#I can't figure out how to put a read more on here

[joontroverted]

kiss it better (nsfw)

husband! ran haitani x wife reader

fandom : tokyo revengers

word count : 2.9k

cw : anal beads, anal fingering, vaginal fingering, penetrative sex, daddy kink, reader is a brat, impregnantion talk, fluff! this is a sweet fic, i'll have you know 😤

twitter porn that inspired me!

video

picture

happy reading!

ran comes home late often enough that it's not an issue.

his schedule is erratic. he doesn't work every single night, but when he's called to work he's gone, and almost unreachable too. and he's definitely coming home late on those days.

between the two of you (two sleepy people) he knows it's no hard feelings to come home to you fast asleep. he just strips off, does a quick shower, speedruns through his unskippable skin care routine and settles into bed with you. one arm snaked around your waist and into your panties, two fingers in your warm pussy, and he's out like a light.

it's a fun routine.

but you miss him.

sure, you have the sleepy mornings and the evenings filled with wine and whichever new little snack ran had flown in from God knows where, but you missed the nights.

the nights of opening your arms and legs for your man, undressing him, tumbling around in bed till you're both sore and filthy and then hopping in the tub for another round- ahem, a bath.

so tonight's the night!

you're adorned in a light blue lingerie set, the type that highlights your titties and has a crotchless panties. your usual home clothes are thrown on on top of this sexy get up because of the chill from the ac, and even though you've fought back many a yawn, the moment you hear scuffling and the beep of the lock, you throw off your loose clothes and position yourself spread across the sofa.

you watch as ran staggers into the foyer, stumbling, stifling a yawn. he makes a beeline past the hall and straight to the master bedroom without paying you even the slightest glance.

you sit there dumbfounded.

you can hear him tossing off his clothes, washing his face and finally turning the lamp by the nightstand on to do his skin care before he realises you're not in bed.

"sweetheart?"

you hear him jog out of the room, turn the corner and seeing you sitting on the sofa, all (sex) dolled up, and glaring holes into him.

"what are you- oh," he stops, eyes taking you in. "oh honey, come here," he calls you, spreading his arms.

you stare at him and get up, and walk past him to your bedroom.

"honey? honey! baby, i'm so sorry, it's so late and it's been such a long day, this has nothing to do with- "

"literally die," you mutter, clambering onto the bed.

"are you wearing those crotchless panties?"

"die! go hang out with your precious besties! die!" you hiss, wrapping the blankets around yourself and settling in.

"baby- "

"i don't want to hear one fucking word ran haitani."

you shut your eyes, turning your face into the pillow, tears of anger stinging behind your shut eyelids. god, this was so humiliating more than anything. you were so excited, and the worst part is you can't even blame him, you know how tiring his days can get.

you hear him slowly sit down on the bed and turn the lamp off. no skincare, nothing, and he settles into bed next to you, almost spooning you, but giving you some space.

you feel his hand come up to stroke your hair.

"good night angel."

something's keeping you up.

you can't put a finger on what it is exactly.

you twist around and see ran fast asleep next to you, no doubt too exhausted to even pleade his case with you. his hand is on your pillow, having fallen asleep while stroking your hair. you had fallen asleep too, but something woke up you up around twenty minutes ago, and you can't seem to figure out what.

the temperature of the room is perfect. chill, but not cold. the blankets aren't too heavy to make you hot. you aren't hungry and you just took a few sips of water some time back when you had woken up.

so what is it?

do you miss ran? do you miss the contact of him spooning you?

no... not that you wouldn't miss it, but more like you and ran moved around in bed a lot while you sleep so you aren't always touching each other.

no, this is something more related to your body.

for a second you wonder if you're secretly pregnant.

no.

you press a hand on your stomach. you feel like you're close to the problem, because now you can zero in on something inside you being wrong, but pregnant? no. not even food poisoning, you didn't eat anything disagreeable.

something inside you...

"ran. ran!"

you shake him, and if you weren't so taken aback, you would've stopped to admire how gorgeous he is. his purple and black hair fans out on his forehead, and his chest gently rises and falls. he really could be a model, his strong angular jaw and his angelic features uniting masculinity and femininity to create such beauty.

"ran!" you smack him across his face with your pillow.

"what, what, fuck!" he shouts, rising up to his elbows, his eyes flitting over you. his hands immediately roam over you before his eyes adjust to the dark to make sure that you're in one piece and not hurt in any way.

"wha' happened," he says gruffly, sitting up this time, his hands still on your waist protectively.

you falter, seeing how protective he is of you, and how much sexier he sounds with his voice deeper from sleep.

you bite your lip. "hi."

"what the fuck happened," he blinks at you slowly, like he can't believe this situation. he's just been forced awake by his panicked little wife who had just been screaming and now you're sitting pretty, hair mussed, bra strap sliding off your shoulder, eyes wide, looking ditzy.

"um, nothing much. what's up with you?" you shrug, looking down.

"i'm going to count to three- "

he doesn't even have to finish his sentence for you to start talking. you know all too well what happens when he counts to three.

"so you know how i dressed up for you and then you so very rudely ignored me?"

"i apologized for that, and you told me to die."

"yeah, that."

he stares at you. "and?" he prompts.

"i didn't actually want you to die."

that makes him crack a little smile. "why thank you. that's one less person now. unfortunately the list's a bit too long for me to be in the clear, honey."

you scrunch up your face at that. ran's a terrible person. you forget that sometimes. his worst crime is probably torture and homicide, not kicking your plushie off the bed.

"was that all?" he asks, thumb stroking your waist. "can we sleep now?"

"no," you say firmly. and then you mumble something.

"what?"

"there's something inside me."

"what did all those creampies pay off," he laughs. "wait a minute, did they?" his face morphs into horror.

"no, jesus. this is less scary."

"just spit it out already!"

"fine! when i was waiting for you, i..." you shift. "um i stuffed myself with some... beads," you trail off, nodding, glad that the lights are off, so he can't see you clearly.

ran leans to the nightstand and flicks the lamp on, making eye contact with you. well there goes decency. he looks at you, his face a mix of disbelief and criticism. "you stuffed yourself with some beads."

you nod again, unable to look at him.

he grabs your face and forced you closer. "you stuffed yourself with the anal beads i bought you and told you that i would help you with."

"i wanted to surprise you okay?"

"and then you fell asleep with them inside you. who was that for? the icu when they surgically remove them from you? what if i couldn't come home tonight?"

"fine!" you pull yourself away from him. he had spent his entire life being both a brother and a father to rindou that when he brought up his stern voice he could be so goddamn condescending. "i'll do it myself then! i don't need your help anyways!"

you most definitely did need his help.

and that's why you find yourself laid on your tummy between ran's spread legs, him having pulled your hips towards him, ass facing him, legs locked around his back. your bra was tossed to the side, and your crotchless panties dangle from your ankle in sad defeat.

ran had sat back quietly, arms folded as he watched you try to pull the beads out. he didn't say a word, but watched you seriously, as though he were a teacher watching his student helplessly mess up an equation even further. the scrutiny sure didn't help, and only made you more tense.

you sniffle.

"and whose fault is it that you're in this position, huh?"

"yours."

you get a sharp slap on your left asscheek.

"it's my fault! i'm sorry!"

you can't see him, but you're sure he's enjoying this. ran's rather laidback and chill, but all of that is made up for with how much of a stern disciplinarian he is in situations like this.

he pulls your ass closer and your pussy settles on his crotch, feeling his thick and hard cock beneath his boxers. you snicker.

"what was that for, slut?" he asks, giving you a harsh pinch on your other cheek.

you squeal and kick your feet. "nothing. just nice to know you missed me too."

"hmm," he hums, taking you in.

you really are the stupidest little girl in the world. of course he misses you. he'd be mad not to. the light of his life. he loves his job, but he's been liking it less and less as it eats up all the time he keeps especialy for you. he's missed too many meetings and too many trips just to spend an evening watching a movie with you or a weekend away with you. and here you are, pitching a fit because apparently he doesn't miss you anymore.

as much as he chides you for your carelessness, it's landed his beautiful wife face down ass up, stuffed full in her ass with purple anal beads. all that could be seen of it was the glinting sea pearl that hung out like a charm from the base, with the backdrop of your pretty little pucker behind it.

he grabs the base and gives a little tug, causing you to yelp.

"you need to relax honey," he mutters, rubbing your back.

"well you're not helping with that," you grumble.

he rolls his eyes. he reaches for the lube and sees the half empty bottle and can't help but think about how much lube you had emptied within yourself trying to get it in in the first place, a finger pushing each bead in while the other hand poured lube on your gaping hole. his cock jumps at the image of that.

"hmm, what how can we get you to relax, huh? would a spanking work? you get pretty brainless from a good spanking, don't you honey? i was meaning to give you one in the morning just because of how you behaved with me."

you kick at the thought of that, heat filling your face, pussy pulsing at the thought. yes, unfortunately ran had trained you into taking his spankings well, but that would tense you up too much, and he knew that. he's just doing this to rile you up.

ran smirks as he watches your pussy squeeze around nothing, dampening. he's trained you well.

"but on second thought, maybe you need something more humiliating. you think i'm just wasting time hanging out with my guys at work, huh? how 'bout i handcuff you over the table with your panties pullled down, huh? so all the bad, bad men i work with can remind you of how tough this job is, huh?"

"no!" you whine, pushing your ass out. "no!"

he watches your pussy get wetter and wetter. he massages your lubed up hole with two fingers and slips two fingers inside you. you really were a sick girl. his sick girl.

"o- ohhh," you moan, as his thick, long fingers sink deeper inside you.

in and out, up and down. all while teases your asshole into opening. his finger swipe further and hurther in, scissoring before they finally curl down and hit your g spot.

"ran! ran! please, please, more!"

and that's when he slows down.

the rhythm he had built up slows down into a gentle massaging on your g spot.

"ran, what the hell? you're so- "

you falter as a another feeling takes over. an insistent pushing from in the inside of your hole.

plop!

"there we go," says ran, and you can hear the smile in his voice. " there's my big girl."

the first bead popped out, shiny and glossy, warm from your insides, lube dripping down it. your hole closes up again, and he presses down on your g spot again, causing you to let out a strangled cry.

"another one sweetheart," he coos, "relax for me?"

plop!

the second one pops out as your mind is lost from both the sensations. the bliss from having your g spot massaged combined with the odd pleasure that's coming from him playing with your hole.

plop!

"oh, there's another one," you murmur, dazed.

"my big girl can count can't she," he laughs. he sure has the fucking audacity. "last two honey."

you push your ass out and get onto your knees, chest pressed on the bed. he snickers at your eagerness and drives his fingers deeper in you, stroking away.

plop!

you feel lighter, both inside and in your head. you can't believe that for all your complaining, you're spending the night with your husband yanking anal beads out of your asshole. not even in a sexy way particularly. for the sake of not having a medical emergency.

"last one angel," he kisses you ass cheek. "can you do that for me?"

"uh huh."

"what do you say?"

"yes daddy," you keen as his fingers push deeper in you again. you feel his lips a feather light kiss on your perineum, and you can blush from how soft it feels.

he watches as the last bead slowly pushes it's way out of your hole with a final little plop!

watching your pretty hole gao almost sets something primal off in ran, and with a low growl he gets on his knee, one leg braced against the bed. he lowers his boxers and brings his heavy cock out that he had neglected for a little too long. the grinding of your pussy on his crotch wasn't nearly enough for what his eyes were feasting on.

the thick head of his tip slaps against your sloppy pussy and you whine, finally getting a taste of what you've been missing.

"give it to me ran, i've been waiting for too long."

"i know pretty, i've been gone for too long these days, haven't i?"

he pushes in, and that familiar feeling of being filled is back. you husband is back.

"daddy," you cry in ecstacy as his tip finally reaches the deepest it can go. "i love you."

"daddy's home honey," he pants, having mounted you finally, and now driving into to you. "i love you."

the pace picks up and you're boneless as ran's firm grip on your waist is all that's holding you up. he slams into you, his cock hitting all the right places as he leans down and covers all of you, holding you tight.

"i'm sorry angel, i'm sorry i haven't been home lately. but it's all for you, yeah. it's all so i can give you a beautiful life and make you a mama one day, nice and plump and spoiled."

"ohhh!" that sends a wave through you. "you wanna make me a mama?"

"yeah honey, you'll be a good mama, won't you? perfect girl?"

"yes, yes daddy," you cry, "i'm cumming, gonna come!"

"come for me angel," he pushes into you one final time, and you come together. the orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, causing you to sink under bliss as you feel him filling you up to the brim with his thick, warm cum.

he bites the crook of your neck and coos as he watches you shake underneath him.

"my wife," he whispers, pressing kisses down your neck. "my beautiful silly wife. i always miss you. i love you."

he turns you over, and you immediately twist your limbs into each others'. you smile as you look into his eyes, his hair still untouched despite it all. you reach out and mess it up, causing him to laugh and kiss your wrist.

"i love you," you mutter. "and i know you love spending time with me. i was just frustrated... and in need of a rough night with you. i don't actually want you to die."

"i know." he nods, giving you little kisses. "i'm the luckiest man alive to have a wife who loves me so much she stuffed herself full of the anal beads i told her not to use without me."

"my hole is sore," you groan as he nuzzles against your chest.

"bend over, i'll kiss it better."

reblogs, tagging, comments, likes and asks are HIGHLY APPRECIATED!!!

read my other tokyo revengers fic -

bully baji x popular reader fic

all right heathens. this one's done. pls hop on anon/asks and tell me i'm not alone in my insanity and you're this horny for this man too ❤️

#tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tr smut #tokyorev smut #ran smut #ran x reader #ran x reader smut #ran haitani smut #ran haitani x reader #ran x you #ran x y/n #haitani ran smut #haitani ran x reader #ran haitani x reader smut #ran haitani x you #haitani ran x you #ran haitani x y/n #haitani ran x y/n #tokyo revengers x reader smut #tokyo revengers ran #tr x reader #tr x reader smut #tr ran #tokyo rev smut #tokyo rev x reader #bonten x reader #bonten ran #yves tells you a story ✩🕯₊˚.📖⋆🌙⋆⁺₊✧

[melanieph321]

SEVEN DAYS OF REQUESTS 2.0

(DAY 6)

Dusan Vlahovic x Reader - Memories For Life

This was not requested, but I wrote it anyway. 😁

+18

Where Dusan is obsessed with taking pictures of Reader.

Enjoy!

"What's this?"

You were sitting by the kitchen table, typing away on your computer when your boyfriend Dusan entered.

"It's an old Polaroid I think."

You watch him pick up and inspect the item. "Like a camera?" He said, fascinated by it.

"You shrugged. "I just found it in one of the moving boxes. I don't remember ever buying one. I'm putting it up for sale though, with the other things. "

"Sale?" He frowned.

"Yeah."

"Nah, let's create memories with it."

It was sweet of him, wanting to capture the two of you moving in together as a future memory. However, once Dusan figured out how to use the camera there was no stopping him.

"Y/N, look here."

He started carrying around the camera everywhere he went, insisting on taking pictures of everything and everyone.

"Not there, over here, look into the camera."

At first, it was cute. Dusan would take pictures of you cooking dinner, of your cat lounging in the sunbeams, of the flowers blooming in the garden. But soon, the old camera became a constant presence in your lives. Dusan would pull it out at the most inopportune moments, capturing you mid-sentence, mid-yawn, mid-sneeze.

"Dusan please." You sighed. "I'm sure you've captured enough of me."

You tried to be patient, but it was starting to wear on you. You felt like you couldn't even go to the bathroom without Dusan snapping a photo of you. You started to feel like you were living in a perpetual photo shoot, with Dusan as the director and you as the unwilling model.

You had had enough one day. You were in the middle of getting ready for a night out with friends when Dusan pulled out the camera and started snapping pictures of you applying your makeup.

"Babe," He said, trying to gain your attention.

"What?" 

"Pose for me real quick."

"Huh?"

"I said pose for the camera real quick." He raised it before his eyes, ready to snap the shot. But that's when you couldn't take it anymore....

"Dusan, stop!" You exclaimed, holding up your hand to hide your face. "I can't take this anymore. It's like you're trying to capture every moment of my life."

Dusan looked taken aback, but he quickly recovered. "But I just want to remember everything," he said, his voice filled with longing. "I want to have these memories forever."

You're hand faltered. He was coming from a good place, but you just couldn't handle the constant invasion of privacy. "I understand that, but maybe we can find a balance," you said, trying to find a compromise. "Maybe you can take pictures of me when I'm ready for them, and not when I'm just going about my day."

Dusan thought for a moment, then nodded. "Okay, I can do that," he said, putting away the camera.

You breathed a sigh of relief as Dusan left the room. You knew that it was a small victory, but it was a start. You were able to enjoy a night out with your friends, returning home to the sweetest sight of Dusan, in bed with your cat, reading him a story.

Snap

He lowered the book with the snap of the camera. "You're home?"

You stood in the door frame, camera in one hand whilst fanning the image you just took in the other.

"I thought you said no more pictures?"

"No." You wagged your finger stepping into the room. "I said no more pictures for you. I on the other hand...."

Dusan sat up in bed, letting your cat jump out of his lap as he welcomed you to sit with him. You showed him the Polaroid.

"Cute, right?"

"Right." He chuckled.

"But you'd look better without a shirt on."

Snap

Dusan's eyes met yours. He saw the devious and did not hesitate to reach for the hemn of his t-shirt. "Snap away." He said and leaned back in bed. Your eyes wandered seamlessly to his outlined abs. As a professinal footballer, he was as fit as they come and not shy to pose in front of a camera.

You backed off from the bed and snapped away a few shots. It was playful at first, with Dusan puckering his lips and making kissy faces at you. But eventually, he stripped himself of his boxers and made you do the same thing with your dress.

"Here, give it to me." He said, asking you to hand him back the camera. However you were not as comfortable behind the lens as he was, posing akwardly where you stood. Mind you only in your lingerie.

"Relax baby, don't be shy for me."

Snap

He snapped a few shots with the camera but did not look pleased with the images.

"What?" You asked.

He shook his head. "You'd look better off without."

"Without what?"

Dusan looked up, eyeing your body with admiration. "Without anything."

"You mean, like this...?"

His brows lifted with curiosity as your hand went to peal off the laces to your bra, letting it drop to the floor as you unhooked it.

Snap

Dusan raised the camera to his face, grinning behind the lens.

Snap

Snap

He captured a series of images as you moved on to tugg your panties down your legs, leaving you to stand before him completely exposed.

"Fuck." He sighed.

Snap

Snap

"You're so fucking beautiful baby."

You giggled. "Thank you."

Snap

Snap

Clap....

"Oh"

"What?"

"I think we're out." Dusan turned the camera, inspecting the filter. Indeed, you were out of images.

"Whatta shame." You shrugged.

He looked to you, smiling from ear to ear. "Come here."

You did as you were told, stepping over to the bed, letting Dusan rail you in to stand before him. His hands hands went to rest on each side of your hips while his face closed in on your belly, his lips gracing your skin.

You hymned in response and let his hands trace the shape of you until they were cupping your ass.

His lips nipped at your pubic hairs, not minding the way they tickled his face.

He licked his lips moving downwards, but before extending his tongue to taste you, he lifted his head, eyes meeting yours. "I love you."

Your hand ran through his hair. "Love you too. Now let's make some real memories...."

#fanfiction #football imagine #seven days of requests #footballer x reader #footballer imagine #football angst #dusan vlahovic imagine #dusan vlahovic x reader #dusan vlahovic #juventus fc

[podcastkevin]

Brought to you by my sister is a Steve x Wanda x Peter x Male reader fic...

My sister is confident but I hope it's okay....She literally went all out and may have included how reader caught Steve and Wanda and more so I hope it's long enough. We did have a little difficulty reading the request cause the way everything was phrased was a bit confusing but I think we figured it out to fulfill everything. Hopefully. 🤞🏽 🤞🏽 🤞🏽

Years ago....

When you first brought Steve home, you were a bit nervous. Your mom hasn't approved of your dates the past few times and every time she's made you out to be a cheater so they break up with you.

It's completely unfair what she's doing to you. You love these boys and she's sending them off every time. Your heart breaks every time you try to get them back and all they do is yell at you, blame you, and ask you how could you. All you wish you could do is explain the fact that you are loyal and it's your mother who ruining the relationship.

You step up to the front door of your mother's house and knock three times, your palms feel sweaty, and your heart is beating out of your chest. When the door opens, she's wearing tight blue jeans, and a red blouse that she solely wore whenever you told her you were bringing your dates over. There was a ruffle along the sweetheart neckline and the sleeves connected to the outer edge of the cups, basically showing off her cleavage and collar. The sleeves also had loose cuffs that hung over her hands.

She was wearing over-the-top makeup with a bright red lip, and her shoes were red three-inch heels with a thin band around her ankle and a wide band over her foot.

You grit your teeth, putting on a fake smile and introducing Steve to her. She shamelessly looks him up and down and for the first time in all the dates you've had...she smiled. She fucking smiled. You had to question her mentally, no scowl? No forced greeting? Nothing? Maybe she can see how good this one is for you.

Yeah.....no.

Sometimes you wished you were oblivious, wished you hadn't started to notice that she wanted you to invite Steve over more often, wished you didn't notice she started to wear her more scandalous outfits that have been collecting dust in her closet.

Honestly, sometimes you wished you lived with your dad.

You really started to get annoyed when she'd call you from your room to do some stupid chore in the middle of foreplay with Steve. Every time you did, you'd glare at your mom before she walks off and unbeknownst to you, going to your room to chat with Steve....and by chat, I mean turning him on even more and telling him things that a mother usually would tell and describe to their son's boyfriend.

It was a Saturday when it happened. You were making out in Steve's lap when your mother called you. "Mn! Get down here now!" You groan, rolling off your bed and yanking the door open before stomping downstairs. "Hey! No stomping around in my house!" She snapped before waving a hand at you. "Now, I need you to go to the bank and get money for your dad, fill the car with gas and then get groceries." "No, mom, I'm not doing that." "Excuse me?"

"I just want some time with Steve. There's that, too, I can't just leave Steve." "He'll be fine, darling, just go. Your dad won't stop calling me." She threw her keys at you and you raise you hand and catch them. You really don't like the tone in her voice or the way she's trying to rush you out of the house.

Glaring at her suspicious behavior, you drop your fist, pushing off the kitchen island before turning and walking to the front door.

You're a bit aggravated the whole time, not even answering your dad when you drop off the money then speed off and you kinda regret snapping at the cashier when getting groceries but your mom just ruins everything.

Her car was actually already filled so that was already done for you so you go home. Walking in, you leave the groceries in the kitchen then go to your room but the moment you hear moaning...

You.

Are.

Livid.

Throwing open the door, it hits the wall behind it but neither stop. "You fucking jackasses." "Oh, hi Mn." Steve says as if it's the most casual thing to just be fucking your mom. "Shut the fuck up, you know what, I knew this was why you kept sending my boyfriends away. You just wanted the right fuck toy. No wonder you took a liking to Steve quicker than the others."

You happened to be suspicious of your mother for a while so you pull the black backpack out from under your desk and walk out. "I'm living with dad." "Mn, get back here!" Wanda called out but you left the house without a single word in return.

Now....

After residing with your father for approximately a year, you decided to move out upon discovering an individual in search of a roommate. This person was Peter, an equally attractive individual of the same age as you.

When you arrived at the apartment with only a backpack, Peter was genuinely surprised by how little you had brought with you. He kindly offered to buy you new bedding and pillows. You didn't have a strong interest in decorating, but Peter had already put up some of his posters in the second bedroom.

Peter and you, after getting to know each other, fell into a rhythm pretty easily. Friday's were somehow made into movie and take out nights.

Movie and take out turned into homemade meals.

Home made meals turned into restaurants.

and eventually, five month later, restaurants resulted in the both of you in one of the bedrooms. Lips locked and bodies tangled together.

You introduced him to your dad but whenever Peter tried to bring up your mom, you avoided the question. You'd find away to steer the conversation and although Peter was confused, he respected you and didn't bring it up anymore.

A few more years and shared expressions of love, the both of you ended up proposing to each other. Peter kneeling in a secluded part of a park where you two had your first date as an actual couple and you couldn't help but laugh with tears building in your eyes. It scared Peter for a moment before you're kneeling as well with a ring in your hand and it was Peter's turn to laugh.

The both of you say yes and kiss each other after exchanging rings and you couldn't be happier.

You waited for a couple months to start planning and when the weather was warmer. You talked about the guest list and all the details and when Peter gave you the list, you crossed out where he put 'Ms. Maximoff'

"Babe. Why won't you tell me more about your mom?" "She's a bitch, Pete. What she did to me was extremely hurtful and she should never be spoken of."

That got him even more curious and it started to kill him. His mother would've wanted to be at his wedding so why shouldn't Mn's be there?

You were out looking for a suit so Peter took that time to call your dad for your mom's information then he called your mom.

When she picks up, she sighs. "Wanda Maximoff, who is this?" Peters voice is awkward and shy but as strong as he could make it. "Um, yes, hi. This is Peter Parker, I'm Mn Maximoff's fiancé." "Fiancé, huh?" "Um, yeah. I'm calling to invite you to our wedding tomorrow? I-I mean my mom would've wanted to be at my wedding and I thought maybe you could be a surprise?"

Wanda hums and Peter could hear rustling in the background. "Can I bring a plus one?" If you were Peter, you could hear her smirk. "Yes Ma'am." She hums again and answers. "We'll be there." and she hangs up. "Oh, okay, cool." Peter said after pulling the phone away.

He didn't tell you until that following. "Hey, Nn?" He gently called your nickname and you turned to him after rolling over to face him.

"Yeah Pete?" You smile, pulling him closer. "I invited someone else...they aren't on the list but I just really wanted to meet them." "Who?"

A knock on your front door interrupts Peter. "I'll get it, one sec." You drag yourself out of bed and shuffle to the front door. Your peephole was covered so you couldn't see who was, opening the door you immediately slam it closed. "Peter Parker!!"

"I can explain!" "Better make it quick." "I just wanted to meet her, Mn." "You could asked me before contacting her!! I didn't want her to ruin the wonderful life I've built after she ruined it before." "Please? My mom would've wanted to me you." "Well my mom is a slutty lying bitch who kept telling my boyfriends I was a cheater until she found the right one who, oh, JUST SO HAPPENS TO BE WITH HER!!" "Mn, please..."

You were fuming, you didn't want her there for a reason but you guess Peter had a right to meet her. "I'm warning you now....that I told you so and she's a bitch."

With that, you yank the door back open and stare at Wanda. "Wanda, Steve, how terrible it is to see you." "Mn!" Peter scolds and you roll your eyes. "I'm sorry about him. I'm Peter." "Hm, Peter. Nice to meet you." You know the glint in her eye and you can't stop yourself from stoping her.

"Wanda, No." "What? I think he's cute. Chill, I won't take him." You glare at her and her tone before she lets herself in. "Come in, why don't you..." You mutter to yourself and close your door while glaring at Steve. "Mn, please behave. At least for me?" You grit your teeth and huff out a breath. "Fine."

Peter sat with your mom and you sat at the counter that faces the living room. An hour later, you sigh audibly. "Okay! How about we go to bed, yeah? Bitch, guest room. Jackass, Couch." Peter slaps your arm when you walked over and he stood up to join you. "Um, you guys can choose either the couch or Mn's old room which is now the guest room." Peter says and you go to interject and repeat that Wanda is a slut but one look and you huff, turning and walking off.

When both of your are in bed, your still scowling. "Mn, stop scowling." "I'm telling you now that they should be separated. They are going to fuck and won't care that we're-" You instantly hear a moan and possibly the sound of your flower vase falling off the coffee table.

"Fucking damn it, Peter." "I didn't do anything!" "But I told you so!!" You throw open the door and storm into the living room. "You fucking asshats, are you serious?!" Wanda was on her hands and knees the length of the table, Steve's bruising grip on her hips as he thrusts quickly into her. "You both are fucking sick you know that? Like, I am being so fucking generous and I'm doing this for Peter's sake but are you actually shitting me?" You're not surprised that Steve doesn't stop, the squelching made you want to throw up but you roll your eyes and groan.

"Fuck it, whatever." You turn around to a wide eyed and shocked Peter, grab his hand and walk back to the bedroom, missing Wanda's wink and Steve's smirk

You went to bed pissed, head buried under your pillow and facing away from Peter who laid extremely hard and he couldn't stop himself from listening to your mom and Steve.

He barely got any sleep but woke up to you placing a kiss on his temple. "Sorry, baby, didn't mean to wake you. Still pissed from last night so I'm going in a run. I'll see you later, okay?" His eyes give off a sad look but it was really desperation. "I'm not mad at you, m'kay?" "I know." You smile gently and kiss him properly. "I'll be back, won't leave you at the alter."

He waits in the covers, listening to you slam the front door shut and he exhales slowly before getting out of bed and making his way to the bathroom to shower.

The shower is long and it steams up the bathroom. When he finishes, he throws the clothes into the hamper after wrapping a towel around his waist and exiting the bathroom. On his way to the bedroom, he can hear moans and pushing open his door, he's sees Wanda and Steve. "What the...Why are you in here?" He looks to the floor.

"Come on, cutie, why don't you join us?" "No, I-I can't do that to Mn..." "Oh come on, Pete. Mn isn't loyal like he says he is." Wanda starts off the lie. "He cheated on Steve with three other people." She squeals when Steve thrusts deeper.

"W-We're supposed to get married today...H-He proposed to me at the same time I was proposing to him." "Oh, so he dumped Sam?" "S-Sam?" "Yeah...his dad's lawn care boy." Peter's subconscious was yelling at him that he knew Mn's mom hasn't been in the picture for years and couldn't have known about Mn's life.

"Come on, Mn's unfaithful. I see it's only fair to get back at him." Wanda says through small gasps and Peter walks over to her but stops. "W-Wait, No, I-I love Mn a-and he loves me." "Really? Where's he now?" "On a morning run." "That's what he told me once but he was actually seeing another guy." Steve played along and smirked. "What makes you think he's not off with Sam now?"

Wanda knew they got him when he stepped forward again, hand on his towel. "It's only fair...right?" "Of course." With that, he dropped his towel and Wanda laughs lightly, sitting up the best she could to lean onto one hand and use the other to wrap around Peter's length.

"Fuck, that feels so good." Wanda had a slightly tight grip as she jerks Peter off before wrapping her lips around his tip. "Shit~" Peter moans and Steve's thrusts make Wanda lurch forward, the woman taking more of Peter into her mouth until his tip hit the back of her throat.

"Sh-Shit." "Feels good, huh?" Steve asks, pulling her hips closer to his, the squelching noises going straight to Peter's cock. "C-Can I t-try?" Peter's eyes flickered down to where Steve and Wanda were connected and the other male grins. "Yeah."

The switch spots, Steve shoving all of his length down her throat and Peter slowly enters Wanda's wet entrance.

He doesn't stretch and fill as much as Steve but what he doesn't achieve in girth he achieves in length, hitting her g-spot dead on. Peter reaches around to Wanda's front and finds her clit, making rough shapes and Wanda cums instantly, moaning around Steve's cock and squeezing Peter.

"Shit, you really know what you're doing." "Um...porn..." "Aw, cute." Steve murmurs, thrusting faster, face fucking Wanda and Peter's pace picks up as well before they cum together, in Wanda's Pussy and down her throat.

They were finishing up their second round, double penetrating Wanda's swollen snatch, when you came home out of breath. You got in your head and ran from your apartment complex to the park five blocks away. At least you were calmed down....

but it didn't last long.

Walking in, you don't see Wanda and Steve and your settled anger boiled again when you walk down the hall after hearing a moan and your heart broke after kicking the door down and seeing your fiancé face fucking Wanda with Steve jerking off next to her face.

"You fucking jackass." You say towards Peter. "Are. You. Fucking. Serious!?!?" "W-Well, i-it's only fair." "What the fuck do you mean it's only fair, I've been loyal to you and only you for years now, for fuck sake I proposed to you as well!!" "W-What about Sam?" "Sam? My dad's fucking lawn care guy?! HE'S FUCKING THIRTY-TWO!!" "So?" "All of you are fucking sick."

"Shit." Peter turns back to Wanda, his hips picking up speed before he pulls out, stroking the same speed as Steve before both of them are cumming on Wanda's face. "All of you a pieces of shit. Don't be surprised if I fucking disappear from here because of all of you." You say.

You've officially given up. First your mom lying that you're a cheater to send the ones you've loved away, then Steve cheating on you with your bitch of a mother and then both of them lying to Peter to get him in on their bullshit. Might as well just live with your dad for the rest of your life since he's the only one your trust.

You were stuck in your head that you didn't realize Peter had walked over to you and started to drag you out. He opens the door and shoves you out. "What the fuck?" "Kicking you out." Then he reaches down and takes his ring off of you and throws yours next to you.

"The fuck, you actually believe them?! I've been living here for years, I haven't been anywhere but here and with you and you know that!! I work from home for fuck sake." You had a valid point, you know you did, but he shook his head. "Don't know what you did before working from home." He really believed those jackasses that you could see smirking behind you.

"Fuck all of you." Peter shuts the door. "I'm on the fucking lease, fucker!" "I'll figure it out."

You huff, you don't care about your shit, you're lucky you kept stuff at your dad's place but before running to him you stop by the front office.

"Hey, Mn. You good?" Clara greeted you and you smile thinly. "Sort of. I'd like to sign myself off the lease?" "Sure." You go through the process quickly before smiling. "Now~ I'd like to report that apartment 502 has one name on the lease but three occupants." She smirks, noticing what you've done and nods. "Thanks for letting me know. Happened you have a better day." You look at her oddly and she points over her shoulder with a pen where you see monitors with cameras.

"Thanks, Clara."

Now to go see your dad and hope he lets you drink away your sorrows...he probably won't...

#x male reader #kai blue requests 📗 #avengers x male reader #peter parker x male reader #steve rogers x male reader #wanda maximoff x male reader

[charliehoennam]

hero's homestead

A/N: just a lil blurb I've had stuck on my mind and had to frigging get out since watching Road House

Pairing: Elwood Dalton x f!reader

Warnings: physical injuries, jealousy, kissing, mentions of grief and death

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

Growing up in Glass Key made your face quite familiar around these parts. Everyone knew you, not because you were popular or from a rich family. Lord knows you wish you were.

But because the island was just so small, like a little fishbowl with too many sharks circling around their prey, everyone knew each other around here. However, the small island was full of a strong sense of community.

Your friendship with Charlie started while you were in high school. You were just a freshman and Charlie was six when Stephen and his wife would very often ask you to baby-sit.

Saying no to them was nearly impossible. Not only did they pay you well, but they always offered you a ride home and made you sure you had dinner before leaving. They really treated you like you were part of the family and helping one another in the community was just so normal.

They always treated you with welcoming kindness and respect so, if there was anything you could do to help them, you did it. Aside from baby-sitting Charlie, this included working at their book store.

You were around there most of the time. If you weren't at home or at school, you were at Glass Books.

As you got older, you started to spend less and less time there in order to focus on your own personal and professional life.

That didn't mean you were never around anymore. You still made your frequent stop to buy the new read of the week.

"Why don't you just get all the books you want for the month, so you don't have to keep coming back?" Charlie questioned genuinely curious.

"Nah, I like coming here. I like the service. And besides, you'd miss me too much, kid" you chuckled watching the young teenage ring your book up at the register.

When Stephen told you about his wife's illness, it really took you by surprise. She could've easily been voted the happiest woman of Glass Key. The aura she possessed could make the dullest room become the brightest. Her sense of humor would have even the most no-nonsense person cracking a smile. She was an amazing woman and a motherly figure to most.

The entire community mourned her loss. The blue sky and the tropical environment wasn't enough to brighten the day for your neighborhood's residents. The heavy rains that followed that entire week led you to believe that even the island was weeping for her absence.

Between medical expenses, funeral costs and a growing teenager, Stephen had to learn to be a single father quite fast. And that meant working a full-time job to make end's meet.

He asked you to help out with the store and you happily agreed. Glass Books was his wife's dream. She loved spending her days there, in the cozy little bookstore she'd built with the love of her life.

Although you know Stephen has a lot on his plate, you can't help but wonder if he wants to avoid the store and her memory altogether.

You refused to accept money for it, knowing the shop didn't make so much money. Even so, Stephen would still transfer you a small amount whenever he could and would often bring you breakfast, lunch or dinner because he felt it was the least he could do.

All you wanted to do was help.

He was more than grateful, especially when he saw how you could make Charlie laugh by putting on music and dancing in the middle of the store with her.

He could see her slipping into a dark place after the death of her mother. Dealing with his own pain, he did his best. But, you were the best friend she needed. A feminine figure she could go to talk about more embarrassing situations or just to get her mind off of the loss.

Gradually, it seemed like their small family was beginning to heal. Although the loss was a still a fresh wound, and Stephen would often find Charlie clutching a small portrait of her mother asleep in bed, they were managing to keep the pain at bay.

You understand how important this store to them. It represents so much more than being just a simple local book store. It represents her.

The store was just as special to you as it was to Charlie and Stephen.

It had always been your refuge, but now, it was always the place where you met him.

Charlie, with her overly friendly nature that she inherited from her mother, struck up a conversation with the then stranger just outside the bookstore.

Her overprotective father was soon outside within seconds. Although the friendly streak ran deep within him too, he knew these parts were full of men with bad intentions.

Once he realized the stranger wasn't from around, he felt a little more at ease.

Although you remained inside the shop, you could overhear their conversation as you inched towards the door and opened it to stand in the doorway, eyeing the stranger with caution.

Stephen was surprised to know he'd come out of town to work at the Road House. To be honest, neither of you expected him to last very long. At that place, security never does.

The bouncer turnover never ceased with the riots that broke out there almost every night. So, you didn't bother getting your hopes up.

However, Dalton kept coming back. Every other day, he came in with the excuse of using the computer or buying a book just to strike up a conversation with you and lay down his flirtatious charm.

Charlie was the first to notice he would always come around when you were there and, if you weren't, he'd always make sure to ask when you were.

She had quite a bit of fun poking fun at you, telling you he had a crush on you or mocking the unconscious change in your voice you had when talking to him.

It didn't long take for feelings to develop between you and him. There was no doubt in either of you. Although unspoken, the magnetic attraction was undeniably present.

Some of those talks were deep and you felt you could confide in him to share things you hadn't shared with anyone at all. He, in turn, told you about the night on the train tracks and how the last fight he had in the ring haunted him every night.

There was no denying the bond you were forming. However, the rumors that were spreading around the island about the closeness between Ellie and him made you hesitant to make the first move.

When you casually brought it up into conversation, he shook his head and told you it wasn't anything serious and that she'd took him on a date once. You wanted to ask him if he had feelings for her, but that would be too much.

"So what's the deal with you and Dalton?" Charlie curiously asked, having picked up on the constant courtship that you two refused to act on.

"There is no deal. We're just friends. Hardly that."

"I may be young, but I'm no fool. I know there's something going on between you two."

"Sorry to disappoint you, kid, but there isn't. Besides, I hear he's got a sort of a girlfriend" you replied without looking up at her from the book in your hand.

You were both sat in fold-out beach chairs placed in front of the store, enjoying a couple of white cherry slushies, hoping the ice cold drink could soothe the hot, humid weather.

"How do you have a 'sort of girlfriend'? Either she is or isn't."

"Those things are complicated. I guess they're getting to know each other," you shrugged wishing you could avoid the topic.

"Like you guys are?"

"There is nothing going on. Sure, he's cute and funny and all, but he's seeing someone else. He's not interested in me, Charlie."

"So, you are interested in him?"

"It doesn't matter if I am. She's a doctor, she's smart and she's really pretty and drives a nice car. I know I don't stand a chance, so I'd rather not get my hopes up," you rambled, failing to read anything on the page you were stuck on. "Can we please drop this now?"

"Oh my god," she smirked staring at you. "You're jealous."

You scoffed at her ridiculous accusation and shook your head as you closed the book and set it in your lap.

"I am not jealous. I do not get jealous."

"Yes, you are! You totally are!"

"I am not! I just don't want to talk about this anymore, alright? So can we drop it?"

"Alright, alright. Sorry I brought it up."

She couldn't stop smiling as you opened your book to continue reading. Although you weren't her parents, her mind couldn't stop thinking of a way to parent-trap you into getting together.

However, her plans were brought to a halt when Brandt's lackeys invaded the shop just a few days later.

You tried your best to stand your ground and defend the shop along with Stephen. He told you to leave, but you refused.

After the beatdown you both received unwillingly, a fire had been set and the cruel men left. The adrenaline that surged through your bodies was enough to numb the pain in order to get you both quickly back on your feet to put out the fire.

Between the blood loss and the resurfacing pain, the billowing smoke got stronger and stronger. The flames became too strong too quickly and had engulfed the entire wall across the front counter.

Light-headed and dizzy, Stephen tried to save whatever he could from the store. As you rushed back and forth, you realized that the fire had grown too much and swallowed the front entrance.

The heat of it shattered the glass windows. The open air only fueled the fire more. Coughing from the heavy smoke, both you and Stephen got down on the floor to avoid the unbreathable air and attempted to crawl to the back exit.

Everything went dark after that and melded into one huge blur.

You don't remember when you actually blacked out, but you do remember feeling relieved once you heard the fire department's arrival.

The time you spent in the hospital was short - only a couple of days - but it was enough to make you reflect on your life.

An overwhelming sense of regret washed over you as you thought about Dalton.

You'd only known each other for a few weeks, but what if you could've had something special? What if Charlie's jokes were true and he actually ended up to be your soulmate?

She could be wrong too, but the fact that you could've died and never found out if you ever really did stand a chance ate at your mind.

You hadn't fully realized the extent of your attachment until a couple days later.

You show up at the store with a limp from the beatdown you'd received a couple days ago.

Stephan tries to assure you they're fine, that you need to rest and recover, but you argue that you'll go insane if you stay at home with nothing to do, high on pain meds.

Helping the owners clean and salvage whatever they can, Charlie casually mentions that Dalton and left her and her father a suitcase full of money to rebuild the store before he got on a greyhound bus destined to leave Glass Key.

The same regret you'd felt in the hospital strikes you again and secretly consumes you.

You try to play it off and instruct her to not to tell anyone about the money. You barely understand what she said after that. All you can think about for the rest of that morning is that he left and didn't even say goodbye.

When Charlie and her father invite you to get some lunch with them, you politely refuse, opting to stay back and keep yourself busy. You lie and tell them you had a big breakfast beforehand just so they won't worry.

You promised you wouldn't get your hopes up. You knew better than that. Bouncers never last at the Road House. You know this just as well as any of the other residents of Glass Key.

He's gone now.

You just want to be alone for a bit to process it.

The door opens and the bell above it rings as you sweep away at the shattered glass, forcing you to look back over your shoulder.

The sight you see has you frozen in surprise.

His face is impossible to forget. You could never forget those big blue doe eyes, even with the dark skin that circles his right eye.

You groan lightly at the shooting pain from your broken rib as you straighten and turn to face him, holding the broom by your side as you stand next to it.

Dalton closes the glassless door behind him as he greets you with a silent but friendly smile until the cut on your lip and the black eye remind him of the damage he caused.

He doesn't look too different from you. His eye is still a little swollen but mostly black now, his lip busted and the stitches on his eyebrow are all evidence that business has been handled at the Road House.

"So, the Glass Key hero returns" you smile at him, ignoring the sting on your bottom lip. "Charlie said you were riding off into the sunset. You forget something?"

"I'm not a hero and, no, I didn't" he starts, looking around the burned down shop trying to swallow his guilt.

"Changed your mind?"

"Someone kinda changed it for me, actually. A very wise person told me that heroes don't always have to ride off into the sunset. They can stay and make a homestead instead."

Joy bursts within you like fireworks on new years. You try to fight back the smile that creeps onto you lips.

"Thought you weren't a hero."

"I'm not."

You nod biting the inside of your cheek to mask your excitement. You take the second broom that Charlie had been using earlier and left leaning against the wall by the front door.

"This homestead could use a hand" you smile and offer him the broom.

He takes it with a happy grin, feeling finally accepted as if he finally found somewhere he belongs.

"There's, uh, one more thing" he says in a soft voice.

His hand raises to your chin, tilting your head up as he cranes his neck to kiss you in the most tender of ways.

Unable to forget about Ellie, you place a hand on his chest and gently push to stop the kiss.

Dalton's face contorts with confusion. He doesn't notice the breath he's holding, anxiety settling in as he fears that you'll ask him to stop. Maybe he got the wrong signals and you don't like him that way. He'd respect it, if that's the case, but it doesn't mean his heart won't be crushed.

"I thought you were seeing Ellie?"

He blinks slightly surprised. That's not what he had expected to hear, but it makes him kind of happy that you're not asking him to stop.

"She took me on a date and we kissed, but that was it."

"So, you are dating her?"

"What, are you jealous?"

"Why does everyone keep saying that? I'm not jealous."

"You sound a little jealous" he smirks.

"I'm not. I just... I don't wanna get my hopes up."

"I'm not dating her," he says gently stroking your bruised cheek. "I told her there's someone else for me, someone that I really wanna date."

He gazes into your eyes as you smile up at him and let him continue his kiss. You let his lips linger on yours and smile when you feel them stretch into a grin.

The cuts on your mouths hurt, but neither of you bother to pull away.

His kiss gradually intensifies. His tongue flicks over your bottom lip, politely asking for entrance. His free hand reaches for your waist as the other sets against your cheek, leaving the broom tucked in his arm.

You let his tongue slip past your defenses. The gentle way his hand cradles your face has you holding onto his strong forearm and the other broom for balance as the room spins around you from his vertiginous kiss.

Your chest presses against his as you moan softly into his mouth. It takes him every ounce of his self-control to not pin you against the wall.

The bell rings again, alerting you both of another's presence so you quickly pull apart, trying to quickly compose yourselves. Your eyes shoot to the door along with Dalton's.

You realize who it is, so he shyly lets his eyes wander around what's left of the store and sweeps the ashy floor.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," Charlie smirks sipping her juice from a straw as she stands in the doorway.

"No, no," you reply nervously as heat pools in your cheeks. "Dalton and I were just, uh, cleaning up."

"Cleaning what? The floor or each other's throats?"

Dalton snickers at her candor, glancing at you until she continues.

"Good to see you're back though. And if you ask me, it's about time."

#elwood dalton #elwood dalton x reader #elwood dalton x you #elwood dalton x y/n #elwood dalton fic #elwood dalton imagine #elwood dalton fanfiction #jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal fanfic #jake gyllenhaal fanfiction #jake gyllenhaal fic #road house

[warren-your-friend]

How different dhmis teachers react to you asking them on a date & what they are like as you date them:

I'm bored and hyperfixated and I need words for NaNoWriMo.

cw: some mentions of alcohol (Time Child), obsessive and controlling behavior (Warren), and implied depression (Unemployed Brendon)

Warren the Eagle:

-Warren seems shocked at first, taken aback by your advances when he wasn't even sure you wanted to be his friend. -Hearing this, you feel a bit bad that he hadn't realized you two were friends, but as you say that to him, he starts to panic a little, thinking he's upset you. (And he really REALLY doesn't want you to change your mind) -You pull him into a hug, and it only takes half a millisecond before he is holding you back tight. -"Yes!! Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES!" He holds you tight and you can't quite back away now, so you just melt into the hug, letting him tell you all about how excited he is. -As a boyfriend, he is obsessive and no small amount of jealous. -If you don't really have anyone else, he will happily take up every waking moment you have. -He has major insomnia and may end up watching you sleep, but only when you already know that he's spending the night. -If you do have people you care about and want to spend time with (whether family or friends) when he isn't there, he'll be too afraid of losing you to outright tell you that you can't do it, but he WILL guilt you and if you do happen to fall in love with him, he will get under your skin. -If you get involved with him, its best to involve him. If the people in your life can stand him long enough to get to know him, your relationship will go a lot smoother. -This guy is also a MASSIVE cuddler and very big on public displays of effection.

Colin the Computer:

-Colin was surprised by the question, but it's sort of hard to tell from the way that he responds. -He considers it and for a moment, you think he's going to say no, but really his mind is seven steps ahead and he is looking up places that would be fun to go to, while also not being too awkward for a first date. -When he finally speaks, it's to tell you that he's found live music festival at a park near you. There's dancing and food and it'll be a ton of fun! -You feel your heart swell with joy, your face getting hot. -If you aren't so sure about how well you dance, he is determined to teach you. To him, as long as you're close, any dancing is going to be perfect. -As a boyfriend, he is a lot of fun but rather energetic. -How close you are will determine how much physical contact there will be between you, so don't expect kisses on the first date, unless you have been friends for a good while. -Once you've dated for a while, he will ALWAYS be wanting to hold hands though. -He is SO much fun, if you're an extravert. -He's an introverted extravert, though. So don't worry too much if you aren't, he'll always want to recharge his own batteries at home too.

The Briefcase (Lucky Mo):

-Mo is all business when it comes to dating. He is dating to find someone to marry. Family means a lot, but he doesn't actually want children. -If you're rude to his brother, he is probably going to reject you immediately. -But if you don't encourage his brother or are unmotivated by the concept of working yourself, he's also probably going to reject you as well, though he will always encourage you to 'try harder', even as a friend. -If you have a job (whether or not you actually love it) and try to stay positive for Brendon, Mo will be a very encouraging lover and will want to go on as many dates as possible, as long as it works out around your schedules. -He's a very loyal boyfriend, dependable and encouraging. -He can be boring if you aren't proactive in finding things to do though, so be ready to make most of the choices for movie nights and where you go out to eat etc.

Unemployed Brendon:

-Brendon isn't sure what to say when you ask him out. -He's not used to people who love him for who he IS, rather than who he could be. -Yes, you will probably have to read his novel and if you didn't know it already, it's very sad with a very bittersweet ending. -You'll actually be surprised by how well written it is though and wonder where on Earth he got his inspiration from. He doesn't seem to want to talk about it though. -As a boyfriend, he is a bit of a nervous wreck, especially in the beginning. He doubts himself a lot, his ability, his life choices and most of all… if he is worthy of love at all. -His relationships with his parents are in tatters and his brother just keeps pushing and pushing him to do better. -His brother believes in him and while you can see the love behind it, you can also see the way that the stress of never being good enough wears down on Brendon… -But he loves you a ton, very fast. He's not as obsessive and jealous as Warren is, but he will always want to be around you. -He doesn't intentionally guilt you, but you know he can't help but feel like you're 'embarrassed' by him, if you don't take him places with you. -If you can encourage him to go to therapy, you'd actually have a healthy, loving relationship with Brendon. -You're paying for the therapy though. -And pretty much everything else.

Electracey:

-When you ask 'Tracey on a date, she had sorta been under the assumption you were either already dating or on a date, at the very least. -So she just continues conversing about whatever she had been thinking about, because of COURSE she wants to go on a date with you, silly! -She'll take you on walks through cities or late night parties in the city when everything is lit up, particularly in the summer. -Lots of life and energy comes with Tracey. -She's sort of a combination of Colin and Mo, in that she has all sorts of energy and loves to do things (she also has a great sense of humor), but she is also much less touchy than Colin and working with the electric company, she has a steady income to do just about anything. -The downside to Tracey is that she ALWAYS has energy. -She is extremely outgoing and she is a definite extrovert. -Don't expect 'downtime' with Tracey. She's up and out of the door early for a jog and likes to party hard on weekends. -She's the sort that will invite friends over for dinner on a work night, but the friends don't even show up until 8:00pm and you have to be up at 6:00am. -She's also not particularly tactile, so while she loves kisses and hugs, she's not really going to be holding your hand everywhere, or wrapping her arms around you while waiting for the bus. -Then again, she thinks you're super cool even on days you don't like yourself and she can SHRED on that guitar, so it all equals out, yeah?

Time-Child:

-It's less that you've asked them on a date and more that you found yourself on a date, unsure of where. -You only realize its a date, when T.C. wraps an arm around your waist pulls you into the VIP section of a very loud, very colorful club, introducing you to the bouncer as their date. -It's a TON of fun, but by the end of the night, you're exhausted and ready to go home and T.C. just sort of drops you off and goes back to the club and you're left kinda wondering what happened and why they thought to bring you at all. -They kinda leave you on read for a few weeks, until they show up on a long weekend, wanting to party again. -This is going to keep going until you make yourself less fun to hang out with. Oh well, looks like you're stuck with them!

#warren the worm #warren x reader #dhmis colin #unemployed brendon #dhmis briefcase #colin x reader #dhmis ship #dont hug me im scared #dhmis #warren the eagle #I can't figure out how to put a read more on here #Ive done it a hundred times why is the button not showing up? weird #time child #dhmis time child #dhmis electracey #electracey

[spideystark]

Small Drabble because YouTube gave me angst ideas when it showed me a clip from season 5 episode 6 😌

John had stayed in the infirmary until he'd started getting a questioning look from Jeannie at his insistence to stay, after that he went with Teyla and Ronon to get some food and then to the training room to let off a little steam. He probably should have been a bit more careful though, the splintered dummy that a couple of the Athosian kids had made for them to use? Was a little worse for ware.

After Rodney woke up it was Jeannie that came looking for him, and when he opened his door to her knocking she walked into the room without waiting for him to invite her in or really say anything other than. "Jeannie, what-"

"I just wanted to let you know Mer's awake." She was watching him closely and he doubt that she missed the breath he let out and the way his shoulder seemed the relax like a weight had been lifted off of him.

She crossed her arms as she spoke. "The looks the two of you kept giving each other in that cave, the way you wouldn't leave the infirmary when we got back-he asked where you were when he woke up. What is it he's not telling me?"

"Nothing. He's not...it's not my place to tell you, it's his." Jeannie wasn't dumb, she could put the pieces together and he knew that. Especially when it came to Rodney. "You should really be talking to him about this."

"...You two are sleeping together." John started trying to say something about talking to Rodney and not jumping to conclusions on her own but she didn't give him a chance. "Oh don't even try Sheppard, Meredith is hopeless when it comes to relationships but that doesn't mean I don't see the signs."

"I'm not going to go broadcasting it, Mer loves his job. I'm not gonna put that in jeopardy." She took a few steps closer to him though, arms uncrossing as she reached up and put a hand on each of his shoulders. "You hurt him though and super strength isn't gonna get in my way." So she has heard the gossip around the base about his...identity change.

#v; john sheppard #cleverestofclevermen #YouTube gave me inspiration for angst and now it's everybody's problem #I can't figure out how to put a read more on here from mobile so 🙃

[arminsumi]

ADULT STORE

↳ GETO すぐる + fem!reader

"Oh, see I told you... this product's a bit intense."

1.5k words

Pt. 2

Summary : product testing with the helpful employee at the adult store!

Warnings : minors do not read/interact : smut/explicit content : using toys, stranger/hookup sex, softdom!Geto, praise, cunnilingus, fingering, dirty talk, squirting, multiple orgasms, sex fantasy trope (sex with the adult store employee)

Note : i haven't made a trip to the adult store in ages bc... everything i want is so expensive lol (the struggle) 😭 i have some rlly funny adult store stories i could ramble about but i will refrain ✋ anyways, indulge yourselves in this fantasy, angels! 😈

Playme : wanna know what it's like?

The gate of the store buzzes, the employee watches you open it with a clink and enter the adult store. Your eyes flood with the overwhelming sight of wall-to-wall toys.

The smooth voice of the employee comes from behind the cash register.

"Yo."

Long hair. Dark, brooding look — almost gothic. Attractive hands with pronounced veins running over the back of them, poised on the countertop which he's lazing over.

He sees you and slowly straightens out his back out to impress you with his height.

"Ah, h-hello..."

He hears you stutter, and assumes it must be your first time in an adult store.

"First time? I mean, in an adult store, that is." he breaks the ice.

"Haha, y-yeah... yeah, it's my first time."

Yeah, that's what I thought.

He holds hard and deep eye contact with you. Yes, he's aware of how intensely he stares. He's doing it on purpose.

"Would you like some assistance, or do you just want to leisurely browse by yourself?"

His tone is so friendly, it doesn't let on to how heated his abdomen is getting at the sight of you.

"Yes, please, I'd appreciate your assistance."

Aw, of course.

"M'kay... then let me assist you."

He smoothly comes out from behind the counter and the two of you stand in front of a wall of toys.

"Overwhelmed?" he chuckles, noting how your eyes widen while looking at all the products. "I know there's a lot to choose from. But just focus on your needs. What do you need?"

"What do I need? Honestly, I have no idea what I need." you laugh nervously.

I know exactly what she needs...

"Well, why don't we carefully go through the products together? I'm sure I can figure out what you need. Promise I know my stuff. I've been working here for three years."

His nonchalance and professionalism puts you at ease. It's something he prides himself on: making customers feel relaxed.

Your eye catches on a pink dildo, so he takes it off the rack to show you up close.

"This one's good, it's got a ribbed design." he shows it off. "Are you looking for just penetration or clitoral stimulation?"

Aw, she's flustered.

"Uh, both I guess? Yeah. I'd love both."

Of course you'd love both. That's what you need, pretty girl.

"Both? Come over here. Let me show you something you might like."

There's a flirty tension between the two of you that just keeps getting more and more... intense.

He plucks a curvy vibrator. It looks expensive. Because it is expensive.

"This one's got ten functions—"

"—ten?! Sounds a bit extra."

"Nothing's too extra when it comes to your personal pleasure."

The two of you share a long look, then laugh.

"But it really is an excellent product."

"Are you advertising?" you joke teasingly.

"Absolutely." he jokes, "Kidding. I'm not trying to come across as a preachy marketer or something. I've used it with partners in the past, that's why I'm recommending it; I know it's good. It's a pretty intense toy. Helps girls squirt even if they think they can't."

I could make her squirt.

He's running his eyes up and down your body.

"Is that so...?" you mumble flirtatiously, eyeing out the product in his veiny, manly hands.

"Hm, still a skeptic? Because I'm sure I could please you."

He hopes that you note his deliberate use of 'I' and not 'it' there.

"Yeah. I'm sure you could please me, too." you flirt.

A heat erupts in his abdomen and stomach.

Oh wow... now she's really flirting, huh? Why'd I wear tight pants today of all days...

He has an unwavering gaze on you. You've captivated him. Put him in some kinda horny trance.

"Did I say me? Sorry. Slip of the tongue." he murmurs, voice dropping lower, "I meant the vibrator." he obviously lies.

You and him exchange a suggestive, longing look. You can feel your pussy clench around nothing, begging to get stuffed up and pleasured.

He hesitates before speaking again, as if he's scared of crossing a line and making you uncomfortable.

"If you want to... we could test it out together?" he suggests. His nonchalance is an act, really he's so nervous when he asks this.

"I'd love to..." you consent, and he doesn't miss the erotic excitement in your tone.

He nods towards the backdoor, eyes keeping on you and your cute little body that he just wants to feel and squeeze like a toy itself.

"Promise to keep your lips sealed about this? I don't wanna get fired for uh... you know... demonstrating products... to my pretty customer."

"Only if you promise to help me squirt for the first time."

Oh wow. Fuck. I'm hard.

His lips widen into a devilish grin. "Sure thing."

After a sloppy, desperate make out with this stranger, you find yourself sat on the couch in the breakroom. Door locked. Blinds shuttered closed. Legs spread wide to his liking, as he cushions the vibrator into your plush slit.

He's rubbing it slowly up and down your folds. He watches your reactions intently, breathing heavier at the sight of your pussy squishing under the pink dildo. The buzzing sound fills the room, but your moans are louder.

He clutches the toy gently, massaging the bulbous head into your clit with sweeping circular motions.

"F-fuck... that pretty clit feels good, doesn't it? Yeah? Let's get it feeling even better."

He turns it up a notch. It buzzes harder against your sensitive nub.

"How's that? Haha, yeah, intense, isn't it?

"Yeahhh — Fuck! Ohhh that's so good, that's so — oh my goddd fuckkk. S-sorry I think... I'm gonna cummm — !!"

"It's okay. Cum as hard as you can, yeah? I want you to get a good idea of how well this toy can pleasure you before you buy it, after all. Oh there we go... just let go and... f-fuck... wow... j-just cum like that. Fuck... that pretty clit feels so good now, huh? Gonna cum? Gonna cum for me, with a vibrator on your cunt?"

He takes note of your reaction to his dirty talk and smirks. Then he slyly turns the toy's setting higher and it buzzes more intensely, and in one... two... three... seconds, you're squirting like crazy all over the pink vibrator and his hand.

Holy shit, look at that pretty pussy gushing... she could drench my dick. I wanna be inside her so fucking baddd...

"Oh, see I told you... this product's a bit intense." he regains his professional tone after you cum.

He turns the toy off and watches you come down from your shaking orgasm, smug look on his face. He keeps it clutched in his veiny hand, and brings it up to his lips to suck and lick up all your juices from it.

She tastes so fucking good... I feel dizzy.

You watch him with wide eyes as he tastes your slick off the toy.

"F-fuck... wh-what did you s-s-say your name was again?" you stutter, starstruck by this stranger.

You're so fucking dizzy, your pussy is buzzing like it still feels the intensity of the toy against it.

"Hm, wanna know my name?" he smiles teasingly, "How about you cum on my face and then I'll tell you."

"Fuck, okay."

And then as soon as you give him permission, he's hungrily diving between your thighs.

"Oh my god..." he loves how you gasp and writhe under the influence of his mouth.

Let's see how fucked-out I can get her. Wanna see her lose her mind 'cause of me.

His lips latch onto your labia and suckle, then onto your clit. He points his tongue at your clit, then oh my god flattens it and laps at your bud while suckling. His softness shows a hint to tenderness in his personality; he really knows how to treat a woman well.

This stranger spoils your pussy with his tongue and lips. He seems to be in his own little world while nosing between your thighs. He carelessly gets your juices smeared across his cheek and lets the rest dribble down his chin.

"Fuck fuck fuck — like that, like that. Don't stop don't stop — !! 'm gonna cum! G-gonna — fffffffucking cummmm ahhhhh — !!"

He flicks the tip of his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves, eager to make your pussy freak out on his mouth. Just before you cum he slips two fingers into your hole, middle and ring, and pumps them into a sweet spot hard. He just wants to get an idea of the feeling of your pussy when it cums.

Suckling at your clit, fingering you with nice hard rough strokes, closing his eyes like he's the one enjoying it meanwhile he's silent and you're moaning like you're going insane. He can tell you're close and speeds it up.

"Cum cum cum, cum for me. Just let go and cum." he sounds so desperate, and that professional tone of his is finally cracking. "Cum on my fucking face, please."

And he dives his tongue right back into your hole, wriggling his tongue around, resulting in the nastiest wet squelching sound. His lips press flat against your pussy, he draws in a deep breath and your heat is all he smells.

Please cum on my face. Please please please.

"Ah! Fuck! Fuckkkk!"

You gush right on his lips, which are plump and swollen and red and glistening with your slick.

He pulls away and licks his lips and tells you his name.

"Suguru, by the way. My name's Suguru. Hey... can I give you my number?"

Oh he's so smooth. But he's even smoother at the checkout, when he asks if you're free this Friday for a date. At his apartment. With the company of some of his favorite toys.

© arminsumi

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

#smut #mdni #geto #geto suguru #geto x reader #geto smut #geto suguru smut #geto x reader smut #geto x fem reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk geto #suguru x reader #suguru smut #suguru #x reader #female reader #fem reader

[violetrainbow412-blog]

A fair payment [W. W.]

Willy Wonka x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

People who might be interested: @strugglingwriterwattpad @cattail5 [Timothée masterlist]

some minor Wonka spoilers I guess! If you like it, tell me in the comments, that will make me happy :)

“Can you mend it?” Willy asked, carefully holding his emerald green jacket that had the sleeve seam torn.

The boy had arrived a couple of weeks ago to turn the world of everyone present in the laundry upside down and, honestly, you were already beginning to enjoy his presence. You looked in the background at the blackboard that Noodle used at night to give him lessons in the hope that he would learn to read because, according to the girl's words, because of that he was almost eaten by a tiger. But in the man's words, what was important was the almost part. 

However, tonight he had asked you especially to go to his room, because he had a problem that he thought only you could solve.

“I think so, I just have to pass the needle a couple of times” you smiled.

Since your arrival Mrs. Scrubbit had used your sewing skills for her own benefit, because after all you had ended up in that mess trying to save a little to be able to buy the necessary materials to make a pretty dress that would be worth enough to advance in the business. Although, obviously, that had not been possible.

"Thank you! I'm afraid that's my only jacket."

“It will be ready in no time. I’ll just go to my room and come back, okay?” you said kindly, placing the garment in the boy's lap and earning a sweet smile from the aforementioned.

Just as Willy had his little briefcase for his chocolates, you had your own, full of threads, needles, and buttons, which you just had to grab from the floor to get everything you needed. When you arrived back you settled at the little table and he remained attentive to your every movement, pulling out a chair so he could observe what you were about to do.

“There was a boy on the ship who helped me with these things,” he began to tell you, keeping his curious nose on your shoulder “But I never thought about learning. You know, for when I had to be alone”

“Well, it's lucky you ended up here. We are a curious collection of workers,” you murmured ironically, referring to all the people gathered there against their will by the work of fate "What did you do on the ship?"

"Cook. Mostly sweet things, but I also know a couple of useful non-chocolate-related recipes. I was the chef,” he said, and you laughed at the exaggerated way he pronounced the last bit.

Willy began to tell you about some of the adventures he had had on the high seas and you listened attentively as the tip of the needle went in and out to join the fabric. It only took a few minutes to get his clothes looking like new, taking the liberty of repairing other places that also needed it.

“Put it on,” you asked, trying not to look at him too much when he did so or pay attention to the way the jacket fit him perfectly.

"It is perfect! You can't even tell it was torn, huh?” he said with emotion, feeling with his hands as much as he could. “How much do I owe you?”

“Oh, it's nothing.”

“I insist,” the man murmured. His curly hair bounced across his cheeks as he sat next to you and he lifted his small briefcase off the floor, opening it to reveal all the little bottles of ingredients. “Your talent for mine. It's a fair exchange."

You had to admit that the chocolates you had eaten were a complete delicacy, but a part of you didn't want to get used to that luxury or you knew that when Willy was gone you would miss his sweetness. In the literal and figurative sense.

Locked in that laundry it was impossible to meet many people your age and Noodle was your greatest company, as if he were a little sister to you. But now that he was there, there was a certain happiness in chatting with him, much more now that his ingenious mind had devised a way to get you out of there even if it was just for a few hours to see the light of day and get coins from the sale of the chocolates to free you of the enormous debt to Mrs. Scrubbit.

“What flavor do you want to try today? Do you want me to add some unicorn skin glitter? Rays of sunlight from a twilight on the seashore? Tears of an African crocodile?”

“Just give me something you think I need,” you replied softly.

Willy thought about it for a moment, because it wasn't the kind of answer he would have expected. What was he supposed to give you that night? A little hope? Happiness? Nostalgia? It was difficult to decide.

Through his bright eyes you watched him reflect and just a second later his hands began to work. You noticed there was a hint of mischief in his smile as he poured milk, chocolate, and the contents of a couple of jars into the processor, glancing at you from the corner of his eye from time to time.

“What are you going to do when we get out of here?” he asked suddenly, not neglecting the tasks.

“Working in a sewing workshop, I guess.”

“Why don't you open your own fashion house?” Willy suggested carefreely, as if it were a very easy thing to do, “You are a great dressmaker.”

“And you are a great dreamer”

“It's my best quality,” he exclaimed, almost offended. You waited a moment before answering.

“I just don't think it's that simple. It requires effort, time, and a lot of money…”

“We will have everything,” he interrupted you, with that optimism that characterized him. Suddenly he stopped what he was doing and one of his hands traveled to take yours. “When I open my factory, we will all be able to fulfill our dreams. And you are going to have a fashion house, I promise you.”

“You make a lot of promises,” you responded, blushing.

“And he planned to fulfill them all. I always do it"

Maybe there was something about the softness of his grip on your hand or perhaps the sparkle in his eyes that made you look away out of sheer nervousness. He seemed to be good and innocent, to the point that he probably didn't even realize how close he was to you or how inappropriate the position would be if Noodle ever walked in.

A tap interrupted your moment and then he abruptly pulled away, excited to show you the product he had just made. It was a pretty circular candy that was bright pink and seemed to be emanating smoke from the inside.

"What's that?"

“You'll have to try it to find out,” he murmured, as he extended the treat in your direction.

You had to admit that you were somewhat curious to discover what the man was offering you, so you took it between your fingers carefully, and even under his watchful gaze you took a bite.

At first it tasted like ordinary chocolate, but then it took on a strange tone, which made you feel a certain warmth in your chest that spread to your cheeks. It was a most pleasant feeling, like bubbly joy combined with the embarrassment of a hug.

You thought for a moment about what flavor that could be, without any success, until after a few seconds you realized that it wasn’t a flavor in itself, but a feeling, an experience... Was it love that Willy had given you?

“How does it taste?”

“Yummy,” you responded, covering your mouth so he wouldn’t see the wet chocolate on your tongue, but also to hide your smile “Delicious, actually. What does it contain?”

“A special and secret ingredient”

"Oh, come on! Aren’t you going to tell me?”

“I just want to know if I got it right,” he murmured and you frowned slightly, not understanding him “About what you asked for. Did I give you something you needed?”

You had to bite your lip to keep from smiling again, your cheeks feeling hot from the simple fact that he was looking at you. You thought that this could even be a love potion that you had consumed without thinking about it, just because he was the one who was offering it to you.

“We could say yes”

“We're even, then,” he exclaimed as he waved the sleeve of his jacket and you nodded in amusement, eating the rest of the chocolate he had made for you.

A yawn leaving your lips made you aware of how exhausted you were and although you didn't love the idea, you knew it was time to leave.

“It's late, I should go to sleep before we wake anyone up.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Willy said quickly, getting up from his seat to accompany you to the exit. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Rest,” you said kindly, and, gathering courage, you leaned forward a little to say goodbye with a hug that he gladly returned.

As you walked down the hall to your shabby, damp room, you thought that it probably wouldn't have even taken a love potion to fall for the charms of the pleasant chocolatier. You just needed one of his smiles.

#wonka 2023 #willy wonka x reader #wonka x reader #wonka movie #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee x reader #willy wonka #roald dahl #wonka fanfic #willy wonka 2023 #wonka fanfiction #wonka x fem reader

[ridingthatd]

✧༺ CRAZY CHOSO

chosoxfem!reader, nsfw, heavy smut, possessive choso, crazy choso, choso eating it out

choso stare down at his phone, his heart is empty, he feels like it isn't even here anymore- you stole it from him. you stole it from him a week ago, the day you decided to break up after a heated argument, and what bothers choso the most is that- he knows, he knows it his fault, you have always been patient with him, you have always showed your love to him- showered him with it.

even when- choso heart tightened, even when he never did- tears swell his eyes, even when all you received was a cold hearted jerk who doesn't know how to love, choso choke on his breath, tears running down his eyes- it finally hit him like a truck, after he finally lost you, after you finally realized he isn't worth your love, reality hit him.

he can't breath, fuck he can't breath, choso grab a hold of his dark locks, tugging them hard, fuck how could he- how could he treat his baby like this, how could he never say a simple i love you, even when you said it hundreds, thousands, millions times to him, even as- he chokes on his sobs, even as you left this door, your final word was "I love you, choso" and he didn't even go after you he just stood there, staring at you dumbfounded, why couldn't he just return your i love yous, is he this fucking much of a loser to be embarrassed to show his love to you?

the house was so quite without you, the only sounds that filled it was his choked sobs, he feels like he'll throw up, choso hurriedly made his way toward the kitchen to grab a cup of water- but what catch his attention as he was opening the freezer, is the sticky notes- your sticky notes, that you never forgot to leave for choso everytime he left to work, his hands shakily grabs into one of them.

"hope you enjoy the lunch i made you love ya :p".

a tear runs down his face.

"i left you some sweets today, even if you don't like them eat them love yaaaaa >:(".

another tear roll down.

he clenchs them against his heart- the heart that is bleeding sorrow, he slides down the fridge, hitting the cold kitchen floor.

it's been a week since you left choso, for a break as you're calling it, you sigh even though it's only been a week you miss your grumpy man. even though he might be cold in front of other peoples eyes- to you he was just a comfort person- a comfort pillow, cuddling him every time you can, choso was like the comfort blanket that people keep with them from childhood- no matter what other people say, you still love your little comfort blanket- your choso.

you look outside the window, it was raining, you couldn't help but think about how you would be cuddling with choso right now in this rainy day- while you tell him to read you whatever book he has in his hands, you listen to his rough voice, while he gently stroke his hand down your spine, putting you to sleep.

you wipe your tears immediately once you hear a knock on your door, you frown making your way to see who is it, at such weather, you were stunned to see chosos wet figure at your door, his clothes were snugged into him from being wet, his hair was dripping a few dots of water down his face, and your heart clenchs as you stare at his blood shot eyes.

"choso-"

he didn't mutter any words, he just simply held you up by your hips grabbing you so hard that you're sure that it will leave red marks on your sensitive skin later on. placing your heavy thighs on his board shoulder like they weight nothing, his face making direct contact with your bare pussy- regretting masturbating and forgetting to put your panties on.

"what are you doing?"

you couldn't finish your sentence because he's already shoving his tongue up your pussy, sucking, licking the juice from the orgasm you had an hour ago, an orgasm you had thinking about him, he clearly wasn't here to talk- he was here to do a lot more than talking.

it's been a week since you had something this good on sucking on your clit- something as good as chosos tongue, suckling on your clit like it's a nipple- like he's trying to get milk out of it- but the only difference is that he isn't trying to get milk, but he's trying to rip an orgasm out of your cunt.

and of course he did, you grasp hard on his long black hair, gasping out to the ceiling, arching your pussy into his mouth, making sure he drinks all of your juice and he glady do. like a starved man who hasn't had water for day, and your pussy was a river of water for him.

you look at him, thinking he will let you go by now, but he didn't, he keeps his face shoved into your pussy, it drives you crazy the way his nose brush against your clit everytime he breaths.

"could put me down, please?"

he clearly had no intentions of putting you down anytime soon, because he selfishly licks, slurps at every drip of arousal that leave you. you weren't sure what to do, you always knew that choso was obsessive in his own way, but you only got to experience a bit of it, but now that you left him you're sure it triggered a part of him that you've never seen before. he keeps sniffing, trialling his nose on your clit, wetting his face with your wet cunt.

"darling" you moan out.

he simply lock his lips on clit again sucking on it, his eyes are closed as if he's a youngling sucking, his long eyelashs tickling your belly, ripping a giggle out of you, making him finally look at you, with his red-puffy lips wet from your juice.

"can you put me down now?"

he pulled you from his shoulders but kept you in his arms. as he led you into the bedroom, glancing at your underwear that you left on the floor. choso placed you on the bed and pressed you against it with his body. he was cornering you, engaging in some primal display of possessiveness that he never showed you before.

his hands were roaming around your body, he was clearly trying to in print you again, feel your warm skin against his hands again, he keeps his face inside of your neck rubbing his face on it, as he stroke his hand from your thighs to your ass, just to make his way to your breast, as soon as he feels the fabric of your bra- he doesn't like it one bit, so he simply rip it off, out of his way.

cold air hit your nipples making them harden, he trails his face from your neck slowly to your breast, brushing his lips softly against your nipples, breathing in but not taking it inside of his mouth. he just wanted to feel you, feel your skin against his again, because he clearly thought he won't get to feel that ever again.

your heart clenchs at the thought of what he might have felt, the feeling of being left all alone, choso never acted like this before- right now he's acting like a baby he never was able to act like, he was always putting a hard on act.

you quickly snatch his head closer to your body, holding him close, so close that you can listen to his pluse "it's okay baby, I won't ever leave you again."

you can feel it pick up, quick, clearly affected by your words, you smile knowing it always made him shy whenever you called him baby no matter how many times you say it, he still gets frustrated. he doesn't say anything, he just look up at you, before he opens his mouth that was brushing against your nipple and place it inside his mouth, his tongue was quick to circle the bud.

"we- we should really talk about..."

he makes sure to coat both of your nipples with his silvia, leaving your nipples all swollen and red, before he picks you by your hips again and placing you on his, clearly didn't have enough.

you were suffocating his face. again. choso was a 6 feet big guy, so that clearly didn't bother him.

he kept on slurping on your pussy, till it's silk with your orgasm and his silvia, making sure to print your taste against his tongue so it will last for weeks.

"okay," you panted, your sweaty forehead now resting on the cool sheets, while your defeated cunt hovered over his mouth.

"we need to talk now. you've spent half the day licking me."

but the only words choso mutter out were- "sleep now" he horsely says. as he snuggle his face into your boobs, you were about to complain till you felt wet drops slide down your cleavage, you shut your lips together, gently stroking his hair pushing him further into you.

but choso didn't have any intentions of sleeping because you feel his rough, huge hands make their way toward your wet pussy drenched with your orgasm and his saliva. he slowly warped his lips around your nipples, drawing circles with his tongue.

you felt him tug his pants down, as he frees his huge leaking cock out of it, he slowly shove his cock inside of your tight cunt and he couldn't help whimpering on your nipples, missing your warm, wet pussy.

"shh it's okay baby, I'm here- I'm here" you whine out, drunk on the feeling of being stuffed with his cock.

it only takes him a few rock of his hips before he's spilling his hot cum inside of you, you thought he was gonna pull out- he didn't he kept his cock inside of you all night, while your nipples brushed against his lips as he softly breath out, sleeping in your embrace.

you can feel him get hard again inside of you every once in awhile so he just jults awake, stare at your nipples with hazy eyes before he takes your fat hard nub into his mouth, suckling, biting on it while he start rocking his cock into your already cum filled pussy, till he fill it again, fall asleep and the process repeat till the next morning.

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[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

The Meetup

《Part 2 for Next Caller

《Pairings:College!Eddie Munson x shyfem!reader

《Summary: After your call with Eddie, you can't get him off your mind. You promised yourself to let your fears go and finally speak with him in person. Some things don't go as originally planned because Eddie just so happens to walk into your coffee shop.

《Warnings:fluff,smut. 90s!Eddie, a little tiny bit of dry humping, oral ( female & male receiving) dirty talk, pet names (good girl, sweetheart) phone sex, masturbation (male). Sex toys (fleshlight)

Word count: 7.7k

A/n: Please reblog like and leave a comment to show support. Not proofread ignore any mistakes you come across.

Disclaimer: Please read part one linked at the top to understand the rest of the story.

Mini series masterlist

18+ minors dni

Almost a few days after the stunt, you pulled on the radio with Eddie it didn't take long before word got around on campus. It's all anyone could talk about they wanted to know who the mystery caller was, and Eddie seemed to be cornered more so than usual. As people surrounded him, he wished maybe one of them were you. Hiding amongst the crowd of people.

Anytime a woman called in, his assistant would jump out his skin. He knew he should have shut it down the moment it started, but he trusted Eddie. Now, anytime the phone rings, he instantly goes into a frenzied panic. Eddie just laughs at how over dramatic he was being. He knew if someone called in trying to pull the same stunt as you did, he'd turn them away. He's not gonna tell his assistant that, though. He likes how jumpy and absolutely horrified he gets when there is a female voice on the other end of the line.

You still listened in every show since that night. Almost every time someone called in, they would either want to do what you did or want to talk about you. One thing that pretty much kinda bothered you were some of the girls calling and pretending to be you. Sometimes, you felt like it was bait, and someone was just trying to get the real "Miss caller" to give away her true identity. Much like how tonight was going, if you were tired of it, you can only imagine how he must feel.

"Yeah hi its me calling you back." An unfamiliar female voice spoke.

"Nice try, you don't really sound anything like her, buh-bye." His voice etched with annoyance as he hung up on the fifth woman of the night.

"Anyone want to call in and talk about I' dunno sports?" He sounded absolutely over it.

"I'm fucking desperate over here."

He emitted a long sigh into the mic. "Can someone call in with an embarrassing or some shit?"

You begin to drown out the sound of him talking as he tries to move along the segment.

You felt bad you truly did for what was happening to him now. You don't regret choosing him to help you, but you wish the circumstances were a little different. You hope he didn't hate you for this. You don't think you could live with yourself if he did.

Eddie on the other hand couldn't get you off his mind. You infested it, and no matter how hard he tried to think of over things, you creeped your way back in. He dreamt of you, and every dream was the same. He could hear you speaking to him, but right when he got close enough to reveal who you were, he'd wake up.

He got absolutely chewed out by his boss that following day. His show was close to being taken off the air, but once they saw how much buzz it was getting, they decided against it. He was on thin ice, though, when it came to how raunchy his segment was allowed to get. The conversation made local news in your town, which created more concerns for you.

The thought of someone figuring out how to trace your call back to your home terrified you to no end. Could they even do something like that? You don't know and definitely don't want to find out. Eddie did make a promise to keep you anonymous, but that didn't mean everyone else who worked there did. You try to push the paranoia to the back of your mind and just put all of your focus on school and work. This whole situation should blow over shortly you hoped.

Even with all of the chaos at your campus right now, that still didn't persuade from wanting to go see him play Thursday. Which was perfect timing since your roommate was going out of town that same day. Leaving you to an empty home all to by yourself. Who knows, maybe you'd get lucky and take him home. It was wishful thinking on your part, but still, it could happen.

Little did you know you didn't need to wait that long to see him after all. As you just rang up a customer's coffee order, he was next in line. He was too preoccupied looking at all the coffee options on the menu to see he's the next one to in line. You cleared your throat to get his attention and he looked right at you.

Your heart felt like it was in your throat when his eyes met yours. He looked very good today, making it much harder for you to focus. He had his hair pulled back and wore a oversized black corduroy button-up shirt with black ripped jeans. He gave an apologetic smile for holding you up.

"Uhhh, sorry, I really don't know what this shit means." He laughs, pointing back to the menu above.

Your mouth goes dry, and you try to play it cool.

"Well, what kind of coffee do you usually like?" You asked, trying to forget about who's standing before you. He's just some guy you kept reminding yourself.

He pressed his lips in a thin line, "Well, i usually don't drink coffee. if I did, I guess I wouldn't want it to taste like ass."

"So whatever you suggest."

You giggle and smile, turning to look at the menu as well. "I'd suggest maybe a vanilla latte. It's pretty basic."

"I'll take whatever you tell me to." He holds his hands up in surrender. "I'm putting all my faith in you."

"Wait a minute, are you implying im basic?" His mouth agape throwing a ringed hand over his heart pretending to be offended.

He was toying with you hoping to get you to laugh but instead you panicked.

Swallowing hard." N-no...its just a pretty standard drink to order."

"Hey, it's cool. I'm messing around." He reassured.

"Oh..um okay well then."

You try to regain your composure as your face begins to tingle.

"Okay, and what size? Small, medium, or large? " You asked him, trying to hide the fact that you're rapidly about to lose your mind.

"Oh, I need a large."

You nodded, putting in his order and ringing him up. He stands there a moment too long, and it's making you a little nervous. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

Your eyes grow wide, and you quickly turn to look away.

"Nope." You shook your head.

"You sure? You seem so familiar to me." He bends down on his elbows leaning on the counter. He's trying to examine your face to remember where he knows you from.

"We may have a had a class together at some point." You shrug.

"I mean yeah--but I don't know there is something else." He continued staring while you ran around behind the counter, putting away fresh croissant.

The longer it took for his latte to be finished, the more anxious you got. He wouldn't stop looking at you. You wanted to tell him it's rude to stare, but you don't. He kept trying to make small talk with you, which didn't help your nerves at all. You kept stumbling over your words or clearing your throat because it was getting dry.

You took a breath of fresh air when they finally called his order number. He took his coffee and waited around until you came back. "So, uhh, I don't know if this weird, but you wouldn't be apposed to going on a date with me?"

You blinked twice trying to figure out if you just heard him correctly.

"Come again?" You ask in disbelief.

"Oh, well, I was wondering if I could take you on a date?" He repeated as a small blush creeped along his cheeks.

"Yeah, sure. I mean, I'd love to." You tried to keep your cool, but on the inside, you were jumping for joy.

His smile grows ten times wider when he hears you accept his date. "Great, write down your address and phone number so we can keep in contact."

You nodded and ran to grab a pin and paper, giving him all of the information he needed. He also wrote down his number to give to you as well, just in case you needed to get in touch before your date.

"Cool, how's Friday sound?" He asks, taking the piece of paper you handed him. "Friday sounds great, actually."

"My names Eddie, by the way." He added motioning to himself.

He smiled again, taking a sip of coffee as he began heading for the door. He turns to look at you one last time before leaving. "I'll see you Friday, pretty girl."

"Thanks a latte." He joked, holding up his cup before finally exiting the coffee shop. His face scrunched up with embarrassment as he turned to leave. Why the fuck did I just say that? He thought to himself as he practically chugged down his drink, heading to his first lecture of the day.

You're standing still behind the counter, frozen in place. Did that really just happen? That fast? You started to think someone was pulling a prank on you. Maybe everyone did find out you were the caller and decided to mess with around. No, Eddie doesn't seem like the type of guy who would do something like that, you thought. You just couldn't get over how easy that was, a little too easy.

The week went by way too fast for you, and the closer it got to your date, the more anxious you became. You wanted to tell him so badly it was you who called. Would he even still like you after that? He seemed just as eager to meet you as you wanted to meet him. Doesn't really matter now. You'd tell him eventually anyway. Especially if this date goes well.

You didn't see or hear from him too much during the days leading up to Friday. You figured he was very busy since he still was doing his show on the radio and playing with his band. On top of attending classes, he seemed like he didn't have much free time. Which is why you didn't cancel on him like you were probably going to. After you thought about it for a while, you realized he definitely was making the time to take you out.

Eddie called you a few times to check in and see if you were still willing to go out with him. He'd make small talk to ask how you were and if your classes were going well. He'd crack a joke or two, making you laugh easing your mind of any self doubt you had before.

Now that it was officially Friday evening, you quickly left work early to go home and get ready. He said he'd be come by eight o'clock to pick you up, giving you a few hours to decide what to wear. You searched through each article of clothing hating every single piece. You know deep down he doesn't care about what clothes you're wearing. He asked you out while you were in your work attire. With your coffee stained apron and dumb hat.

Still, you wanted to look nice for him, and you don't get out much as it is. So you opted for just a simple black dress. Dowsing yourself in a sweet perfume and putting on a pair of heels. You pray you don't end up falling and busting your ass in front of him tonight. You were shaved, plucked, and smelt of vanilla and spice.

You were just putting the last touches to your makeup on when you heard a knock at your front door. You did a last mirror check, making sure everything looked well put together. You take a long, deep breath and exhale before you go to open up for him.

When you opened the door to greet him, he was standing there with one hand in his pocket. While the other is holding a bouquet of flowers. He wore a black pullover sweater with the sleeves pulled up to his elbows, revealing his tattooed arms. His dark curly hair loose around his shoulders, and he smelled like mint and tobacco. His smile widened when he saw you for the first time since your last meeting. His dimples on full display, and you couldn't help but melt a little. "You look beautiful."

"Thanks. You don't look too bad, either." You smile, stepping out to stand closer to him. "Nah, I just wanted to impress you."

He blushes, and this is the second time you've seen him do that. He gave a boyish smile and handed you the bouquet of flowers he picked. "These are for you, sweetheart."

"Thank you." You reached out to accept the flowers. "They're beautiful."

There is a moment where you both don't say a word and just stand there gazing at one another.

Eddie cleared his throat. "Shall we?"

You nodded, closing the door behind you and making your way to his van. He walked next to you with a hand on the small of your back. He moved past you quickly to open the door and help you get into the passenger seat. Eddie made his way to the driver side and hopped in no longer after you.

The drive to the restaurant was fairly quiet except for the music playing on Eddie's radio. He humed along, tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel to the beat. You both steal glances here and there when the other isn't looking. Your heart beating a mile a minute.

Eddie seemed calm and collected, but on the inside, he felt just the same. Usually, he was pretty confident around women, but there was something about you that made his heart skip a beat. He doesn't know what it is that pulled him in so quickly. He's not complaining one bit either.

You finally see the restaurant up a head and sigh in relief. He pulled up and parked in the front. He made you wait there while he jumped out of the driver side to jog over to help open up your door. You took his hand and carefully got out while trying not to flash anyone in the process. You wish the dress you finally decided on wasn't so short.

You make your way inside where a hostess greets you both and guides you to a table in the far back. You sit across from one another while she handed you a menu to look over. A waitress soon comes by to ask what drinks you'd like, and you both settle on a Dr pepper.

She returned not too much longer to take your orders and set down your drinks. You and him seemed to be in sync tonight since the both of you ordered a burger with onion rings on the side. Once she took your order, she left, leaving you alone together again.

"So I'm gonna ask a boring question and say what do you enjoy doing for fun?" He playfully asked, taking a sip of his soda.

"Uh, well, I haven't been having much fun lately with work and school taking up my time." You confessed feeling a little embarrassed you don't live an exciting life you imagined he did.

"You don't hang out with friends or go out?" His brows furrowed.

You play around with a piece of paper on the table, avoiding his gaze. "Uh, well, I don't have that many friends here."

"I mostly just keep to myself and stay home a lot." You continued on.

He frowns. "Boyfriends?"

You shake your head, trying not to even think about any of your exes at a time like this.

"You know what? I'm sorry. I shouldn't ask about boyfriends while in the middle of a date." He gave an apologetic smile.

"Hope he doesn't mind sharing you for the night, though." He winked, making you laugh.

He seems to enjoy making you laugh when he notices you're uncomfortable or getting shy.

The waitress finally arrived back with your food, and you didn't hesitate to start eating immediately. He watched you with amusement and started eating right behind you. The longer you both talked, the more relaxed you became.

You were already familiar with him and found a form of comfort when listening to his show. But being alone with him felt different. You never thought this moment would come. You almost wanted to cry, thinking it was just some elaborate dream that you'd soon wake up from. The date was going amazing so far, and you never wanted it to end.

"So, um, how's your show going?" You ask him, not wanting to seem like he was the only one asking the questions.

"It's good..well actually I'm in some trouble, but they'll live. More people are listening in now, so I think the money will shut them up." He openly admited, shoving an onion ring in his mouth.

You raise an eyebrow "in trouble for what?"

You already knew but wanted to hear him say. You kept wondering what he thought about that phone call. Even if it might hurt your feelings, you were dying to know. Your curiosity always got the best of you.

He shakes his head. "Maybe I'll talk about it on our second date."

You giggle, finishing off the last bit of your dinner. "What do you like to do for fun?"

"Well, I play DnD when I have extra free time, I play with my band at the bar by campus." He frowned a little at the mention of his band.

"Sadly, we probably won't be playing much together here very soon." He adds.

Changing the subject quickly, not wanting to bring the mood down. "Girlfriends?"

"No girlfriends."

He eyed you up and down, grinning wide poking his tongue on the inside of his cheek. You swear you could see a little twinkle in his eye.

He leans forward, getting awfully close. " You almost ready to go?"

"Um sure, yeah." You respond a little sadly, not wanting the night to end so soon. He waves for the waitress to bring over the bill. Once he was done paying, you both got back in his vans.

The van ride back to your place wasn't as awkward as before, but there was something electric in the air. There is too much tension between the two of you. It felt like the silence was lingering until one of you decided to make the first move.

He pulls up in front of your home and helps you step out of the passenger side. Both of you walking up to your front door, not speaking. This was your chance to invite him in. You thought to yourself. "I had fun tonight."

"Yeah, me too." He smiled, putting his hands back in pockets.

You look up at him and whisper. " Do you want to come in?"

He paused for a moment, hoping he heard you correctly before answering. "Yeah, I'd love to come in."

You unlock the front door and take his hand, pulling him inside and guiding him to your bedroom.

The moment he was finally in his lips, crashed onto yours in a heated kiss. The kiss was sloppy and passionate as your tongues fought for dominance. Your lipstick smears on his mouth. He breaks away to move down your jaw and nip at your neck right under your ear. He nibbled and sucked at your tender skin, causing your knees to buckle. You grabbed onto his biceps, holding on tightly to keep your balance.

He stops to look at you in your eyes. "You wanna get undressed for me?"

You swallowed hard and nodded.

"Words, pretty girl." His voice is low and husky.

"Yes." You panted.

Eddie reaches around to unzip the back of your dress, letting it pool around your feet. He squates down his face mere inches from your heat. He looks up at you through his long lashes. He kisses your tummy right above the waistband of your panties before reaching to grab your ankle. He brought it forward to unclasp your heel. Your hands grip onto his shoulders, steadying yourself. He tosses the shoe to the side before moving to the next one and doing the same.

He stands up, reaching around your back again, unhooking your bra, and letting it fall to the floor, exposing your breasts. Your nipples harden in the cool air of your bedroom. You watch him as he takes his shirt off, exposing his bare chest to you. You notice tattoos you've never seen before. One of a faded demon on his peck and a black widow right under his clavicle. "Be a good girl and lay back on the bed."

You hesitate for a moment as your mind is already feeling hazy. You turned to slowly make your way up the bed, laying back against your pillows. You watch as he took his boots off and unbuckeld his jeans, letting them hang low on his hips. He seductively crawls his way up until he is hovering above you.

You push on his chest. "Umm....I don't think it's a good idea if we have sex."

He sit back on his knees. "Want me to leave?"

"No, we can do other stuff. I'm just not ready to do that." You confessed.

"Hey, we don't have to do anything you don't want to." He reassured you, bringing a hand to gently cup your cheek.

You let out a shakey breath, feeling a little more comfortable . You were worried he would be mad at you, but he wasn't.

"If you don't like anything I'm doing, don't be afraid to tell me,okay?" He's being sincere, you can tell. He wanted you to feel safe with him.

You nodded again. "Okay, i will."

"Good." He smiled and leaned down to give you another kiss to your lips.

He brought his hips against yours grinding his hard cock against your core. You moan in his mouth when his cock applies pressure to your clit over your panties. He pushes against you harder, causing him to grunt. He moved to lay by your side, pressing his front right up against you. His fingers dance and play with the waistband of your panties. You can feel his prominent buldge pressing against your outer thigh. His calloused fingers slowly slips past the delicate lace. You can feel him brushing past your clit. He carefully glides his middle finger in between your wet fold, collecting your slick on his finger. Ignoring your aching bud in the process.

"Fuck you're so wet." He murmured against your mouth.

He pushes one finger inside your entrance, pumping it agonizingly slow. Your head falls back, giving him the perfect opportunity to attack your neck. He nips and sucks on the skin by your ear. Biting, licking, and sucking while his finger is knuckle deep in your pussy. He adds another stretching you open around his thick fingers. His thumb pressing firmly on your clit. You squeezed your eyes shut and let out gasp.

"Think of my cock pretty girl." He whispered curving his fingers upward.

"Mmm!, s-so good." You whimper.

That's all you could respond with your mind completely gone. All you could do was focus on how he seemed determined to make you feel good. You feel him smile against your neck when where his lips were leaving feather like kisses all over. You clench around him as his fingers start working on that sweet spot on your walls.

"F-fuck." You let out a strangled moan bucking your hips.

He grinds his cock against your thigh. "Feel that?"

"Feel how hard I am for you?"

You look up at him with big doe eyes."y-yes I can feel you."

His picks up the pace, his fingers plunging in and out, making your head spin. Your pussy wet and loud taking his middle and ring finger. The tightness in your core building with each pump of fingers. Your moans getting more pornographic. His warm breath on your neck making you squirm.

"You're such a messy girl. My hand is getting soaked." He purrs in your ear.

He ruts harder against your thigh, violently rocking your bed.

"Can I taste you?" He rasped.

You let out groan. "Please"

You swallow hard as your heart feels like it's beating out of your chest. You're already breathless. A small frown forms on your face when you feel his thick fingers leaving from inside of you.

"Ah ah, no pouting." He wiggled his index finger at you playfully.

No one has ever done this to you before. None of your exes cared about your pleasure they only wanted to get themselves off and then leave you to handle the rest. Eddie was the first man to help you cum and now he's going to be the first man to taste you. All of your ex boyfriends were selfish lovers. Which brought on so many insecurities you've been working hard to overcome. There was a part of you that didn't want him to keep going, but there was another part that was telling you to let go and enjoy it.

He gave you one last deep kiss on your lips before moving and kissing his way down right above your sex. He looked up at you again, and his pupils were blown out with lust. He never breaks eye contact as he slowly drags your panties down your legs. He sits up higher for a moment, admiring your naked body spread out before him. You went to close your legs, but he stopped you. "Let me see you."

Thats all you needed to hear before spreading them wider for him.

He cursed under his breath, closing his eyes, trying not to attack the moment you show yourself to him. "I'm gonna make you feel so fucking good."

He dips down again, his face so close to your pussy now. He hums in approval when he sees how soaked you are for him. Your slick dripping down to the curve of your ass. He kisses the inside of your thighs, testing to see how much you can take before you're begging him for more. It doesn't take long before you're already impatient. He nips and sucks at the soft skin, making you buck up against his face. His nose nudging your throbbing clit.

"Patience, sweetheart." He laughed.

You buck up again, wanting desperately wanting his mouth.

Without warning, you feel his warm tongue licking a long strip between your wet folds. You sucked in a breath, never having felt something like this before. "OOh!,Eddie." You mewled

He pulls you down hard against his face, grunting against you. He sucks and laps at your folds, letting your slick cover his face. You grind against his mouth, throwing your head back against the pillows. Your legs go to squeeze around his head, but his strong hands hold them in place. He takes his tongue to flick across your clit making you wriggle. His mouth attaches to your sensitive bud, and he sucks on it softly. You went to push his head away as the sensation is too much. He removed his mouth, checking see to see if you're okay. "You okay?"

"Why'd you stop?" You whined.

He smiled before reattaching his plump lips to your clit slurping and flicking his tongue over it. He watches as you writhe above him. His eyes never left you as he almost seemed mesmerized by the sight before him. You've never felt this desired by anyone before. Your hips bucking as you grind on his face as he begins sucking harder on your aching clit.

You grip the blankets beneath you. "i-im getting close."

His removes a hand from one of your thighs and carefully pushes one finger inside your entrance. You grab and pull on his hair, making him grunt against you. He adds another finger, curving them upwards to stroke that sweet spot on your walls.

Removing his mouth for a moment "Yeah is my good girl gonna cum?" He asked quickly reattaching his lips to your sore clit. Your backing arching off the bed as you pull on his hair some more.

Your walls pulsating around him as his fingers pump in out of you fast. His mouth sucking on your clit harshly as his fingers plunge deep inside your pussy. The wet noises his mouth is making as his tastes you, mixed with the squelching of your pussy fill the room.

He's lapping away at you, getting lost in your taste, driving you absolutely wild.

"Mmphf! Don't stop." You begged him.

You feel that all too familiar tightness building again, and you clench around his fingers. Your legs are twitcing and trembling. You're breathing harder than before. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your orgasm washes over you fast, leaving your body to shake. Eddies mouth never letting go of your clit. While his skilled fingers work on your pussy helping you ride out your orgasm.

He removes his mouth and fingers from you tenderly, not wanting to hurt you in any kind of way. His face glistening with your slick and his lips look swollen. He moves to lay next to you on your bed. You're slowly coming down from your high. Your breathing evening out as you come to. You both lay there in silence for a few minutes.

"Can I taste you now?" Your voice sounding small as you asked.

"Fuck." He murmured under his breath.

"Yeah, you can taste me." He whispers back.

Moving to sit back between his legs, you reached to take off his pants off. He helped you by wiggling them down his legs and discarding them to the floor. You notice how painfully hard he is in his boxers, and you lick your lips. Hooking your fingers in the waistband of his boxers and pulling them down. His his cock spring free hitting his belly button. The head an angry red leaking precum down his shaft. He hisses when the cool air hits sensitive his tip. Your eyes widened at the size of him. You now know he was telling the truth. He was big, and you don't know how you're gonna be able to fit all of him in your mouth.

He grabs it, giving it a few light strokes eagerly waiting for your mouth. Precum still dripping alongside it, getting on his hand.

"Don't be shy." His voice low and deep just like how he spoke to you that night on the radio. "I hope you'll let me be inside you one day."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? He bites his lip, waiting for your response.

"Yes." Your voice barely above a whisper.

His eyebrows raise, and a cocky grin spreads across his face. "You felt so tight taking my fingers. I can only imagine how you must feel when I'm spreading you open."

"Just thinking about you taking my cock. The little noises you'd make as you're begging for more."

He presses his thumb on the leaking slit his mouth forming an O shape at the pressure. The veins along his shaft are prominent from the amount of blood rushing to his cock.

"Making you cry because it feels so good." He's breathing heavier while eyeing you in front of him. He wants to get you worked up until you can't take it anymore. Teasing was his favorite part before anything. He didnt even have to touch anyone before he had them begging to be fucked in some type of way.

He kept going on. The way he was speaking to you brought you right back to the night you called him. You squeeze your thighs tightly together, desperate for any small amount of friction.

"Gonna think about that tight pussy when I'm cuming down your throat." His voice deep and seductive. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Hes thinking about all the ways he'd fuck you. Imagining what your pretty tits would look like with his cum is dripping down them. Filling you up with his cum and watching it dripping out after removing his cock.

Watching him stroke his cock as he thinks about fucking you makes your pussy flutter. You wonder what he must feel like. The feeling of him stretching you open. You're getting tired of him taunting you. You needed to taste him now.

You smacked his hand away, replacing it with your own, giving it a few more light strokes. You move your thumb to press down on his tip. He grunts and bangs his head back against your headboard. You bend down to give the head of his cock a quick peck. You remove your hand and spit into it as you grasp his thick shaft, rubbing it up and down lazily. His mouth hangs open as relaxes and enjoys what you're doing.

Moving your mouth closer, you kitten licked at his tip, tasting his precum. His thrusts his hips as you continue teasing him like he did to you earlier. You take the opportunity to pull away and spit directly on his cock earning you low groan deep from his chest. You begin to suck on the head of cock. Using your spit mixed with his precum as a lubricant to continue stroking his hard length with your hand.

Gliding your mouth down his length until he's hitting the back of your throat, making you gag a little. You removed your hand, resting them on his thighs. You try relaxing your throat while taking as much of him in your mouth as you can. He wasn't even all the way in, and he's already has you gagging. Tears leaking from your eyes smudging your mascara.

"Oh! fuck!, c-careful, sweetheart." He coaxed you.

Drool spilling down your chin as you try to take more of him in your throat. You attempt to keep him back there and focus on breathing from your nose. Sucking lightly on him, you pull him all the way out and swirl your tongue around his tip. "Hmm! your mouth feels so fucking good."

Your tongue wet and warm teasing the head of his cock. Eddie does everything in his power to not push you back down on his length.

He breathed heavily. "Shit! I-I not gonna last if you keep doing that."

Removing his cock from your mouth, creating a loud pop in his absence.

"you like it when I tease your cock eddie?"You asked in a sultry voice.

You wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine.

"Look who's not so shy afterall." He taunted you

You don't know what has come over you suddenly, but having him here in your bed tonight gave you a boost of confidence you never knew you had.

Putting the head of his cock to your mouth sucking it firmly almost forcing him to answer. "Y-yeah I like...I like the way you're teasing me."

You slip his length back down as far he could go in your throat, swallowing around him.

Hearing him like that only spurred you on more. Sucking his cock a little harder than before. Your head bobbing up and down faster. Your other hand moves to cup his balls, and he jerks at the feeling. The sensation of you massaging his balls and your mouth working on his cock practically sends him into a coma of bliss. His abs flexing and his toes curl. His entire body glistened with sweat. "Shit i-im gonna fuck... I'm gonna cum."

"You're gonna make me cum." He panted above you.

With a few more pumps of your hand and mouth sucking harder on his length. You feel his cock twitch and he's shooting his cum deep down your throat. Some spilling out and leaked from the corners of your mouth. He moans out loud and holds your head down until he's finished. You tried to swallow as much of him as you could take. Your mouth not leaving until you're collecting every bit. " S-sweetheart, please."

You let him go with a long string of saliva connecting you to his cock, his cum dripping down your chin. You collect it on your fingertips, bringing it to your mouth, not wanting to waste a drop. Sucking your fingers clean enjoying the salty taste of his cum.

He goes limp as he comes down from his high. His eyes glossed over watching your every move as you lick his cum from your fingers.

You moved to lay back next to him as you wait to see if he will soon leave. His chest rose and fell calmly now, but his head was still foggy. You don't want him to go, but you understand if he does.

"Thank you for tonight" you turn to smile weakly at him.

"No problem." He snorted.

There is a long, drawn-out pause, and you decided it time to tell him your secret.

"Um, I have something to confess to you." You're nervous, and he can tell.

He sit up straight and looks over at you, concern etched on his face. "Yeah? "

"Well, umm, I was the one who called you that night.....on your show." You confessed, looking down, playing with your thumbs.

He blinked, taking in what you just said. Not really sure if he heard you right or if he's still a little dazed.

"Are-- are you serious? " He sounded a little harsh, but he didn't intend to. That night was all he could think about since it happened. You were all he could think about. He lost hours and hours of sleep coming up with different possible scenarios on how he would find you. Who you could possibly be.

"Yeah. Are you mad?" You look over at him, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

His face softens immediately when he notices. "Are you kidding?"

"I've been thinking about you ever since." He sprang up on his knees with excitement scooting closer to you.

You wipe at your eyes and laugh when he takes your hands into his. The fear that was building up moments ago slowly fading away."Really?"

"Oh, you're definitely not getting rid of me now." He exclaimed.

"So, do you maybe want to go out again?" You shyly asked.

"Fuck yeah I do!" He celebrated clapping his his hands together.

You laughed at his excitement. Making you feel so much better now that you got that off your chest. No one has ever made you feel like this before. You felt like you've known him forever even though you just met in person. "Can I call you... like all the time?"

"Yes, absolutely you can." You giggle.

"Hope you don't mind late night ramblings and bad puns," He advised.

"I love bad puns."

He laid back down next, throwing an arm around you. The both of you stayed like that for the rest of the night. Staying up for hours laughing and telling each other stories about your life. You wish you and him didn't have to ever leave this bed.

Another couple of days have passed, and you really haven't heard much again from him since your date. You were starting to think he was just saying all of that stuff because he thought it was something you wanted to hear. You tried not to think like that and just chalked it up to him being extremely busy because he was.

He did talk about you a little bit on his show but never mentioned you were also the mystery caller everyone has been gossiping about. You listened in biting at your nails when he talked about going on a date with a cutie from the coffee shop across from campus.

Eddie never once talked about hooking up with you, and you're grateful for that. He didn't use your date as a way to have another story for his show. He genuinely wanted to take you out and have a nice time. He didn't hook up for a new story to keep his segment interesting. Most of the girls he was with actually asked him to talk about it. Otherwise, he never would have done it to begin with.

You sat on your bed feet dangling over the side, contemplating if you should just bite the bullet and call first. You don't wanna seem desperate, but you also really want to see him again. He agreed to go on another date with you. Since you haven't heard much else from him, you don't want to come off pushy.

Maybe you should call first? Let him know you're equally as interested in him.

You snatch up the phone and the little piece of paper he gave with his number on it. Putting in the digits and waiting for the dial tone to start ringing. You felt like you were waiting forever, but it's only been a few seconds. You were almost ready to hang up and pretend this never happened until you heard him answer.

"H-hello?" He panted into the phone.

He sounded like he was currently in the middle of something. What that something is you don't know yet.

"Hi, it's me....just wanted to call and check in with you." You spoke softly in the other end.

"Y-yeah, uhh, I'm doing good." He stumbled over his words.

He sounded out of breath, and now you're really hoping you didn't interrupt him. Especially if he has company at his place. The thought of that makes you feel a little sick. You're not dating him and barely even know him. You shouldn't feel this way even if he did have someone over. "I can let you go. You seem a little busy."

"Wait, don't hang up!" He exclaimed.

He ponders for a moment on how he can keep you on the other line.

"Wanna help me...with... something? " he asked with a nervous laugh.

You swallow hard before answering. "What do you need?"

You hear him curse under his breath in your ear. Low grunts can be heard, and it doesn't take long before you can figure out what's going on.

"W--wanna talk to you while I fuck this toy." He breathed heavy.

You go to lay back on your bed playing with the hem of your pajama shorts. You know what he wants you to do. Since he helped you out, you might as well do the same for him. It's only fair, right? The last time you did this, hundreds of people were listening. This time, it's just the two of you. Making the situation more intimate, but it also helps take the edge off.

Eddie was currently balls deep in his fleshlight when you called. He just got out of the shower hair still wet and sticking to his body. All day long, he kept thinking about you. He's been painfully hard and wanted to see if he could come over to your place again but didn't want to be so forward. He didn't want you to think he was using you to get off. He really really liked you and hoped there could be something more between the two of you. So he was going to do what he normally would and take of it himself. That was until you called him, and it sparked a little idea in his brain.

He was leaning back against a wall with one hand on a chair next to him, trying to keep his balance upright. Lube was all over his toy, leaking out onto the soft curls between his legs and balls. He glided the toy up and down his length at a steady pace trying not to cum so soon already. His mind races with vivid thoughts of you.

"What do you think about when you do that?" Your voice coming out so small in his ear.

He smiles to himself. "Well I--was thinking about you."

"Like, what exactly?" You played innocent.

Eddie knows what game you're playing, and he has no problem going along with it. He pulls his cock almost all the way out of the toy only to slam it back down hard causing him to groan loud. His legs almost giving out from under him. He pulled out the chair next to him and plopped down.

Biting his lip to stifle another moan.

"Thinkin' about you squeezing around me." He breathed heavily in your ear. "Wishing this was your pussy instead of some..F-fucking toy."

Sinking his cock back inside making a loud schlick noise you can faintly hear in the phone. Pumping his cock while his other hand runs along his abdomen. He's trying to balance the phone between his shoulder and cheek praying he doesnt drop it. His face and chest flushed a crimson red. He lets out a loud moan when he thrusts upward. "Ooh! Shit!"

"Did I feel good?" You purred into the phone.

"God yes--- so fucking tight. the way you hugged my fingers when i was knuckle deep inside you."

You squeeze your thighs together involuntarily, and you can feel a wetness pool in between your legs. You bite down on your lip hard listening as he fucks himself while talking about you. You want to touch yourself so badly. Your nipples hardening under the sheer thin material of your tank top.

Pumping his cock faster in the toy, lube splashing all over his pelvis and wrist dripping down onto the of floor. He's making a total mess and he doesn't care. He thinks about how messy he could make you.

You interrupt him from his thoughts

"What do you wanna do to me?" You whisper.

"Fuuuck, I wanna do the nastiest things to you." His voice ragged.

Moving the toy up and down his cock as he spoke in the phone, trying to keep It balanced as best he could.

He lets out whimper, "Wanna fill you up with my cum and clean it out of you with my tongue."

"W-wanna..fuuuck...wanna cum all over those pretty tits." He's panting and grunting louder in your ear.

....."Yeah?" You cooed.

"Make you cum in all sorts of ways you never even imagined you could."

He legs kick up, and his stomach tightens. He was getting close but didn't want this to end, not yet.

You're still lying in bed, looking up at your ceiling. You never thought you'd have this burst of confidence yet again, but it's different with him. You don't feel ashamed of anything. The way he's coming undone just by talking to you only made you never want to stop. You felt empowered.

There is a throbbing ache between your legs that you desperately want to take care of. You try to ignore it and put all of your focus on him. You wiggle around clenching up. Doing anything to ease that ache.

"Tell me what you think about you when you touch yourself." He breathed.

"You think of me?"

"Yeah," you muttered quietly.

"So tell me." He commanded gently.

You stammered. "I um, I think about what you would feel like inside me."

"Oh yeah?" His voice getting low.

Goosebumps prickle all over your skin when he does that voice. You squirm in your bed just thinking about that night he used it when he helped you cum over the phone. It was domineering and seductive.

"Mmhm, you're so big." You whimper.

"I don't think I could fit all of you."

"Fuuuck." He groans

"You wanna feel my cock struggling to stretch you open? Is that it?"

You whined into the phone. "Yes, I need it so bad Eddie."

His cock steadily plunging in out of his toy in a brutal pace. He's getting closer to his release, and the phone drops with a loud thud in your ear. His other hand moving to cup his balls mimicking how you massaged them. His hips thrusting up and all you can hear is the squelching sound his cock is making in the toy.

"Oooh shit!" He groaned louder. With a few more strokes and he's spilling his cum inside the toy. Still pumping his length, milking himself of every drop. His cum spilling out and coating his balls. He lays there in the chair, head falling back before realizing he dropped the phone. His head all foggy, and his vision is blury.

He went to get up, but his legs gave out, and he fell back down.

"Shit"

"Fuck"

You heard him cursing from afar. You laughed to yourself, knowing he probably had fallen down.

"Hang on!" He called out

He leans over and reaches out far to snatch up the phone off the floor. His breathing is ragged when he goes to talk. "I've never came that hard in my life."

Smacking a hand on his belly he changes the subject.

"Okay, so what were you originally calling me about? " He asked still panting in the phone.

"Umm, well, I wanted to see if you were still up for going out again....Maybe?" You closed your eyes, waiting for his response.

"Yeah, actually, you know my band is playing Wednesday. Why don't you come see us." He said matter of factly. Like you didn't just help him jerk off on the other line.

You don't understand how one minute he can say some of the most dirtiest things to you and the next be totally nonchalant. All you want to do now is hang up and take care of the ache between your legs.

"I'd love to!" You accept his offer excitement etched in your tone.

He lets out a laugh. "Great, it's a date."

Before you both go to hang up, he stops you.

..."Oh, and thank you for helping me this time." His tone sultry.

Your eyebrows shot up, and you gulp. "No problem--it was fun."

"Goodnight, Eddie." You said sweetly.

"Goodnight, sweetheart."

You both stay on the line, neither one wanting to be the first to hang up. Eventually, you had to hang up first since it seemed like he wasn't going to be the one to do it. You roll over on your side, trying to relax and ready yourself for sleep. Your mind racing with excitement that you're finally going to see him play.

Maybe after your date, Eddie can take you back to his place this time. The ache between your legs was not subsiding. You needed him, and after your date, you decided it was time to have him.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #my writing #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader smut #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie x y/n #90!eddie #shy!reader #college!eddie

[lunamugetsu]

Danny is an ao3 writer

Hear me out!

Y'know how there's a running joke that ao3 authors/writers will put in the author's notes that they're sorry that they took so long to update and their reason is because of either they got into a horrible accident/ life threatening health issue/serious personal issues/ their life went up in flames figuratively or literally, or somehow a combination of all of those scenarios. And they're all like "Well enjoy the chapter! tee-hee!" and everybody who's reading it all collectively go "are you okay?!" (aka the ao3 writers curse)

So I want to take this, and add Danny

Danny begins taking a liking to the classic literature that Mr. Lancer talks about during class and decides to writes a fanfic about it along those lines. It all starts for when he writes a Pride and Prejudice fic where Charlotte gets a better life where she's both happy and comfortable. And when he gets pretty supportive comments about it. He starts writing fics for other books as well (and it never stops)

During that time, who else but the Jane Austen fan, Jason Todd reads this fic. Yes he reads fanfic (do not ask him about his ao3 history), he yearns for more Jane Austen, but unfortunately she's not exactly able to write more books for him to read. So he turns to ao3 where there are some people who have incredible talent for writing pretty good regency era romance.

So what happens when he finds a couple of Pride and Prejudice stories written by " HalfDeadHalfAliveWriter

And when reading through the stories and looking at the author's notes.

All with very weird scenarios happening to the writer that he can't be sure that if it's a joke or if it's an actual thing he should be very worried about.

Author's notes such as:

Sorry it took so long for me to update this I was being shot at by my parents and ended up getting a burn on my hand and couldn't use my computer for awhile.

Sorry the chapter's so short, all the people in my town are being possessed by a hoard of angry ghosts because somebody had a bright idea to steal an artifact that belongs to an ancient civilization. So I had to get this out quick before they ruin my wifi connection

Sorry I haven't updated in awhile, I had to fight off a crazy guy that is obsessed with killing my father so he could marry my mother and become my new stepfather.

Sorry for the wait I got sent back to Ancient Egypt by my mentor to hunt down a runaway ghost that was messing with time.

But honestly the most recent author's note on a fic that hadn't been updated in week is what makes Jason really worried.

Sorry for not updating for a couple months guys, I was taken by a government agency that started vivisecting and torturing me. Thankfully my sister and friends busted me out and now I'm working on healing up. Anyway here's the Great Gatsby fic where Nick and Gatsby kiss.

After reading that author's note, Jason just sits there thinking only one thing.

What the fuck?

#dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc au #dpxdc #dp x batman #Jason just sitting there not really knowing how to react to these authors notes #I imagine that Danny is completely chaotic when writing author's notes but completely professional when writing his fics #Imagine the downfall of the GIW starts with Danny writing fanfiction #that's something he'll never let anyone forget

[capslocked]

PARITY

male reader x sana & miyeon

21k words

Within some reasonable tolerance, the two are carbon copies. Six of one, half a dozen of the other.

Doppelganger, twin, deadringer - they always tell you, they don’t see it.

But when they stand together it always comes across like two shadows stitched into one silhouette; the slope of their noses, their mouths; the way their hair cascades down past their shoulders.

You’ve learned to recognize the twitch at the corner of their lips before a laugh - how they speak in the same inflection and pitch and tempo, the same cadence coloring all their syllables. Even in their figures there is something uncannily familiar: that petite stature, that grace; they both have perfect posture, an ingrained elegance, like something handed down generation to generation. And of course - the height. The hair. The eyes. The same-damned-smirk.

Here's a hypothetical: if Sana's DNA, then Miyeon's RNA. They're both two separate ways of reading the same thing, and they both have it in them to transcribe the same hot load of proteins over all their pretty faces.

"Oh, that's like a sex joke," Miyeon says to Sana, frowning slightly, "right?"

"I don't know." Sana hums. "Protein... like sperm?"

You sigh, rub your thumb at your temple. This is why, normally, you wouldn't take ditzy to bed, but there's all this history between you and Sana that proves otherwise. The dirty truth is: you’ve been taking ditzy to bed for years. And Miyeon’s right there. She’s all bright eyes, blonde hair, tiny little waist, the perfect height to get two fingers in her cunt and the rest of her in your lap without you even needing to shift your arm into something more uncomfortable. God forbid.

She pulls back the curtain of silk-glossed-hair spilling over her cheek and tucks it neatly behind her ear. Okay, fine. So maybe you really do have a type.

"Yeah," Miyeon decides. "I think that's a good pun. Cute."

She glances sideways at Sana; something flashes between them, imperceptible. They've been doing this sorta thing for a long time - long before they ended up in their current living arrangement. This machine of synchronized, unvoiced communication.

"Cute," echoes Sana, delighted, and she lets her eyes flick back to yours. "Baby, are you, like, gonna give us lots of protein?"

"First of all, we’re fast approaching the point of diminishing returns on the whole protein spermaestria," you muse, wryly. Sana beams. "And again, the point I’m trying to make, Sana: you two are identical."

"Not in spirit," says Miyeon, automatically. "Or intellect. Or appearance, either."

"You can't just claim that," says Sana, matter of fact. "He means physically. I have bigger tits and a better ass.”

There's no argument from your end. And not only because the cab driver hits a speed bump or a pothole or perhaps a small child way too quickly that sends you all lurching together into the seatbelts.

Miyeon finds a good hold in the handle over the door - it saves her - and you wind up steadying Sana. For a split second, it's both their shoulders leaning on yours: Sana, then Miyeon, then Sana. Back and forth. Back and forth. The three of you still end up sprawled halfway out of the seats and onto each other in the cramped cab, tangled all together.

"Please, explain it then," implores Sana, hushed slightly. "Go ahead, I'm sure Miyeon's dying to hear it."

"Look, it's not a perfect one to one mapping," you say, running your hand through your hair and putting on your patient professor-in-front-of-the-class face. "For example: Miyeon's cuter-"

"Thank you," chirps Miyeon, sweetly sardonic, before you can even append anything else to the statement. Sana’s already there with a noise of mild protest.

"I mean, I'm a full inch and a half taller than you."

"So?"

"That’s an unfair advantage. You've gotta be the dumbest person I know."

"Funny," chides Miyeon, swiveling her gaze onto Sana. "You could barely talk when we were fucking your brains out on your birthday. He's dating you, not me, remember? If anything, you're the one sporting an unfair advantage."

"Okay, well," Sana counters, reasonably, "when you can barely get a sentence out from choking on my boyfriend's cock, who the hell is supposed to call it?"

You ignore that. Miyeon is having more difficulty; her face has flushed cherry red and her hand's white-knuckle-gripping the side of the cab's passenger door. 

"For what it’s worth," you cut in, placidly, "I don’t think there’s any clear answer."

"Nonsense," they both reply, simultaneously and satisfied - like wind up toys. And that's the way the conversation tends to go when you get them alone like this. Identical, you pause to think again after spilling out from the back of the car and onto the curb outside the girls’ apartment.

All the things they say are word-for-word - they walk the same, eat the same, smile the same, tilt their heads the same. In those moments where you don't speak, it feels like watching some two-headed monster, an entity constructed from equal parts of both. And it isn't just the physicality at play. They've got that eerie ability to read each other, speak for each other. It's strange: their habits, the way their eyebrows arch, the set of their shoulders. It all syncs right up, matches seamlessly.

It's really fucking uncanny.

"Um." Sana twists one slim wrist back and forth until the key turns in the lock. "So, is it, like, wrong of me that I kinda just wanna skip the dinner part of this and watch my roommate get wrecked in the middle of our living room?"

"Depends," you answer, before you can let yourself dwell too much.

“Just a complete and utter carpet dive,” Sana says, shouldering the door open and flipping on the lights. “It’d serve her right. She’s being annoying.”

Miyeon scoffs, sticks out a bare, pale leg - it ends in a nail polished fire engine red, the strap of a stiletto sandal - and blocks your way inside. "Hey," she protests, lightly. You are not the only object in the equation - you are merely an item to be held against them; it's not about you, not in its most abstract shape. Miyeon and Sana are competing - vaguely for your affection, but more so just for affection in general. It's an ego thing, if nothing else.

"I'm an angel. I'm precious."

"Get your pretty feet out of his face," warns Sana.

"Ugh," says Miyeon. And then, "so short-tempered when you're not getting away with everything."

"Whatever, princess." Sana gestures, airy and flippant. "In any case: fuck off, or go get fucked."

This has become some kind of weird custom, admittedly. Miyeon does exactly as her best friend requests. She floats down the hallway and toward her room.

"Can't get good service around here anymore anyway," is what she tosses over her shoulder. Her fingers run up the door frame to her room and hang there, briefly, before she glances sideways back. You and Sana, now giving her your deservedly undivided attention. There is no split focus, no point of overlap. Her hair falls loose past her shoulders; her shirt clings a little to the muscles of her arms, her ribs. The point of contact between her skirt and her upper thighs. Those impossibly big eyes. She's gorgeous. You rarely ever let yourself forget that. There's something devastating about the set of her face, about how her body is absolutely fucking perfect, all curving lines and smooth planes - tits that fit right in your palm, the dip of her stomach, the pretty shape of her ass - she’s tiny, and in a way, that means you can do anything to her and manage to get away with it. She’ll let you. She’ll ask you to do it all again. 

"You two are more than welcome to follow along, if you feel so inclined,” Miyeon adds before she opens the door to her room, steps through, and lets it shut behind her.

"Yeah." Sana runs her tongue over her top lip, staring you straight in the eye. Her smile is slightly predatory, all sharp teeth. "If you’re so inclined."

-

(For anyone wondering about things like premise or backstory, here’s a useful memory:

Sana has a new roommate. They've been living together for two, three months. She's still not over the fact you didn’t ask her to move in, and you're still not ready for it. Your answer hasn’t changed. You like your apartment the way it is; the two of you need space; it's what the kids call cohabital parity and no, the ring's not in your wallet and it's not even bought yet; stop nagging me. It'll happen when it happens. 

Anyway,

It's one of those plainly beautiful evenings in early July or August - a weekend probably: the living room is bathed in the sort of low, radiant sunset that can go on forever, all of summer stretched out, leisure and sunshine. Sana had talked her way into getting you to take her somewhere highbrow and a little out of your budget. She can talk her way into just about anything; that's her brand, her bad habit, her good fortune.

"We're not going to be able to get our tickets," you're explaining into the loud blare of a hair dryer. And to paraphrase, "what the fuck is the point of making reservations if we’re going to be so reprehensively late?"

Sana's juggling the curling iron while fumbling with an eyelash curler and applying mascara and rearranging earrings all at the same time, and you think about reminding her, again, that it doesn't matter what she looks like if you never actually, you know, leave - but then the hair dryer switches off.

“Hey.” Sana ignores the concern and swivels to ask which earrings match which necklace - two pairs are laid across the countertop; they look exactly the same; you love her, desperately, but for the record, you've never been any good at telling jewelry apart. Neither the knowledge-set nor the motivation; she looks fucking gorgeous in everything regardless-

The front door clicks then, and Miyeon bursts through with the force of an entire hurricane - and promptly stops, dead. You forget what the hell she said, but the story was: she'd just gotten back from the worst date in her life. She's in tears, sobbing. It's a mess. She's a mess. You can't leave.

She falls right into Sana's arms. Then Sana throws a pointed, triumphant grin your way, and says to Miyeon - and you remember this, word for word, verbatim - "Aw, baby. Don't worry. Let us take care of you. We'll make you forget all about him, okay?"

This is the long and short of it: Miyeon arrives, in tears. You never make it to dinner and a show. And the night ends more or less how it started - with Miyeon still pretty much crying, but only because you two won't stop. With your fingers, your mouths. Sana knows what her tongue's doing; Miyeon is loud - and responsive. She's gorgeous too. She's so into it. She needs someone who is genuinely in love with her, who isn't going to try and push her around. You slip your cock into her and that's pretty much it, a different kind of curtain call; Miyeon gets Sana's thumb rolling at her clit and, yeah - she's fucking gone. She cums on your cock like she’s dying, like you’re killing her. It's as simple as that.

Now, there are several instances of which this is the case, in chronological order:

a.) The first time, in Sana's bed.

b.) The second time is in the back of Miyeon's hatchback. Tight fit for three people. It's a do-not-recommend.

c.) The third time, when they want to try blindfolding Miyeon while she rides your cock in the living room. The girl can't see shit, you break some IKEA furniture you can’t pronounce the name of, and the condom comes off during the whole process. There’s this unsettling, world-rocking possibility in which you get Miyeon fucking legitimately pregnant via oopsie-daisy. So, you and Sana wind up spooned up with Miyeon between you two and discuss the eventuality, should it arise - what you will all do in the future, the consequences, what Miyeon and Sana will say to Miyeon's and Sana's families - what the fuck you'll tell the rest of your friends, let alone the press - and then, deciding together: hey, well maybe this is actually a really bad idea.

d.) The fourth, fifth, sixth and every time after that where you realize that you're just gonna roll it all back and pretend like this is completely normal. Two's company, three's kind of a fever dream - but this is the platonic ideal of groupthink. It works. It just does; you know how to fit the pieces together now. How to read her body language: the one-two-one rhythm, Sana and Miyeon and then Miyeon-and-Sana; where their hands are, where they're moving; Miyeon's choked little sobs and the breathless gasps when your cock is deep inside her; all the unintelligible murmurs passing between the two of them that you can't understand - but none of them ever really matter. The important thing is that she's put her two front teeth in your left collarbone while you fuck into her slow and deliberate, in a way she can really feel. You cover Sana's mouth with your palm, your fingers pressed against the pulsing heat in her pussy, and you make them both cum over and over until they’re eyes are screwed shut and they’re counting stars.

That's about it. That's all the things.)

-

"I call it being spoiled for choice," Sana says, pausing only momentarily to decide in the mirror of Miyeon's makeup vanity whether or not to take off the bracelet on her wrist. 

The glint that strikes off the metal is gold in the bedroom lights, all warm yellow and sparkling silver. Sana narrows her fingers, pulls it off, on - like you've caught her trying on clothes, the latest fashion in a store front window. A stylistic consideration. It matches the rings on her third and fourth fingers. She decides that it suits her. 

"Lo and behold," Sana continues, "we have a real situation on our hands. In your hands. Whatever, you get my drift."

"Your cock," adds Miyeon, smiling like sunshine. She’s tracing you over your pants with her thumb, and she’s got her doe-eyed grin on, the one that promises something sugar-sweet, kneeling between your thighs at the edge of her bed - the slightest dishevel of her hair, kiss-swollen lips. God, what a picture. Her pupils flare when her fingers reach the top button of your pants. "And what's worse? I'm going to die if I can't have at least, you know. A couple minutes alone with it."

"You'd figure out a way to die either way," Sana muses. She leans backwards in Miyeon's desk chair, tugging idly at the hem of her skirt.

They're not usually dressed alike, and that's the weirdest part - Sana's never had Miyeon's particular taste for the tiny gauche dresses and white converse shoes and glossy nails, not unless it’s some matching outfit that she's being bullied into. Today's no different: the soft fabric of Miyeon's slip of dress barely stretches down to the line of her thigh. The hem starts just below the boundary of innocuous and everything else. She’d been hiking it up all evening. And the straps lay so thin across her shoulders that one little tug in the wrong spot would probably send it skidding all the way down to the floor.

That's the main thing on your mind when you get one in between your fingers.

Miyeon simply shoulders the other, rolling it down to hang loose, leaving the dress hanging off the gentle slope of her chest.

"Pretty," you say out loud.

"I know," she says, holding the grin.

She can make the world smile, it's infectious - and your gaze follows the path: from the blonde-shiny hair spilling over a collarbone, to the peeking line of her bra, to the flutter of the bottom of her dress at her hip. You catch the subtle lace trim, the little patterns embroidered into the waist, and decide her body's a gift - and wrapping it is something divine, something meant to be ripped right to shreds. If no one else is willing to volunteer, then it'll fall on you. Sure, sure, sure. You can be thanked later.

"Lose it," you request, quietly.

"Mr. Impatient," is what Sana sniffs out, scoffing. She's lounged back on the other side of Miyeon's makeup counter. Her heel taps away at empty air, bouncing off the end of her foot, that hot little fucking rhythm she's had going since her partner in crime got in your lap and kissed you right down into oblivion. "You want to get her naked and get inside of her, huh?"

"Is that not why you dragged me here?" you counter.

"Oh, don't put this on me." Her expression slides right into the mischievous smirk you're familiar with. Miyeon’s often sporting the same one.

"He wants to bend you over, princess," she tells Miyeon, and you hear the wistful sigh through her parted lips come out like permission. "Not that I can say I'd blame him. When's the last time you've taken cock again?"

"With him last week." She throws the response to Sana. They look, more than anyone, to be in sync in their one-upmanship.

"Hmm," says Sana, and she’s looking right at you. "Check how tight that dress fits over her hips, don't you just want to tear it right off of her?"

"He's not doing that," says Miyeon, but there's the lilting tease in her voice that signals precisely the opposite. She wants it: wants it like sugar and soda, salt water taffy; wants to be stripped like skin, bared to the bone. Her knees spread, just a little. "Not yet, anyway. Right now," she adds, hand fluttering towards the inside of her thigh, supplying touches right over the lace, "I want to suck his cock."

"Such a slut," Sana teases, tilting her head.

"You'll get yours," Miyeon insists, before pulling your cock out of your boxers with a small smile, curling her fingers around it, leaning forward. "God, this thing." She has the head under the palm of her other hand, and a wet-tipped promise on her lower lip.

You thread your hand into the hair aside Miyeon's temple, gentle and what will seem in a moment: paradoxically-tender. 

"Imagine what it'll do to your mascara when I fuck your mouth."

Miyeon licks her lips. You reckon she’s completely aware how it comes across - the wicked fantasy she is.

"I'm imagining what it'll do to you when she chokes," Sana retorts. 

“When he fills up my throat,” Miyeon says, hungry.

Sana sighs, sounding utterly wistful, and she fixes the same unrepentant look on you. "Poor Miyeon is just starved for cum tonight. Aww," she remarks, sweetly, "The poor thing. Do me a favor won't you? Fuck my pretty little friend in the face."

"Well," is all you get out before you look up at Sana. "Yours too, honey."

"Hardly, the same," Miyeon cuts in primly, glancing sideways at Sana. There is some snobbishness implied; there are ways Sana and Miyeon have always found to subtly measure themselves against one another, to best each other - all of these ridiculous acts and anecdotes. Like their voices aren’t replicas of one another - and in constant disagreement over whoever is currently claiming to be the original.

Miyeon prissily tilts her jaw up. "Your ego might actually be the worst part about you, Sana. That and your tits."

"Guess he just loves all the worst parts," Sana quips, rolling her eyes, "and every time you call it into question I fall in love with him a little more."

She's got one foot up now on the seat of the chair and she's running her fingers, delicate and teasing, around the press of her panties. It's not a voyeuristic thing, she's told you, it's less about watching Miyeon get fucked than it is about knowing exactly what it looks like when she herself gets spread out beneath you. She watches you and Miyeon, she watches her best friend and you, and she touches herself and it's perfect. There's a few seconds, long and warm, before she lifts her fingers away, then sucks them into her mouth with a grin. Just the slightest taste.

"But seriously," she says to Miyeon. "If you're gonna do something - then do it. Don't be a tease. We both know the answer, anyway."

Miyeon swallows. You hear her. You watch her lips wrap around the head of your cock and pop off, wet and shining, and her head rests in the curve of your palm.

"I’m working on it," Miyeon allows, lowly - she pumps her fist again around you, careful with the motion; this little twisting tug. "Fuck, it's not even the fact that it's fucking huge, or. Like, it’s not because I’m dying to get stuffed by this, or because I’m sitting here thinking: oh my fuck, I’m gonna feel so full with this thing inside me."

You have her hand under her chin, thumb stroking gently against her cheek. Her eyes return to yours when you put a little more pressure in your grip. She’s fantastically pretty, and the gleam of lust and want in her irises has you probably too eager to play along. 

“So then, what could it possibly be?”

"It's-" Her cheeks darken pink beneath her blush, stumbling through a mouthful of ums and uhs as her eyes make tiny departures back to your waist until she finally gives up and just stares again.

Sana sits up a little in her chair.

"Look, this is the prettiest cock I've ever seen.” 

You and Sana almost snort in unison.

“I’m serious.” Miyeon rubs a semi-circle over the head with her thumb, glancing up at you beneath her mascara, and then to the base, back up. It jerks, almost like reflex, in her grasp; she huffs in delight. "It’s, like, perfect in every way. And, god, everytime- I’d just about do anything to feel it inside me."

“You’d beg?” Sana asks, eyebrow raised.

“I’m about to get down on my knees and grovel, honey.”

"Should've just said," Sana laughs - Miyeon chews her lip, half-exasperated, and drops a kiss to the tip that makes Sana's expression simper - "you’re halfway there. Want him to cum in that sweet mouth?"

"Want him to tell me what he's going to do," says Miyeon, frilly. "Every last detail."

Lips stretching open, fingers splaying, curling around the weight - she dips her head to rest her cheek on your thigh and kisses the underside of your shaft. She’s practically like liquid. Flowing and easy and gorgeous, always gorgeous, too far gone to form a full thought. That much is obvious. And why shouldn't it be - your hand's already snagged up, your thumb's already wiping the hair out of her eyes. She turns to let it sit against the edge of her cheekbone. "You really need an incentive? Want you to fill me up so I can-"

"Swallow," you supply, simply. “Swallow everything.”

"Yeah," Miyeon presses into the curve of your cock. She doesn't wink, not really; she doesn’t need to. "I like you. You always know exactly what to say."

Her hair brushes a feather-light caress up the skin of your thigh, mouth a vision of sin and pretty red lipstick. "Open," you command, quietly, and she follows your orders exactly - mouth dropping, head tilting, eyes drifting closed - her lips glisten with saliva and you could shove your cock into that mouth, easy. Just push in and wreck the inside of her - spit on her chin, feel her throat clench up as she gags and struggles around your cock. God, if that isn't a thought that can do a number on the base of your spine.

"Easy," Sana supplies, like she can read your mind. That wouldn’t really surprise you. “Leave some of her make-up for me.”

There's the quick hiss of an inhale, Miyeon's mouth stretching open. Her jaw going slack. You feel the long, wet suck of skin and spit, and her eyelids flutter as she settles in. She slides her tongue and adjusts, makes soft, raspy, throaty noises while her lips slide down the first few inches of your cock. It’s funny - Sana had made the same sound earlier in the day - and it's really not like it's an awful comparison. They both let on gorgeous little noises when they're sucking cock and it makes sense because it's the same cock. Same skin. Same person.

You're not, however, about to do something so pedestrian as compare notes. Not on them. Not in the fucking slightest.

And Sana, god - Sana doesn't just watch. She knows better. She's not even the one taking your cock in her mouth but there's the insistent presence of her: a fingertip diving down past the crotch of her skirt, a quiet moan, her wrist jolting in a repetition of short, sharp strokes, the kind she likes to use on herself: precise. Deliberate.

"Miyeon," you whisper. "God, just - it's your fucking mouth, you-"

The hand on her face strokes the side of her head - a push-pull. A chance to break off - she doesn't - so she ends up with a rougher grip tangling through her hair and you guiding her head further down the length of your shaft.

Miyeon loves the pressure on her throat. You know that. And, yeah, she fucking hates choking on it but somehow in her mind, they're different. Opposites. Because with the way she's going, a little cough will burst free in a few seconds time. That’s your signal, you’ve learned, that she'll let you slide yourself to the hilt. Just keep the wet tip lodged there until she starts gasping around it. It'd only take a minute.

Two tops.

And well, that's the compromise: your patience for a throat fuck is infinite. She's staring up at you with upturned brows and that pretty-please pout on her slick-wet lips. She's making her best effort but, christ. Fuck.

Her eyelids flicker once.

Then close.

"There," you breathe down to her, your knuckles finding her cheek, smoothing over the sharp curve of bone there. Your cock is slotted right in her hot little mouth and you're starting to feel like maybe you really did hang the moon and stars in the sky after all. Her lips press around you. Sink, up, down. "Such a good girl, sucking my cock, looking up at me- god, all dolled up, it's not even fair, Miyeon."

Miyeon can be many things, and presently among them: a filthy, obedient angel.

She pulls up. "I try," Miyeon breathes right at the tip. Her tongue darts out. She swirls, and swirls, until it’s back under the tip of your cock again, soft.

You're too predictable, or you're too forthcoming, or here’s the thing about a woman's intuition; Miyeon wants to tell you something more, she wants to let you know how fucking unbelievably hard you are in her hands right now; she wants to laugh at you for getting caught up and dumb but she's not letting your cock slide free. This suckle of her lips, right at the crest where you're most sensitive and leaking precum right into her mouth - this press and pull is as close to conversation as she can get. So what. You love it. She loves it: the reward is in the ricochet. You look at her and her cheeks hollow and the flash of her pink tongue gets wet and warm under your head, the slit of her mouth stretching to take every ‘totally fucking perfect’ inch of your cock.

And then her lips tighten and she just-

"Christ, Miyeon-" You whimper it right down to her, your voice lost in the shiver of her throat, all tight and wet around your cock. It's like your vocal cords have been stolen right along with the air in your lungs and everything feels floaty, warped and red and blanketing you with Miyeon's hard-worked rhythm:

The scissoring flick of her tongue as she strokes the base with a firm fist. The other hand resting on your hip, feeling your hips jerk. She wants this, the part where you let go and stop thinking. The part where she opens her throat, lets her saliva flood to pool against her palm, and wet the tip of your cockhead before letting it slide right back in her throat. Your shaft flexing into her heat, the sound of those gags.

She just-

She just goes on like that, sucking your cock while the flat of her palm skates a little tighter. Up, up, down - up-

"Miyeon," Sana says, now on her feet and shadowing in closer, leaning. And that's it. Sana knows too. She kneels down next to her, gets a finger under her chin, and delivers in a uniquely cold tone: "hands behind your back, sweetheart. I want him to cum in your gorgeous little mouth."

You nearly choke, ironically. You're already grabbing so much of her hair: all those smooth silky strands threaded through your fingers.

You thrust and pull. She gags. She fucking chokes.

Spit collects, rolls down the corners of her mouth and gathers on her chin. You can see the mascara threaten to run tracks along her pretty cheeks, the way the makeup smudges so dangerously close to her bottom lid. "Yeah?" you say, so softly, but you can't - can't seem to look anywhere else, or take anything back - so, what, her jaw's just gonna go on being that perfect little shape, and she's gonna be a brat for it. Okay. That works. She looks good choking. You can see the slick glint of her pink mouth stretching taut on your cock, your cock jerking and bobbing on the pad of her tongue; it's not real - no, this is completely real. The ball of your foot slips along the floor.

It's instinct. You can't help yourself; a groan spills out of you, half-sighed

Sana's whispering right in her ear; not that you can make anything out of it over the noises from her mouth, her fist all wet, pumping. The tick-tock bob of her hair. Sana's hand is on the back of her head and then - pushing the last inch down, and down, her nose buries right into your skin.

“Mnnph.” Miyeon, gurgling: your cock pressed all the way down the line.

"Fuck," you spit, holding her jaw in place. "Fuck, Miyeon-"

She looks up at you, her eyebrows cinched, the graceful lines in her picture-perfect-face pulling around you - blissed out. She stutters in place while you dump a hot load of cum into her mouth.

And she adds a cough as you pump everything directly onto her fucking tongue. It’s more than she anticipated, judging by the leak. How your cum rolls down from the corner of her mouth.

Sana drops a kiss onto her temple as she takes you in and out of her mouth again, until she presses her lips firm and hollows her cheeks. Miyeon's fingers caress your balls like there's some part of you that isn't giving her fucking everything already.

"Come on, princess," says Sana, kissing her way along Miyeon's neck, the tops of her shoulders. There is not an angle to Miyeon's elegant features that she could take that could possibly be anything short of priceless. "Show him how you swallow."

The image is obscene, for one thing. The utter filth in that satiated hum; there’s another. 

It's your white-hot cum dribbling past her swollen, fucked mouth. Miyeon swallows like the good girl she is - takes a breath, stares, and then finishes, a gulp, an extra breath, her whole face now a shade more flushed. Sana kisses her on the cheek and suddenly it's perfect: they're both staring right at you. Your throat has to unclench, reboot and the air in the room just tastes so good and your chest is heaving; you just- fuck, you can't breathe-

"Shit," you exhale. It comes out like a small explosion. "Uh-"

The side of Sana's mouth slants and then Miyeon grins: it's her cheek, dimple; that crescent moon thing and oh, this is the point. Sana slides a hand over the gentle curve of her stomach, then sets her open mouth over Miyeon's still-lips, slipping in close and - kissing. Their mouths melt together like it's the most practiced thing, tongues a second later, and Sana is stroking your cock in her fingers; the expectations clear in every little coaxing flick of her slim wrist.

"Do you have any idea," Sana sighs against her lips. The two of them, blinking up at you, like good little things - sweet enough. "How fucking wet you both have me?"

And Miyeon, shameless as she is disastrously pretty, reads right between the lines. "Where do you want it?" Her mouth tilts up to the side. A wicked smile. "He can cum all over us, no? And I have this skirt with an awfully short, pretty lace. We don't even have to take our clothes off, really, I can just-"

Sana gets an eyeful - Miyeon - before cutting her off, silencing with the wet press of her mouth, and suddenly their kiss goes frantic and quick. They're rolling apart: hands tearing up their clothes. Off. Off. Off.

Your cock stirs. It throbs. Fuck. Sana’s barely intelligible in the space between their tongues. "I could lay flat,” she’s saying, “with my legs open, and-"

"-with him on top of you, pressing inside you - so he could hold me down, and then pull all the way back out, to leave a thick load on your clit-"

"-and when he has to pull out-"

"-probably cum all over you too, the best view-"

"-or all over the rest of me, while I touch myself-"

"-maybe-"

"-and you just have to imagine how good that'll feel, while my thighs shake and we ride it out, you and I-"

Their faces - both flushed and dampened with the strain, both breathtaking. Their eyes are hooded, lashes a-flutter. They'd made their own decision, didn't even bother with yours. A mutual vote of two-to-one: you're going to fuck them in turns. You’re going to fuck them together. You're going to edge yourself in one cunt and fill the other. They're both going to take it, and wear it, and then use each other to make you cum again. Good. Okay, any questions - and they want it rough? 

The answer’s a two-part chorus. Yes.

-

Not even an hour later, Miyeon is playing, of all fucking things, Candy Crush, legs draped lazily across Sana's lap, both of them kicked back on the couch, dressed again like the best girls you've ever seen. "The amount of money they make on this app-" Miyeon complains, waving a lazy hand. A long strand of blonde brushes against the corner of her mouth before she swipes it away again with an irritated sigh. She's just sitting there, knees folded, blithely bitching about a game of match three on her phone. "And they send these fucking blocks just to mess with me," - another swipe. Her hair sticks against the fresh gloss coating her lips. "It's literally just a waste of human-fucking-potential."

"It's a game for children," you offer.

"Then why is it marketed at adults, hm?" She's absolutely serious. "Sana plays it too."

"Mhmm," Sana agrees, not really agreeing at all. Her eyes are closed; you're sitting next to her, and she's taken up your leg as a makeshift pillow, lying down with her arm resting on her forehead, so casually disinterested in anything other than the quiet thrumming of your presence by her side.

It's insane that they're like this: like they're not constantly checking their phones for texts, like you don't all have lives. You're almost - dare you think - having a semi-regular conversation. Now If for a moment you could ignore how they both look like the human embodiment of sin-

"Miyeonie," Sana says.

"Sana," Miyeon returns, flat.

There's not even a movie playing on the living room TV - just the netflix menu; it's volume is at a sort of white noise. A subtle buzz clicks on in the air conditioner.

"You know how you're supposed to go out with that guy next weekend."

"You mean the date you set me up with." Miyeon pauses, tongue caught between her teeth. "Where I have to put on a pretty little dress. And smile. And laugh at all his jokes."

"You know the one."

Miyeon jumps on Sana's train of thought. "You want me to send you some pictures when it's over."

Sana turns it over in her head a few times. “Maybe,” she says, finally.

A genuine exchange perhaps. No fighting, no bullshit, no riptide of pure unbridled sexual frustration.

"Or," Sana adds, simply, "you skip the part where you sabotage the small talk and come back to our apartment." She blinks. "End up getting us both."

“You’re suggesting I’ve been ruining dates on purpose?” Miyeon, incredulous, runs her fingers through the hair at the top of her head, gentle, almost like an admission of guilt. "You're out of your mind. Why would I do that?"

The fragile peace never does last long. Sana looks at you again. Holds onto the eye roll. "Why, indeed."

"I don't follow," Miyeon says; something, a tic, a tell, causes the muscle in her brow to stutter.

"She's suggesting that you'd rather be in bed between us than on a date with some guy whose face we've only seen once," you cut in. Sana looks over. "It's come up a few times."

"Okay, so what?" Miyeon takes a breath. Her mouth a rictus twist. "You're trying to get me to admit it out loud? That I like to get fucked by my gorgeous bestfriend and her pinterest-board-of-a-boyfriend more than I'd like going to a mediocre concert downtown with some dipshit who just wants to see if I'll stick out this 'goddess' routine for a month or two and then bounce for someone else. Wow. Sherlock and Watson, coming through for the killshot. Take me straight to jail."

"We never got around to those cuffs," is what you make mention of. It's not particularly helpful.

"Don't pretend," Sana says instead, "you don’t like to play both sides. Or that the trad-wife fantasy of yours is somehow subtle."

“There's nothing shameful about knowing exactly who you are, or wanting something," Miyeon insists. She tilts her head towards the two of you. A different angle. Her words come out sharp and hot: "some of us have the decency to let our friends know exactly what they want."

“Okay.” You laugh out loud, half out of nervous habit. "Well obviously there’s some sort of rhythm here - I’m just not dumb enough to think I can put a finger on the pulse."

"Then this is, what, some sort of elaborate plot for my heart?" Miyeon's chuckling to herself, but in the space of a blink her voice is more tender. Her arms folding in close. "Is that the plan, finally catching me-"

"Next week." Sana sits up. "There's a trip coming up, something kind of international." She picks at the hem of her sweater, and looks at you.

“What the hell, exactly” - you card your hand through Sana’s hair - “does ‘kind of’ international entail?”

"Ms. Prada has a modeling campaign to attend," Miyeon intones. "She also needs someone to take care of the jetlag, is what I assume this is about."

Sana waves her hand in the air. "I'm saying we book you an extra ticket. Rent a room at a nice hotel. No work. No phones. Just us three, and the best sex you've ever had."

“I wasn’t even aware I was going to that,” you say - almost as an aside.

“You weren’t.” Sana leans more of herself into you. "You are now."

"Is this how you're going to woo me? The grand design?" Miyeon's hands are fiddling in her lap. Sana’s pressing in. Closer. "All the sex and leisure I could ever ask for?"

“It sounds ridiculous when you say out loud,” Sana answers, curling into her. “But, yeah, that’s pretty much it.”

Miyeon laughs like it’s a lost cause. Genuine, throaty - like music.

“Simplicity doesn’t have to be a bad thing, Miyeon.” Sana kisses her, slow. Quietly, "you could even pack a swimsuit," and there's this beat, the rise and fall of Miyeon's breathing that might lead anywhere: "though I doubt we touch the beach at all."

“You’re pulling on all my heartstrings, Sana.”

And there you are - etching your names onto the calendar. Reservations and bookings and promises of everything and anything and exactly where you all want to be.

It's Miyeon that finally admits, "you know part of me can’t resist the idea."

"Then, this weekend." Sana's fingertips trace circles on your hip, the tensing pull of muscle. You're aching and exhausted and content: drifting in the tide, a catch of the day, some soft, dreamy wave of consciousness, nothing specific, just the moment passing through all three of you.

But you do get it. There's this obvious snag in your heartbeat, too.

Because Sana is grinning; her fingertips, tapping. Your stomach's fluttering too. A little ghostly clutch of hope in your chest and it's such an embarrassing notion. You're getting swept away - pulled under - and it's Miyeon, splaying out beside Sana, her hand reaching out to you with her palm turned up. It's a promise, and the force of her can - and has - moved mountains.

"I pick the hotel," Miyeon's voice is deeply firm and sure. She’s got a fistful of Sana’s pajamas. "You two can sort out the lingerie."

Sana's mouth curves a perfect grin. She's kissing her again: wet. Heavy. It's not a no, if she was ever expecting one.

-

So that's your reality: what used to be two dalliances - separate but not distinct - now share one headspace, and there's enough rapport just in the group chat alone. You've all been messaging back-and-forth for weeks; Miyeon playing the game where she's the steady one in your life, the knot you're going to tie down when you can finally afford it (and in every way she can imagine). You find it entertaining. Sana seems mildly amused. And Miyeon will call you on the phone, sometimes. A chat-off. About nothing and everything. What you should bring on the trip. Where she's going to eat dinner before you meet her at the airport. Et cetera. Et cetera.

// Miyeon 1:21 AM > hey. I'm all finished packing. how's the bedroom looking?

// 1:26 AM > absolutely wrecked. no survivors

// Sana 1:27 AM > It’s fine. We stripped the sheets, got the box from the closet. Have the video you wanted as well. Call the laundry service in the morning and get the floor washed too. You know. So, nothing comes out of the security deposit.

// Miyeon 1:29 AM > a threesome that destroyed an apartment? say it isn't so

// Sana 1:34 AM > didn't hear you complain during.

// 1:38 AM > strict instructions, right?

And then sometimes, during those conversations, Miyeon will send an aside just for you:

// Miyeon 1:40 AM > strict? please. do whatever. I'm like so good at following instructions

That's Miyeon. The paradox of being submissive - you never, ever treat her gently. She never really wants you to. Sana's mid-reach over your chest to turn off the lights when she glances down at Miyeon's text, then promptly scoffs. The two of them don't always have the most conventional dialogue.

"She's one hundred percent serious by the way." Sana rolls on her side, away, but the nightlight beside the bed just manages to illuminate the slope of her ass - curved in the silk nightie she'd thrown on before bed. You want to crawl between the fabric.

"I never really doubted that. She's got a very specific... demeanor.”

“You’ve noticed.”

“Um,” you say. Sana’s turned over her shoulder to blink at you. “Kind of a dark streak. Like something in her is craving-"

"To be broken to pieces? Oh, it's fucking bliss for her when she's vulnerable and the tension cracks." 

“I was going to phrase it a little more indirectly than that, but yes, I suppose that’s the gist of it.”

Sana shrugs. 

"The girl lives to be chased is what it is.

It's just Sana and her perfect legs and smooth, creamy thighs right there, ready for you to touch, ready for you to fall apart over. They brush your calf, your thigh - so you are kind of distracted. 

“And she feels most wanted when she's choking, getting used, right at the point she can't decide if another inch is gonna kill her or drive her up the wall. No air in her lungs, nothing under her own control." Sana flops, presses against your side, one leg tossed on top, arms curled around your neck. "Pretty obvious, all things considered."

"Sounds a bit familiar, no?" you tease, and reach back to draw her against the front of your body. 

She curves, twists into your embrace. Her hair is half up, half down - wide eyed like a fantasy made manifest. You're always gonna give in, even when Sana doesn't deserve it. 

"You get me. It’s the best. Please, go nuts with the idea."

“Huh, birds of a feather.”

“Sure, whatever,” Sana brushes a kiss against your cheek, presses back into your hips to feel your hard length strain between your boxers and her ass, softening only because, god, she's a real human fucking treasure, "so maybe Miyeon and I have a certain… similar temperment to us, maybe that's true."

"Yeah," you breathe. Your arms wrap around her, the heat in her core now evident from the outside. "That's what I've been saying."

Sana doesn't respond to that, not directly; her palms drag, smooth, over your fingers. "Fuck me to sleep," she suggests instead. "We've got an early flight."

And so you do. You'd pulled your cock from your shorts the second she pressed her ass into your waist and claimed her place as your other half, the little spoon. There's a few beats, a few breaths, where you'd rocked against her clumsily, lining yourself up, and she'd braced the two of you:

She'd arched her back, got an arm over her head to tangle a hand into your hair and keep you right where you were - your lips against her neck. Until it's just this soft-rhythm, all easy thrusts; one arm underneath her, the other around her hip, finding and spreading and - easily - gliding into her cunt.

Sana sighs a lovely sound right next to your ear: your name, some hushed curse. Her hand is wrenched back into whatever group of muscles she can find. And you listen to the gorgeous little tritone of oh shit, oh god, oh fuck when you make her cum. The displays of indulgent affection in her throat, then the ruddy mess of you working her to a wreck of pleasured exhaustion until she collapses into a hot-faced, sleepy daze. All cozy between the sheets, the duvet - you’d fucked her from the outside in; made her relieved and relaxed, all loose and calm. Sana curls into you with her moans still staining the cool side of her pillow and the snugness of her cunt wrapped around your cock.

You drift off just like that, snug inside her. Sana is, as always, impossibly warm.

-

On your phone, there are some choice text messages:

// Miyeon 2:18 AM > jesus

// Miyeon 2:18 AM > can you guys like please

// Miyeon 2:18 AM > PLEASE

// Miyeon 2:18 AM > fuck any quieter

Okay, so it's not perfect. But you're about ninety-percent sure Miyeon had used every fiber of her willpower not to float across the hall and take her spot between the both of you. And it's probably for the best. You feel pretty rough when the alarm starts blaring as it is.

-

The room Miyeon picks out isn’t exactly small, nor was she minding the purse strings. There's a wide expanse of living area, a massive bed in the back; the ensuite and bath beyond that has a walk-in shower large enough for all three of you and room left over. On the walls is gentrification-colored paint, a gray laminate flooring to match; there is not one speck of dust. It feels every bit the palace it is on the outside - the gables and mansard roofs and the Juliette balconies - gothic, or neoclassical. Something vaguely European, with all its rich furnishings and pristine fixtures to boot.

Sana and Miyeon step into the space with all the familiarity of royalty.

"Warm in here," says Sana, appraising; her black chiffon, nearly translucent, fans about her hips with each tiny sway. In her white pumps, she's already a perfect tease and she hasn't even touched herself yet. "Smells good, though."

Miyeon's heels echo behind her like gunshots against the floor, and it's really not ever fair the way a skirt wears her. "The listing said something about a hospitality kit, and essential oils - there should be a basket of things. Do you want me to start the water?"

"Let's settle in a little first," Sana suggests, and without any fanfare, the first thing she does is draw the gauzy curtain closed.

There's an itinerary; it's an ongoing event. Technically it all started in the airport terminal when Sana slung her arm around Miyeon's waist and her hand went straight down to her ass. She just gave it a little squeeze. In the moment, nothing terribly remarkable, but then again, Miyeon didn't tell her not to. They walked through security like that and picked out drinks together from a terminal cafe before doing a circuit, fingers linked. The way Sana looks at her now - Miyeon sees - is how she's always looked at her. That is maybe, the whole point.

"Come here."

Sana's tone is smooth as silk, her mouth an inviting pucker, gloss-dewy and delicious. The bow is even tied at the back: Sana's collar is fitted snug. It sits tight at the base of her neck with the silvery cord loose across her shoulder, knotted down near the apex of her spine. It's simple, classic. All soft fabric and no frill, with an absence that invites eyes and wandering fingertips: she hasn't worn a bra. No strap lines. Her body has the sweetest outline and the warmest curves and god, the skin she's not showing is as good as what she is.

"So," you say out loud. It hits you: there's no cameras, no urgency. No obligations. "We came all the way here just so Sana could have sex, huh."

It's really always about the two of them.

"Good sex," Sana corrects. The table next to her catches the flat of her palm as she settles herself against the surface, one leg crossing in front. The slit in her dress rises in the movement: enough of a hint at the soft thigh underneath. You see her do this every once in a while and her body doesn't lie; this is an implicit act of seduction. But when she looks back up, her smile goes shy and her voice follows suit: "I promised our princess that we'd spoil her a little."

You say, "she's right there," at the same time Sana adds- "which is kind of impossible when she's still wearing her clothes."

Miyeon makes a big, showy production of crossing her arms in a huff. You could do anything; flip a switch; knock her flat against the wall, and Sana would hold her down with a hand at her throat and a kiss her like fire and gasoline on her tongue and no one would have a single word to say to complain.

You could have. Would have. But Miyeon finds her fingertips on the ridge of her clavicle, the barest swipe. She pulls at the top button of her shirt and the seam unlatches: a single reveal, a gradual, fluid movement in the dip and fall of a one inch gap. Just enough skin to make you and Sana swallow.

"Oh?" Miyeon grins. She stares at you with that coy smirk, biting her lip; an invitation for a kiss. For a fuck. You cross the gap, with every intention of making good on it; only, Sana slips in behind her - stops her midway in undoing the next button - and places a hand on the nape of Miyeon's neck, cool.

"She really can be a brat, can't she."

"Only because she gets rewarded for it," you admit, and as soon as Sana touches her, Miyeon is looking up with that same face she gives you when she gets on her knees, ready to be just your little pet, your desperate, whimpering thing.

Sana leans into her ear: "maybe because she knows she can't stop thinking about you bending her over, every chance she gets. Isn’t that right, pretty girl?"

They've always been like this, you think. Growing up with money and cars and ski vacations in the Alps: that sort of thing. It's been a long, slow, build-up and this was always the payoff. It is, without a doubt, just the slightest taste of luxury. Sana pushes, and Miyeon turns up to her mouth with a slow, dangerous whisper. "Isn't it kinder to say it as it is, instead of dancing around it for weeks-"

"For months," corrects Sana, and then sliding into a far more generous tone, "mouths, fingers- or his cock?"

"Maybe," Miyeon lifts her chin like she's readying to kiss, "all three."

Her voice drips - purses her lips, and you're there again: at that fateful exchange. Everything about Miyeon has the power to sink its claws deep. Those heels on her dainty little feet, the stockings climbing along her thighs. Everything.

"Miyeon." That comes out harsher than you'd have thought.

"What can I say? I'm not a patient person." She's got that wild, starry-eyed look to her. You could tame her. You could dominate her - your throat is so dry. The room has the faint scent of citrus, like lemon rind and verbena - a kind of lightheadedness settling over you all. "So, why don't you..." She's blushing, holding her arm up as she skims a finger down this slow path along your torso, finally hooking it into the top of your pants. And now, it's very, very clear she isn't wearing a bra either. "Make things a bit easier."

There's an entire lexicon of everything you'd like to do, so it's best, maybe, that you settle for: "Sana, be a doll."

"Anything," she says; she doesn't hesitate. You like the easy give.

And it's kind of amazing. All three of you together and, sure, the way her fingertips tighten, sliding under the curve of Miyeon's chin and then pulling the linen shirt down from the backs of her shoulders - this is a choice you can all agree on. One that pulls on the elastic band hugging the cut of Miyeon's waist, makes the material drag and ride up the front of her legs. Her belly. Sana has the gift of being able to kiss so perfectly on the back of someone's neck that you could easily forget she can get a little mean, too.

"What is it, baby." Sana asks; a challenge, not a question. "Come on, love. You know it's true. Why don't you let me show him how sweetly you moan with just a pair of fingers in your cunt."

"Please do."

"You're practically wet just saying it. You want it that much." Her voice goes thin, then deep again: a stark contrast. "Show him the mess you've made."

Miyeon's hand is in all the way in your pants; you feel hot. Like the room's air conditioning should've kicked on a lifetime ago - you're trying not to think too much on the way her slender fingers start to wrap themselves around the shape of your cock and your mouth falls open, because she can just - fuck - do that-

They turn to each other like mirror images over the slope of Miyeon’s shoulder, exchanging some secretive wordlessness in the privacy of their smiles and soft, muted laughter. Miyeon's on the toes of those pretty pumps to lean in, closer, further, and Sana lets her.

Which is exactly how it happens: Miyeon kissing you. And she really kisses you, sweet, delicate - and somehow all-consuming. It sets off this chain reaction, a wildfire of unbridled desire: that thread in Sana that can be almost violent, and one that Miyeon always manages to bring to the surface of her skin. Because now Miyeon's gripped and pinned, and Sana, bless her, pulls the fabric of her own dress up over her head until she's naked alongside her. Working towards a common goal. Here's two hands. Here's two more. They're helping you out of your shirt. It's pretty easy from there. You're all unraveling together, just falling apart - Sana and you, working in tandem to unclasp the pearl snap buttons trailing up and down the sides of Miyeon's sinfully short skirt, peeling back the cotton. Miyeon holds the swell of your cock tight in one hand, pumping, while Sana rakes her nails over Miyeon's breasts; both girls taking off the final scraps until every article of clothing is tossed to the floor.

And Miyeon here is simply unbelievable. Your hands are all over her. Her razor-fine waist, her thighs. Her lips. Those soft tits, and that cute mole above her nipple. Because even her imperfections deserve the same lavish attention.

You kiss her, and kiss her, and you can't help thinking how filthy it feels. This wet mouth and tongue, everything you could want in the slide of her mouth - just, messy-perfect and a bit sloppy; how her whimpers leak out in soft, a tight inhale. You cup the side of her jaw as your hips grind into her and a low, uneven sound escapes you. Sana's small fingers wrap her ribs to grip a breast, knead the supple curve and supply her thumb to the indent. It's really, so soft, and warm, and then wet: your precum dribbling over her knuckles, rolling down. Miyeon has her head tilted to let her jaw lean into your palm - she smiles, and laughs like it's nothing - like you're not there, towering over her lithe little frame. Like the head of your cock isn't brushing into her bottom rib under all the twists and jerks of her wrist.

"Your cock is so hard," Miyeon threads into a sigh, in that throaty, almost melodic voice. And then she laughs because she knows exactly what it’ll fucking do to her. "And fucking heavy. I thought I was going to get a real good look earlier in the airport," she confesses.

"Let me guess." Sana presses a kiss to her temple from behind; a lull in the scene. You fuck yourself gently into the curl of her fist. "You've been thinking about it this whole time. About getting him inside you. With that naughty little mind of yours running at a million miles an hour. God, that must've been such a tease, getting stuck with just the thought while we sat through lunch, and the flight-"

"Don’t forget right now-" Miyeon presses in. Her breath is hot against your neck. "While we're talking."

"Princess," Sana says into her ear, and it makes her tip her head - until she’s revealing the pale skin of her neck. God, yeah; maybe she really is nobility. "I'd be hard-pressed to leave you wanting. Your body's all wound up for us."

"She's fucking soaked," you confirm, like you aren't pointing out the most obvious thing in the room.

Miyeon bites her lip; you're gripping your shaft, urging her wrist to go faster. "This is the part where you turn me inside-out, no?" Miyeon is a walking fucking cliche and she knows it, smiling all slyly with her teeth. She says it so damn casually: "so why isn’t my pussy getting any attention, really. I wonder, I wonder-"

"Trust me, neither of us are interested in teasing," Sana assures her. "We're going to fuck you until you can't remember your own name. And then we'll fuck you some more."

You push down hard on her collarbone, and in that same instant Sana drops her free hand below and runs the flats of her fingertips along the plane of Miyeon’s tummy - until Miyeon tilts her hips - everything else still, almost lazy. Her feet leave the floor and then come back down again. The momentum of the fall ends up being enough to jostle the three of you towards the nearest wall where Sana's back is kissing the cold drywall. And you're already there - pressed into both: Miyeon's palms flat against your chest as you haul her thighs around your waist.

Hoisted, lifted, cradled between you and your girlfriend - who by the way is inching two fingertips under the top of a lacy-banded thong, slipping beneath the white trim, to finally (oh, god) pull her hand away and slip it into Miyeon's parted mouth. "Look at you." A hum in her chest. "The most beautiful, perfect-"

(You push your cock into her, and hand to god, you swear Miyeon's voice breaks like a bottle over pavement.)

"And all for us- your slutty little pussy is already so wet- Miyeonie, we've barely even started.”

Just think. The code word system you've been employing for months - "We were actually thinking... if you're not doing anything else... what's the harm in the two of us getting more familiar with you." - has proved exceptionally reliable in getting Miyeon out of her clothes and into your lap, but here's where it all vanishes into thin air. Sana's mouth is hovering over Miyeon's shoulder; her body, caught between the two of you. And she's trading in on the implied permission to tell you more directly:

"She needs to cum all over that cock, babe. Fuck her pussy until she’s creaming, won't you."

"Right." You groan in tacit approval, hands holding firm onto the firm swell of her hips - that round little ass, the dimples you can feel the dip of, just under your thumbs. She's already thrown her arms up around the back of your neck when your cock slips inside her, to tug you in; this wordless begging: need, need, need.

It's not even a totally new sensation. Nor is it even the first you've ever been inside her, but god - Miyeon takes one deep breath, and on the second inhale, you sink another thick inch of your cock into her slippery slit: she's completely, gloriously bare, just this slick heat that only opens more and more and more. You draw back, thrust in, and there's this sopping sound, all wet press, into the soft muscle - you don't even remember pulling her panties to the side. But they're bunched into the crease of her thigh and that's rather convenient.

Her breath hitches as she slots down onto your shaft, again - in rhythm - like a total dream. "Fuck, that's so tight," she grates, her voice rough and gutted; something like, 'I cannot believe you feel this good.'

-and they groan in unison when you pick up speed. All of it. Together.

Because it's not just Miyeon's perfect cunt wrapping you up tight, squeezing and pulsing, even better on the backstroke - but it's the way Sana is catching your lips in the space over Miyeon’s shoulder. That you three can play each other with the promise that every last moan or gasp or the single, resounding thrill of pleasure will find a perfect partner: one for your mouth and one for Sana's fingers at Miyeon's collar bone, a tickle along her hip, pressing an insistent fingertip around and around in small circles, dipping into the give.

Her body's shaking so much through every push and pull. Fuck. She's so small - and you're the one filling her. Fucking her. Breaking her. Pressing two girls into the wall like you've earned the right. You're splitting Miyeon apart so that Sana can fill the spaces you leave empty and vice versa: and she's so, so desperate, the little noises she's making, "Please," like it hurts. "Fuck," like it's the best feeling. "Keep going, please, fuck- don't stop."

"See, baby? It feels better when you just give up, doesn't it?" Sana's got her fingers down further between Miyeon's thighs; you can see her swipe upwards. Hear the wet sound. She says, "there," into her ear. "Nice and slow, while he fucks that cunt, and I rub you like this, we want to keep making you feel good. So take what you need, hm. I don't hear you-"

"Oh my god," Miyeon moans. And she means it - feels herself dripping all over you. "I need it. I need it, I-"

"Come on, darling," Sana chuckles, soft and low in her ear.

"N-need," Miyeon chokes.

And what kind of idiot wouldn't take their palm off her breast, or undig their fingers from the round of her ass for even a second. It's having her in the palm of your hand. With one foot dangling against your thigh and the other tangled up above you, the stretch in Miyeon's body is entirely for the convenience of letting you fuck her to pieces.

"There it is," Sana is murmuring into your mouth again, and that’s a reward of its own, her wet, full kiss at the junction between Miyeon’s neck and shoulder as her thumb digs deeper into the curve of the girl’s thigh. You listen to Miyeon moan your own name, uttered like it was written by god and meant to form on her lips as it tumbles down through the ragged mess of pants and gasps.

“Fuck, baby-” You press harder. “Your pussy feels incredible- how you suck me right up like you're the good girl you love to pretend you are- like a perfect toy," you breathe, "-all nice and hot. Licking, swallowing around my cock, getting dicked out for my enjoyment-"

"Yeah, yes," she pants out, the total capitulation. "It feels so fucking good."

You feel the mindless, blissful roll. A rhythm in the give of her thighs as you slide home again and again. There's a clink from the bracelets on her wrists; her hair falling into her eyes; there's the sheer ecstasy written all over her pretty face when Sana reaches one hand to start drawing slow circles on her clit. 

"You're just fucking me so god-damn-good." She’s breathless; you’re taking everything from her. The poise, the finesse, the dignity.

"Of course we are," Sana supplies, and it's fitting. You're both holding her up. You'll be the ones tearing her down.

Miyeon's arms tighten around the back of your head, arching, squeezing, and there's that feeling that always accompanies Miyeon: like she's completely melting you to her core and turning your brains into fucking mush. Everything from her tight little pussy to her breathtakingly pretty eyes to the way her spine flexes to meet the pitch of her voice - it's fucking ridiculous, that she's even real in the first place - let alone that your cock is buried so deep in her cunt you think you can hear her sob. Or that all five-foot-two of her is making these tiny desperate noises as you use the width of her hips to bounce her harder onto your cock. 

Sana's long fingers slip and press - they're not touching anything except the swell of her pussy, just this ghostly brush of a light, almost chaste graze. It's enough: a touch like that, and fuck, another-

Miyeon cries out.

“I'm going to cum-"

"Say it again," Sana's whispering, "tell us what you need," and in a sort of coup-de-grace-style-of-climax, she bites at the skin over the top of Miyeon's jaw and slips a fingertip right onto her aching clit. Presses down. "You're such a fucking slut, Miyeon, such a gorgeous cocksleeve-"

"I-"

She's actually whimpering, the poor thing. Eyes squeezed shut, toes clenching; everything is trembling, tense with release. You’re fucking her into a puddle of a person, and she’s holding her lip between her teeth like it might do a goddamn thing. It makes sense; the tightness, and wet and heat is what she knows.

"Go on," Sana answers her, and it's like her words slice the voice in Miyeon’s throat to shreds, "cum all over his cock. So. Fucking. Good, baby," a hard push through every syllable as her teeth snag into the shell of her ear. She rides the boundary of degradation and downright debasement because she knows that’s how Miyeon will absolutely cum for her. For you, for both of you. "Do what you're fucking made for, and just take it, pretty, lovely, you can’t live a second without having his fat cock and my fingers in you, can you? You look like a filthy little angel like this, I swear."

You’re both on the same page, telling her over and over - shh, shh, you take that cock so well, feel that cock fuck you apart, baby, and all you have to do is cum - only, you’re paying homage to the title: you call her princess. Sana takes the opposite approach. Tells her, "you want everyone to know, don't you, what a goddamn fucking slut you are. You filthy, dirty little thing-"

It works. They both work, and so does everything else.

Your blood has gone totally hot. Like molten lava. Boiling over and about to spill.

The last thing Miyeon says: "Oh god - I'll be good, I'll do anything, I'll be your slut - Sana - anything-"

And it's one of the best lines to ever leave her mouth.

"-for this beautiful cock and these fucking perfect fingers, shit - fuck! Right there, right there, right-fucking-there-"

You fuck deeper, harder. The orgasm ripping through her muscles lets you leave marks and bruises you’ll be coming back to all weekend. Miyeon's face falls against the crook of your neck, mouth pressed there - you can feel every gasping inhale, the open-mouthed warmth of her body. It's you that whispers a shudder, half-voweled - "Miyeon," and she’s already there, so ready - it's kind of crazy how everything about this girl works so intricately and precise, like her very design was to take you to the hilt and melt all over your cock, because Miyeon's response comes as a mind-blanking:

"You can," a muffled whine in her throat. "Do it. Cum inside me. I want to-"

Sana’s eyes flare like she can feel that cable snapping, too. How your mind is all white noise. The torque of blood rushing through your head. You're thrusting deep into her well-fucked cunt with all the strength you can muster, your hips stuttering in the follow-through. When you catch the smile in her lips - the curl in her lips like she knows you’re about to spill everything, like the perfect siren’s call- you hear Sana over her shoulder: "fuck her. Use her. I think she wants to feel it in her fucking stomach - you know, the whole reason we’re here-"

You cum inside her - there’s no question - filling her tight hole up. Shit. You actually cum all over her too.

In fact, you manage to drag yourself all the way out from Miyeon, the wet quivers and hot aftershocks, all so Sana can get a good visual of how you’re fucking ruining her: the loose rope of white that streaks up her tummy, splaying out beneath her breasts. The absolute debauchery; it’s even more pornographic when your fist pumps another splatter of cum right onto the swollen lips of her pussy. Miyeon moaning on impact.

Sana supplies her own soft gasp, scraping the air past her teeth, tension hanging in the silence - and then you bury the rest of your load back inside her cunt.

And here's a feeling that's going to stick with you for a while. Beyond the fireworks in your pulse - the shake-ripple that leaves you with nothing, no muscles, no brain matter - you slide your cock through her cunt again, and again - just to feel how your cum pushes back out. And she's watching, she’s letting you watch: how messy she's become. Her tits. Her sweat-dewed thighs. How every second seems to bring its own unique ache. 

Really, you’re left only with a near mental blank. “God, Miyeon-”

You have just the barest capacity to consider the way Miyeon's trembling frame clings hard - pulling her ass cheeks down flush against your hips - your thick cock completely seated, stuffing her fucking cunt as she goes weak and submissive. You hold her there, suspended as your orgasm softens inside her and Sana hums along your lips, the soft coos spilling into Miyeon's ear: "what a messy, nasty girl. Princess needs to be full and leaking everywhere, doesn't she. How many creampies do you think you're going to ask for?” Sana laughs. “How many will ever be enough? I hope he gave you something worth begging for."

It's not really surprising how a feeling can hook its teeth into you when you're cumming like that. Subjugating the deepest reach of her sopping cunt to fulfill your own filthy fantasy. 

And look: Miyeon is soaked - soaked and wrecked and pliant. You kiss her and kiss her, and Sana kisses you, kisses her too, all of it muddled up - and your mouths are a mess. Your hands go into her hair, onto her ass; there's cum down her thighs and all over the floor. The smell of you three: her slicked arousal and your sweat and Sana's expensive perfume. 

Here, come come - Sana is a flurry of activity; she's helping Miyeon out of her second heel after you'd fucked the first one off her foot without bothering to get the strap unhooked. There's her careful proclamation of, "thank god the walls aren't paper," as you practically carry Miyeon to the edge of the sofa, this dreamy vision of messy hair and a royally-befit-blush. In the whole world, not once has Miyeon looked like anything less than nobility.

And now's no different, really.

You sink down onto the plush, tufted fabric - a chair whose shape might confuse you if Sana hadn’t told you earlier it was explicitly built for fucking, or whatever it is you're doing. She's smiling at you, settling her face right onto your shoulder and peering up.

"Sana," she says wistfully, but looks right at you. "My legs are still a noodly-mess. Could you turn on the jets in the tub?"

"And leave the two of you unsupervised?" She jokes. "Never."

Miyeon sticks out her lip. Pouts, almost: "it'd just be a second."

"She's only asking for a minute," you add in.

Sana rolls her eyes. "And since you've suddenly turned into two hopeless idiots, it can't be trusted. If I'm drawing a bath," a flick of the gaze, "the least you can do is join me. A chance to recover if nothing else."

Miyeon, being Miyeon, has already dropped her face down to your lap, curling up with your cock at her lips. When she gets her first, tantalizing, almost chaste little swipe at the tip, she smiles all impressed with herself. With those big brown eyes, her fingertips skating delicately along your stomach, and her dark lashes beating slow - all of Miyeon, right now, is on purpose, calculated. Precise. 

Her voice is even worse: "she wants her own go first, don't you think?"

Sana watches where your fingers thread into the ends of Miyeon's silky hair, just the gentlest twist and tug. How you have her mouth ready and open, waiting; how Miyeon glances over for approval.

"Well," Sana turns a cheek, "he's already so worked up." Her dark eyes look towards you - a mock frown. "I don't know if we can convince him otherwise."

Miyeon's throat clicks - she's not choking yet, but left to her own devices, she will be. Her expression melts into an almost-gasp as your cock fills the empty space in her mouth. There's that plush little gag as she opens, lips wet. You rock your hips, and then you get to watch her nose kiss the trail leading up the smooth plane of your belly.

"I could go for a soak," you admit, with Miyeon drooling on your cock.

Because Sana's doing that thing where she turns around, has the smug look over her shoulder. Makes a slow, teasing movement that leads your eyes from her pretty face all the way down the cut of her back, until finally she's pushing the soft waves of her hair into one hand so that her ass is perfectly presented-

And jesus, sure: the sloping hips, the inviting lines - the sharp points and soft edges, where she is and isn't; her cupped fingers come up to her own chest, just to show off the heft of her tits, hanging heavy. Everything is sensually posed. You're only a little bit mesmerized. Her figure has always had the cut of a pinup model. Curves like a siren. Her waist to hip ratio is - oh-fucking-kay, maybe you could do it right now - bend her in half - get her fucking sobbing until you kiss her quiet and cum so deep in her cunt it's all she can think about for days-

You realize then you're pulling too hard on Miyeon’s hair.

Not meaning to, or maybe too eager.

Hey, you have a pretty girl sucking life back into your cock and one more giving you bedroom eyes from across the room all ready to sit on it; you never said you weren't trying your best.

"Careful, honey. I'm getting impatient." Sana's hand traces the wallpaper trim in the hall, a sweeping path; a vague reminder as she disappears down and around the corner. You hear the squeak of the faucet and then the sound of her light footsteps. And then it's just an echoey and unapologetic, "one day I might not let you have all the fun," followed by, "my goodness-"

Sana, appraising her reflection in all likelihood. All bright smiles

You turn back to find a second set of eyes staring back, full of hunger, as a wet, messy heat wraps around the base of your shaft and follows to the top with the flutter of her tongue - and then all the way to the back of that tempting throat. Miyeon's moving at the tempo you'd put her at. You appreciate that. But you lift her jaw and hold the side of her face so she's looking straight at you - and as soon as you pop yourself out from between her lips, you say, "you'll let me taste Sana, too, won't you, baby?"

(Miyeon's never been good at saying no - to anything. That doesn't change here in the slightest.)

The way you laugh is easy and sweet. You kiss the space over her temple. "We've always been in this together, Miyeon," a soft tease. "Go ask her nicely, and I bet she lets you clean me up," before adding, "maybe, after you lick all the cum out of my girlfriend's tight ass."

And Miyeon simply grins. The promise of that sloppy fucking mess. She's ruined herself time and time again over far less.

"Oh," she says, "you know how good I look with cum dripping down my chin.”

It's kind of impressive how shameless she can be. So fucking blase - what are friends for, anyway.

“Shall we?"

You scoop Miyeon right up into your arms and, upon standing, swing her little body around in front of you. And she knows that's the sort of thing she shouldn't enjoy: being manhandled, told what to do, having someone lift the choice off her shoulders like that - but that doesn't stop her from tangling herself up around your neck and tilting her hips back into you in that playful-fake, overly innocent-cute mien - where she says in this tiny whisper, "are we, you think?"

Your mouth lands on her ear, nips the softness there, "behave yourself, sweetheart."

And then a low, breathless laugh escapes her: "when's the last time that was even an option."

-

(For the record, the answer is never, and you're probably actually so fucked - it's kind of hilarious to look back at it, and think, because how could any two people who have spent as many weeks (months) as you, putting all the right pieces into the right places, get all the stars align at once? The idea that the three of you are hooking up and nobody's getting hurt, murdered or hung out to dry is statistically improbable; and the likelihood that anyone in this presidential suite will survive the weekend without breaking at least four limbs in various places is rapidly dropping with each passing hour. You've been taking the old adage and clutching it against your chest - 

It can't be a sin, if it makes you happy.)

-

Past the door, the first thing you notice is that Sana's hair is all pinned up. Always pretty like that.

However it doesn't change the picture a whole lot. A few inches more bare skin isn't exactly a big difference when there's the whole, naked, porcelain expanse that spans the soft length of her shoulders, along her hips and waist, and runs to her feet. It's still kind of incredible. The hourglass shaped silhouette. All the natural curves finding relief in the right places. Model-esque, that sort of thing. And, yes: her tits, the absolute heaven-sent frame of her ass and those amazing legs.

It goes without saying.

She's there with her back arched, an arm perched on the granite of the counter. So relaxed. An elegance only afforded to the very lucky or the very rich. She lets her head fall back, the fine curve of her chin canting above a neck that you would've been biting kisses into just moments ago if she hadn't put herself in full profile to take your breath away.

"Show off," Miyeon mumbles, and then whispers to you, "sorry. My body can't do that, like-" she indicates - with a weird wobbly hand gesture, about the height of Sana's pelvis. "Whatever that is."

Sana tilts her head forward and meets the glance you give her reflection.

"Hmm," is her eloquent contribution to the airy room, woven into the pitter-patter of bathwater, lapping at the surface. "Now why am I left to wonder why there's no one making good on my requests, huh."

You cross the space; get close. And Miyeon stays curled up against you, doesn't let you slip away as you walk over, doesn't let go. She kisses the front of your shoulder, hums softly.

"My bad," You say. It's very believable. You sound a bit winded; kind of a wreck, but your sincerity shines through in that sort of 'I'll fuck it better' kind of way.

"Excuses, excuses." A dismissive shrug. "The water's perfect. But if you insist," and the sultry drop of Sana's eyelashes is deliberate, an invitation. Her breath is caught as your mouth finds the space between her neck and shoulder blade - the place where she's gone all pink, "I'd hardly pass up the chance for you both to eat my pussy first."

And look: it's not a lie, per se, but the natural instinct for Miyeon-logic is just to provide the justification, "the faster we get you a cumming, squirming, desperate mess-" her hand slips to cup the junction of her jaw and the crook of her throat. "-the sooner it'll be 'til he fucks me senseless again."

"We have a long way to go to get even, sweetie," argues Sana. "Last time, you were both pretty self-absorbed."

"We'd never ignore you on purpose," you whisper into the crook of her neck, and Sana turns to let you follow that deep, velvety mouth as the kiss flows across her lips. "You're absolutely necessary."

"Only by accident, then. That's a little bit worse," snarks Sana. The reprimand dies down into something soft as Miyeon lets her tongue trail flat over a nipple. She shudders.

"If I keep going, maybe you can forgive us?" You watch her eyelids flutter open, a haze of ecstasy passing behind her eyes. You keep an arm at her hip, wrap around and press flat until her whole flat tummy is pinned against your cock.

"Mmm," Sana hums. It's that sultry note she likes to let trail from the very end of her throat. "Ask me again after you get me off. But slowly: I want to savor every detail."

Miyeon traces kisses across Sana's rib until your girlfriend presses two wet fingers to her mouth. Easy.

"Then you should probably do something about her," you say, and - as if in agreement - Sana twists her hand into the cascades of her Miyeon's hair. You lean into her shoulder. She sighs; exhales, deeply, while her back is shimmying further backwards into the countertop.

"And you should help her make it up to me," Sana chimes, her voice clear and melodic, every inflection playing right at home in her vocal cords. "Two mouths are better than one, and I have so many other places you should be kissing."

Sana has a verifiable gravitas, for one, and when she's not hiding in plain sight behind the bubbly-bright act she likes to put on, it's nearly impossible not to fall in line behind her. This isn't to say you couldn't win her over either; it's a pretty small crowd here. But you choose one direction and watch her skin pink up and turn to red; you grab a wrist and it goes cold and white. Every last part of her is so damn expressive. The point is that she doesn't need you to make a fool out of yourself to know you're into her - or vice versa.

(Or. You're such a goddamn sucker, as Miyeon likes to remind you with a scoff, a little eye-roll, and then her hands on your belt. At least, before everything else: the knowing smirk, the dangerous suggestion).

You let your fingers find the backs of Sana's thighs as she spreads her knees apart, and there, you're reminded of the one thing. That of all the ways these two girls are identical, you've never found a comparison that really works. Not by any useful measure.

Miyeon has all the softer features: a bit dainty, the doe eyes and the lone dimple, like a doll with an aw-so-cute factor, whereas Sana is all sharp, clean angles; the sculpted muscle in her calves and thighs, the firmness and muscle underneath - which, yeah, definitely not the worst trade off. Don't get it confused, both girls crave your approval; both prefer when things get rough and sloppy. Describing either as anything but the most submissive holy-shit-take-me-now-I-need-you type, when put under the slightest pressure is laughable.

Not when Miyeon lets you use her like a toy. Or when Sana tells you exactly what you need to do to fuck a baby into her (hypothetically speaking; she gets a little silly and dumb around the edges whenever she's about to cum and her brain starts tripping over her tongue). Neither will hesitate when given the option of having your hand on the side of their throat, pinning their wrists to the headboard or the shower wall, fucking them until they go liquid and collapse in your arms, shivering, whimpering and begging, their pussies pulsing around your cock. In fact, there's really no hard or fast rule at all. But here, you recognize, is a great point of difference -

"Baby," you murmur into the inside of Sana's thigh. You leave a mark with your lips that you’ll come back to. "So. Fucking. Gorgeous-" right as Miyeon starts pressing her mouth against her cunt. "Aren't you, baby? The most beautiful girl. And all of this is just mine?"

Listen - the praise kink your girl has is actually pretty textbook: Sana wants to be called sweet, she wants to be complimented, rewarded, and all that good stuff; she wants you to talk to her the way everyone who sees a flash of her skin or a sway of her hips wants to - the best parts of adulation, arousal, love, without any of the side-eye of it being totally obscured in a crowded venue.

Direct.

To the point. 

She wants to hear each and every you're sexy, you look hot, your ass drives me crazy. She wants it on the gruff in your voice, how it gets a little rough at the edges. Tell me you're mine. You make me so hard. This is just the very essence of who Sana is, and you have learned that you need to give as well as take: feed her a tiny ego boosting here and there, and she will completely throw herself at you in return.

Miyeon watches you run your tongue over her cunt like she’s taking notes, and it’s clear you’re more than prepared to give it all up to her. There's always been this veneration, this reverence for every inch of her, a pull towards her - her eyes, her mouth, her wrists, her long beautiful legs, the place where the skin of her thighs meets - you've always had this insane fascination with Sana, this need to know what she'd taste like or sound like. At any given moment.

"Oh," Sana pushes Miyeon closer, moaning. "Yours. So yours, baby."

The moment you both have your tongues working at her - tasting, the sweetness of her dripping down onto both of your faces, making you lick your lips and kiss each other so Sana gets to watch - Miyeon hums approvingly. Lets out this very performative, "isn't she just the best?"

And it isn’t that you can't find the right word - divine, wonderful, heaven, incredible, without any flaw - there just isn't much room to read into the fact that you and Miyeon are both sunk to your knees on the bathmat, kneeling in worship, in adoration - sucking on Sana's clit. The imagery sells itself.

"We'd never forget the important things," Miyeon continues, dreamily.

She's trading with you the folds of Sana's dripping pussy and the outline of her lips for her thigh. You pick up where she leaves off, and that earns you Sana's hand raking through the back of your hair, pressing you so close you can hear her heartbeat in her pulse; her blood burning through the very spot.

“That's how you make me feel, baby: so fucking good. Amazing." You taste it. You chase it. There is nothing like her cum filling your mouth. "Pretty. Mine. All mine."

“Yeah, okay - sure - that feels really fucking good.” 

Sana's orgasms always start slow; a slight adjustment of her hips, the rub of one calf against the other, she's never been the quiet type but there's not quite the screaming or yelling just yet. Her jaw is set.

"You're, uh-," she adds, failing at anything else.

Miyeon tries for it. That edge of danger; not in pain or frustration, but, "there you go, sweetie: you sound so fucking pretty when you're worked up. Just tell us - the words, we need the words to make it good, baby."

"Fine," says Sana, tilting her head down, breathing deeply, and she makes a sound that's neither a whimper nor a laugh, but a crossroads of both. "Right there, oh my god, you are so fucking dangerous, holy shit. Oh, please. Please. You two- just, please, don't you dare- just a little bit - mmm. Why do you have to be so good at that?"

"Right?" Miyeon laughs out loud - like you're the one missing a vital point, like it's your fault your face is buried in her folds. “I used to think guys just didn’t like doing it. And then, well-"

And you drag your tongue flat and up over her pussy, right through that whole slicked up slit, your fingers still pumping in and out, and then you flick it just hard enough to-

"-yeah," she huffs, panting.

Miyeon presses her thumb into the mess of Sana's cunt, and it causes Sana's whole body to shudder apart - you lift your face to breathe, or to promise, "we can go for hours if you want, taking turns making you cum," before pressing into her again, and Sana's only got so much patience and stamina when you're two steps ahead of the curve, because her legs are practically going to wobble off her body.

"Poor, pretty baby," Miyeon murmurs against her, and she's talking like she’s taken all the control now. Operating in that cycle of push and pull.

And to her point: Sana is whining, gasping - every bit as hot and bothered and needy. She's whispering please and not giving up her requests.

"Fuck. Okay, sorry-” she apologizes. For some reason.

Your nose keeps getting bumped, her cunt is grinding down into your chin. That is fine. If it keeps on like this, your whole face will be soaking wet.

"I'm going to just- going to go ahead and cum, I think- so fucking. Yeah, keep on going just like, shit, please: my pussy is fucking throbbing."

This is the easy part, if you've read the rest right. If the hours and the minutes, and all the passing days: you know which direction the pieces are about to fall.

Sana arches her spine, rolls her hips into your face, and when you swirl your tongue all over the wet heat at her core, the sound she makes is music: low, throaty and delicate. Your mouth is attached to her clit still when you look up over the hand you have steadying each tremble in her diaphragm. And possibly as a sort of vengeful maneuver, Miyeon is shoving two fingers under your jaw and far enough into Sana's pussy that each curl of a knuckle is all that’s left to find Sana cumming right onto your mouth, your chin. 

She wants to scream, to cry out, but her mouth joins her face, in that frozen expression of anguish, of an absolute that perfect pleasure.

"Shh, shh, it's okay," Miyeon consoles, standing up, leaning in - close, really, impossibly close; she presses their foreheads together, murmuring against Sana's ear, whispering what-do-you-need, there you go. Baby, that was perfect. They each know the song and dance. They can shamelessly recite each other's lines. Miyeon slides an arm to the small of Sana's back, one across her shoulders, and Sana leans against her with this gorgeous look of a perfect, mind-numbing orgasm on her face, her eyes bright, her lashes fluttering - a sheen of sweat across her forehead; your stomach falls and bottoms out; you can't not be fucking attracted to these two. Miyeon smooths down her hair, reassuring her. Her hand reaches lower, wraps around her, pulls.

The bath is well filled at this point, water near overflowing, and Sana is equally fucking soaked. This storm of wet and hot beneath your lips. You clean her off with the broad stroke of your tongue and don't spill a drop, because the noise she's making - it sounds like rapture, ecstasy. She's half-delirious, panting, with her hands gripping the sides of your head.

"Where," she gasps, trying her damnedest. You have the best girls in the world, you really fucking do. Miyeon rubs the heel of her palm against the soaked, red hood of her cunt. Sana lets out a sound halfway between a gasp and a groan; the arch of her hips chasing Miyeon's touch; "you, are you two - god damn, if I hadn't already-"

"Shhh. My poor girl. You're not thinking about his cock just yet," and those are Miyeon's slender fingers coaxing your jaw free from Sana's cunt, prying her free from you so she can sit alone at her throne. "They always keep lube in these kind of places," Miyeon reaches into a drawer, fumbling about. It takes a moment for it to register that she's actually talking to you. "It usually looks like some body oil, you know the nice massage kind, in these tiny bottles. Help me look, will you?"

It does not take long - hotel management understands what these rooms are for. The scandal and the romance and everything in between. Because Miyeon finds what she’s looking for in the next drawer down: a sample-sized container of massage oil, something slippery and organic. It smells vaguely of lavender.

"Look at me," Miyeon tells you, and Sana is absolutely listening along too. It's all very seamless: Sana and then Miyeon. All the synchronized parts. Their signals have some sort of feedback even if you're not always actively aware of the things they pass back and forth.

Miyeon guides Sana onto her shaky legs, turns her toward you - So you swallow, hard, and run your thumbs into the crease of her ass - you're kneeling, still, still totally naked and wet all around the jaw. "Eat her ass, and I'll keep her cumming until she can't feel anything else."

You shift your weight and run a kiss along the tender skin at the back of Sana’s thigh. The contact has her bracing a hand on the counter for support.

“And then-” Miyeon says, with a gleam in her eyes like she knows what the fuck she wants. She slides back down to the floor until Sana is pinned between a rock and a hard place. Her two favorite people in the world: namely, your hands gripping Sana's hips, and Miyeon's tongue all over the aching little clit you'd just had your mouth wrapped around moments ago.

"And then?" you provide, hovering a kiss onto the beautiful round of Sana's ass. Her fucking cheek. You have to slap it. Just a little. And when you watch it ripple back and forth with your handprint there, a spot of pink already blooming, well, she has to be giving you a sultry look that demands to know when it is exactly that you are going to stick your cock inside of her, and it is absolutely just impossible to look anywhere else.

"And then," Miyeon supplies, "we're going get that beautiful cock in her ass so you can fuck her brains to mush."

"Thanks I guess, for the explicit permission," you scoff, and here you drop your lips, trail them into the crack of Sana's ass, up and down, teasing the taut stretch of her hole with the tip of your tongue.

"Someone has to take responsibility for-," she pulls on Sana's leg and stretches it forward, repositions her ever so slightly. She sucks Sana's clit into her mouth with an exaggerated sort of satisfaction.

You wait for Miyeon to continue, and then realize with the unshakeable notion: she isn't going to, because it's too damn much trouble. There is no reason to pull apart the premise and not the girl straddled between your faces. The only option is to follow her lead, and to worship Sana. To trace every crevice of her, lick between her ass and the sensitive, clenching heat of her pussy.

"Can we, like, take a timeout-" Sana's mouth is slurring into the skin of her forearm. Her upper thighs are quaking, quivering as you sink your teeth in. Her head's gone all heavy as a slutty little moan rings out and straight down her lungs.

And maybe the realization is setting in. You and Miyeon are going to fuck her until you all can't think - until you're nothing but primal urges, nothing but bodies with beating, pounding hearts; and every thought in Sana's head will be to the two of you; to Miyeon, whose hand finds the front of Sana's stomach and guides her pelvis into rolling forward and grinding into her mouth, to you, with your tongue lathering and lapping at her asshole, and running your hands around her hips until her whole body's shaking, "oh fuck, my god-" 

(The writing is on the wall. You and Miyeon are going to fuck her until none of you know where you end, where the other begins.)

Sana tries again, and the question ends in a deep, rumbling, "don't you want, Miyeon, wouldn't you rather just really, fucking love, having his thick cock stretch you apart," - she swallows - and when she glances behind her back and finds you watching her, there is just pure, unadulterated arousal burning through her eyelashes, over the flare of her ass.

You catch the fucking bow of her lower lip wobbling as she adds, a little more pointed and a lot more determined, "when you're, fuck, begging and screaming for his load? To be his cumdump, his little bitch," it's like she's got her heart set, and her mouth can't stop moving fast enough, and "to do whatever he wants just because it makes you look and feel so damn hot?"

You can hear Miyeon's mouth smacking with the way it works, the way she is swallowing, gasping. You can hear the sound she makes when her mouth goes loose, and says, agreeing, "you're going to love it Sana, every god-damn-inch, you always do" and Sana is falling apart again into your grip, moaning, and then "it's so much better. All the stretch, that tightness. But she needs your fingers first.

You can hear Sana gasping too, dripping a mess into the place where her pussy and ass meet. Miyeon licks a wide strip from her core all the way up and kisses it. Lick. Kiss, lick - her hands pulling Sana closer by the hip - kiss, kiss, lick - pulling her mouth around your girl's clit. So close to the place in Sana's bubbly cheeks, where your mouth supplies long sucks and soft kisses - so close you can practically taste the scented flavor in Miyeon's lip gloss.

"I can't- shit. Hold on, guys," Sana whispers. It's her nails scraping against the granite. "You need to-" and then the loud, dull thwap of her knee knocking into the cabinet. 

She's cumming again - this time, loud and guttural, but another really beautiful sound - her cunt pulsing hard into nothing while the air hangs in limbo, Miyeon's tongue circling her clit, your palms around Sana's beautiful, round ass. You're half convinced they'd be fine with being locked away in some tower. Forget the world and its obligations. Or, rather: let the world stop spinning; leave only this.

There is not much talking from then on. 

Mostly whining, whimpers and pleas to: not stop, yes, there, yes, please, fuck, and Miyeon wraps her fingers around you - almost the same thing she did when you were pumping your cum into her quivering cunt earlier, asking, please, may I-?

Sana bends herself over the counter, like something instinctual. The perfect bend and arch in her spine, the bow of her knees and the press of her thighs. Inviting, pleading. You can feel the tingle, the stiff tension in the muscles, when you reach out and lift her ass; it gives so easily to your touch. Your palm, her cheeks. There's a beautiful flush as the pink starts to run, fade, and reappear along her back, and - fuck, okay, seriously-

Miyeon's there, kneeling next to you: stroking her fingers up your length. She’s kissing you too. It’s hard to think.

But the sound of the cap coming off the bottle comes like an alarm clock, pulling you out of a dream.

Miyeon sits on her heels, smiling into the press of your lips as the bottle she procured tips out. Clear, viscous and smooth into her palm. When it becomes a lot of dripping; she swirls it against your cock - her knuckles wrapped around you, running and twisting into every curve, sliding her whole grip with long, calculated strokes.

"I don't think she's in any condition to keep a tally," Miyeon announces, "so, why don't you decide?"

"Meaning?" you're panting; your brain keeps working to formulate complete thoughts.

"Meaning," she slips her tongue against yours, slides her teeth and draws into your lower lip, "you should totally pound her gorgeously tight little ass" - another kiss, mostly on your lower lip; almost a bite - "and then you should dump that massive load of yours" - a shudder rolls through her shoulder and leaves a whisper in her wake - "right inside mine."

There are about eight thousand words in the English language but what you say is, "fuck."

Because she's right: Sana is blathering the moment you stand up and let your hands reach around, grab hold of her full, rounded hips. She’s not in any state to protest or complain about matters of equality or correspondence. Her lips and tongue are barely even fit to say anything but yes-yes-please-anything, oh god.

Which, okay, whatever: of course, whatever the fuck she needs - whatever they need - you pull at her hips until it's there, your cock sandwiched between those full, warm ass-cheeks, the perfect amount of pressure to get you so fucking hot, and Sana's not shy about rolling her hips to keep you pressed to the surface, rocking into your balls until her cunt's making slick, wet, hungry noises and she's just one endless, groaning moan.

"Love feeling your cock," Sana mutters; and there is a, "please, fuck me, baby- please?" thrown in for good measure.

"Please do, you're like - you're like ridiculously gifted," Miyeon adds, always the right touch of caustic.

"-please."

Sana's eloquence is short lived, because the second you give her ass a squeeze and Miyeon presses her thumb against Sana's cunt, her voice catches on her throat.

She sounds perfectly winded, completely out of breath, a tiny, sexed-up growl running through the notes as she speaks to her reflection in the mirror. Miyeon laughs. She can hardly get her own shit together when you lean up and grab a breast in hand, or start leaving slow-but-steady bite marks along the back of her shoulder blades; like it's all-too funny when you pin Sana to the counter until she starts to beg in that please, please, please tone: when every syllable and gasp is hitched and short.

"She doesn't want gentle," Miyeon tuts, finding her place next to Sana, holding her chin in her hands and catching the expression on her face. She presses a thumb into Sana's mouth for no reason other than: they're so soft. Wet. Pink and full, parted around her fingertip. "Isn't that right, baby?"

Your gaze follows their hips, swaying. And from this angle: identical. The hair, the jawline, the arch of the throat and shoulders, the elegant twist and fold of their limbs, the eyes, the blush, the smile, and the legs. They don't have to look exactly the same: their presence is near identical - Miyeon's the cuter one, sure. It's been established, but fuck, the look on Sana's face as you spread her asshole with just a finger is fucking dangerous. You're going to lose your mind. Both the flat tummies and the beautiful breasts and their matching hard nipples - and the fucking two best asses the world has ever seen. A line up over the counter: Miyeon and Sana, side by side; their reflections looking at you in tandem, wearing these same expressions. The eyes begging, asking and insisting, the pouting lower-lip and the glassy sheen of their eyelashes.

You tell them: "how am I supposed to" - you run the thick-glistening head of your cock along the pucker of Sana’s tight ass, grind your hips into the friction - "focus when you two look at me like that?”

"Um, just give up," says Miyeon, grinning; and then, when your jaw snaps closed and there's the obvious shift of your hips as your length strains through your body's need and pulls you closer to that incredible, tight, dark hole: "god, there you go. That is so fucking hot."

So, it's just like this:

They watch each other. The mirror is right there; every want, every motion. 

And then, yeah, a low and throaty, "is that it?" - Sana nods into Miyeon's hand and smiles, with just the slightest hint of something that could resemble a blush - "why we always come back to him? Because, really-"

"Mmm." Sana hums agreement, dazed and drunk in her words, the slow breath of air you push out of her chest as your cock starts to sink in; the deeper the intrusion, the lower your names become - just murmurs and sighs and sounds: "god, yes, god-"

Her pussy starts to drip onto the tiles, her slick collecting at Miyeon's knees as Sana takes you all the way: and you hold, once you're all the way in; once that gorgeous little puckered rim has stretched around your entire width; there's just the smell of the room; lavender and rose and citrus - Sana's endless arousal - and you hold, and hold on tight - and your muscles shiver as Sana draws the first rocking motion of her hips.

The smallest, lightest grind.

"Jesus fucking christ," you curse, because the heat around your cock is excruciatingly tight. A slow-burning, tingling-aching pleasure as the flesh inside Sana's ass moves up and down the length, drawing out inch by inch of skin - until your entire cock is nearly pulled out.

You're the one that drives all the way back in.

Sana gasps. She runs her hand through her hair. She tries her damndest to remember what words are, clearly coming up empty.

"Baby." Miyeon is kissing her forehead, her nose, her lips, and coos praises in her ear. She sinks her fingers into the curve of Sana's immaculate ass, pulling on the soft cheek, showing-

You are speechless. It's just: that next stroke. And another. Your cock slipping in and out with each pass, so easy once Sana sighs, licks her lips and leans into your rhythm, there, all at once and then faster. And she looks in the mirror, because of course; of course she watches Miyeon run her hand all over her front, the perfect tits and a pretty stomach - your thrusting keeps up until every thrust has her hips rolling forward and snapping back, chasing her own momentum; chasing that thick, hard, stretch of cock and that beautiful pleasure-pain as the force and pace rocks her, pounds her so her entire body has to curl against Miyeon's chest for support, so that she's going a little weak in the knees.

"How is he?" Miyeon's tone gets wicked in these situations, a lot less innocent. She gets excited, giddy. "Pretty, handsome, stupidly attractive," her voice picks up a playful lilt, and she gets you grinning - it's only the start. "And he's all yours. But how's the cock, huh? He's gaping your ass so pretty. Your hole is so fucking open around him. It looks incredible, doesn't it?"

Sana reaches for the side of her ass, presses her fingertips to her skin: pulls and splits a fingernail into the tender flesh where her ass and thigh meet - right above her cunt. You snap your hips into hers and watch your cock disappear. Every motion gives, slurps and sucks until you're hilted inside her.

"Feels, mmmm - fuck." Her chest is fluttering, every part of her so fucking flushed, her blood running beneath the surface so every single inch of her skin is saturated with her own need, her want.

"Feels so good," you growl, your vision gone dark around the edges. Miyeon's there, vaguely, smirking into Sana's jaw, licking at the sweat, scraping her teeth along the skin to bite down, pull- "she's so fucking tight. Gripping the hell out of my cock. Like, it feels unbelievable, you know."

"Babe," she cries, though you give her no respite - you use that little sliver of slack and pull out far enough that she'll know it when your cock is hammering into her ass, a little more aggressive, and you start with quick, hard pumps that echo throughout the room - not for your pleasure or hers: just to hear it, listen, you're driving up so far into that perfect, gorgeous ass that it sends her tits rocking and rolling with every bounce of her chest; her moans, her babbling incoherence, are, again - it's like a drug - and Miyeon's smiling. And also, getting herself off.

"So pretty," Miyeon says into her temple, "with his cock fucking open your ass." And she has her fingers swirling, swirling, in little patterns around her cunt, grazing over a wet clit, like the way you're pounding Sana's ass and dismantling her whole consciousness is absolutely the most arousing thing ever, like Miyeon could stay and watch forever, like Sana's the most beautiful person in the world, and Miyeon would be right here with her every second - whispering praise in her ears - "god, babe, if I could, I would never pull his cock out. You take him so well, don't you? You're just made for it. He could stretch you out over and over and we could, you know - be fucked silly - no thinking - for, like, forever. All day long."

Sana's fingers claw, gripping at the bowl of the sink, while Miyeon has her hand glued to her clit, playing herself.

Miyeon doesn't wait - but she asks anyway - and of course: she's leaning up, in, nuzzling Sana and saying: "yes?"

"So," is all Sana gets out before gasping, because the sight, it's too much to not let yourself feel a little power drunk, and there is a sudden thrust that practically turns the poor girl's voice into a croak. "Yes. Fuck - fuck-"

You don't really have any clue where this is coming from but: "Miyeon, here, take this cock. Come get what's yours you fucking cocktease," and, whatever - who needs thoughts? Your girlfriend's already bent over the bathroom counter, your fingers holding the smooth curves of her ass apart, her beautiful body opened all up and pink.

Miyeon ruffles her hair as she finds the perfect angle, knees knocked up against the drawers, and she's got more oil spread onto her own puckered rim.

You know your girls: Sana is desperate for your cock, Miyeon lives to be used.

"I love how fucking cock-drunk she gets," Miyeon laughs, and then - the moment you've shifted from one gorgeous hole to the other - her mouth slackens, her eyelashes flutter: "shit. Holy - didn't really realize- oh wow."

"Kinda distracting?" you tease, knowing full well you're just going to lose your own words; watching a gorgeous ass swallow your cock; being told to keep giving and take, just as much: the warmth in your own core, your cunt, clenching hard - an aching pulse - the excitement coursing through your veins and this, this whole sensation of being connected: your bodies, all-encompassing and present, three whole units, joining at the hips, being forced back together-

"-you feel fucking, so tight. That's how the fucking joke goes, right?" Miyeon manages: to talk, still, even with a cock in her ass and your teeth and tongue painting pretty marks up the ridges of her spine.

Sana is catching her breath, brushing her fingers through her hair staring wistfully.

"Gives you two so much to talk about."

"Now don't even start- I really like it, alright."

Sana gives her ass the worst slap but your balls hit her cunt on the following thrust. Miyeon's so fucking tight you can barely breath. And her laughter tinkers off into a very pretty string of obscene moans from the way your cock spears into her, all at once: the flat, wet, throbbing sounds of a tight ass taking a thick cock without stopping, stretching and sliding with an increasing ease the longer it goes on for, until you're snapping your hips so far forward they're slapping Miyeon's ass and gripping, squeezing the round shape of her waist; until the movements are just you, the heavy weight of your balls against the hot wet skin between her legs.

And god damn it, she's got to start with:

"Forgot how much you stretch me, Jesus - baby, it is a really gorgeous cock you've got," - and that is when it hits, and her hands fist up, trying to grab at something, anything: "oh my god."

"You are such a whore," Sana laughs, but not unkind, because Miyeon can only grin in response, with your cock pounding out into the red-hot, clenched walls of her asshole. And then: a nice, hearty sigh.

You find yourself asking, almost by impulse, "isn't she, uh, tight. God."

And, fuck: you were thinking how insane it is you two ever managed without the third party. How now, not fucking Sana and Miyeon's glorious, matching asses side-by-side would drive you fucking crazy, and maybe that's why it's really the best news. How when your cock slips out of one ass, and slowly nuzzles into the other - how when you all three watch the pretty faces in the mirror twist and turn into a look of such pure fucking bliss - you just sort of-

"Oh."

That's Sana: with Miyeon pressed chest-first over the marble counter, Miyeon's cheek and nose flush against her face, their arms twisted, bodies crossed at the wrist and wrist - their skin shiny-red with exertion. They're the closest possible position: mirror images of the other, and - with the slightest push -

And it's pretty. It's fucking, you know.

"Perfect," you groan. "This is it. Look at you, the both of you - god - it's like. It's not normal to be as beautiful as the two of you are. Right. So, you know-"

"Hey," Sana is a little faster on the uptake when you're fucking Miyeon and her ass within an inch of dying, "your face. You look like you're close, are you close baby?"

The blood's starting to sing in your ears. Miyeon's forehead keeps bouncing into Sana's - their sweat, mixing, her skin peppered and blotchy pink from where she's gotten a little bit lost in her own head, her hips moving of their own accord, her body tensing, relaxing. You can read all of her movements, recognize her signals: the way she moans louder than usual, the way her cunt trembles against you, the way her ass squeezes, holds, lets go-

You pull out. Just to keep yourself from blowing, just to pull on your balls, to look and watch the perfect view. And Sana reaches back - a warm hand wrapped around you.

You feel her palm wrap around your cock, coaxing another serving of oil - like she knows just how rough it's going to be to start again.

"Just," she pants, leaning into Miyeon so you have to rut around to find your way back, "until the end."

There's something so pleasantly mind-numbing about the moment when you ease your cock into the sweet-soft ring of muscles again and she's just stretching and pulsing and grabbing all around you. The way you keep going: she's holding herself, giving her asshole a squeeze, a stretch - her lips kiss a sound onto the side of Miyeon's shoulder and she nods, gasps, breathes out heavy and pained, like the rest: a total fucking rush.

You watch Miyeon lean further, a beautiful shift of balance between the two. Her hands clamp around the sides of Sana's thighs for support, and the longer you pound into her, the deeper your cock sinks, the closer the pressure becomes as their heads turn in, looking to the same place, their foreheads knocking, and-

"Knees," you growl. You're holding your cock in your first - demanding: "Get on your fucking knees."

Sana smiles first. Then Miyeon. And when the lipstick smears against their cheeks, you don't have it in you anymore to think clearly. The line between your imagination and your fantasy is so blurred: you want their mouths moaning into eachother. You want Miyeon to clean the taste from Sana's lips. You want those cunts grinding, their clits making contact, and for one of them - fuck-

So: "I need the both of you."

And it's your name falling off of Sana's tongue when the tops of her shins hit the tile floor - she's kneeling, she's pulling Miyeon by her waist until the three of you have converged into this beautiful, glistening, open-mouthed trio. Sana kisses Miyeon hard while you cum all over the image: the contrast of their soft, wet, hot tongues against one another while your harsh grip pumps along your slick, throbbing length. It feels like a knot unraveling, a tension snapping loose, your cum landing on their cheekbones, their temples, between their lips - It's a long, slow roll through the valley of your abs - Miyeon licking into Sana's panting mouth and swiping through the streak of white you just pumped out into her fucking hair; the messy collision of lips, swallows, tongues; the faint, slow sounds, the slickness-

"Look," she breathes. You can hear the way their words hitch when their fingers hook eachother, guiding through the mess across their skin, dipping through the sticky cum, circling the plush pout of their bottom lips; and it's Sana that grabs Miyeon by the wrist, bringing her hand forward; sucking, running her mouth in a lazy path all across the width, "that's all, fuck, I need to. Wanna taste all of it."

You just groan.

Miyeon is slumped into the lacework of Sana's limbs, swapping the tastes between her tongue and the space of their breath; while her own thumb caresses the raw, stretched opening of her ass. Sana whispers things, incoherencies, into Miyeon's hair: kisses at her temple, strokes the muscles of Miyeon's back. Feeling how they shiver, they heave, they fall - exhausted and flushed in the heat of one-another's embrace. She licks the words across Miyeon's cheek and follows with her nose trailing Miyeon's jaw, and your cum's smearing a streak onto Miyeon's bottom lip, before their tongues have tangled themselves into another messy, well-fucked kind of collision.

"Good girls," you mumble, kissing Miyeon's knuckles, and helping Sana to her feet.

Your legs are a lot less shaky than either the two of theirs, but it's okay, you pick Miyeon up and set her on the sink; and then turn on the tap for the both of them, since they'd need a wash and some salve.

"Now, what?" says Sana. She's smiling; a washcloth at the ready; some dribble of soap from the bottle.

Miyeon gives her a smirk from over her shoulder, turning away just enough to flip her hair; the ends brush across her jaw. It's a cute little quirk of the eyebrow; the upward twinge to the corner of the lip; it's a motion that knows every muscle, every detail.

"Depends," says Miyeon, sharpening up her tone just the littlest bit, "the bath looks like a tight fit for all three of us but," and there it is - the mischievous glint; the curve in her hips, her mouth, and, of course - you notice the way her eyes drop to the stiffness of your cock. The way her voice purrs, all light, but a lot more intent: "Did you see the shower? It's absolutely gigantic."

"I saw the detachable head," Sana throws out. A teasing little comment, one you remember - that sends a pretty deep shudder down your stomach and thighs. Your cock twitches, hard and - okay, good thing Miyeon booked the room for a week and then some. The view is pretty great: watching your cock get rock-solid in under five seconds. Watching them kiss the same knowing look, sharing the private joke. Watching their hips swing, watching them slide the glass door: Miyeon in front and Sana from behind.

It's in unison that they both turn over their shoulder and ask, "won't you help us test it out?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be right there." You shake your head, "so thirsty," even though, you know you're equally to blame.

-

It's that tiny whisper of "don't look at me like you don't have cum in weird places either, hm?" that Sana gives you, while Miyeon is washing her hair, rubbing and sliding along the locks. "I'll help you with the spots that are hard to reach, come here."

It's that little, meaningful, mischievous curl in Miyeon's lip when the water's pouring, and your breath falls across her skin. The way her hands reach out for you, even when Sana takes her chin and plants a firm, messy kiss across her mouth. It's the same gesture Miyeon's making, using Sana's forearm for support. How she runs the palm of her other hand along the back of Sana's thighs, slipping and pressing forward to guide, nudge. She pulls Sana onto her toes, aligning their bodies. It's in the little laughs they share, the wet smacks of lips, the soft little hums they make when tongues slip over, into the open.

It's here too, that you first ever get them confused, just a momentary slip up of "Sana, could you grab the towel-" or some equivalent, when you glance away at the perfect wrong moment and you're left just a little puzzled, still mostly entranced by the sight of the steam on the glass and their fingertips drawing patterns into it as they lean in for another kiss, or a moan-

"Oh," Miyeon says, delighted, "I'm supposed to be her, right?"

They're fucking-

Sana is less enthused. "Stop. I do not. Am not."

- identical.

"Look, I didn't mean-"

Miyeon laughs to cut you off and skips the argument. She winks, and somehow that makes it worse.

It's there too, the look of regret when your fingertips curl into the skin of her breast, your thumbs a tease against the rigid nubs of her nipples and the texture of her pretty stomach. They don't realize how much you really love their matching expressions. So, they don't mind the mixup, and besides: you just follow Sana's guiding hands and let your lips ghost-kiss, so gently across Miyeon's thigh. It's impossible to imagine a version that isn't one and the other, the two of them, here, with you: sharing kisses, offering the gentlest, slowest exploration, teasing and tugging a gasp of a response.

"Hey," Miyeon muses, "does that mean you'll keep your cock warm in me once we go to bed and feed me a steady stream of ice cubes between all the sessions, mm?"

Sana raises her head in faux offense and drops back into the comfort of Miyeon's thighs. "Jeez-us christ," Sana huffs; "one day with him and she thinks she's me. Have mercy."

"She isn't?" you ask.

Sana sighs. "Um. Not even close."

Miyeon beams at the both of you. She even runs her fingers through Sana's hair, doting - affectionate. "She'll come around to the idea eventually, don't worry. Until then I'm more than happy to take on the role. It can't be that hard, yeah? Just to be all - naughty-sexy-sweet-oh, look, a surprise, i’m actually ready to get fucked six ways to sunday-"

-you get an eyeful of whatever they are doing, this time just, fucking-

Sana only says, "it'll have to take an exceptional amount of patience on both your parts."

-gorgeous, lewd, completely fucking filthy.

"I got a lot, babe."

The second Sana opens her mouth, it's followed with: "pfffht."

It's just, who wouldn't give them whatever they want? Whatever they ask? There's a list out there: no doubt the both of them, gagging. Throat-deep. In their little skirts. Panties. Naked and straddled, just, across their hands. One, maybe. Or both all the same, or still a different preference. One behind the other and taking turns. Something - and this is important, here:

"Look," they say, eyes wide up at you and blinking - on the same fucking beat no less, "you can trust us, okay?"

(Gentleman and distinguished scholars: the list, by the way, only ever gets longer.)

#sana smut #miyeon smut #twice smut #gidle smut #male reader smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut

[getosbigballsack]

Random thought! - Husband Gojo x Wife Reader-chan #inside the diary

Hear me out! Gojo read your thoughts in your diary and came to realize that he was a terrible husband to you.

He knew he was a good lay, hence the reason he managed to knock you up three times. But as of lately, he came to realize that you weren't interested in having sex with him.

At first, he thought it was just because you were too tired, having to take care of the kids while he works, all day by yourself (in which he understands, and he praises you for being such a wonderful mother).

But that wasn't the case. He just happened to come home early from work while you were out shopping with the kids, and he got a hold of your diary.

Interestingly, he took it upon himself to skim through the pages of your book, just to see what's inside your little head. Nothing out of the ordinary, just little notes and reminders to yourself about the task you had to complete and a few words of encouragement here and there.

He usually doesn't read through your thoughts, always thinking that if you had an issue you'd come and talk to him, so he was about to put your diary back where he found it because he didn't want to pry further into your thoughts, but that's until one page in particular caught his eye.

I find it difficult to enjoy sex with my husband nowadays and I don't know why?

Words in blue handwriting are written beautifully on the paper. He kept on reading, and as he continued to move further down the line, he felt his heart break.

It’s just me, but I don't think I'm attractive enough to have sex with my husband.

I wanted to suggest the last time we had sex [that was a month ago], but I didn't wanna ruin the moment for him because he looked like he was having fun.

Satoru came home today and wanted to have sex. I told him no. He never forced himself on me. He only kissed me goodnight and left to go sleep in the guest room. I know he was upset but did he really have to leave?

It's been 2 months, and Satoru hasn't tried touching me since that night. Am I not worthy of loving anymore? He doesn't even buy me flowers anymore or take me out on dates.

He doesn't compliment me anymore, doesn't tell me that I'm beautiful. He doesn’t even call me baby girl, doll or even honey.

No more I love you, only kisses to the forehead and peck on the lips before he leaves for work in the morning.

He comes home late, I'm always alone with the kids, no more family dinners, no more kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom conversations. No more late-night kisses, no more holding me tightly in his arms while he sleeps.

Does he not want me anymore?

Sometimes I wanna visit his office with the children but I’m afraid that he’ll find my presence a bit annoying. I feel lonely without him here with me.

I should've said yes that night and spread my legs for him,

That's my duty as his wife.

To have fulfilled all my husband's needs without complaint.

But it hurts to have sex, I'm just not in the mood. I'm too tired, I just need my husband to hold me, but he's not there.

I can't complain, he's the reason I don't have to work.

But is it so bad to ask my husband to love me without having the need to touch me?

The last entry to your diary reads.

I'm going to do it today, bare the pain and have sex with my husband, just so that I can feel his love once again. 

Now he knows the real reason you won’t have intercourse with him, or let's say the reason you don’t enjoy having sex with him. You feel as though he doesn’t love you anymore, and he needs to fix that. So, until he can figure out a way to prove to you just how much he loves you, he’ll have to deprive himself of your warm loving touch. 

Later in the day when you came home with the kids, you saw your husband cooking up a storm in the kitchen. “Hey baby girl, want something to eat? It’s been a while hasn’t it.” too stunned to even say a word, you just watched as your kids, ages 3, 4 and 6 ran over to their dad and engulfed him in a big hug. He giggled and stopped whatever he was doing to bend to his children’s height and kissed every single of them on their cheeks. “Hey boys. Did you all take your mom out shopping today?” Oh, that’s right you’re a boy mom. You managed to pop three boys, all of them came out looking just like their dad, especially your eldest son. 

The boys chatted away with their dad until he excused himself and walked over to you and wrapped his arms tightly around your body. You're in a state of shock, unable to move for a moment until he whispers, “can I get a hug back?” and you did give him a hug. 

“Welcome home, have a seat, dinner’s almost ready. I cooked vegetable curry today, I know it’s your favourite,” and indeed it is your favourite. For the rest of the day, he spent time in the kitchen cooking while chatting with his kids, not without taking small glances at you. You all ate dinner together, got the kids ready for bed when night falls, before preparing for bed yourselves. 

You remembered that you wrote in your diary that you were about to try and have sex with your husband, all for the sake of feeling his love again, but that didn’t happen. Instead, you found your husband already waiting for you on the bed, fully dressed in pjs, a cup of your favourite tea in his hand and a warm loving smile on his face. 

He immediately started up a conversation with you, asking you about your day and your trip to the shopping centre. You had no clue what was going on inside your husband’s head, but it’s been a while since he last sat down and had small conversations like these, and you weren’t about to miss this opportunity. 

So with a smile on your face, you told everything that happened today and even the fact that you had to buy a bag of grapes you had no intentions of buying, but you did so because your 3 year old son stole and ate a few while you picked up a bag of oranges. The conversation went all a while until he sighed. 

“Y/N,” he whispered in a serious tone. “We need to talk. I was going to wait until tomorrow, but I can’t bear the fact that my wife would be going to bed with doubts about our relationship and my love for you.”

You swallow thickly and rest your now empty cup against the nightstand before turning to face your husband fully. He reached his hand out for you, and you gently placed your left hand in his. He wrapped his large hand around your finger and gently pulled you until you were straddling his lips. You swallowed that thick lump yet again, before whispering, “So what is it that we need to talk about.”

“Why do you always refuse to communicate your feelings with me?” he asked as he let go of your hand and wrapped both hands around your waist and rested his head up against your chest. “I know I haven’t been a good husband to you these past few months, but I don’t want you to think that I don’t love you or that you’re not worthy of loving.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

He sighed heavily before taking a deep breath. “I found your diary in the living room when I got home, and I read through your notes.” Your body tensed up in his lap, your mind immediately racing towards negative thoughts. Is he angry? Why did you have to carelessly leave your diary out in the open for him to see. 

“Oh!”

“I’m sorry for reading through your diary, but I’m happy that I did because my wife won’t communicate with me,” he said with a frustrated sigh. 

You frowned, “Would you have listened even if I tried?”

“I would’ve dropped everything and listened to whatever it is that you have to say. I know it's my duty to ensure that my wife is living her best happy life, and that it’s also my responsibility to take care of your wellbeing, but I can’t always know what's going on with you if you don’t communicate with me.” 

Communication on your end has always been a big issue in your relationship with your husband. It bothered him and he’d hope that after a while you would’ve grown out of your bad habit, but he guess he’s wrong, because here you are now after 8 years of being a relationship total and that includes the four years of marriage, and 3 kids later, you still struggling to figure out a way to communicate your feelings with him. 

“I broke my heart when I read that you thought that as my wife, your duty is to only provide for me sexually or even the fact that you don’t think that you’re attractive enough to have sex with me. What hurts me the most is that you have so many doubts about my love for you. Y/N you know that I love you right?”

“I do,” your voice trembled slightly as you answered. 

“Then why are you doubting my feelings for you? I apologise for leaving you to sleep in the guest room that night, it was wrong of me to be upset all because you told me no.” There was a moment of silence, you figured he was waiting for a response in which you never gave.

“I know I don’t say this as much as I need to, but I love you. I LOVE YOU so very much. I love you as my best friend, my wife and I love you even more as the mother of my children.” Tears started to obstruct your vision as you stared off at your wedding portrait that was above your bed and listened as your husband poured his hurt out to you. 

“I need you to stop thinking that you are not worthy of loving because you are more than worthy. You’re an amazing woman, an amazing wife, and an amazing mother to our children. Just the fact that you're a mother makes you worthy of loving.” 

“Satoru… I- I,” you stuttered, trying to formulate the words inside your mouth, but even if you did, what are you going to say to your husband? You had not one clue. 

“I’m not a mind reader Y/N, so you need to start communicating your feelings with me, because if you don’t tell me, I’m not going to always know,” he said to you as he snuggled his head against your chest. 

“I- I’ll do better.” 

“I’m happy to hear that, and I promise to show you just how much I love you and do whatever it is to ensure that my wife is happy, because your happiness means the most to me. I’ll get you those flowers you want, and I’ll try my best to buy you loads of flowers in the future. And about visiting my office.”

“Yes?” you said. 

“I would love for you to pop up at my office one day with the kids and surprise me. My workers have been dying to meet my beautiful wife and children. And about the late-night work meetings. I can’t promise you that there won’t be any more late-night meetings, but I'll do my best to get home as early as I can to be with you and the kids. I don’t want you to feel as though I’ve abandoned you with the kids. I’ll take a few days off from work too and take the ends out. You’re right we barely have family time.”

“Thank you,” you said smiling as you allowed those tears to run down your cheeks. 

“I’ll do better as your husband. It wasn't my intention to not cuddle and hold you tightly while we sleep. Baby you know you can always smack me in the head or do that cute silly little thing you do and crawl underneath my arms if you want to cuddle with me,” he said to you, and you let out a small giggle. 

He chuckled too as he removed one hand from around your waist to cradle your cheek. “Lastly, this is about our sex life. If I make you feel physical pain, or uncomfortable at any time during intercourse you need to let me know because the last thing I want to do is hurt you. In your diary you said that you wanted to suggest the last time we had sex. I want you to tell me what it is.”

Your face heated up immediately, why would he have to bring that up now. Couldn’t he have waited until a better time. But nonetheless despite the obvious look of embarrassment on your face you whispered, “I was wondering if… if…”

“Yes?” 

“I was wondering if we could try something outside the usual vanilla sex,” you said to him, and he cocked his eyebrow towards you. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy vanilla sex, I love having vanilla sex with you and you know how to be rough when you need to be. But I thought it would be nice if we could do something different.” 

“What do you suggest?” he asked with a sunning grin on his face. 

“Maybe we could try using some sex toys.” 

“Sex toys heh?” he said, and you quickly covered up your face with your hands. “I’m open, I don’t mind getting a few sex toys here and there for us to use. I can order us a few online on another day.”

“Ok…”

“Good girl. I love you.” he whispered as he kissed your lips. "I promise I'll be a better husband for you."

“I love you too, Satoru.”

#gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo fluff #gojo angst #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen satoru #satorugojo #jujutsu satoru #satoru smut

[foone]

Look if there's one thing, just one thing, that I wish everyone understood about archiving, it's this:

We can always decide later that we don't need something we archived.

Like, if we archive a website that's full of THE WORST STUFF, like it turns out it's borderline illegal bot-made spam art, we can delete it. Gone.

We can also chose not to curate. You can make a list of the 100 Best Fanfic and just quietly not link to or mention the 20,000 RPFs of bigoted youtubers eating each other. No problem!

We can also make things not publicly available. This happens surprisingly often: like, sometimes there'll be a YouTube channel of alt-right bigotry that gets taken down by YouTube, but someone gives a copy to the internet archive, and they don't make it publicly available. Because it might be useful for researchers, and eventually historians, it's kept. But putting it online for everyone to see? That's just be propaganda for their bigotry. So it's hidden, for now. You can ask to see it, but you need a reason.

And we can say all these things, we can chose to delete it later, we can not curate it, we can hide it from public view... But we only have these options BECAUSE we archived it.

If we didn't archive it, we have no options. It is gone. I'm focusing on the negative here, but think about the positive side:

What if it turns out something we thought was junk turns out to be amazing new art?

What if something we thought of as pointless and not worth curating turns out to be influential?

What if something turns out to be of vital historical importance, the key that is used to solve a great mystery, the Rosetta stone for an era?

All of those things are great... If we archived it when we could.

Because this is an asymmetric problem:

If we archived it and it turns out it's not useful, we can delete.

If we didn't archive it and it turns out it is useful, OOPS!

You can't unlose something that's been lost. It's gone. This is a one way trip, it's already fallen off the cliff. Your only hope is that you're wrong about it being lost, and there is actually still a copy somewhere. If it's truly lost, your only option is to build a time machine.

And this has happened! There are things lost, so many of them that we know of, and many more we don't know of. There are BOOKS OF THE BIBLE referenced in the canon that simply do not exist anymore. Like, Paul says to go read his letter to the Laodiceans, and what did that letter say? We don't know. It's gone.

The most celebrated playwright in the English tradition has plays that are just gone. You want to perform or watch Love's Labours Won? TOO FUCKING BAD.

Want to watch Lon Cheyney's London After Midnight, a mystery-horror silent film from 1927? TOO BAD. The MGM vault burnt down in 1965 and the last known copy went up in smoke.

If something still exists, if it still is kept somewhere, there is always an opportunity to decide if it's worthy of being remembered. It can still be recognized for its merits, for its impact, for its importance, or just what it says about the time and culture and people who made it, and what they believed and thought and did. It can still be a useful part of history, even if we decide it's a horrible thing, a bigoted mess, a terrible piece of art. We have the opportunity to do all that.

If it's lost... We are out of options. All we can do is research it from how it affected other things. There's a lot of great books and plays and films and shows that we only know of because other contemporary sources talked about them so much. We're trying to figure out what it was and what it did, from tracing the shadow it cast on the rest of culture.

This is why archivists get anxious whenever people say "this thing is bad and should not be preserved". Because, yeah, maybe they're right. Maybe we'll look back and decide "yeah, that is worthless and we shouldn't waste the hard drive or warehouse space on it".

But if they're wrong, and we listen to them, and don't archive... We don't get a second chance at this. And archivists have been bitten too many times by talk of "we don't need copies, the original studio has the masters!" (it burnt down), or "this isn't worth preserving, it's just some damn silly fad" (the fad turned out to be the first steps of a cultural revolution), or "this media is degenerate/illegal/immoral" (it turns out those saying that were bigots and history doesn't agree with their assessment).

So we archive what we can. We can always decide later if it doesn't need preserving. And being a responsible archivist often means preserving things but not making them publicly available, or being selective in what you archive (I back up a lot of old computer hard drives. Often they have personal photos and emails and banking information! That doesn't get saved).

But it's not really a good idea to be making quality or moral judgements of what you archive. Because maybe you're right, maybe a decade or two later you'll decide this didn't need to be saved. And you'll have the freedom to make that choice. But if you didn't archive it, and decide a decade later you were wrong... It's just gone now. You failed.

Because at the end of the day I'd rather look at an archive and see it includes 10,000 things I think are worthless trash, than look at an archive of on the "best things" and know that there are some things that simply cannot be included. Maybe they were better, but can't be considered as one of the best... Because they're just gone. No one has read them, no one has been able to read them.

We have a long history of losing things. The least we can do going forward is to try and avoid losing more. And leave it up to history to decide if what we saved was worth it.

My dream is for a future where critics can look at stuff made in the present and go "all of this was shit. Useless, badly made, bigoted, horrible. Don't waste your time on it!"

Because that's infinitely better than the future where all they can do is go "we don't know of this was any good... It was probably important? We just don't know. It's gone. And it's never coming back"

#Archivist ranting

[countcvnt]

Experiment

Chapter One: Scrambled

[Poly!TF141/Fem!Reader]

Summary: Your memory is hazy, almost nonexistent, after being plucked out of a safe house and experimented on for months. When you're finally rescued you don't remember the people closest to you. Warnings: Canon Typical Violence (not much else this chapter), me using an english to scottish translator, not beta read Word Count: 3.3k A/N: Had this silly idea and turned it into a serious/angsty fic. I hope you all will like it as much as I do! Also, Reader has a call sign! It's Ace. If you prefer, you can read it here on AO3

Your eyes are heavy, your body burns, and you can't stop shaking. You aren't even sure of where you are. Your eyes are trained ahead of you, looking at what you assume is a two way mirror. A scientist is standing to the side of you messing with some needles and medicines. Your half lidded eyes cut towards him and you see a thick blue substance in a syringe.

“What's that?” You croak, voice hoarse.

“Hm?” The scientist doesn't even look at you, “curious now, are we?” He asks, pulling the syringe up and turning to you. He doesn't answer your question though, not in a way you would like. “We are about to figure out what this is.”

‘We’. Your stomach flips. He didn't even seem to know what it was. You accept your fate. You have from the very beginning. You don't know how long you've been part of this ‘program’, and to you, it didn't matter anymore. The only thing that matters is trying to get out alive. No one seemed to be coming for you. No one has in all of the days you've been hidden away. You didn't expect anyone to save you now. So, you had decided to save yourself. Figuring out how to do that was becoming difficult though.

You know that behind that two way mirror are a bunch of guards. You know they're heavily armed. You know, no matter what they have juiced you up with, you aren't beating a bunch of armed men. So, you sit idly. Letting them poke and prod and decide you are going to wait until the perfect opportunity shows itself. You just have to hold on until it does.

A loud alarm suddenly rings throughout the building and you cover your ears, flinching. The scientist seems more agitated than anything. He doesn't seem as bothered as you are, by any means.

“Guards!” He calls out, looking towards the large mirror. “Guards?” He questions.

He puts a finger up at you, asking for you to wait a minute. As if you have any other choice. A loud bang comes from outside the room and chills run up your spine. The guard walks towards the door and he peeks out. He quickly shuts and locks the door before returning back to you. He scurries over towards the metal stand beside your seat. He grabs the syringe and picks it up.

Something clicks in you. The alarms are still blaring and the guards seem to be gone to check it out. You watch as the syringe comes towards you, headed right for your neck. You move faster than you're used to, and grab the man’s hand and push him back. A lot harder than you had meant to. He slides back and hits the wall. The syringe does not leave his hand.

You rush towards the door. You wiggle the door knob and try to rip the door open. It doesn't budge. You turn your head back and see the scientist steadying himself. Fear kicks in.

“Help!” You scream, slamming your fists into the door. “Please, help me!”

“That was really stupid,” the man behind you says. “No one can hear you, no one is coming to save you. They haven't yet, have they?”

Tears prick your eyes. You turn back around and your back hits the door.

“Y'know, I'm going to be honest.” He stalks towards you. “I know they picked you because you're so… compliant. But really? I think that big guy with the mask would have been a better choice.”

That stings. “Who?”

“Which one?”

“Both.”

“You know I can't give out classified information. But if this works, I promise, you'll know everything. As for the other guy? I'm surprised you don't know who I'm talking about. But honestly, after all the brain scrambling you've had done to you, I understand how you don't remember him…”

You lose it. Something in you snaps. You lunge forward and grab the man. The both of you tussle briefly. Until you get him pinned. Your body slams into his and you hold him down. You raise your fist and bring it down, slamming it into his jaw. Screams, pleas fall from his lips. He's begging for you to quit. But you don't. You, at that moment, decide you are going to do that to every single person who has harmed you, who caused this.

The door behind you blows open, but you don't falter. Your fists continue to slam into the scientist’s face. Until you hear someone with a Scottish accent say your name. You freeze. You turn to find a man in the doorway, his eyes wide. You furrow your brows when he whispers your name again. You move to get up, without thinking about the man below you. You don't realize he's moving. His hand comes up and the needle is pressed into your neck. Whatever the liquid was is quickly administered into your bloodstream.

You hear your name again, louder this time, but you fall to the side, eyes too heavy to hold open. Your head slams into the now bloodied white tile and you're out.

So much for escaping. _____________________________________ You wake up to beeping. A sound you had grown accustomed to recently. You feel monitors hooked up to you, and an IV in your arm. You twitch ever so slightly, every muscle in your body contracting. And then it hits.

Anger.

Your eyes snap open. Your legs swing over the side of the bed. You rip every single monitor off of you, the IV flying across the room. The monitor begins to beep loudly and as you rush towards the door, exiting the isolated room, an alarm blares. You flinch momentarily, but do not let the sound stop you. You are looking for someone, anyone to give you a hint of what's going on. Nothing around you looks familiar. But from all the ‘brain scrambling’, that's normal. You're used to not knowing as much as you figure you used to.

A man in a bucket hat turns the corner, rushing towards what can only assume is you. You let out a low growl and begin to sprint. Your body slams into his and the both of you are sent sliding across the floor. You grab his vest and lower yourself to him, all of your weight holding him down. “Where the fuck am I?”

He's looking at you with confused eyes. He doesn't make any sudden movements. He immediately presents himself as a friend, not a threat. You squint and then see someone else coming around the corner.

“Price! Oh my-” the young man freezes. He says your name and your world is instantly rocked.

You haven't heard your name in god knows how long. The Scottish man had called out for you earlier, but before that? You really can't think of a time when someone had called you something other than some experiment number. “Who are you?” You hiss.

You feel the man under you tense up. He swallows hard and he says your name this time, slow and soft. He isn't showing any signs of wanting to throw you across the room or knock the shit out of you. You take it he isn't a threat and shift.

“You don't remember me?” The man in the ball cap asks, brows furrowed. “You don't remember us?”

Your heart jumps into your throat. You push yourself off of the man below you and you stand up. You brush yourself off and watch as he stands up. He radios someone to cut off the alarm and it's promptly stopped. You are thankful for that. You stand in the hall awkwardly and watch him and the other, younger man talk to each other with facial expressions.

“You're probably hungry,” the man in the bucket hat turns towards you, “how about we go get you some food?”

You aren't stupid, you know that also entails speaking with them about everything you just went through. Despite not wanting to talk, you nod. You are hungry and haven't had an actual meal in possibly months. The man reaches out to touch your lower back, to lead you to wherever he wants to go. You flinch away from him, everything in you tensing. You can tell it's a reflex. A habit. He's used to doing that. Your eyes scan him and you're searching your brain for everything, anything about him. But there's nothing.

“Sorry.” Is all he says. He leaves it at that. “Gaz,” he looks away from you and towards the other man. “Please go grab some food and meet us back at room 2B.”

“Yes, sir.”

The tension is palpable. You want to run. Fast. You can. You know you can. But something is keeping you tethered there. You follow a couple feet behind the man who had yet to introduce himself and keep thinking about ‘Gaz’. Your mind is reeling. You keep thinking about his name, his face, everything. You close your eyes tight and inhale sharply.

“Kyle.” It's all you say. It stops you dead in your tracks. Your eyes open and your breathing is heavy. “His name is Kyle.” Your breathing is suddenly ragged. You can't catch your breath and feel like everything is crumbling in on you. You fall to your knees and try to keep yourself from wailing. “I don't even know your name!” You whisper to keep yourself from sobbing. Your voice cracks.

“Price. John Price.” He drops in front of you. He reaches for your bicep. You don't flinch away this time. “Hey,” his voice is low, “look at me.” Your eyes cut up to him. “We're gonna help you through this. I promise.” You nod. You want to trust him. You need to. You feel like you can. You inhale slowly and Price helps you up. “We're going to go to room 2B, you're going to eat some breakfast, and we're going to ask you some questions.”

You nod and start following Price again. You make it to the room in silence and Price opens the door for you. You walk in and find four beige walls, a table, and four chairs. Nothing else. Until you look in the corner of the room and find a little camera. You lock onto it and squint.

“Why?” You point at it.

“Oh,” Price walks in and closes the door behind him, “it’s protocol. Security and all.”

“Fair enough.” You sit down at the table and look at the Price. “You gonna sit?”

Price holds onto his vest and leans against the table. “Not yet.”

You shrug. “Suit yourself.” Your stomach growls. You touch it through the thin white shirt you're wearing. “You think Gaz will be here soon?”

With that, a knock comes from the other side of the door. Two knocks, a pause, and another knock. Price opens the door and Gaz walks in. He has a tray filled with food and you are growing antsy. He sits across from you and slides the tray towards you. You try to not immediately dig in, but you can't help it. You grab a glazed donut first and begin to devour it.

“Oh,” you pause your munching, “thank you, Kyle.”

Gaz freezes. His eyes widen and he turns towards Price. It's your turn to freeze. You look up at him mid bite and blink. Gaz motions towards you and asks, “Did you tell her my name.”

“No.” Price shakes his head.

“You remembered?” Gaz seems ecstatic. “What else do you-”

“Nothing.” You snap. “I don't remember a damn thing.” You huff as you move onto the muffin on the tray. You unwrap it and begin to devour the sweet. “All I know,” You speak through bites, “is that I was locked up for God knows how long and they were experimenting on me-”

“Four months.” Gaz speaks quietly.

“Huh?” You question him. “How do you know?”

“We looked for you when you disappeared. It was four months ago when they got you. You really don’t remember anything?”

“Like I said,” You huff, “I just know they were juicing me up.” Before they can question you further, a light bulb goes off in your head. “Wait.” You squint at them, “The Scottish one. Where is he?”

They tense up. Gaz talks first, “You remember Soap?”

“Huh?” You cock your head. “Is that his name? He’s the one that found me. I assume he’s here. Or did he not…” You trail off.

“No, he’s here…” Price begins, “…We don’t want to overwhelm you.”

“Oh.” You shrug. “I guess that makes sense. How am I supposed to, uh, assimilate without being overwhelmed. I mean, why don’t we just rip that band aid off?”

“Trust me,” Price locks eyes with you, “we do not need to rip that band aid off right now.”

“Okay, okay,” You put your hands up. “Do you wanna ask your questions now?” _____________________________________ “This cannae be healthy,” Soap looks at Simon.

Simon shrugs, “Don’t care.” He’s watching the cameras closely.

“Thay aren't even in th' room yit! Ye'r peepin' an empty room!” Soap’s eyes move from the screen and back to Simon.

Simon’s eyes cut from the screen and to Soap, “Shut it. Price wants us to stay away from her for now. He didn’t say we couldn’t do this.”

As he says that, the door of the room opens. Price is visible first. And then, another figure walks in. You. Simon and Soap both tense. You look directly at the camera and point, asking why it’s there. You’re so clear. Soap’s heart jumps. Simon shifts.

“She remembers Gaz’s name.” Simon speaks through gritted teeth.

“A'm sure that's a targeted attack against ye, Ghost.” Soap is trying to find humor in this situation. He’s grasping for straws.

Simon is not enjoying it. “Shut the fuck up, Johnny.” Simon growls.

Soap focuses back on the screen and notices you aren’t even sure how long you’ve been gone. As Gaz gently tells you four months, Simon grumbles the amount of time at the same time.

“If Price doesn’t wanna overwhelm her, why the fuck is Gaz in there.” Simon is seething. “Why can’t we all be in there.”

Simon shuts his mouth as you say they had been juicing you up. He tenses. Soap does the same. They both need to know what it means. Simon feels like he’s going to combust. His eyes narrow once you mention Soap. Soap looks like he’s about to jump with joy, until he realizes you don’t actually remember him. Not past him saving you.

“Fuck this,” Simon pushes past Soap. “I'm going in there.”

“Hey! Price said-” Soap starts. He doesn't finish. “Fine-” he rushes out behind Simon. He guesses they're just going to bust into the room and Simon is going to make you remember. He isn't quite sure what Simon has planned really. But he decides he can't sit in the security room and just watch. He needs to see you.

So does Simon. _____________________________________ You reach for a fork for your eggs and lean back in your seat, plate in hand. You relax (as much as possible) and you look at Gaz and Price. You are studying them. Really digging into their features. You want to remember so badly. You have no reason to trust that they used to know you, a part of you is ready to attack in case they are lying. But most of you trusts them. How else would you remember Kyle’s name?

“Listen,” Price inhales sharply, “we want to help you, without overwhelming you. We need to know what you know.”

“Listen,” You mimic his tone, “I don’t know what you aren’t getting. I remember nothing, nada, zilch.”

“Okay,” Gaz interjects, “What’s your last memory?”

You're sent into deep thought. You place your hand on your chin and look off. “Well-” You begin, “I remember-”

The door of the room busts open. You tense, ready to pounce. Your palms hit the table and you stand up straight. The fork clangs against the ground. Two men walk into the room. The one who saved you and-

Words play in your head over and over again. ‘I think the big guy with the mask would have been a better choice.’ For a moment, your world is completely rocked. ‘I’m surprised you don’t know who I'm talking about.’ Your eyes lock with the large beast of a man. His eyes soften. Briefly. You swallow hard.

The entire room is silent. Until you open your mouth. “He wanted you…”

“What?” Soap is the first to question you.

“The scientist, the one doing the experiments on me-” You are tense again “-he didn’t want me.” Your head hurts. You place your hand on your forehead and groan. You are thinking too hard. Remembering too much.

“Hey,” Price motions for you to sit down, “it’s alright.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Ghost,” Price looks over his shoulder, “not right now.”

Ghost stiffens. He doesn’t say anything else. You sit down and inhale slowly. Your eyes move from the floor, past Price, and they hit Ghost. You feel something stir inside you. Like your emotions know more than your brain does. You want to scream. Every single man in that room seems to think so highly of you, and you don’t even remember them.

“I think I need to sleep.” Your voice is a whisper.

You don’t know the last time you got a good rest. You figure sleeping will help you. Price begins to grab for you, before freezing. You lean into him, letting him help you up. Price moves past the men and you tag along beside him.

“I’m going to show you where your room is. If you need anything, please let one of us know. But for now, we’ll leave you alone.” You are led down the hall and towards the barracks. It’s silent between the two of you, until you reach your room. “You have this room to yourself. I had some things rearranged, if it needs to be changed, and you aren’t comfortable alone, let me know.”

You nod at him. “Thank you. For everything. I’ll see you in the morning?”

“0600 sharp.” Price begins to leave.

“Wait,” You stop him. “You don’t happen to have my phone, do you?”

Price turns back to you. “No, that was not recovered. But, we can get you a new one. I’ll work on that while you rest.”

You nod. You head into your room and close the door behind you. You look around. There are two beds. You groan at the fact you can’t remember who used to be your bunk mate. You’re scraping through your brain, really searching for just an inkling of a memory. But… Nothing. Nothing at all comes to your mind.

Nothing about the four men convinced that you know them, anyway.

You lay down in bed and cover up. It’s not the most comfortable bed you’ve ever been in, but it is the most comfortable bed you’ve laid on in the last four months. Your head hits the pillows and you close your eyes. It takes longer than you’d like to go to sleep, but not as long as you expect it to take. You only hope you don’t dream of anything at all. You can’t be that lucky. _________________________________ “Price!” Simon shouts at the captain. His face contorted with anger and pain, and he is more glad than ever that they can’t see him through his balaclava. “What the fuck was that? We need to know-”

“No,” Price stops him immediately. “We do not need to stress her out further. We will figure this out eventually, on her time.” Price reassures his team. “You did not see the look in her eyes, the way she tackled me to the floor-”

“She what…?” Soap tenses.

Simon bristles instantly. He’s seething again. “What do you mean?”

“Ghost,” Gaz starts, “I know you want to know what happened. We all do.” He’s trying to get through to him. “But something is not right. The way she easily took Captain Price down- That wasn’t the Ace we know.”

“Of course!” Simon growls, “She was gone for four months, being poked and prodded-”

“Ghost,” Price interrupts, inhaling sharply, “she pinned me down and I could not get up. They did more than poke and prod at her. They-”

It clicks. “They were making soldiers… Enhanced soldiers.” Simon whispers. His face contorts again, this time with confusion, “Why did they pick her?” He remembers what you said. ‘He wanted you.’ Simon momentarily feels a pit in his stomach. “Ace couldn’t have been the only one… There’s no way they did this experiment on one person.”

“She was the only one at the underground compound.” Soap shifts. “Maybe she was the only success?”

Simon is stuck on why they picked you. It’s not like you weren’t capable. But you were never on the field fighting for your life. You were always on the sidelines, helping them get into the places, helping them get information. How had they spotted you and decided you were the best candidate? He knows that question is going to keep him up at night.

“Come on,” Price brings Simon back to reality. “We got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

#ghost x reader #john price x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #john soap mactavish #john price #cod x reader #cod #call of duty #call of duty x reader #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #captain john price #x reader

[wonryllis]

candy, you're like a drug (m) | sim jaeyun.

PREVIEW. where jake teaches you how to blow him behind the bleachers just before his soccer practice, unable to resist the charm of you in a cheerleader outfit. well it's not like he has to resist you anymore, you are finally officially his girl.

FEATURING. simp sim jaeyun(jake) with his obsession fem!reader(candy) from WATERMELON SUGAR . . this can absolutely be read as a standalone but i would still suggest giving the full fic a read, if you like this.

WORD COUNT. 3140 edited but don't come at me.

WARNINGS. SMUT MDNI!!!!! blowjob obviously, face fucking, dacryphilia, corruption kink, handjob, reader's a crybaby kinda, pussy rubbing but brief, mentions of eating pussy, voyeurism slightly, jake's mind is literally a museum of dirty thoughts about you. he's way too obsessed with you, he swears a lot and cums a lot, hand in hand. jake is real sweet trust. psst! sunghoon thrid wheeling oh. and that's all i think? idk if it's good i hope y'all like it!

★ YEONIE NOTES. this took so long im sorry guys, pls enjoy and leave comments and feedback i'd love to know your thoughts and yes im still open to doing more drabbles for them!

cheerleader… not a bad idea, you could definitely make use of it

“oh my god candy, you're gonna be the death of me!” jake pulls you away, dragging you to the back of the bleachers, his cock already rock hard and throbbing with need.

“don't you like it? i thought cheerleaders dressed like this,” you pout at him, fiddling with the ends of the literally shortest skirt of your closet.

“i love it baby, but you can't just show up to practice like that, how am i gonna be able to concentrate when all i can think of you is fucking you,” he groans scanning over your figure again and again, it's like you brought out a hidden desire he didn't even know he had. he'd win every game for you if you were to cheer by the stands like this, the adrenaline of getting to ruin your perfect outfit and your perfect makeup after, putting him on a winning streak.

“teach me to suck you off,” jake loses his mind when you get down on your knees, pushing your hair out of the way and looking up at him through your lashes, doe eyes driving him crazy.

“shit baby, i will,” oh he's so going to corrupt you.

“let me just put this down f’ you,” taking off his varsity jacket immediately, he spreads two fold on the ground, pressing his hands on it to make sure it's cushioned enough for you. being glad of the fact that he hadn't taken the jacket off for the practice before you came to give him the surprise.

. .

“you okay baby? do your knees hurt too much?” he asks once it settles in that you are doing this here and right now. heart pounding against his ribs so hard, he feels it ringing in his ears. his eyes cast down to the place your knees meet the rough ground and he internally grimaces and scolds himself for letting your soft skin scrap against dirt like this.

you smile sweetly at his actions, moving onto the jacket and letting your knees rub against the same cloth you watched him wash just yesterday. his precious jacket that he always took extra care of.

“so? how do i do it?” jake’s eyes quiver, orbs darkening as the lust takes over. blood rushing down quick at the dirty insinuation behind the innocent words that leave your mouth. drunk on the way you already seem so into it.

“take it out first,” he tries not to falter and just moan his heart out when you already jump at pulling his pants and boxers down before he's even finished speaking. holding his breath while he watches you watch his cock slap against his lower abs and then reach out to gently grasp it. mouth instinctively slacking open when he twitches in your grip and slowly bringing him close. a wet smooch at the tip that makes his whole body shudder and release a thick glob of precum, confusing you if he just came, your eyes instantly shooting up to look at him to which he just nods his head telling you to go on. put it in your mouth. his gaze speaks, air dense with anticipation.

“go on baby⁠— fuckkkkk oh god,” fuck fuck fuck, it feels way too good, cock laying heavy against your hot tongue, the softness of your mouth inside feeling like a tight pouch of warmth engulfing him in the most pleasurable way possible.

“just s-suck on it like your lollies,” jake groans, uttering the words through his clenched teeth. just a minute into you trying to give him head and he already feels like busting a nut. god how long has he dreamt of this exact moment and how many times. how many dreadful nights of fisting his cock imagining it was your tiny warm mouth around him, sucking him hard and sloppy like you do with those watermelon lollipops all the damn time in front of him. those torturing times, oh he can't believe he survived it to actually know what it feels like to be inside your mouth.

his hair sticks to his forehead, feeling the sweat drip as he breathed hard with every experimental suck. hands reaching down to push the strands of hair that fall forwards away from your face. thumb caressing your the skin under your eyes as you look up and into his brown orbs. holding eye contact with a dazed doe look that drives him crazy. the touch of your small hands stroking what you can't seemingly fit inside, lips always coming back to suck on his tip, like slurping dripping candy. he felt crazed, insane, and lunatic for still craving so much more of you.

“yeah fuck candy, just like that,” he pants, head tilting back as he gasps for air, everything around him tuning out at the realization of having you on your knees for him.

“shit!” the sudden feeling of you gagging around him after trying to take him all in makes jake jerk forward in a shudder.

it doesn't take him another second to decide that, that's it. he can't control himself anymore and absolutely needs to fuck your mouth, push so deep into your throat it leaves the imprints of his cock and make you so cock drunk all you ever think about when you gulp is him him and just him.

“push my thighs if gets too much—” one of his hands thread into your hair in a makeshift half pony to hold your head firmly and the other squeezing below his tip hard to hold himself from nutting before he gets to the real thing, wanting to drag this out even though he knows sooner or later someone will come searching for him, noticing the quaterback’s absence the moment one pays a tad bit of attention.

jake has never been the one to skip practice and especially not for something indecent like this. being late is not in his veins and keeping his varsity duffle bag at the stark front of the bleachers; his all time habit, always eager to make his presence and determination known. so the fact that he can't be spotted anywhere in the field with his bag resting exactly where it is every time, is more than enough of a reason to have the whole team searching around for him. however, in all honesty, you being an exception to all of jake's rules(as it has always been) all he hopes for is not being caught no matter how much the thought of it arouses him. he can't let people see this pretty you. wanting to gatekeep you to the very last bits. hence, this blowjob is way more important, and practice and his team can just wait a few extra minutes.

he starts off slow at first, thrusting careful and steady, to let you adjust to it. ten, nine, eleven, eleven, trying to count sheep in his head not to lose his cool too quick. shit shit shit, it's okay, it's all good.

it works for a while, even if his counting is fucked over like him, it works for a short fleeting while. maybe a minute or two or three, he has no idea but it's too brief of a time to be called as holding back.

he takes one look at you. just one look, at the way you already seem to be struggling, drooling all around him with your doe eyes all wide and teary, a few drops slipping out with each thrust of him. you are a crybaby for sure and maybe it would've annoyed him if it were someone else but come on it's you. he already imagined you to be a crybaby and god did it turn him on beyond expectation, though he didn't think you'd actually be one, and he definitely never thought he'd love it so so much when you cried for him. eyelashes wet and batting at him, doing whatever it takes to keep your eyes open and trained on him.

if he knew it was because the first time you fucked, he asked you to keep your eyes on him and you thought he liked it when you did it, hence forcing your hooded eyes to stay on him right now.. jake would lose his mind into the depths of hell and into the sins of lust.

the whimper you let out when his cock hits the back of your throat makes him buck his hips forward once, and at realization of how you're struggling and yet not pushing him away because you want it just as much as him, his grip on your head tightens before he starts thrusting frantically like a madman. albeit, at the back of his subconscious he's still holding back, knowing you're not yet ready to handle his true lost self.

“i swear, you're trying to kill me,” his voice strains with the amount of moans and groans he held back all time to make sure people don't find him.

back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. jake's hips fall into a rhythm of their own as he swears out all the curses known to mankind at the back of his mind. feeling so good, it makes him question if all the sex he had until you was actually some real sex or just some otome simulation he played.

there's no way something as simple as this and something where he has to be sane enough to hold his demons in check could feel so damn ecstatic.

his eyes shut tight at the feeling of his orgasm creeping in quick. not wanting to overwhelm you by coming deep inside your throat, yet not being able to stop the frenzied thrusts: desperate and erratic. fucking you had him fighting demons but having your mouth on him also has him fight demons, though a level lower, but feeling like his life would be sucked out of him.

and if there's anyone who he'd actually let sucking his life out of him, it'd be you. one whine of his name and he'll fold to give you his cock anytime and anywhere.

“fuck candy, ‘m so close,” jake's strokes falter into sloppy movements when you suck in your lips to squeeze him tighter showing no signs of pushing at his thighs and just letting him hold your head in place and use you as he pleases.

just as he feels the first twinge of coming undone, jake quite literally forces himself out, gritting his teeth and holding his breath as he pulls away mumbling out a rough fuck while staggering in his steps.

“jerk me off, wanna finish on your face, wan to paint your pretty little cheeks and your cute little tongue with my cum,” he mutters, guiding one of your hands to his cock as one of his own moves to hold your jaw and squeeze your cheeks to keep your mouth open. thumb rubbing against your lower lips while he bites his own at your hands returning to stroke him like you did before. brows furrowing and heart thumping loud as his orgasm builds up again.

he's gonna cum so much and jake knows because it starts to hurt. and like the masochist he is, he heightens it by bringing his other hand to hold his cock over your small slick ones,”twist it like this under the head,” he says squeezing and moving his hands in twists to show you just how he likes it. and lord do you get it so well, twisting harshly just under the head like he said and then pulling at it. it's honestly a mysery to jake how he's lasted this long and not just cum in the first two minutes of you touching him. perhaps his experience comes to some use, but then even his experience can't help him from nutting in just merely twenty minutes. the time he so struggled to calculate just a couple seconds before he lets the pleasure take over and the hot spurts of cum shoot out on your tongue and all over your face.

“mhmmm fuck baby fuckkkk—” jake hisses, biting down on his lips hard as his whole body spasms with pleasure, ropes of cum spilling out the tip, pushing his hips in quick thrusts into your fist.

and even though jake has perhaps sworn a million times that he's not a voyeur, that he does not feel his entire being ascending into the holy sins at the prospect of being watched with you, especially anyone besides him, watching you, he swears he has sworn on it a good damn gazallion times. yet when he spots a boggled and overwhelmed sunghoon, gaping and gawking in the corner, the intrigue and hunger in his obscure gaze evident along with his obvious boner; jake feels a second orgasm coaxed out of him in another spurt of cum that lands directly on that spot on your lips he loves to rub his fingers over.

fuck. that's all jake can think of watching sunghoon realize he was caught and immediately rushing off. since when was that prick watching? he better not have gotten a look at your teary eyes and heard the little whines you let out.

he doesn't let it bother him too long though, he'll deal with it when he gets back to the field.

what he now wants to focus on is you and only you.

running his thumb over the splashes of cum and smearing them on your lips, inserting his fingers into your mouth and telling you to suck before he's pulling you up by your waist and holding you tight against him. his cock rubs against the fabric of your skirt, twitching with sensitivity at the touch but he pays it no mind. his own lips hovering over yours as he speaks in a whisper,”are you okay? did i hurt you somewhere?”

you shake your head in denial and jake heaves a sigh of relief, proceeding to tame your hair back to how it was before. palms caressing your head softly, and fingers threading through the strands all gentle and slow. not wanting this moment with you to end. his lips lock with yours in the midst of it as his hands fall down to your waist again. kissing with so much fervor and desperation, it makes you rub your thighs together to get some kind of a friction. and jake notices it for his hand had moved to play with the ends of your short skirt, knuckles loosely brushing against the back of your thighs that fidgeted every time he sucked on your tongue or nibbled on your lips.

“oh, my baby seems bothered,” pulling away to whisper it against your lips that chase his own for more.

“what do you want? tell me and i’ll give it to you,” jake grins, watching you struggle out of embarrassment,”come on candy, use your words,” it's so cute, should he just touch you or should he take his time cooing at your fumbling self.

“w- want yo—”

“well since you aren't gonna say it,” he picks up his jacket from the ground and brings it up to your face to wipe off his cum from your cheeks. pushing against the plump of your skin to make your lips pout out and one of your eyes close.

“want you to touch me too,” you whine.

“where baby? you gotta tell me,” he teased further, booping your nose before putting his jacket back on him.

“here,” jake’s breath hitches when you guide his hand down to touch you over your panties, the fabric so damn wet you might as well have cum untouched. the prospect of that being true turns him on beyond what's humanely possible. you cumming untouched while he fucked your mouth, god the thought of it makes him crazy. but thinking back on how sunghoon wandered in, it's better to leave it at this for now. can't have more people getting the opportunity to see you.

“here? my baby wants me to touch her pussy?” there's so much more he wants to say, but he knows if he says it now there's no way he won't be getting rock hard again and completely ditching practice.

his fingers press hard into your folds while he rubs around, his other hand squeezing your ass and his face buried in your neck, inhaling the scent of your shampoo as he bites and nibbles on the skin there.

“i’m sorry candy, but you'll have to wait until after practice. want to take my time eating you out. want to make you cum at least three times,” and make you squirt, he wants to add but man does the thought of it make his dick twitch, speaking it out loud would just make him squirt a pump of cum.

he slips his fingers inside to gather your wetness, sliding two fingers between your folds before taking it out and putting them into his mouth,"fuck, love the way you taste,”he groans. his favorite candy in the world. his drug, candy.

jake spends another minute rubbing you over your slick panties and letting his other hand on your ass move all over and grope you wherever he can. he makes sure it's just enough to have you craving his touch the entire time you wait. feeling jealous over the thought that having you wait for him by the bleachers would give sunghoon a view of you too. and knowing his friend, he probably won't have any innocent thoughts about you after what he walked into.

“come on now let's go,” it takes a great deal of self constraint for jake to pull away but alas it will only be fruitful once he gets through practice and has all the time in the world to pleasure you.

he helps you fix your appearance and dusts off his jacket and pulls up his pants before he leads you back out into the field where everyone waited for him.

“wait for me here,” he says, bringing you to his bag where he takes off his ‘thisisneverthat’ shirt to put on his jersey with a smug grin lacing his lips. placing his jacket on your lap to cover your pretty legs, if he could he would just burrito you with a blanket and th— no sim that's creepy.

“I'll be back before you know it,” bending down to place a chaste kiss on lips and forehead, he promises. jogging away to the middle of the field and taking his position beside sunghoon. it feels like there's a spark of tension between them from what you catch, but perhaps you're just thinking too much, they're good friends aren't they?

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