delicate rhythm.

The composition of their conduction had your body swaying to the idle tempo they had silently established. Spencer and Hotch held you securely between their thighs, gliding back and forth over your delicate strings, coaxing legato notes of pleasure from your lips. 

Once Derek could see that you were completely relaxed and ready for more, he moved in closer and brushed his thumb along your bottom lip, a silent signal you instantly obeyed by parting your lips eagerly. A deep sigh of appreciation sounded from Derek’s chest when he slowly slipped his cock past your lips, and he gently traced his thumb along your cheekbone while you moaned at the feeling of his velvet weight caressing your tongue. 

This was the first time you had ever taken all three of them at once like this, and it was almost entirely too overwhelming. Every single one of your senses was overstimulated. 

Despite the three of them wearing starkly unique colognes, it was impossible to discern which smell belonged to who. Each of their scents perfectly mixed in with your own, creating one indistinguishable fragrance that enveloped you entirely and left you feeling intoxicated and light headed. Your skin was overheated already from the intensity of the moment, but also from the warmth that radiated naturally from each one of them; Hotch’s chest flush against your back, Derek’s palms caressing your cheeks, and Spencer’s thighs lightly smacking against your own. 

Even though your heart was pounding in your ears to the point of being deafening, you could hear the heavenly noises escaping each of them. Spencer was whimpering beneath you, begging for you to ride him harder. Derek was panting breathlessly above you, whispering softly how good you felt. Hotch was letting out deep growls and grunts as he moved behind you, demanding lowly in your ear that you take everything he was giving you.

The salty tang of Derek’s leaking arousal coated your tongue, but you could also still taste the roasted blonde espresso from Spencer’s lips and the fresh wintergreen mint that lingered on Hotch’s tongue. The pleasure was getting to be too much, and you couldn’t hardly keep your eyes open. You weren’t even on the brink of another orgasm yet, but there was already a firework show happening behind your eyelids. 

Something about this moment was so incredibly perfect, like this was where you all belonged. 

Together.

This wasn’t just about sex. It never had been. A piece of you had always belonged to each of them, and vice versa, ever since that first night in Vegas. There was just something about the four of you together that couldn’t be explained, but you all felt it every time you were with each other like this.

A single reaction from one of you set off a chain reaction for the rest of you. Hotch started to snap his hips in more powerful and precise thrusts, causing you to grind down harder on Spencer’s cock, and the vibrations of you moaning around Derek’s cock caused his own rhythm to become sloppy and falter when he began to fuck your face. 

The air in the hotel room was thick with heat and sweat like a sauna, and a cacophony of intermingled moans and grunts of satisfaction grew louder and louder the closer you all got to reaching a peak as grand as Everest. The second one of you jumped off the top to free fall, the rest of you would follow.

Spencer was the first to break. He was so far gone he couldn’t even get a warning out, but the second he released inside of you with a loud shout of your name, his spasming hips caused his pubic bone to bump against your clit repeatedly just right to set off your own orgasm. Hotch was fucking you relentlessly from behind as he chased his own high, and the contraction of your walls combined with the flood of yours and Spencer’s release made him double over as he grunted loudly, resting his forehead against your middle back while pumping his seed deeper and deeper within you. Derek was the last to fall apart. He let his head fall back while closing his eyes, his beautiful features twisted up in pure ecstasy as he let out a sensual moan while spilling down your throat.

The four of you were stuck together in a sweaty pile on the bed and no one wanted to move. Derek slowly slipped his softened cock from your lips so you could gasp for air, and he gently ran his fingers through your hair to help you calm down. Hotch did his best to carefully pull out, but the sudden movement had you crying out and tensing up. Hotch peppered gentle kisses along your shoulder blades, shushing you quietly while removing the leather restraint of his belt from your wrists and massaging them gently. Without him holding you up by your hips, you collapsed face first into Spencer’s chest.

When Derek freed Spencer’s wrists from the headboard, Spencer immediately wrapped his arms securely around your trembling frame and cradled your head against his chest. He didn’t dare move, letting himself soften inside of you as he held you there, pressing his lips to your forehead in a soft kiss and delicately carding his fingers through your hair.

Each one of you were panting hard, trying to regain your bearings from such an intense experience, but they had catapulted you so far up into the clouds, you weren’t sure you could ever make it down. It felt as if you had stuck your finger into an outlet, sending an intense shock throughout your entire body, the lingering electricity still crackling with the faintest jolts of motion. Their voices were distant and muffled, like your head was underwater, and you couldn’t focus on anything except the blackness that pulled over the entire horizon behind your eyelids.

Moments later, something cold and wet was pressed against the back of your neck, causing a shiver to spread throughout your body. When your eyes lazily fluttered open, you were met with the dim light of the hotel room, and as you slowly lifted your head, Spencer began to come into focus in front of you. He was laying back against the pillows watching you, holding a washcloth soaked in cold water against the back of your neck while still slipping his fingers through your hair with his other hand. He gently wiped the washcloth over both of your heated cheeks and flashed you a dopey grin.

“Welcome back to Earth, pretty girl.”

A faint blush tinted your cheeks as you looked at him with a tired smile, humming softly while nuzzling into the warmth of his body as you hugged him. “Hi.”

Hearing the sweet and sleepy mumble from your lips, Spencer leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Hotch and Morgan went to grab us some dinner. They’ll be back in a bit. How are you feeling?”

“Sticky.”

Spencer erupted in laughter at the adorable pout on your lips, nodding as he brushed a strand of your hair out of your face.

“There were a lot of bodily fluids being exchanged.”

“Okay, it sounds gross when you say it like that.”

“Is ‘you did have three guys come inside you at once’ better?”

Scrunching up your nose, you weakly lifted your hand to press your index finger against Spencer’s soft lips with a quiet laugh.

“Please shut up.”

Spencer chuckled as he pressed a soft kiss to your finger, tossing the wet washcloth onto the nightstand by the bed.

“Fine. How about a shower?”

“Too much standing.”

“A bath?”

Pretending to think it over, you eventually let out a soft exhale while gazing into Spencer’s hazel eyes with a teasing grin.

“Spencer Reid, you’re a genius.”

The edge of Spencer’s lips tugged upwards into a playful smirk, and he rolled his eyes at your lame joke. He moved to sit up, slipping one of his arms underneath your knees and his other around your waist so he could lift you up into his embrace to carry you towards the bathroom.

“So I’ve been told.”

tags: @mars-rants-a-lot @ninejloveb0t @oscarisaacsleftknee @ameliaswife @Vane28282 @kmc1989 @viscade @starsm00n @kenseverything @storiesofsvu @sabage101 @spiritofthewriter  @geeksareunique @urlocalgeek @avencol

[barcaatthemoon]

priorities || barcelona x teen!reader ||

you being late brings up a lot more problems.

"shit," you swore to yourself. you couldn't be late again, alexia had really been on your ass. there were talks of benching you until you could show the team that you wanted to be there. it wasn't your fault that your parents left you to fend for yourself. their reasoning was that if you wanted to act like an adult, then they'd treat you like one. it didn't matter that you weren't old enough to drive yourself anywhere like to practice.

you were a sweating mess by the time that you had gotten to the stadium. the last four blocks from the bus stop to work had been sprinted. you hated having to make that trek normally, but it was even worse whenever the weather was as hot as it was. all you could do was get ready and hope that jona didn't want to talk to you privately.

"nena, where have you been?" all of the team was staring at you as you made your way onto the field. you searched for alexia's eyes and immediately wished that you hadn't. she was looking at you with a look of pure disappointment, like you had completely disregarded her last lecture to you.

"(y/n), come with me," alexia told you. her tone was stern, nearly as much as her expression. you were practically shaking in your boots as you followed her away from everybody else. if she would have just pulled you to the sidelines, it wouldn't have been so bad, but alexia walked you fully away from the field over to the tunnels.

"alexia, before you start, i'm sorry," you apologized. alexia didn't even acknowledge what you said, which you knew meant that she was angry with you. you shrunk back before she even started yelling at you, glancing over towards where the other players were barely visible on the field.

"that does not mean anything to me when you continue to arrive at practice late. how many times do we have to talk about this? before when you played it was for fun, but this is your job. you aren't just here to practice and play in games, there are more responsibilities that come with being a member of the senior team. i am done with babying you, so until you can prove that you're willing to do what is needed like arriving on time, you are on your own." alexia didn't once raise her voice. she walked away from you and back to the field. you stood there with your lip trembling as tears began to fall down your cheeks.

you just barely managed to compose yourself before you joined the team on the field. jona made you run laps while they did their scrimmage games. during lunch, you sat by yourself. alexia was usually your lunch partner, but you assumed that she wanted nothing to do with you.

"hola, nena," irene greeted you. none of the girls liked seeing you sit and eat alone, but irene was the only one alexia wouldn't get onto for sitting with you during your punishment. if anything, alexia trusted her to lecture you as well.

"hola irene," you mumbled. you didn't look up from your plate of food, which you had been pushing around for the past 20 minutes. there were only ten or so minutes left before you had to move on to watch film and go to the gym, but you couldn't bring yourself to take a single bite.

"you should eat. you ran a lot in practice and we're going to the gym later. it would make me and some of the other girls feel a lot better if you would try to take a few bites," irene said. you glanced up at her, which was a mistake. almost immediately, tears returned to your eyes. you practically sprinted out of there to avoid letting them see you cry.

none of the girls came after you. alexia did a good job of keeping everybody away from you while you all watched film. you had your little notepad to take notes, mostly on your opponents since you already didn't get much playing time. a few of the younger girls kept staring at you, and several times you found yourself meeting vicky or jana's gaze.

the gym wasn't much better. you kept your head down and only used machines so that you didn't need a spotter. you kept to areas where nobody else was, and any time that you thought someone was approaching you, you'd leave. once you finished your required reps in the gym, you went out to the field, knowing that you had to run laps after everything.

there wasn't anybody watching you on the field when you first got out there, but slowly, more and more of the girls filed out to the seats to watch you. you didn't pay any attention to any of them. you wanted them to leave so that you could get home, but they didn't budge. and so, you kept running and running. at least an hour had to have passed, possibly more before your body started to forcibly slow down.

"nena!" mapi called out as she watched you drop down to your knees. you had been mid-run, and while it didn't look like a blowout, mapi was paranoid. she took off in a sprint towards you, as did most of the backline that you had been playing with. "are you okay? where does it hurt?"

"mapi, back up, give her some space," alexia said. at that, mapi shot up and lunged at her captain. it took everybody except for lucy getting between them to keep them away from each other. alexia was pulled away from you completely while lucy dropped down to check on you.

"hey kiddo, just breathe for me, okay? can you breathe with me?" lucy asked. she motioned for you to inhale and exhale with her slowly. everybody had been so caught up with the thought of you being injured that they hadn't really checked on you until lucy. she got you sitting up, which was when you clung to her in a hug.

"i was so scared. i just stopped breathing," you told her. there was no holding back your tears. you sobbed openly into lucy's shirt. the medics were waved off, but they left a bottle of water and some options for a snack with the girls on the pitch. "i don't know what happened."

"you overexerted yourself. it's been a busy day for you, and patri mentioned that you looked a little tired when you got here. did you sleep okay last night?" lucy asked you.

"i slept fine," you promised her. lucy ran through a little checklist of questions before marta interrupted her.

"how did you get here nena?" marta asked. at that, you glanced down at your hands and mumbled out the truth. you hoped that none of them would hear you and drop it, but that wasn't the case.

"speak up." this time, it was irene's stern voice that forced it out of you. there was a gentleness to it that alexia's lacked, which was why you repeated yourself for them in the first place.

"i took the bus, then walked," you answered. you weren't proud of admitting it, knowing how dumb that was. irene and marta's faces dropped at your words. they knew how far your home was from the first bus station, and then the other four blocks was not exactly light travel.

"if you ever need a ride anywhere, you tell one of us, got it?" marta leaned in and cradled your face in her hands. "i don't care if it is for something stupid, you call someone."

"yes ma'am," you said quietly. there was still a bit of wheezing when you breathed, but you had pretty much stopped crying. "i'm not in trouble am i?"

"not for this nena, not for this," irene said. she left you to go talk to jona and alexia. patri and pina offered to take you back with them, promising that the three of you could have a fun sleepover with vicky and jana if you were up to it. you were in the locker room changing when alexia came up to you again.

"(y/n), there are some things that i would like to say to you," alexia said. she seemed nervous, which threw you for a loop. you were so used to alexia being confident and sure of herself.

"go ahead," you muttered quietly.

"i am sorry for being so harsh on you earlier. that isn't fair to you, and i will work to be better in the future. irene informed me of how you've been getting to practice, and i figured that your house is not too far from my apartment complex. if you are okay with it, i would like to pick you up for practice. we may need to come in a bit early some days, but i have full confidence that one day you will have captain duties." alexia cracked a small smile at you, one that helped relax you a little. "you don't have to, but it would mean a lot to me if you accepted my apology."

"i do," you said quietly. a part of you was just doing it because she was your captain and you didn't want alexia to be mad at you. still, you appreciated that alexia sought you out to apologize for being so strict with you earlier.

"nena, are you ready?" pina asked as she poked her head into the locker room. her eyes fell to alexia, and pina stepped fully into the locker room ready to square up with her captain. "is she bothering you, nena?"

"it's fine, pina. ale was just apologizing. let's go, i want to take a nap before vicky's parents drop her off," you said. pina helped you carry your bag out to patri's car. both women kept a close eye on you, seeing you as their responsibility to look after. you were like their child, not that any of you would say it to one another.

[gilverrwrites]

Meet Cutes Uglies Ft. Bruce, Dick, and Jason

GN!Reader, ≈500 words each

CWs: Mild/nonexplicit threats of violence, slut-shaming (but not really), swearing.

Bruce

The chances of bumping into a celebrity not once, twice, thrice, but four times in one day are low, but not impossible as you’re finding out.

It was kinda cool realising you’re stood behind him in line at the coffee shop, but not spectacularly cool or anything. Almost everyone you knew had a story about meeting Bruce, or another member of the Wayne family out in public so you weren’t overly excited. You just kept your head down, scrolling through your socials and wondering whether his drink was the iced cold brew, the fudge brownie hot chocolate, or the three pump vanilla no foam cappuccino. Your friend Jade was right, he is far ‘hunkier’ than the media gives him credit for, his piercing eyes really are that blue, and he smells good too, like bergamot and cedar.

It became somewhat more exciting when you'd headed to the library on your lunch break to return a book, only for him to already be there, chatting-up the librarians no less. Your friends were not going to believe this. He must sense you staring at him because he turns to look at you, when you make eye contact you smile, wondering if he might recognise you from the morning. He did not smile back.

Upon returning to work, the rest of your shift had been gruelling, job after job being piled onto your shoulders with minimal time to get them all done. You hadn’t even had the chance to tell your co-workers about your unlikely encounters with Gotham’s richest man. By the time you got off for the night, you were exhausted, the thought of having to cook dinner and wash the pots once you got home looming over you like a rain cloud until you decide to grab some take-out on your way home instead.

You’re barely out of the doors of Big Belly Burgers, a handful of fries hanging from your lips when you see him for the 3rd time. Bruce Wayne, on the sidewalk across the street, engrossed in what seemed to be a very intense telephone call. Weird.

You don’t have to wait long for the fourth encounter, it happens just a few blocks from your home. He’s much closer this time, a little too close for comfort maybe. You hadn’t seen it coming, one moment you’re rifling through your bag, looking for your keys, the next you’re suspended a few inches from the ground by a pair of strong hands fisted into the collar of your jacket. Instinctively you paw at him, one hand wrapping around his wrist, the other bunching up in the fabric of his sweater for faux support.  

You think for a moment you’re being mugged, until the familiar smell of wood and citrus hits your senses. Bruce Wayne is pressing you against the cold, damp wall of an alleyway, handsome face marred by its stern expression.

“Who are you?” He demands. “And why are you following me?”

>[Continued]<

Dick

The only thing worse than the feel of the uneven, filth-trodden pavements of Blüdhaven against your bare feet, is the thought of putting the torturous pair of dress shoes you’d worn last night back on. Perhaps you should have asked your hookup for something to wear, but that would almost certainly guarantee your having to see them again in order to return it and you’d happily walk barefoot across Tartarus before you let that happen.

Careful to avoid stepping in anything less than savoury, you keep your eyes glued to the floor, so focused on the things below you, that you don’t notice the things in front of you. The person in front of you, until you plough right into their admittedly firm chest.

The person in question reeks of stale alcohol, his shiny hair is a mess, there’s a shadow forming on his striking jawline, and the half-undone shirt he’s wearing is clearly wrinkled and stained from the night before. A fellow walk-of-shamer.

You stare at each other for a long moment before you realise you had bumped into him, therefore you should be the one to speak first.

“Oh, uh, sorry.” You murmur, voice hoarse.

“No problem.” He replied, far too chipper for his current predicament. His eyes rake up and down your body, and you might be vexed by it if you had not just been doing the same to him. “Why aren’t you wearing your shoes.”

“They hurt my feet.” You shrug, taking a cautious sidestep around him as you speak. “Just want to get home, they were slowing me down.”

That should be the end of it, but the sound of his dress boots tapping against the sidewalk follows you down the street. You can’t be certain, but you were pretty sure he’d been walking in the opposite direction prior to your collision. You cast a glance over your shoulder, and sure enough, he’s just a few steps behind you, offering you a striking smile that almost makes the grey morning feel brighter.

“Proposal?” He asks, and you stop to listen. Possibly because you’re genuinely intrigued, probably because your brain isn’t awake enough to tell your heart that you shouldn’t talk to strangers. “If I can get you home without you having to use your feet, will you go out for breakfast with me?”

“You’re really asking me out during a walk of shame?” You snicker, impressed by his audacity.

“We don’t shame in 2024, I prefer to call it a stride of pride.” He informs you, and he has a point. “Besides, might be fate that we walked into each other this fine morning, gotta give it a chance, right?”

“Right.” You agree, but your raised brow and puckered lips might suggest some scepticism. He doesn’t seem put off however, still beaming that brilliant smile at you. “And how do you plan on getting me home?”

“Easy.” He shakes his head, conveying his confidence as he beckons you closer by curling two fingers towards himself. You follow his direction and before you can comprehend what’s going on he’s crouching before you, threading his body between your legs and lifting you on his back, piggy style.

“So, where do you live?”

Jason

The coffee shop is that perfect level of busy that's not overwhelming but isn't too quiet as to be unsettling. Your drink is the ideal temperature, and the evening sun is seeping through the windows at just the right angle to warm your skin and add a golden glow to the atmosphere. By all accounts, this should be the perfect, relaxing moment, except… this book sucks.

You’d thought after years of recommendations from friends, many critically acclaimed adaptions, and its general status as a must-read classic that it was high time you picked it up, but you were about two-thirds in and thoroughly not enjoying yourself.

“Excuse me.” A low voice draws you from the pages of the book. You hadn’t noticed the 6ft+ mountain of tattooed muscle casting a shadow over your table until you looked into his eyes. Oh wow. You don’t know why he’s approached you, but whatever it is; he can have it. “Are you reading Lady Liatris?”

“I am.” You confer, lazily tilting the cover to show him, despite your reading choice already being apparent.

“Nice to meet a fellow bibliophile out in the wild. What do you think of it so far?” He smiles at you, reaching out a hand, your heart sinks as his strong fingers wrap around your own for a handshake.

“Well….” Handsome, well-read, confident enough to approach you, and you were about to blow it with your brutal honesty. “I haven’t finished it yet, so I won’t commit, but so far I am not impressed.”

“What?” He actually flinched. “No way. Where are you up to?”

“I just finished the bit where Claude professed his love for Florance at the flower show, which was the drollest thing I’ve ever read, and it went on and on for far too many pages.” It was probably impolite for you to be venting so quickly to this stranger, but you just couldn’t help it, the words just kept coming. “Not to mention its total lack of realistic feminism, you can’t just unveil your fencing champion to secretly be a woman and call it a day, every other woman in this book is either a two-dimensional gossiping villain or a two-dimensional love interest for the male side characters.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” The mystery man shakes his head at you in disbelief as he situates himself in the chair across from your own. “First of all, it was a product of its time, and is widely considered to be one of the greatest pieces of feminist literature despite its origins, secondly, did you not read any of Evie’s subplot?”

The conversation continues that way, back and forth. He emphasises his points with big sweeping, passionate movements of his arms. He nods his head and purses his lips when you make arguably good points and grits his teeth when he disagrees with you. Neither of you notice when the sun goes down, or your drinks going cold until the barista informs you both that they’ll be closing in a few minutes.

Shit. You’d been debating classic-lit with this guy for at least 2 hours, and you didn’t even know his name. The sentiment appears to be shared because he offers you a comically confused frown as he puts his jacket back on and offers you a hand standing from your seat.

You exit the café into the cool night air together. You’re not sure if you should ask his name and invite him over, or say goodbye, fortunately, he removes the need to decide by handing you a napkin with his name and number jotted onto it in black marker. Jason.

“Call me when you’ve finished the book.” He instructs, and then he gone.

[magicdustsworld]

Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader; tw - Fellatio, cum swallowing, adultery; divider credits - @saradika-graphics

Imagine sucking off Yakuza boss!Sukuna while he is on a call.

Forced down to your knees, red tongue darting out to swirl over his frenulum—eliciting a lewd groan from him. Sukuna peers down at you, a corner of his lip curling up into a provocative sneer while maroon gaze scorches with an erotic desire.

"Yeah and? mhmm... what the fuck did Masume say?"

Holding the phone with his left hand, he brings up the pointer of his right to his lips—gesturing you to keep it low. (As if he really wants that?) You return his gaze with a leacherous one of your own—an invitation cum challenge he recognizes all to well. You pass a smirk and not a second later, you're eagerly accepting the glans penis inside your mouth. Lapping up at the tip, you proceed downwards, coating his entire cock with your saliva before readily sucking him off.

Sukuna's attention is allegedly on the call at hand. A blissful expression clouds over his eyes s he hums and murmurs curses under his breath while speaking to— whoever the fuck it is. However, as you go down on his cock, bopping your head in a to and fro motion, all to please him like a good girl, he just seems to not notice it. Taking it for granted, is he? Unknowingly, you scoff under your breath, trails of his musky precum settling on your tongue; you gulp them without much of a second thought.

You look up again and the same sight greets you. Yes, you know it may be an important call and you know you shouldn't do it. You still do it.

Your teeth grazes over his prepuce.

"Ngh Fuck– Huh? Nothing, just uh, don't worry. Whatcha' saying again?"

He glares at you, threading his fingers through your luscious strands; he tugs them back firmly. Mouth filled with cock, your protest only comes off as a jumbled mess. Leaning down, momentarily he retracts the phone from his ear, "Do this shit properly or this will be the last thing you'll be sucking." Said so, he is back to his call.

The threat lingers in the air—he isn't lying. You know. Countless times you have seen him snap the string of someone's life without an exchange of words. The grip of his Beretta M9 peaks out of his pocket, the looming peril and the sheer power he holds over you in this situation(and all the others) making itself stark clear. Despite the eminent danger oozing off of his body language, the thrill of it all sends a pulse to your core.

You clamp your legs tighter, the fabric of your panties brushing with your clitoris. Regardless, the warning does the job and as much of a desperate whore you can be for the man above you, you still want to watch and experience this charade play out.

Besides, you already got his attention, didn't you?

Gaze fixated on you, with both pair of teeth out in a menacing display akin to a ravenous beast being served, he watches you. You move your head back and forth, aiming to just give him a stellar fellatio while your cunt starts to drip with wanton need. You nibble on his his foreskin, forcing more of his girth inside your hot cavern, the wet muscle licking over the glans—raunchy moans escalating from you.

"Got over with– Ah shit! Where did you learn that? Wasn't speaking to you, just some maggots."

Seriously, maggots?

You deserve something more than that. However, before you can retract yourself from his cock, Sukuna’s strength comes to play. He, quite literally, forces you down on his cock till your smeared mulberry tinted lips wrap around his base. He buckles his hip, fucking your face on his own as he sets a relentless pace making tears to spring up your eyes. His cock head reaches so far and so deep that it hits your uvula. Manicured nails digging into the fabric of his pants, you try to balance yourself on your knees—task proving to be futile.

Guttural moans start to escape Sukuna as well. Struggling either to make sense of the speaker or let himself find reprieve with the way your mouth welcomes him.

The latter seems to win by a large mark.

"Heard ya' the first time, what the ahh– shit! You little minx," A smirk curves up his lips, forehead creasing as the product of erotigenic act knots in the pit of his stomach. "Fuck– wasn’t talking to you, bitch. Hang up."

No sooner he utters the last two words, the phone is discarded on the leather couch. He cages you in his grasp, lascivious noises releasing from him as the sweatbeads start to cling and drip down. The acrid smell of arousal and the squelching sound of mouth meeting flesh reverberates through the corners of his office.

His cock twitches in your mouth, your eyes have only partially widened when he is shooting thick ropes of cum down your throat. He holds you his place, tip of nose, pressing against his pubes till you swallow each and every seed he has to offer; something you find yourself doing alike second nature.

His grip loosens and you retract your mouth from his cock with a pop sound. A string of saliva connects your glistening lips with his cock. Trails of ecstasy running down your lips—Sukuna, extends his hands, gently wiping it away with his thumb. An act proving to be a stark contrast to the names he called you while he was bullying your throat.

With name calling, something flickers in your mind...

"Who was that?"

"Don't you wanna know?" He snickers, grabbing you by the bicep as he pulls you up on his lap so you're left to straddle him. "Just my dumb wife filling me on what she did today."

[18250mm]

She Kicks Ass | N. Romanoff

Gif not mine, credit to creator

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x GN!Super-Soldier!Reader

Word Count: 1,122

Warnings: None

Summary: You save Clint’s ass when Natasha gets angry at him, but not before reminding everyone just how good she is at kicking ass.

---

“Who the hell ate my sandwich?!” Natasha’s voice echoed through the Avengers Compound. She’d just come back from a tough morning at the gym and she was, without a doubt, ready for lunch.

When the redhead opened the refrigerator to grab the food you had so graciously prepared for her before heading off to fulfil your own duties at S.H.I.E.L.D., it was gone.

Pissed wasn’t even enough to describe how she felt right now.

“What are you yelling about, baby?” you asked, walking into the kitchen since you were on your lunch break too. “How was your training this morning?”

You and Natasha had been together for about two years now, having started dating a few months after you joined S.H.I.E.L.D. as an agent. You had defected from HYDRA — although… to be fair, you never really agreed with their ideologies in the first place — after being born to parents in the organisation. With your expertise and skill sets matching that of a high-ranking agent, you worked closely with Maria and Natasha as the second Deputy Director.

You weren’t small either, making you useful for certain field missions. Since HYDRA loved to experiment on their troops, it came as no surprise when you were eventually chosen to test their latest version of the super-soldier serum. It wasn’t an exact replica of the one Steve Rogers had coursing through his veins, but hey — at least it didn’t kill you.

“It was good up till the point I found out that someone ate the sandwich you made for me,” Natasha replied with a pout before resuming her stoic expression. “And when I find out who it is–”

She didn’t even finish her sentence before storming off (not without giving you a quick peck on the lips, of course) — but you knew exactly what she was going to say. You weren’t the most religious, yet you found yourself saying a silent prayer for the culprit.

You chuckled, turning around to grab the same ingredients you had used to make the first sandwich. Whatever happened to the last one, you didn’t know; but you weren’t going to let that spoil your girlfriend’s mood for the rest of the day.

…

A good 10 minutes had passed since you last saw Natasha. You’d finished preparing and bagging the second sandwich, and was awaiting the redhead’s return before lunch was over.

You had also brewed a fresh pot of coffee, mostly for the two of you to enjoy, but in good nature, the rest of the team too.

“Y/N! Y/N, help me!” came an exasperated whisper from across the room.

Turning around in confusion, your furrowed brows quickly softened when you saw Clint running into the kitchen with… a sandwich in his mouth.

Natasha’s sandwich.

He had taken it. And your girlfriend was hot on his tail.

“You really should know better than to take Nat’s food, Hawkeye,” you told him, but stepped aside anyway for him to climb into the vent above you. “She isn’t the kind of target you’d wanna mess with. You know that.”

The blond rolled his eyes and nodded, mumbling quick apologies you couldn’t even make out. “Mmank hyou!” he said — and that was the last you saw of him as he disappeared somewhere into the inner spaces of the Avengers Compound.

“I don’t care if you’re my best friend, I wouldn’t even let my sister eat that sandwich! Y/N made it for me!” you heard your lover’s voice as she made her way towards you — she had definitely seen Clint turn the corner here — with Wanda, Yelena and Kate behind her.

By now, a small crowd had formed — with all the shouting and vent-climbing, how could it not? — around you two.

Natasha came to a halt and looked around. “Detka, where’s Clint?”

You shrugged, feigning innocence. “I haven’t seen him, I thought he was with Kate,” you met the tall brunette’s eyes, subtly motioning for her to go along with it.

At first, Kate didn’t catch on, shaking her head before glancing up and spotting her mentor directly above her as he watched the scene unfold while chewing on the sandwich. Her eyes widened and she went into a coughing fit — causing all eyes to turn to her for a brief moment.

“I’m fine, thank you,” the young archer assured everyone. “Uh, yeah. Clint was just with me, ‘Tasha. I think he went to the armoury to grab more trick arrows…”

“I could’ve sworn I saw him come in here with my food,” Natasha mumbled, sighing. You immediately wrapped your arms around her comfortingly. “I really wanted that sandwich.”

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” you cooed, stepping aside to reveal her newly-replaced lunch and a cup of coffee. “I made you another one. Now, how ‘bout you eat before our break’s over?”

The way Natasha’s eyes lit up was the reason you wanted to do everything in life that would make her smile like that.

“Thank you,” she whispered, kissing you on the cheek as you tightened your grip on her.

“I’m just glad she won’t kick Barton’s ass today,” Tony laughed. “Though I’m sure with Rogers and Barnes around, that won’t be too easy for her.”

You merely scoffed at the billionaire’s statement. “My girlfriend can totally kick their asses! She can kick anyone’s ass. Hell, she can even kick my ass. And she has, many times. It was hot.”

Natasha watched you lovingly and casually sipped on her coffee as you rambled on. The other Avengers laughed, some shaking their heads while others looked away nervously because they saw no lie in what you said.

“Thank you for coming to my sister’s rescue,” said Yelena. “But I feel the need to clarify that I am still better than her.”

“Yeah, okay. We’ll see about that,” your beloved redhead replied sarcastically, finishing the rest of her food and putting the dishes in the sink. “Come, sestra. Let’s put that to the test.”

As the two made their way to the gym — with Wanda shaking her head and mumbling something along the lines of ‘here we go again’ — and the rest dispersed to either have their lunch or resume whatever task they had been doing, you sat alone by the island and took a bite of your own sandwich.

You smiled to yourself, thinking about how good you had it despite having to risk your life every day. You were absolutely in love with Natasha Romanoff, not to mention the amazing family you’d made with the Avengers.

Your thoughts were briefly interrupted when a blur of purple darted past you, but not before giving you a kiss on the head.

“Thanks for saving me back there, Y/N/N!” Clint waved, making his way to the armoury to actually get some of those trick arrows so Natasha wouldn’t be suspicious.