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#or get a chance to go right into her room the moment she opens it
jazzyoranges · 21 hours
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Late nights - drabble
Tara Carpenter x fem!reader
Summary: sorry anon, i accidentally deleted the request 😓 but they asked for me to write a fic with tara in fem!reader’s hoodie (aka cuddly tara strikes again)
Words: 0.9k
A/n: hopefully a lil something to get me out of my writing slump. let’s hope this isn’t too bad considering i haven’t written in a few months 😅
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You really didn’t mean to be out for so long
First your boss asks you to do one favor, then another, and next thing you know you’re at work for 4 hours more than you’re supposed to be. The asshole didn’t even pay you for all the extra shit you did! You made a mental note to go job hunting this week.
Maybe the gay club was looking for a stripper? Nah. Your girlfriend would get jealous
So you were angry. Angry about your paycheck
Next a few storm clouds roll up that night. Of course you forget to bring your rain jacket that day. Not to mention, rain feels like hail stones when you’re on your motorcycle. Apparently it’d be a cold day in hell before you dressed right for the weather
So along with being angry, you were cold and wet. Shitty might’ve been the lightest way you could’ve described your day
At least you could come home to your wonderful girlfriend in an apartment of your own. It took lots of convincing and hundreds of game nights to convince Sam to even accept the idea of you and Tara being alone together. Fortunately you were blessed with patience and homosexuality — two things that could withstand Sam’s will to protect her sister
Was the older Carpenter’s place on the floor right above you and Tara’s?
Yes. Yes it was.
But if it made your girlfriend and her sister happy, you had no reason to not be as well. Other than the elevator that never fucking worked but that was out of their hands
Your shirt and hair were absolutely soaked in rainwater by the time you reached your apartment door. The was a small trail of water behind you from where you walked but that might’ve been the least of your concerns. Fishing around in your damp pants for your keys, you fortunately find them without much effort
Opening the door with as little energy you can, you lock the door behind you and triple check you locked it just like Sam told you
Not wasting any time you slide off your wet shirt in the middle of your living room, throwing it on a chair and missing the younger Carpenter waiting on the couch for you half asleep
“Baby?” Tara rubs her eyes. You stand in the middle of your hallway like a deer in headlights. You were awfully vulnerable while wet and almost naked. Who knew.
Before you can respond, there’s shuffling behind you then something weighted and warm on your back. Tara’s leaning into you with her arms around your torso while you’re wet and almost naked in the middle of your hallway. What a sight.
“Why were you so late? You’re working tonight…” Your girlfriend’s hand dips a bit below your waistband and you have to resist the urge to shiver. From the cold? From Tara? Only god knew
“My boss had me do extra shit. I’ll find a different job that doesn’t have me out so late” You turn around to face Tara while her arms were still around you “I promise”
The younger Carpenter only hums into your chest without any sign of moving. So you don’t. It gives you the chance to really soak in the moment along with the rainwater on your skin. You only pull away when your girlfriend also starts to shiver
Of course she’s wearing nothing but a hoodie
Specifically, Tara’s wearing nothing but your hoodie
“How long have you been fighting sleep? Go to bed, love” You pick up your girlfriend with her legs wrapped around your waist and her arms loosely thrown around your neck
“Since you decided you hated me” Tara mumbles into your shoulder
“When was that?”
“When you didn’t come home on time”
“And I gave you a reason why I was late”
“Which doesn’t excuse you, because you could’ve hurried up” Tara plays with your bra strap as you stop walking toward your shared bedroom
“What I’m hearing is, you don’t want to take a late night shower with me? Even after a long day of work, where you could help me de-stress?” You say with a certain smugness in your voice
Your girlfriend whips her head up at your offer but you’ve already made it to your shared bed, not wasting a second to plop her down
“Waitbabypleaseididn’tmeanit-“ You’re already in the bathroom as Tara’s trying to scramble to you
“What? Sorry, love! Can’t hear you over the shower”
You had a childhood cat that always followed you around when you were younger. Tara reminded you of when your cat would scratch at the door whenever you went to the bathroom. Your girlfriend even had the scratching down just like your cat
When you were about to hop in the bath for a quick shower, something stops you from getting in. The imagery alone that Tara is probably leaning against the door waiting for you to get out is enough to pull at your heartstrings
You weren’t mean. You missed Tara as much as she missed you. It’s why she always wore your hoodies and you always took her shirts that fit you
So against your better judgment and the water bill you’re going to have to take Advil for, you unlock the bathroom door but you don’t open it
You’re both in the shower and you’re in Tara less than a second later
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vera-deville · 16 hours
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I Will Say (I'm in Love)
08/04/2023 - 04/30/2024
Pairing: Leona Kingscholar x Reader Word Count: 2,807 Warnings: A fair amount of cursing; Reader's outfit is a dress and is decidedly purple; Reader does go through a little bit of a mental breakdown (I personally blame all the stress of NRC), but I promise it's gonna be alright- Gender: AFAB Tags: @pyroxeene, @achy-boo, @savanaclaw1996, @otomyoli, @chroniccorvus Notes: This is the second part to this fic, so please check that out before reading this! Rook is basically a fairy godmother (even tho he's a stalker, but we don't talk about that). Oh, and I made a reference to Savanaclaw Rook, because he's been living in my head rent-free and thERE ARE NO FICS ABOUT IT DARN IT-
In which Y/N eventually does say that she's in love.
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"Shit." Y/N hissed as she swung open the wardrobe door, only to reveal that there were no decent dresses.
"For fuck's sake!" The girl screeched, running her hands through her hair and yanking at it. Only the Great Seven could help her at this point. Did any of them specialize in luck with money? Or even better yet, did any of them specialize in stopping a person from splurging all their hard earnt bribed thaumarks on art supplies?
Grim wasn't even there to help with this whole fiasco!
Who else could she ask for money? Azul? No, that one's too slippery. Kalim? No, that one's guarded by a snake and talks too much. Vil? But that one's...
That one's perfect! He wouldn't be able to resist helping out someone to look fabulous! Besides, Y/N could handle potato insults for a bit if it meant getting a fabulous dress picked out by Vil Schoenheit himself.
And so the Prefect of Ramshackle ran as fast as her legs would carry her, all the way to the house of Pomefiore. It's a pretty name, filled with pretty people, but at this moment, only one pretty person mattered.
"VIIIILLLLL! I NEEEEEED YOUR HEEEELLLLLPPPP!"
That should grab his attention.
And grab his attention it did, because mere seconds later, a tall blonde stormed into the common room, vial of poison ready in his hand for the heathen that dared summon him in such a manner.
But before he could get a word in, Y/N asked, no begged him for help with a dress. And of course, him being the gracious queen he is, he couldn't leave the potato in such a state.
"Coral, though a nice color, would be far too bright for you for this event." Holding up a card of azure up to Y/N's shoulder, Vil decided that also would not do the trick. "Perhaps a glowy yellow brown?" Y/N perked at the fabric Vil held in his hands. It was just a small square piece of fabric, but it looked oh so pretty. Like sand glimmering in the sunlight.
And then suddenly the sun lit sand turned into purple.
A very familiar purple, though Y/N couldn't quite put her finger on it. Scrunching his face in contemplation, Vil nodded to himself before letting Y/N know that she should opt for a dress in that shade of lavender.
Which is how Y/N found herself in a shopping mall, looking high and low for a vaguely familiar shade of purple in a dress that she should have gotten ready long ago. Earlier, Y/N had pondered about who to bring with her (if she chose to bring anyone at all) to the mall to help her find just the right dress. Vil was the obvious choice, but Y/N wasn't sure she wanted to indulge in his kindness more than she already had. Rook was also a good choice, but Y/N didn't feel like admitting anything to him at the current moment (though knowing his nature, he probably already knew everything).
In the end, Y/N went by herself, not confident enough to bring anyone with her. In the hours she had to get ready for her event, Y/N had something of an epiphany. Anxiety was a bitch. No shade of purple seemed to match the shade card Vil had given her. And if she did find a dress in the color, the dress was not one she'd think herself beautiful in. In the off chance that she'd find a dress that was the right shade and style, Y/N would immediately go an try it on - only to despise the way it fit around her body.
This was now the 7th store that Y/N had walked into in hopes of finding the perfect lavender dress that eluded her grasps so.
And right off the bat, there was a beautiful dress. In the same shade Vil had instructed her to buy. In a style that made her heart pick up the pace because it was simply and utterly beautiful. Making a beeline towards the dress, Y/N gently ran her hands through the fabric. Good, it wasn't itchy. She pulled the dress to the side in such a way that she could see the back, but the dress still hung on the rack, and she could feel a heave of relief making its way through her lips. It was just right.
Her heart was racing now, and Y/N couldn't shake the grin off her face, and for once, she didn't even care. Speed-walking towards the dressing rooms, Y/N nearly threw open one of the stall's doors, and locked herself inside immediately. Hanging her purse on a hook, she stripped out her clothes and slipped the dress over her head and down her body.
Except it wasn't going down her body.
It was stuck at her hips.
With a gentle fury, Y/N pulled at the dress, trying to force the thing down her thighs.
It wasn't going down.
Looking back up at the mirror, as though it would be some sort of saving grace, she continued to try to pull the dress down, but no avail.
Eventually, she zeroed in on her eyes in the mirror, and that's when Y/N stopped for a brief moment. She took in her appearance. Dress half worn, frown embedded, sweat glistening, hair frenzied, shoes thrown in some corner, and worst of all: tears beginning to form.
In a moment of rash wrath, Y/N pulled the dress off her, and threw it against the mirror, letting the tears pour out her eyes as she hugged herself and turned away from the mirror.
It's like not a single thing would go her way and it was stupid, worrying this much over a dress, but that wasn't all there was to it. It wasn't just the dress. It was the event, the school, the people, it was the whole world she'd been dropped into.
Aware that she was still technically in a public setting and should maintain at least some semblance of decorum, Y/N kept her sobs and sniffles to herself.
Knock knock.
Whipping her head up, Y/N realized that an employee was knocking on the door, and sniffed once more. Wiping her eyes and her face and wearing the clothes and shoes she originally walked in with, she grabbed her purse and the damned lavender dress, plastered a smile on her face, and opened the door.
No need to burden others with her own burdens.
Except standing outside the door was no employee, but rather Rook Hunt.
Bewildered, Y/N rubbed her eyes again in hopes that she was hallucinating and wasn't actually seeing Rook Hunt right after she had an emotional breakdown.
Sadly, she was in fact seeing Rook Hunt after said emotional breakdown.
"What a magnificent coincidence my dear Trickster!" Rook said as he walked with Y/N out of the dressing rooms of the store.
"Uh, yeah, pretty cool coincidence Rook. What're you doing here?" Y/N asked, trying to move the focus away from her and on to Rook. If he noticed, he didn't make it known. He simply continued to prattle on about a new fashion line from a brand he liked.
The thing about Rook that Y/N enjoyed at this particular moment was how despite the fact that he was here to buy something for himself, he simply followed Y/N wherever she went while occasionally interrupting to ask if a particular garment would look good on him or not. (Y/N was sure he knew that it would look good on him, and that he simply wished to hear someone else say it).
It hadn't been too long since Y/N had returned the lavender dress she'd tried to wear to an employee at the store and had instead opted to accompany Rook to the store that had the new line he was looking for (as a change of pace of some sort). The store itself was very high-end, that much she could tell, and while she'd always had a rough suspicion that Rook was in fact secretly rich, him perusing through everything that caught his eye in the store (which was a lot) without bothering about the prices certainly cemented the suspicion in Y/N.
Mindlessly scanning her eyes through the aisles visible to her as she waited for Rook to emerge from his dressing room, Y/N scrunched her face as she remembered her dressing room incident from earlier. Even though she was feeling a lot better now, it didn't change the fact that she still had no dress, and was running out of time to get ready.
Bam!
The door smack open dramatically with an even more dramatic figure emerging from the depths within.
Rook actually looked really nice. He clearly had a good eye for these things, even if most of those things were taught to him by Vil. Apparently there was a time where Rook was in Savanaclaw, and was something of a diamond in the rough (Vil's words, not hers). Before Vil got used to Rook being...well, Rook, he had given him an atrocious bob cut in hopes of Rook finally leaving him alone.
Spoiler alert, it did not work. In fact, Rook embraced the haircut so much that he hasn't changed it since he first got it, and he certainly hasn't stopped his usual Rook self.
Personally, Y/N couldn't imagine Rook looking any different. But no matter how much she pestered either Rook or Vil for old photos of him from back in Savanaclaw, neither would budge (one because it was too hideous and the other because he simply found it fun to tease her).
"Trickster? Are you alright?" Rook asked Y/N who was lost in thought.
"Hmm?" Y/N hummed, snapping out of her thoughts. "Oh yeah, I'm alright. Sorry, I was just thinking about something." Doing a once-over of Rook, she said, "You look great."
Before she could get another word in, Rook slyly side-stepped her and made his way to some corner of the store not fully visible from where she was standing. Confused, Y/N tried leaning over to see where he'd gone, but when she couldn't see anything, she simply turned back and waited for him to come back.
He'd most probably seen something else he wanted to buy and was getting it.
Pulling out her phone, Y/N realized that she had less than an hour to get ready, and sighed. Still no dress. No completed hair or makeup. No nothing.
It was at this moment that Rook popped up in front of her face.
"There you are! Did you find something you wanted to try on-" Y/N asked when she looked at what Rook was holding in his hands.
It was a dress.
It was lavender in color.
It looked beautiful.
"I saw this dress, and I immediately thought that it would suit you so well! Hurry, go try it on~" Rook explained as he shoved Y/N towards the dressing room.
Sputtering, Y/N could only hold onto the dress thrust onto her arms as she was pushed by Rook. Once inside the room, she looked at the mirror.
Sigh.
Here we go again.
Tugging off her clothes, she pulled the dress over her figure with all the time she had.
Not looking at the mirror, she pulled the dress down her thighs. It went down just fine.
Huh.
Running her hands down the fabric and smoothening out any of the wrinkles in place, Y/N finally looked at her reflection. The dress was slightly loose, but not in a bad way. It gave her room to breathe. Besides, it'd probably shrink after she threw it in the wash. Y/N twirled around, watching the movement of the dress closely. It actually looked nice.
Hesitantly, Y/N brought her hand to the lock on the door and after taking in a deep breath, she opened it.
Rook was waiting patiently, and the look on his face when he saw her in the dress gave her some amount of confidence as she walked out.
"You look beautiful."
Y/N knew he wasn't lying. He'd never lie when it came to matters of beauty. But she also knew that he wasn't exaggerating. Rook, as dramatic and odd as he was, wasn't someone to exaggerate beauty. He simply spoke his mind, and that was something she respected about him.
"It certainly is a nice dress, but I can't pay for it Rook. I didn't bring enough." Y/N told him with a sad smile.
"Who said anything about you paying? I have already paid for the dress. All that you need to do is wear it!" Rook stated happily.
Despite being short of money most if not all the time, and bribing NRC's headmaster for payments (which in all honesty were well-deserved, taking into account all the work she did for him) amongst other things, Y/N had a certain respect for money. And a certain pride regarding money too. Especially when her friends were involved.
"Rook, I can't do that. This is way too expensive, and I'm not going to make you pay for it. I can't repay you, so I'm just not going to get this dress."
"Once again, Trickster, the dress has already been paid for. I didn't do this expecting you to pay me back, so don't worry about it, and just look like your prepossessing self."
Y/N could feel her eyes tear up again for the second time that day.
Before Rook could tell her to not ruin her face with tears, Y/N jumped him in a suffocating hug (one not unlike Floyd's infamous hugs) and thanked him profusely. Smiling, he looked down at her and wrapped her in an embrace of his own. She deserved much for everything she did around the school and more, and if this could be even a little helpful, he'd do it again.
"Now, now, don't cry Y/N." At the use of her name, she looked up at Rook's face. "You have something to attend, don't you? You can't do that if you're busy crying in a mall with me, now can you?"
Sniffing, Y/N nodded, and pulled back from Rook, wiping her tears away (luckily there weren't as much as before). "Did Vil tell you I was going on a date with Leona?" She asked.
"A date? With Leona!?" Rook exclaimed, much to Y/N's surprise. "I never thought I would see the day come!"
"Wait, so you didn't know?"
"My dear trickster, how could I have possibly known?"
With one more suspicious glance, Y/N dropped the subject.
"When is your date Trickster?"
"It's in less than an hour from now. Why?"
"And hour!? We have no time left." Rook cried out. Without missing a beat, he dragged Y/N with him out the store and to a salon that was just a few stores down. Sitting her down, he instructed an employee as to what to do with her (he was very particular when he told the employee to have the dress in perfect shape). For a second, he vaguely resembled Vil. This time, Y/N paid for the services herself, not taking no from Rook as an answer.
When all was said and done, Rook stood in front of Y/N, absorbing all the details, trying to figure out of it was all enough. A tiny bit of fuzz was on her shoulder, so he plucked it off smoothly before she could question anything.
"I-Thank you Rook. You have no idea how much this all means to me." Y/N told Rook.
"I would do anything for love to prevail *mon filou. And I would do even more for you." Rook told Y/N.
Smiling at Rook, she said, "You were right. I do like Leona. No, I love him. A lot. And by the looks of it, he likes me too!" Giving him one more hug, Y/N walked away, purse in hand, excited for her date with Leona.
"Ah, young love~ Whatever could be more beautiful?" Rook asked himself in a cheerful voice as he watched Ramshackle's Prefect walk off into the distance, one step at a time to her fairytale ending. Rook felt himself proud of reaching the mall just in time to help Y/N (her purse certainly helped in tracking her down).
That's two lovebirds he's helped today!
Turning back around and wandering through the mall, Rook wondered who he'd be helping next.
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Author's Note: As you can see from the dates, I really took my time with this one. When I first started writing this last year, I was planning to write about Leona and Reader's date, or more specifically, how the date was arranged and all that fun stuff, but when I sat down to write today, it just went in a completely different direction. I've never really incorporated Rook into my writings (and if I did, he's there for like three sentences), but unpredictably, he ended up playing a larger role in this fanfic. If you'd like a third part to this where we find out about how Leona and Y/N even ended up agreeing to go on a date with each other, or perhaps we find out who Rook helped or is going to help, feel free to let me know!
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Heart of Gold - Part 2
Miranda Hilmarson x Mounted!Police!Fem!Reader
HELLO EVERYONE <3 I finally managed to finish Part 2 of my Miranda Hilmarson Fic. I'm sorry it took so long but it's finally here. I hope you enjoy this little addition to the first part. I'm not yet sure if I should make a 3rd part but if you guys want one, I'll look into it <3
Huge thanks to @weemssapphic for proofreading this part <3
Disclaimer: English is not my first language!
Warnings: Talk of bullying, talk of death and dying, descriptions of blood, death and being shot (I'm sorry... this is an angsty one)
Authors Note: Hurt/Comfort with a shit ton of Angst. I hope you guys enjoy <3
Words: 2'400+
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“Why do you care so much about me?”
You look at her, unable to answer the question. Should you tell her? Should you take the risk and risk the friendship you’ve built? Miranda looked at you intensely, chest heaving from being dragged around. You tried to collect your thoughts but just as you were about to answer, Miranda dropped her head, looking down at her feet. A sigh of defeat left her lips.
“It’s a joke to you as well isn’t it?” she asked through clenched teeth, tears threatened to spill from her eyes any second. You looked at her in shock.
“No! No Mir that's not the case!!! That's not the case at all-”
“Save it!” Miranda looked up at you, eyes red, tears wetting her face as she furiously wiped the back of her hand over her cheeks. 
“I should have known… you’re like everyone else… I- I should have never trusted you…” and with that, Miranda stormed out before you could say anything else. 
The defeat on her face, the betrayal, the way she looked so full of hope only for it to be replaced by pain, a pain you felt right in this moment with her. How could you have fucked up this bad… you should have just told her… you should have just SHOWN her. You had to catch up to her. Without further hesitation your feet carried you through the stables towards the parking lot only to see her drive off in a hurry.
“Shit… SHIT'' Defeated, you return to the stables to gather your things and leave. You’d see her tomorrow! You’d get your chance to talk to her again… hopefully.
However, luck wasn’t on your side. Miranda had started avoiding you, leaving the room when you entered, walking the other direction when you walked towards her. And this had been going on for a few weeks now.
It hurt. 
You knew better than to follow her but… it hurt. After a particularly busy day, you went to get some drinks with your colleagues, wishing you were with Miranda. A heavy sigh left your lips as you absentmindedly picked at the label of your beer. You felt sick…
“Hey guys… I’m gonna go home… I don’t feel too well…”
You stood, handing your beer to your friend, and gathered your things. Of course you were met with protest but you just ignored it, and soon enough they figured that it might be best to just let you leave. So that is what you did. 
Exiting the pub you felt the cold breeze on your skin. The air was a bit chilly and it smelled like rain. Cool darkness enveloped you and you stood there for a minute, just feeling the breeze on your skin and the smell of rain. When you opened your eyes again, that’s when you saw her. 
Miranda anxiously stepped on a cigarette she’d just finished. It looked as if she were considering coming into the pub or not. She hadn’t seen you yet. Should you approach her? Go back inside? Before a choice could be made, she looked up, making eye contact. You were expecting her to run away, to flee from your loving and pained gaze once again but…. She didn’t. She held your gaze, waiting. 
“Miranda-“
“Can we walk?”
She interrupted. You looked at her, surprise painted all over your face as she just waited for you to reply. Quickly, you nodded, walking over to her and following.
“Miranda… I am so sorry. If I have done something that hurt you please just let me know I-“
“Don’t apologise… I should-“
The blonde took a deep breath, shoving her hands in her vest pockets and looking down at her feet, kicking some stones around as she walked with you. She had missed you… but she needed time to think.
“I should have let you answer that night… I am sorry…”
Suddenly, Miranda stopped, looking out over the beach and the dark ocean. You stood beside her, your eyes trained on her face. You had to tell her how you feel. You had to let her know that she is worthy of love and affection. That she is beautiful, wonderful, perfect. In your eyes, Miranda was perfect. 
“I care because you’re worth it.”
Miranda was avoiding your gaze, but you saw her eyebrows furrow. This just spurred you on more.
“I care because you are worth the time and energy. I care because you are the sweetest and most adorable and kind person on this planet. I care because you lit up my world when I met you the very first time. You make my days better and I cannot fall asleep or wake up without thinking of you.”
Miranda looked down at you, her eyes, usually so blue and bright now seemed grey, and were welling up with tears. Carefully, you took her hand into yours, giving her a reassuring squeeze with your hands.
“I care because I fell in love with you…. Miranda… I love you”
You said it, admitted your feelings, and it sent a rush of anxiety down your spine, leaving its sticky tingling feeling behind. You were expecting her to leave again, to get upset at you… what you didn’t expect were her lips suddenly pressed against yours, a big hand with long, slim fingers, gently cupping your cheek and pulling you closer.
Miranda had hoped you would say that. It took her a while to realise… several weeks. She simply wasn’t used to it. No one had ever shown her the care and affection you had. And she found herself falling for you. Afraid you would hate her if she admitted it, she kept quiet.
But that night…. She had to know. 
However, as soon as the question left her lips, she felt herself getting anxious. She was terrified. What if you said you pitied her and that’s why you ‘acted’ like you cared so much? So, before you could answer, she pulled away. She ran away. To protect herself, not noticing how much her actions had hurt you. Until she saw how your smile faded, how your eyes stopped shining, how you seemed to have lost your joy. And she hated herself for hurting you so much. 
“I am sorry Y/N… I… love you too. I was just anxious and-“
Now it was your turn to interrupt her with a kiss. Your arms wrapping around her shoulders, holding her close. You didn’t need to hear more. It was no secret that Miranda was oftentimes anxious. Who could blame her… she’s been through a lot. 
“I’ve heard everything I needed to hear Mir… you don’t have to apologise. You’re okay. I am not mad at you. I’m glad you told me…”
Your whispers and words of affirmation and understanding caused Miranda to completely dissolve. Her tears flowing freely as she held onto you, finding comfort in your embrace. She did not know how she deserved you, but she would be an idiot if she’d ever let go of you. You loved her… and she loved you. 
And so it happened that the two of you became the cutest couple at the police station (at least according to you two. Who cares what the others think).
More often than not, you brought Miranda a coffee, some treats or even flowers. You started spending almost every waking moment together, only separating to go home and sleep. 
Both of you wanted to take it slow. There was no hurry. You weren’t going anywhere and neither was Miranda. The love you experienced in each other's embrace and kisses was enough to keep you two glued together. No force could ever part you… not even a routine patrol that ended more dangerous for you than expected. 
It was like every Wednesday afternoon.
You were patrolling the promenades before going back to the stables and calling it a day. Already excited to spend time with Miranda after work, you did not realise that the altercation you rode towards, would end up being almost fatal for you. 
Of course it had to happen.
You knew you shouldn’t have split up with your colleague. But there was no harm in thinking that if he took the lower road, you could take the higher one and still be close enough to hear each other. 
The second you realised that there was a gun pointed at you, you started calling for your colleague. Reaching for your own gun, you suddenly felt a piercing pain in your shoulder. A BANG was heard and then your ears were ringing. The pain in your shoulder increased, dragging its disgusting talons over your neck to the back of your head, digging deep into your skin. You started feeling faint, head pounding and everything started looking fuzzy and far away. At first you hadn’t even noticed that your horse was galloping towards the stables. Your hand just instinctively grabbed onto the horn of the saddle and your grip tightened. 
Artemis was huffing, whining and neighing the closer she got to the stables. A place she knew was safe. She felt your shift in energy, understanding the severity of the situation more than you. The smart horse she was, she stopped in front of the station, making a ruckus to get the other officers’ attention.
Miranda looked out the window, expecting to see you waving at her but what she saw, sent her into a panic. She rushed out to you and Artemis, gently pulling you from your mare and asking you questions. What exactly she asked, you didn’t know… you didn’t hear. All you knew was that you were in Miranda’s arms and it soothed the pain you were experiencing. 
Meanwhile Miranda tried to stay calm. She had called the ambulance, staying with you and holding you close, trying to stop the bleeding. Her hands, your shirt and her sleeves were covered in thick, dark red, warm blood. Your blood. 
Miranda tried really hard to keep it together, to stay strong for you, but she couldn’t keep the sobs in. Tears coated her soft pale skin, huffs and sobs escaped her lips, frantic breathing accompanied by the fear that she could lose you. She couldn't lose you… Miranda wouldn’t survive without you, she knew that. She needed you. She loved you. 
The next few hours were a blur for Miranda. You were unconscious, the medics doing everything they could to keep you alive as she accompanied you, holding your hand throughout the entire drive to the hospital. There, you were separated. 
But Miranda didn’t let up. 
She waited, and waited, and waited. Minutes turned to hours, hours filled with anxiety, fear and pain. She did not even wash up, her hands, shirt and trousers still soaked in your blood. Now cold, sticking to her skin, as if death itself latched onto her. 
It wasn’t until 4 hours later that the nurse finally went to fetch Miranda. She did ask her to at least wash her arms before bringing her to your room. There you laid, unconscious, but breathing. You were breathing. Miranda immediately went to your side, gently brushing some hair from your face, caressing your cheek, and holding your warm, soft hand. 
“I need you… please don’t leave me just yet…” She whispered.
“I love you. Come back to me…” She begged.
“I can’t lose you..”
She breathed. 
Miranda hoped you would hear her. She would tell you about all the things she wanted to experience with you, places she wanted to show you and future plans she had dreamed about. For more than 48 hours, Miranda sat by your side. The nurses had to force her to at least eat and drink something if she wasn’t going to sleep or go home to get changed. She sat by your side and wouldn’t leave. It was as if Miranda was in a frozen state. Holding your hand and pressing kisses to your cheek and forehead. She was only ripped from her trance as the heart monitor flatlined. She shot up, calling out for help, screaming, begging, sobbing, but no one heard. She was alone… and you were gone… —
“Miranda?”
Suddenly, Miranda felt a soft hand on her arm, another on her cheek, wiping away tears that escaped her eyelids once more. She opened her eyes, finding herself in her bedroom. Her breathing ragged, panic evident on her face, she started looking around. Where were you? “Miranda… darling… It’s okay. It was just a bad dream…” Her eyes shot to the direction of the voice, and she started sobbing. You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her close and kissing her head. Miranda’s arms immediately wrapping around your middle, so as not to hurt your healing shoulder. She pulled you close and that's when she realised where she was. Miranda was at home, in her bed, with you holding her, consoling her.
“I am here Mir. I won’t go anywhere… I promised you I won’t.” Your soft voice brought her peace. This wasn’t the first time she awoke in this manner. Once the nurses and doctors were happy with your recovery, they allowed you to go back home. Miranda insisted you live with her, so she could take care of you and protect you. Of course you said yes. But ever since then, Miranda was plagued by nightmares. One worse than the other, the outcome was the same every time. She couldn’t save you. She couldn’t protect you. You were gone, leaving her alone in her pain and loneliness. 
But it was just a dream. Every night she would feel your arms around her, your soft voice rousing her from the hell she fell into. Every night, you would reassure her that you were still there, that you survived, and that it was thanks to her quick thinking. Every night, you would dry her tears and have her fall asleep with her head on your chest, hearing your heartbeat. You were alive, and you were with her. It would take some time for the two of you to overcome the trauma, the horrors both of you faced each night. But you would overcome it. Together. Miranda could overcome it with your love, and you with hers. And her heart of Gold.
So, just like every night, you reminded her of that. A kiss pressed to her head as you noticed her relaxing in your arms, sleep ready to take her again. You whispered, so as not to wake her again: “Miranda?”
“Hm?”
“I love you”
------
End Note: As always, reblogs, comments and likes are well appreciated <3 Taglist: @vivendraws @erinyaya @phexyce @aemilia19 @weemssapphic @gela123 @winterfireblond @Xxmecverxx @unicorniusfallapatorious @gwenistheloml @yourgaeyisshowing @readingtheentrails
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lordoftime01 · 20 hours
Text
(A rewrite of sorts)
Yang: Lying in bed with her head handing off the side
Yang: "Ugh! It's been soooo boring since team JNPR got sent on that mission several months ago."
Ruby: "Hey, at least there was a bright side. Since it was Miss Goodwitch that went with then, Combat Class has become a free time."
Weiss: "I still can't believe that Professor Ozpin had Miss Goodwitch go with them. Especially considering her condition."
Yang: "Oh don't worry I'm su-" Interrupted and startled by a loud yelling.
???: "OH MY BROTHERS!!! IT FEELS SO GOOD TO BE BACK!"
???: "It is nice to be back, yeah. Those Grimm just never seemed to end"
???: "Oh yeah, and if it hadn't been for fearless leader unlocking his semblance, we could have been goners"
______
Yang/Ruby/Weiss: In their heads 'Wait, Vomit Boy/Jaune/That dunce finally unlocked his semblance"
______
???: "And even better that he saved his and Miss Goodwitch's baby"
______
Yang: "Wait, not only did Jaune unlock his semblance, but he also knocked up the goodbitch our teacher?!"
______
???: "Thank you... Nora for reminding me of that... really appreciate it"
Yang/Ruby/Weiss: Huddle around their dorm room door to be able to hear much better. They heard Nora, Ren, and Pyrrha but haven't heard Juane yet.
Nora: "You know Pyrrha, you have no one to blame but yourself"
Ren: "Yeah. Nora and I told you that if you didn't tell him soon-"
Nora: "Then someone else was going to be his"
Pyrrha: "You're right. I took too long to confess my feelings. And I lost him to our teacher of all people. There has to be some sort of law against that." The pain and hurt in her voice was evident
Pyrrha: Punches the wall hard enough for it, and the surrounding area to rattle a bit.
Blake: Burst out of the bathroom wearing only a towel, pen and notebook in hand. Bowling over her teammates and slamming the door open, startling _NPR
Blake: "What's this I hear about Jaune knocking up Miss Goodwitch!? Give me the details, leave nothing out"
Nora: "Ok so apparently Jaune Jaune and Miss Goodwitch banged each other on Velentine's day." She had a shit-eating grin on her face as the sound of Pyrrha crunching JNPR's door handle was heard.
Nora: "And from what I know, the two of them had been together together for a few months before that." She proceeded to go into great detail of all that she knew.
Glynda: Carefully sits down while groaning. One hand on the chair to help stabilize, the other hand on her extended belly.
Jaune: Comes in with some tea and quickly rushes over to help her
Glynda: "Don't worry Jaune, I had it." Gives Jaune a peck on the lips
Glynda: "Thank you though. I really appreciate it"
Jaune: "You really shouldn't be moving yourself so much. We already had that close call with the Beringel." Pours Glynda some tea before giving it to her.
Jaune: "Ozpin has even told you are to take it easy." He sits beside Glynda and wraps one arm around her shoulder, pulling her close while he places his free hand over Glynda's hand and belly, intertwining his fingers with hers.
Glynda: "Oh, but I'm sure there's so much paperwork that is backed up. Paperwork that I'm 100% sure that Ozpin didn't do and so will just push the work load onto me." Her voice had a slight whine to it as she sipped her tea.
Jaune and Glynda just sat there in silence, enjoying each other's company. Their eyes widened in surprise when they felt their child moving inside Glynda's womb, a smile on their faces as they just basked in the moment.
The two of them hadn't been able to get much alone time during the mission. Now was the perfect chance for them to make up for lost time. Glynda turned her head and gently pressed her lips against Jaune when there was a loud knock on the door.
Glynda: Let's out a groan as their alone time was interrupted. She struggles a bit to get up from her position
Jaune: Gently, yet firmly, keeps her seated as he gets up to see who it was. At the door was Ozpin with a large stack of papers.
Ozpin: "Ah hello, Mr Arc. If you would be so kind as to hand Glynda these papers. I'd be ever so grateful."
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kawaiianimeredhead · 1 year
Text
.
#i think its probably quite mean#especially since i dont know really anything going on#but i am fucking tired of one of my roommates being home#especially because my other roommate her now ex has a dog who stays in the others bedroom#and the dog absolutely can tell the other is home so she has been barking significantly more than she has been#had* been because she wants attention#which the one roommate knows about and i think in general isnt super up for regularly caring for the dog so shes ignoring her#and its just frustrating#like i get its her home and shes in her bedroom so besides the dog thing what harm is it doing#but it also keeps fucking with Kenzie because she keeps wandering off to go bother the dog#or get a chance to go right into her room the moment she opens it#both because kenzie likes her and because she constantly has food somewhere in the room usually like trash#so kenzie could be eating Anything because shes not wwtching her or thinks its harmless#she also had various medications that we have no real way of knowing isnt dropping onto the floor at points where Kenzie could find#and its just annoying#i have to keep making sure i know where kenzie is because i dont want her getting into anything#i cant keep the door open because 1 nick doesnt like it open and also says its not fair because we ask them to keep theres closed#which is kinda bullshit because one is holding a dog and the other doesnt actually always keep her door close#and 2 i have to keep it closed so if she lets the dog out the dog isnt going into our room and scarfing down kenzies food#and not that im great at vacuuming or do it often but i certainly dont want to now because i hate the noise and dont want to add noise#and i am just tired#the vibes in the house suck and i am so tired of living with people and a dog thats not mine#dont mind me#tag rambles#shes going through shit but it still annoys me
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Text
They Help You Practice
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Task Force 141 asks you to be the bait for a secret assignment. So, they make you audition for the role. You end up getting gangbanged by the whole team and loving it!
TW: gangbang, vaginal sex, anal sex, oral sex, gay sex, degradation, explicitly consensual, spit? please check AO3 link at bottom for full tag list
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You let yourself into his office, shutting the door behind you, and stood before him at a sharp parade rest, waiting to be informed about your fate. 
“Sergeant, thank you for coming. There is no need for formalities. This is just a chat.”
You moved to a more relaxed rest and nodded. 
Price continued,
“This is going to be quite the ask. Would you be willing to perform duties which are…outside of your current scope?”
“Yes, sir,” you responded just as you should have, as you were trained to, but Price was hoping you would understand exactly what you would be getting yourself into. 
“I need you to go undercover to a Konni restaurant cover in Minsk…as bait. Am I making myself clear?”
A pause. But, to your credit, you didn’t flinch. You did raise an eyebrow and ask a clarifying query,
“What kind of bait, sir?”
“Our next target, Dimitri Sokolov, will be at the Black Pearl bar in Minsk tomorrow, and we won’t get a better chance to lure him away from his bodyguards. He almost never makes public appearances, so he must be making an exception. Sokolov has,” he paused for a moment, trying to find the words, making general, suggestive motions over his own chest, “particular tastes in his women. You just so happen to have the right profile for the job. Again, this is not an order, Sergeant. I need to know if you’re willing to accept.”
“Yes, sir,” you tried to appear fully in control. You knew your breasts were large, but you had never been asked to use them as a weapon. There was a first time for everything, you supposed. You would do anything to help the team.
The captain loved your composure. He knew you would be perfect for the job. 
“Good. Let's brief the team.”
Price walked with you down to the meeting room at the end of the hall and found Soap, Ghost, and Gaz sitting in the desk chairs every way except the way they were designed, lounging over the furniture like big cats, melting into the various surfaces they encountered. They fixed themselves when the captain walked in. 
“Gentlemen,” Price opened, “this is our bait. Her code name is Rabbit. Rabbit, this is Soap, Ghost, and Gaz.”
You nodded politely and resumed a semi-formal rest position. 
The men had noticed you around the base but hadn’t been formally introduced. You were a desk rider, but still, you were hard to miss. The baggy military clothing had almost managed to conceal a bounty of soft curves, but your lush body persisted beneath it, and the outlines of your feminine form made heinous suggestions in the fabric. Unfortunately for them, you didn’t hang around the gym or the common area enough for them to have generated a fully accurate image of your enticing body, but they were certain it was delicious. They watched you like peckish wolves. Waiting hungrily, shifting in their seats in anticipation. For what, you weren’t sure.
“Rabbit is going undercover for us to take down Sokolov, Vladimir Makarov’s new shipping controller. He has a particular penchant for,” Price paused just long enough for anyone to understand his true meaning, “certain types of women. Rabbit fits the mold, so all she needs is the gear and the training.”
Price cut open three large cardboard boxes to reveal slinky dresses and a number of questionable garments. 
“I’ll need to try them on,” you offered, “Do you want me to get changed, Captain?”
“Sounds good. Come back in when you’re all set,” he smiled, enjoying the view as you left the room. 
Ghost crossed his arms, clearly with quite a mouthful to share and but refusing to. Gaz stared down at the knife he was playing with, bashful. But Soap would not be cowed, and as soon as you left, he said,
“Feeding her to the sharks like bait, Captain? I dinnae ken any of us was so expendable.”
“Soap,” Price warned, “the sergeant is more than capable of handling -”
“I wasnae askin’ about the lassie’s capabilities. Send her in to slit his throat with a knife in her hand, for all I care. But to send her in unguarded, unarmed? No. It’s not right,” Soap crossed his arms. 
“He’s got a point, Captain. Why take the risk of losing an operative?” Ghost spoke coldly. 
Price furrowed his brow at their short-sightedness,
“And do what, exactly? Have the Russians scurry back underground at the first hint of an assassination attempt? We’ve failed that mission three times, boys. I’ll not have this go south again.”
“I’m sure she is capable, Captain. But, is Rabbit committed to this plan?” Gaz asked. 
“Sure,” Price tried to sound reassuring, “we spoke in my office. She agreed to come down here. Besides, she’ll have you three as backup. You won’t let anything happen to her.”
Gaz did not seem convinced. All three soldiers wore a scowl on their faces, and even though Ghost’s was obscured by his mask, his body language communicated his displeasure. Price carefully ashed his cigar to renew the glowing tip, taking a long drag while they waited for you to return. 
You were back without too much of a delay, but when you walked in, your colleagues were visibly stunned. They didn’t recognize you at first. A short black dress had replaced your camouflage fatigues, showing off miles and miles of smooth, shining skin. Your thick thighs stretched the silky fabric, and your ass threatened to escape from the edge of the dress with every step you took. Your new heels clacked sharply against the cold concrete, making your legs flex and tense, showing off your well-formed musculature. You did not miss squat day very often, apparently.
But, the assets you were trying to use for this particular mission were the real stars of the show. Your heavy breasts battled against the low dip of the dress, providing a deep display of cleavage, hinting at pink perky nipples hidden just below the line of the black silk. Your tits jiggled as you struck the floor with each careful step, making the room full of men breathe a little heavier at the sight. 
Soap’s big mouth betrayed them all,
“Christ in Heaven. There you are, bonnie.”
Ghost backhanded him hard on the shoulder. Price glowered.
You had put on a little more makeup than might be socially acceptable in an office setting, making the suggestive outfit complete. Finally, as you stood at the head of the meeting table, you took out your task force regulation braid and pulled your fingers through your hair, breaking up your long waves as they spilled down your neck and back. 
You smiled,
“Well, do I look the part?”
Price coughed, inhaling too much smoke on accident. Gaz hadn’t moved since you walked in the room. He just stood there, dumbfounded, arms held at an odd angle as if frozen in time. Ghost cleared his throat to save them,
“Yes, Rabbit. You clean up very nicely, don’t you?”
“Well,” you sighed, “this is sort of the raunchiest outfit I found in the box. I was going to go with something a bit more casual, but I thought I’d better be noticeable if we’re going to nail this asshole.”
Gaz finally came out of his locked state, aghast,
“Noticeable? Sweetheart, this is more than noticeable. Goddamn.”
“You think it’s too much? I don’t really know what would get his attention,” you shrugged, looking shy as you confessed, “I don’t get asked out very often.”
“You could go out with me, lassie,” Soap edged his way closer to her, slinking around the table, “We’d have a hell of a time, so we would.”
“Don’t listen to Johnny,” Ghost stood in front of him a bit, snaking an arm around your cinched waist, “He thinks takin’ his birds to the dog races is a good date idea.”
“Well, isn’t it?” Soap protested.
Gaz grabbed your hand tenderly, examining your fingers like they were a precious work of art,
“Maybe you could come with me to Berlin next weekend, babes. There’s a killer music festival going on, and we could have a really good time. How does that sound?”
“Boys,” Price interrupted, “I’m sure she has plenty of work to finish here; can’t just be galavanting off with you muppets. In fact, why don’t you stop by my office after this mission, bunny rabbit, and we can work on your projected shipment dates together? You know, I used to be a logistics man, myself.”
Ghost rolled his eyes at the Captain,
“Please, logistics? You drove a truck back and forth on base delivering food to the canteen twenty years ago. I’ve read your file.”
The men all started talking over each other, forgetting your presence in favor of coming out on top of the dog pile. You smiled to yourself, eager to push more of their buttons. 
Slipping one skinny strap down your shoulder, you spoke through the din,
“You know, this dress can be strapless. Do you think Sokolov wants it up…” you locked eyes with Captain Price, seeing his throat swallow hard as he watched you in the silence you had created, “or down?”
The other soldiers were stunned, unable to look away as you slipped both straps off of your shoulders and tucked them into your dress. One strap was still partially visible, and Ghost slowly moved one gloved finger up your arm, tracing your skin lightly, and finished tucking it in for you. He lingered, caressing the side of your breast as he removed it. 
“You gonna be able to seduce this Russian bastard, Sergeant? Or, do you need some practice?” Price asked with a low, threatening tone. 
The whole room held its breath waiting for your answer. The four men towered over your short frame, casting shadows over you like black spells, hoping you would relinquish your control over them. All of their eyes watched as you slowly, achingly lifted a hand and traced it up Gaz’s canvas pant leg, stopping when you discovered the heavy head of his cock, hardening down toward his knee. With the back of your hand, you pet it like a skittish animal, reveling in its smoothness and warmth. Your eyes found his as they fluttered, blood rushing through his body in a panic,
“I think I could use some practice, Captain.”
You felt Gaz’s rod leap at your answer. He bent down to kiss your mouth, slanting his lips fiercely against you. 
Soap came up behind you, gripping your ass through the silk of your dress roughly,
“We’ll help you, lass. We’ll help you practice, won’t we, boys? Jesus, you smell so good,” he buried his face in your neck and sucked against your skin. 
Ghost found your other hand and held it tightly, using it to steady you from Soap and Gaz’s assault. Price moved Gaz out of the way, earning himself a glare, and peeled the dress off of you in one fell swoop, revealing the expanse of uncovered skin underneath. 
“Holy shite,” the captain breathed, whispering his lament, “Sergeant, where are your knickers?”
“I guess I forgot them, Captain,” you blushed, batting your eyes up at him, doing actual damage to his psyche.  
He didn’t have much time to savor the moment though because Ghost was shoving him out of the way to pick you up by the thighs to lay you on the table. The giant knelt between your legs, pulling you by the knees until your ass was hanging off of the low wooden planks. He lifted his mask just enough for you to see him lick his lips over sharp, white teeth before feasting on your wet folds, letting the cloth of the balaclava hide most of his efforts. 
Ghost created a soothing, yet electrically wet warmth in your core which made you keen loudly, only to be muffled by Price’s smoky kiss. You could taste the burned tobacco on his tongue and your skin was scraped by his thick mustache. 
Gaz’s voice got your attention. He had freed his cock from his pants and started to stroke it, standing by your side and playing with your breasts with his free hand as Price savaged your mouth. He tugged on your nipple and told you,
“You know, Rabbit, you’re going to have to really put yourself out there tomorrow. Show him these gorgeous tits of yours. Make him think you’re hungry for his cock,” Gaz rubbed his head, hard and hungry for you, “Can you do that? Let us see how good you can be, princess. We need you to ace this mission”
You felt Ghost dip his hard cock between your pussy lips, distracting you from Price’s tongue in your mouth. You broke the kiss and looked up at Ghost, dazed, into his masked face,
“I promise, sir. I’ll be good,” you looked around at all four of the men, reaching out to grab Soap’s cock that he was stroking for you, “Will you show me how?”
You didn’t give Soap time to answer. The Scot gasped as you devoured him, sucking him down into your throat, making yourself gag as he fucked your throat in and out in long thrusts. He tangled his fingers in your hair. Ghost matched his rhythm below you, pounding his cock into your wet hole. You thought you could feel something on his dick. Was he pierced? You could see your slick gleam on his lips and chin where his mask was still askew. 
“Yeah,” Ghost smiled haughtily, “you like those piercings, don’tcha baby?”
You didn’t have a chance to respond. Price pulled your head away from Soap’s dick, kissing your mouth lewdly again before giving you an order,
“Open your mouth wide for me, love.”
You obeyed. Then, he spit onto your tongue, warm and bubbling, before shoving your face down onto his own fat rod. It made your lips burn with its cruel girth, even though it felt relatively soft, and you thought fleetingly that there was no way your poor little cunt was going to be able to take him, Ghost was big enough to be filling, but the captain was carrying around a true weapon. 
He pulled your head off of him roughly, watching as the strings of drool connected your tongue to his cockhead, growling in short, lustful breaths. 
“Alright, boys. Make sure she’s good and ready for me. You know the drill,” Price barked, and then he was gone. 
The drill? You looked for him, confused, and only found Gaz, who was now slapping his long dick on your cheek, knocking for entrance. He let you take his head into your mouth, having a much easier time than you did with your captain. You bobbed your head up and down dutifully, not realizing just how long his cock was until he tried to force it into your throat. He held you down for a moment, moaning shamelessly, before releasing you to let you breathe. 
“You alright, babes?” He laughed.
You nodded, moaning. Ghost took himself out of your wetness and pulled you off of the table. Soap hopped up to lay where you were, and you moved to ride him, making sure to get right to the edge with him to let Ghost back in. You’d never taken two men at once, much less four, but there was a first time for anything, and you were a quick learner. 
Spearing yourself onto Soap felt like someone had created a warm, custom, living dildo just for you. He was a perfect fit, and you both cried out in pleasure from the sensation. Ghost slapped your ass, hard, and you screamed, clenching around Soap’s cock. Soap moaned darkly. 
“Keep suckin’ that big cock, baby. Need to teach you how to multitask,” Ghost threatened as he bent to eat your asshole, wiggling his tongue into the tight rim to gain entrance.
He started to fuck you with it, his long wet muscle moving in and out as Soap thrust himself up into you, hitting your g-spot every single time like magic. You took Gaz back into your mouth and tried your best to take him deeper into your throat. Every time you did, you would gag, and your muscles would involuntarily clench, and the whole room would moan. You started to come, feeling yourself flood around Soap, whose mouth had latched onto one of your nipples, suckling like he was trying to feed from you. 
You could see Price out of the corner of your eye. He had lit another cigar and was smoking it, stroking himself, still not at his full capacity. You were scared of him. He looked like some sort of demon, breathing fire, as big around as your forearm. He wasn’t as long as Gaz, nor as delightfully curved as Soap, but he made your legs shake without even touching you. When he did touch you, rising from his chair when he wanted to fondle you, pinching a nipple, pulling your hair, forcing your head down on Gaz, it lit you up like you were kerosene and he was the match. 
Suddenly, Ghost’s tongue was gone, only to be replaced by his heavy head. He was going to fuck your ass, and there was nothing you could say to stop him. You’d only done anal once or twice before, and you knew it might hurt. He went so slowly that you could feel each and every piercing as he popped them into you, one by one. Then, as he pulled back out, you felt them pop as each one went through you again, raking himself in and out gently, as careful with you as he could be. When you were more pliant, he began to throw his weight into each thrust, and Soap started to groan below you from the sensation. 
“Don’t you fuckin’ dare, Johnny boy,” Price threatened, his voice full of stern warning. 
You weren’t sure what he was warning him about until Soap pulled his cock out of you and came all over your stomach, Ghost’s thrusts making the fluid smear between you two, rubbing your bodies together. Ghost pulled out next, and you felt his hot, thick ropes spray onto your ass cheeks, melting down your thighs. 
Gaz abandoned your mouth and took over for Soap, feeding himself inch by inch until he found your end, leaving some of his cock out in the cold. He fucked you faster than the others, not caring to move out of the way as Soap rolled off of the table, whining like a whore the whole time. 
Captain Price came around to your face, holding your chin in his hand, looking down at you without pity,
“Garrick’s got a long cock, don’t he, love? You’re being so good for my men, such a good girl. Sweet little slut, hm? You’re going to do so well on this mission. Those areholes won’t know what hit ‘em.”
He grabbed your hair fiercely, hurting your scalp, forcing you to turn and look back at Gaz. Price took a long puff from his cigar, blowing it past your face, 
“Baby, he could fuck you for a hundred years. He’s not gonna come until you scream his name.”
You heard Gaz moan louder at Price’s suggestion, so you did. You screamed for him over and over, not caring who might have heard you, begging for him to come in you. 
“He’s not allowed to come in you, love,” Price kissed your open panting mouth, “But, don’t worry. It’s about to be my turn, and you’ll be feeling my fuckin’ come drip out of your cunt all night long.”
Price’s voice made your blood run cold with fear. He wasn’t making threats. Those were clearly promises. Predictions of the future. His cock was tucked back into the band of his pants, but it lay in wait there like a serpent, eager to strike.
Your heart pounded in your chest as Gaz pulled his long shaft all the way out of you, his come shooting onto your lips and ass, feeling him use his hand to rub it into your skin, making you sticky. Your captain gave him a warning look, and you realized they had done this sort of thing before. Perhaps many times before. As you watched Soap and Ghost comfort each other, breathing close together, touching themselves, you wondered if they ever fucked each other as well. Picturing the four of them rutting into each other made you hungry, deep in your belly, starving to witness such an act. 
Finally, it was your captain’s turn. The look in his eyes made you tremble. You knew he wouldn’t be cruel, not on purpose anyway. He wasn’t a heartless man, but he wasn’t one to hold himself back from what he wanted either. You knew that he would fuck you the way he wanted to, as hard as he wanted to, no matter how much complaining you might do about how his cock would stretch you out - even to the point of pain. 
“On your back, love. Legs up. Spread that pussy open for me,” he commanded. 
You did as he told you, opening yourself up shamelessly, letting your folds spread wide. 
He walked around the table to gaze upon your form, staring at your pink flesh like it was a hot meal, and he was starving. He moaned, rubbing his hand across your sticky mons, 
“Mm, that’s my pretty little Rabbit. Now…” he paused for effect, sinking three fingers into your hole roughly but ever so slowly, twisting his arm as he did, corkscrewing his knuckles into you, “...I want you to understand that there’s a reason I’m last in line, love.”
You cried out from the pressure of his huge hand. It felt like you were going to tear. Then, after a few hard thrusts, he released you. The emptiness you felt was heartbreaking. You looked for him, pleading with your eyes for him to return to you. He pulled his cock free from his waistband, unable to connect his finger to his thumb as he wrapped around it. You whined involuntarily, something animal in you recognizing its fate. 
“Shh, baby, I know,” he drug out his voice, “I know…”
He positioned the heavy shaft on top of your body, measuring himself from base to tip, reaching your navel. As he slapped it against you, it made a loud thudding noise, slamming into your muscles like a fist. Price was so heavy. You’d never even imagined a man could feel like he was pure, warm, thick marble. Your pussy seemed to understand the panic you were feeling, flooding itself, preparing for the upcoming invasion. 
“I’m so fuckin’ eager for you, love,” he slapped you again, quick taps right to your swollen clit.
Then, he put his head inside of you, squeezing himself in. He left it inside of you and started to pump himself with his hand. Between the vibration from his fist and the fact that it felt like you were sitting on the end of a steel bat, you couldn’t hold back your keening, loud and high-pitched. 
Price began the steady, slow march forward, swelling harder and harder by the moment, making your walls feel like they might break. It seemed as if all the blood in your body was rushing down your belly and up your legs, hurrying to your core. 
Your eye were wild, full of your fear, tears forming at the corners of your eyes,
“I can’t, please! I can’t. It’s too big, fuck…”
Price didn’t stop. He just kept feeding himself in and pulling himself back out, wetting his cock’s skin with your soaking hole. 
“You can, and you will, love,” the captain growled, “Now, shut that pretty mouth and take it.”
Your cheeks were wet and your eyes burned, he was so deep within you that it felt like he was thrusting into your throat. You couldn’t breathe.
Suddenly, Soap grabbed your hand, kissing your palm, using his tongue to lick your skin,
“It’s alright, bonnie. I’m here, lass. Breathe with me, lass.”
He bent down to kiss you, but he didn’t quite connect, letting his lips graze yours featherlight. Soap breathed in and breathed out in steady, measured beats. You felt yourself begin to relax. It had such an immediate effect that you heard Price groan, able to slip himself a bit deeper than he had done. 
It was like a chain reaction, the more relaxed you became, breathing with Soap, feeling him suck and lick your nipples softly, the more Price was able to squeeze himself in. 
Finally, you felt his hair at the base of his cock, thick and curled, and as he sighed, he settled inside of you, impossibly pressing against your whole body, making a clear outline of himself in your lower belly. He rubbed it, almost fondly, and you felt every inch of him throb against your walls, his head bullying your womb.
You cried out again from the strain. Ghost and Gaz joined Soap. Gaz began to suckle from your breast on your left side, fondling himself as he did so, getting hard again. Ghost was at your head on the end of the table, and he bent to kiss you, upside down, his tongue running all the way down your throat, long and slippery against your own. 
He pulled away, petting your cheek as Price began to grind himself into you,
“You alright, Rabbit? You enjoying your captain’s cock, hm?”
“Mm hm,” you whispered, whimpering through your tears.
Ghost smiled, and his straight, white teeth looked menacing as he did, sharp, wolf-like,
“I know you are, babe. You’re doing so well. Look at him. You can see him inside of your cunt.”
He lifted your head by your hair, showing you the grotesque shadow of Price’s heavy rod as it shoved itself into you. You reached your hands down to it, feeling it through your skin. It was so unique. His size wasn’t like anything you’d ever experienced, and your body was sending confused signals of passion, your orgasms coming in shattered, broken waves. Feeling incomplete. Too powerful, and yet drawn out like the last note of a symphony. 
As you touched him from the outside, Price moaned aloud for the first time. It shocked you. You looked up at him, managing to meet his eyes.
“Fuck,” you moaned, “You feel so good inside of me, Captain.”
“Mm, yeah?” He replied, using his hands to press yours down onto his cock, making you gasp, “You like it, baby? I’m gonna make sure you never want anybody else.” 
Price reached down and grabbed you by the throat, scaring away Soap and Gaz. He lifted you up, making his dick fit inside of you that much tighter with the change of angle. Then, he began the true performance. He thrust himself in with fast, punishing strokes, slamming himself into you. You were sure you would bruise, and you felt dizzy, almost like you’d pass out. 
Soap was at your side again, holding your hair away from your face,
“Look at you, lassie. Such a good girl for your captain. Takin’ that cock so damn well. Can’t wait to be back inside you, girl.”
He kissed your cheek, palm massaging his dick which was back to full mast, eager again. 
“Alright, Johnny,” Price grinned, “Since you asked so nicely.”
Without any strain whatsoever, Price lifted you up by your hips and held you in the air as he fucked you, bringing you around the table so that Soap could position himself at your asshole. Ghost’s earlier efforts had made it ready for him, and you could very acutely feel how much he was throbbing to be inside of you, pulsing as he fit against Price. 
“Ungh, fuck, lass,” Soap groaned as he began to thrust into you, pistoning with the captain, “He’s got you so tight for me.”
“Yeah? It feels so good. Mmm…” you whimpered, feeling more full than you’d ever been. 
Johnny was holding your breasts as Price lifted you up, brutalizing your pussy. Every thrust felt like an electric pulse, making you cock-drunk and mindlessly pliant. 
They worked in tandem for what felt like eons, pistoning in and out with each other. Eventually, after he had felt you come, Soap addressed his captain directly,
“Sir, I’m…please, sir, can I?”
“Can you what, soldier?” Price grunted through gritted teeth, testing his sergeant.
“Can I come, sir? Please, Cap…”
“Yeah, Johnny. C’mon, mate. Let her feel it.”
“F-fuck! Fuck…” Soap groaned, pushing himself flush against your asshole, pumping his come into you. 
He caught his breath while he was still in you, kissing the nape of your neck, and then he pulled away slowly. He helped Gaz replace him, holding your ass wide apart so his comrade could position himself inside. And just when you thought your poor pussy would have room to breathe, Gaz’s incredibly long shaft was piercing your hole again. 
You felt him sigh, his breath against your neck. He took over holding you up, and Price praised him,
“That’s it, Garrick. She’s all yours. Take it.”
Gaz reacted to his words in a way that made you rethink their entire dynamic. Then, you remembered how he had come when you said his name. He seemed to get harder and harder the more Price praised him, and you wanted to give him that same validation. 
“Gaz,” you whispered, leaning your head back to rest on his shoulder, “It’s so big, baby. It’s like I can feel you in my throat. Oh, Gaz. Gaz!”
“Mm,” Price put his mouth to your neck, groaning, “That’s it, love. Tell him how much you like that long cock.”
“So much, Gaz. It’s so good,” you added. 
Then, Price took his left hand and wrapped it around the back of Gaz’s neck in a moment of surprising intimacy. As Price kissed the front of your throat, Gaz kissed your shoulder and nape. You felt like a peeled fruit being shared between them, a ripped rind, your juicy flesh being split in two; two halves of a ripe orange. 
Gaz lasted longer than Soap had when he fucked your ass, but Price’s attention seemed to spur him on. His movements were slippery, and you could feel the remnants of Soap’s come frothing around your entrance, easing his efforts.
“Captain,” Gaz whined, desperate for more of that approval. 
“C’mon, Kyle. She’s ready for you. Good lad.”
The use of his first name made Gaz thrust up into you with a feverish pace. He cried out as he came, hard, into you. Feeling him fall back out of you made you imagine the tendrils of a giant kraken, seeming to travel forever just to remove himself from your body, slithering out of you with a terrible squelching noise. 
Gaz let Price hold you again, and you turned, expecting Ghost. Price laughed at you, chuckling softly,
“Missing your masked man already?”
You looked at Price, feeling raw and used, waiting for an explanation,
“He’s a little…preoccupied.”
Price laid you back on the table, letting you turn your head to see Ghost, buried in Soap’s asshole up to the hilt, furiously jacking him off, slamming into him a little too roughly for your liking. It was violent, but Soap seemed to be enjoying himself beyond measure. 
Your pussy, though, disagreed with your assessment, clenching around Price’s cock while you watched Simon abuse his friend’s hole. 
“Mm,” the captain moaned, feeling your muscles react, “You like that, love? You wanna be fucked rough like that?”
He didn’t give you a chance to answer. Price wrapped your legs beneath his chest in a full mating press and wrecked you, pounding into your body like a giant fist. You felt your bones shudder beneath his behemoth form. Just when you thought you might puke from how overstimulated you were, you felt him pause. Then, your pussy felt like it was leaking, and it was. Price’s come just kept milking its way out of you, his cock pulsing inside, making your walls throb. 
When he finished, he kissed you on the mouth, almost lovingly, reverently. He started to slide out of you, being extremely careful, and you’d never felt so empty in your entire life. It was as if you’d never be full again. You found yourself whining, whimpering for Price to return. 
“That’s right, pretty girl,” Price smiled, “Never gonna want anybody else, are ya?”
You smiled, shocked and in considerable discomfort. Gaz scooped you up off of the table, cradling you, sitting down with you in his lap in a large chair. He reached down for some water and handed it to you, helping you recover. 
Price was standing with his hands on his hips, panting from his exertion. Ghost and Soap were connected like two hounds, locked together, the Scot cock warming his tall lover, groaning on every exhale. 
“Well, what do you think, lads? Do we have a winner?” Price asked.
“Yeah, we fucking do, Cap,” Gaz pet your head, moving your sweaty hair out of your eyes. 
“Fuck yeah, mate,” Ghost growled, pawing at Johnny again, rabid for him. 
“Hear that, bonnie?” Soap managed to ask, still moaning in little breaths as he was being speared by Ghost, “Got  yourself a new permanent assignment.”
Price walked over to you, grabbing you by the face and kissing you once more,
“You belong to us now, love. Perfect little slut.”
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ragingbookdragon · 2 months
Text
Whoever decided to ring her doorbell in the middle of a midnight thunderstorm was either a serial killer or a poor soul stuck out in the rain. Either way, she still felt sorry enough for whatever poor bastard was stuck outside and decided to open the door, but her expression dropped into annoyance when she saw the man leaning against the doorframe.
“Hey,” he murmurs, gazing at her. “Long time no see.” She starts to close the door and he sticks his foot in it. “Wait, please, don’t close me out.”
“Like you did to me,” she retorts, opening the door. “What do you want, Simon?”
He glances back towards the rainy street and hefts his rucksack higher on his shoulder. “To stay the night.”
“Seriously?”
“Please?” He begs and she pauses—Simon Riley wasn’t a man who begged often.
She gazes at him a moment longer before sighing and opening the door. “Clothes and shoes off at the door. Mask too. You’re soaking wet.”
“What gave you that ‘int? The rainstorm?”
Turning, she shoots him a glare. “I’m letting you stay the night despite you breaking my heart. I’d be a little less sarcastic.”
“Sorry,” he mutters, starting to strip his clothes as he shuts the door behind him. He hands her his clothes, standing in his boxers, then cups the front of himself and asks. “You wouldn’t happen to have any of my clothes shoved in the back of your closet…would you?”
“Bottom drawer in the chest of drawers.”
“You kept my clothes? Aw, you still car—” he falls silent when she glares at him. “Going now.”
As she disappears into the laundry room, she calls out, “What did you do, walk here from the base? You know Birmingham has cabbies, right?”
“I’m not wasting money to drive twenty minutes when I can walk within an hour.”
“You know you’ll get sick from this.”
“Wive’s tale. Can’t get sick from the rain.”
“Smart-ass,” she retorts, shoving his clothes in the dryer.
He comes around the corner, leaning against the doorway with a hand towel thrown over his shoulder, short blonde hair sticking up in all directions, evident he’d dried off with it.
“That is a decorative towel, not for use.” She glares at him. “You know that too.”
“You moved the other towels.”
“Oh, for god’s sake,” she mutters, then looks at him, eyes trailing down to where the sweatpants hung low on his hips. “Put a fucking shirt on, floozy.”
“I couldn’t find one,” he replies with a small smirk. “You must’ve used ‘em for fuel for the fireplace.”
She stands up straight and walks up to him. “Why are you here, Simon?” Her voice is quiet, calm, waiting.
He looks down at his feet, shifts his weight and murmurs, “Missed you.”
“You left me.”
“I know.”
“You start going to therapy yet?” She asks and he purses his lips.
“SAS doesn’t exactly offer therapy, y’know that, right? Not exactly ‘ow we operate.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “You know I asked that friend of yours, what was his name? Soap? He said that the SAS offers routine psychiatric care and therapy. He also happened to mention you conveniently manage to get out of it every single time.”
Simon lets out a grunt and pinches his brow. “Soap can’t mind ‘is own fuckin’ business.”
“He’s your friend. And he was also drunk.” She waves a hand. “Regardless, you haven’t done the one thing I told you that you would have to do if you wanted to come back—no, when you came crawling back.”
“I don’t need therapy. I just want a second chance.” He shifts to his full height, looks at her with a pleading look. “Things were good between us, love. You know they were.”
“Sure, when you weren’t shutting down when you were hurting emotionally or running off to God knows where when you had a mission and didn’t leave me a notice.”
Simon sighs. “I was protectin’ you. I didn’t wanna drag you into all the shit I ‘ave to deal with on a daily. I didn’t want you to have to put up with…all of…”
She gives him a hard look. “Simon Riley, what part of me gave you the notion that I ever need to be protected or sheltered from what you do?”
He swallows thickly and gazes into her eyes. “Love…you’re too pure for me. What I do…you don’t need to know the horrors I’ve committed. You’re…you’re too beautiful for such things.”
“You mean how you kill people with no emotion? How you’ve taken lives with your bare hands? How you shove so much of yourself down into the black hole until there’s no humanity left but ‘Ghost’, the hollow killer?”
Simon stares at her, throat bobbing as he replies, “I can’t drag you to hell with me, it would kill me, love. What if—”
“Do you know the moment I knew I was in love with you?” She interrupts and he falls silent. “I was sick that one day a year ago, bad sick. And you told me not to go into work, but I didn’t listen and when I came home early, I could barely walk straight.” She places a hand on her hip. “And you helped me into the bathroom. Ran a bath in the dark, lit a few candles and you bathed me. Washed my hair. Took care of me. You were so gentle and so loving. Like a priest tasked with cleaning his alter, you cleansed me and made me feel safe.”
He shifts uncomfortably but his body language is anything but repulsed; it’s soft. “You started cryin’ when I was washin’ your hair. Thought I got soap in your eyes. But you said you just felt so loved.” He smiles then. “You were like a kitten really. Could barely lift your head. So tired and weak.”
“Mhm. And then you tucked me into bed and crawled beneath the covers with me. Laid up beside me, never once acted sexual. Just…caring.” She looks at him. “Do you remember what I said to you before I went to sleep?”
“No,” he mutters but he looks up at the ceiling and she knows he’s lying, it’s his tell-tale sign.
She gives him the benefit of the doubt and closes the distance between them, lays her hands on his chest, and says, “I said, ‘This is the real man beneath all that coldness. The real Simon. The one I knew I loved more than anything. No matter what.’”
Simon shudders beneath her touch, feels weak in his knees like he might drop to his and worship at her feet, beg for forgiveness like a sinner in confession. His chest aches, tightening as the words tear violently at his chest, a reminder that he left one of the only good things to ever come into his life, all because he was too afraid to let the walls come down, too afraid to be vulnerable, too afraid to risk being hurt—because if she hurt him, he’d never come back from it. In the end, he’d felt like a fool trying to protect a damsel who never needed saving in the first place; and he was left with the realization that she’d been protecting him the entire time.
“I know what you do, Simon. I know it’s hard, even if you don’t think it is. I know that no matter how you push your humanity down into that hole that it’s still there. I know killing someone takes something from you every time but, Simon, I’m not your enemy. I love you.” Her eyes are calm, but her voice is firm. “And I will not stand on the outside of the lines under some guise of protection. You either be upfront and honest with me about everything or you leave, and you don’t come back.”
Simon knows she’s asking him to choose now, and he feels that creeping anxiety rise in his throat like bile until he manages, “Can…can we talk about everything in the morning?”
She sighs and pulls her hands away. “Yeah, I guess so. Sheets and blankets are in the hall closet. You know where the couch is.”
“You’re not going to let me sleep in the bed?” He sounds incredibly offended.
“Couch, Riley.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, but he can’t help but smile when she sets the bedding out on the couch for him. “Goodnight, love,” he murmurs as she passes, and her shoulders tense and she waves a hand.
“Goodnight, Simon.”
He sits on the couch for a few moments, watches the rain splatter against the window, the clock ticking on the wall, before he pulls out his phone and simply types, “I love you,” and sends it.
It’s quiet for a solid ten seconds before he hears, “You absolute bastard!” From the bedroom followed by, “Get in here!”
Simon gives a victory dance as he clears his throat and attempts to look innocent as he steps into her bedroom; she glowers and points to the other side. “You’re on that side.”
“You can make me,” he retorts and crawls into the middle of the bed, groaning when all the bones in his body snap and pop.
She rolls her eyes and goes back to her book, but after a moment, she shifts against the headboard, getting comfortable again. Simon lifts his head, watches her, then he moves and lays his head in her lap, his arms wrapped around her hips under the pillows behind her. Her eyes rise to the wall in front of her and she stares unamusedly at it before she switches the book into her other hand and rests her right hand at the back of his neck, gently thumbing the juncture of his spine and skull. He groans beneath her touch, shifts himself so that she has control over moving him, body going slack when she scratches her nails into his scalp.
“You’re like a cat,” she mutters, feeling his lips turn up against her thigh.
“Meow,” he mimics, and she snorts, feeling him move until his head is pressed into her stomach, face turned so she can see the right profile.
He watches until she puts the book down on her nightstand and turns into him; they gaze at each other, and his eyes gently shut when she cups his face, thumbs brushing over his features.
“You know I’m giving you another chance, don’t you?”
Simon swallows the lump in his throat and nods. “…yeah.”
“But we’ve gotta change. Or else we’ll end up back where we were before we broke up.”
“I know.” He opens his eyes and looks at her. “I’ve missed you, love.”
“I’ve missed you too,” she murmurs, bending down to press her lips to his forehead. “Doesn’t feel the same without you haunting my apartment.”
His lips turn up in a smile as she pulls back and lays on the pillows; Simon rises and crawls up her body, his nose brushing hers as he whispers, “I’ll do better for you. I’ll change. I swear it.”
“Yeah?”
His gaze turns solemn in a way she’s never seen before as he replies, “On their grave, I will.”
She smiles softly at him, pulls him down so his face is tucked in her neck, and replies, “Get some sleep.”
“I love you,” he mutters against her warm skin, arms tucked safely around her, body weight comfortably on her. “I love you more than the world.”
“I love you,” she says back, reaching up to turn off the lamp on the nightstand.
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pucksandpower · 27 days
Text
Too Sweet
Toto Wolff x Reader
Max Verstappen x ex!Reader
Summary: Max used to think that you’re too sweet for him … now he has to learn to live with the fact that Toto has quite a sweet tooth (inspired by the song that I’ve had on repeat)
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I take my whiskеy neat
The doors to the upscale restaurant swing open and Max strides through, his fingers lightly grazing the small of your back as he guides you inside. The dimly lit interior is bustling with the chatter of well-heeled patrons enjoying their evening repasts. A sharply dressed hostess greets you with a polite smile.
“Good evening, sir. Welcome to The Sazerac Room. Do you have a reservation?”
“Verstappen,” Max replies curtly.
The hostess consults her tablet, then nods. “Right this way please.”
She leads the two of you through the elegant dining room, weaving between tables topped with crisp white linens and elaborate floral centerpieces. Max keeps his hand at your back, his thumb idly stroking in a soothing pattern as you take in the opulent surroundings with wide eyes.
“This place is incredible,” you murmur, craning your neck to admire the ornate chandeliers glittering overhead. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
He simply grunts in acknowledgment as the hostess stops before an intimate table tucked discreetly in the corner. After pulling out your chair for you with a flourish, she sets two leather-bound menus on the table.
“Your server will be right with you,” she informs them before departing with a polite nod.
You waste no time in opening your menu, hungrily perusing the offerings. “Oh Max, look at all these amazing cocktails! The La Vie en Rose sounds divine — rose liqueur, raspberries, lemon ...” You glance up at him hopefully. “We should get a couple of those to start.”
Max barely glances at his own menu before shaking his head. “I’ll just have a whiskey neat.”
Your face falls slightly at his brusque response. “Are you sure? These all look so good! We should live a little and try something fun for once.”
He fixes you with a stern look from across the table. “You know I don’t like frilly drinks. Now stop pestering me about it.”
Chastened by his harsh tone, you lapse into a wounded silence and continue reading the menu with diminished enthusiasm. A few moments later, a dapper middle-aged gentleman in a crisp suit appears at your table.
“Good evening, and welcome to The Sazerac Room. My name is William and I’ll be your server this evening.” With a polite smile, he produces a notepad from his breast pocket. “May I start you off with something to drink?”
You glance back at Max, giving him one last chance to change his mind. When he simply gazes back at you impassively, you sigh. “I’ll have the La Vie en Rose cocktail, please.”
William jots down your order before turning to Max expectantly.
“Whiskey neat,” Max says flatly. “Redbreast 27 Year, if you have it.”
“An excellent choice, sir.” William makes a note. “And may I bring you both some bread from our bakery while you decide on your meals?”
“That would be wonderful, thank you,” you reply gratefully.
William departs to place the drink orders, leaving you and Max alone once more. An awkward silence stretches between you, filled only by the tinkle of silverware and murmurs of conversation from surrounding tables.
Finally, you try again. “Max, are you sure I can’t tempt you with one little sip? This La Vie en Rose cocktail sounds absolutely divine. You might lov-”
“For fuck’s sake!” Max suddenly explodes, slamming his menu down on the table hard enough to rattle the cutlery. “How many times do I have to tell you I don’t want any of your ridiculous fruity bullshit? I’m a fucking race car driver, not some ridiculous Instagram model trying to look pretty with my drink.”
His nostrils flare as he leans across the table, eyes flashing with irritation that you would dare continue to push the issue. “I’ve had a long fucking day and I am going to drink whatever the fuck I want. So order your stupid fucking girly cocktail if you must, but don’t act so goddamn disappointed and keep shoving it in my face when I say no.”
You shrink back in your chair, eyes widening with hurt at his enraged outburst. The crestfallen look on your face is enough to douse Max’s fury like a bucket of ice water. He slumps back, remorse already stirring as he witnesses the light dimming in your eyes, lips trembling ever so slightly as you blink back sudden tears.
“I … I was just excited to try something new together,” you whisper shakily. “But never mind. You’re right, I’m sorry.”
The arrival of William with a basket of assorted breads and your glittering pink cocktail garnished with raspberries provides a merciful distraction from the tension.
You immediately reach for the drink, wrapping your hands around the delicate stemmed glass and taking a large gulp — both to avoid making eye contact with Max and to sample your coveted libation.
A look of bliss softens your features as the tart, sugary concoction bursts across your taste buds. “Mmm, this is incredible!”
For a beat, Max can’t help but drink in your look of pure enjoyment — the way your eyes flutter closed in delight, pink lips quirking into a contented smile as you savor each sip. It simultaneously tugs at his heartstrings and fills him with an irrational stab of resentment.
Here you are, sweet and radiant, able to find joy in the simplest of things … while he is just a miserable bastard who can’t let himself enjoy anything without getting irrationally angry.
You deserve so much better than him.
The thought is sobering and he feels shame burn hot in his gut. Unconsciously, his shoulders slump as he watches you take another euphoric sip of your cocktail.
“I knew it, this is amazing,” you sigh happily, seemingly recovered from his earlier tantrum as you bask in the deliciousness of your drink. “Max, you have to try just one little-”
“No.” The refusal is automatic, the word slicing through your offer before he can think better of it.
Your face shutters once more, the bright light in your eyes dimming as your smile fades into resignation. With a soft exhale, you set your glass down and reach for the bread basket instead.
“Suit yourself, then.”
As you silently butter a roll, Max finds himself at a rare loss, anger dissipating into regret as the knot in his stomach tightens painfully. Tonight was supposed to be a celebration after his impressive win on the track, a chance for the two of you to enjoy each other’s company and make more happy memories together.
Instead, he’s gone and ruined the mood … again … just like he always does.
***
“Another round?” Checo’s voice cuts through the sound of laughter and chatter around the table.
Max glances up distractedly from pushing the remaining bits of food around his plate. He, Checo, and a few other members of the Red Bull team are celebrating a successful Monaco Grand Prix. Despite making the podium, Max’s mind hasn’t really been on the festivities.
“I’m all set, thanks,” he mutters, raising his glass of whiskey with a tight smile before taking a sip. His gaze drifts across the opulent dining room of Cipriani Monte Carlo, idly scanning the crowd of wealthy patrons enjoying their evening meals.
That’s when his eyes catch on a shockingly familiar figure.
You.
Sitting at an intimate corner table, bathed in the soft glow of a candle’s flickering flame. For a moment, Max’s breath catches in his throat as a thousand bittersweet memories assault him all at once.
The hurt look on your face that night at The Sazerac Room … the resignation in your eyes as you accepted, yet again, that he would never be able to appreciate the sweet, simple pleasures that brought you such joy ...
The cold, empty silence that descended over your apartment when he finally left for good, stuffing his belongings into a duffel bag as you watched with trembling lips from across the room ...
Max blinks, and the moment passes — but his gaze remains riveted to your table. Because there, sitting across from you with adoration written across his insufferable face … is Toto Wolff.
Max feels his lips curl into an unconscious sneer as the Mercedes team principal murmurs something to you with a gentle smile, reaching across to delicately brush a lock of hair behind your ear. You catch Toto’s hand as it falls, pressing a tender kiss into his palm that makes the older man’s expression soften even further.
Your waiter arrives then, providing a momentary distraction as he lays out a couple of fresh cocktails on crisp white linen — a bright purple concoction garnished with a sugared rim and a plump cherry for you and an amber-hued old fashioned for Toto.
Your eyes light up as you take in the colorful beverage, immediately wrapping your hands around the delicate stemmed glass and bringing it to your lips to sample. A look of pure delight crosses your features as the no doubt sugary drink bursts across your taste buds.
“Mmm ...” you hum in pleasure, causing Toto to chuckle affectionately as he watches you enjoy the first reveling sips.
Setting your glass down, you gesture enthusiastically toward it as you address Toto. “This is incredible! You have to try it.”
Without hesitation, the Mercedes team boss dutifully leans across the table to take a long pull from your straw. Max watches with a mixture of disgust and morbid fascination as Toto’s expression morphs into one of surprised enjoyment.
“Wow, that is quite good, isn’t it?” Toto remarks with an indulgent grin, licking a telltale dab of purple syrup from the corner of his mouth.
“I told you!” You crow in delight, eyes sparkling with unrestrained glee.
The pure joy radiating from you in that moment is enough to make Max’s heart clench in his chest. He has seen that look before, so many times — whenever he deigned to let go of his surly demeanor for even a moment and actually indulge whatever fleeting whim or simple pleasure you desired to share with him.
But it was always so short-lived with him, stamped out by his own stubborn refusal to truly embrace anything resembling happiness or frivolity. You deserved so much more than his constant scowling and gruff rebuffs.
As if reading his thoughts, Toto then leans across the table to tenderly capture your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. The gentle intimacy of it makes Max’s gut churn as a feeling too complicated to fully unpack blossoms in his chest.
When you finally part, both of you are smiling at each other with such open, unguarded adoration that it’s almost obscene to witness. Toto reaches out to cradle your face in his palm as your lips find his once more in another chaste, loving caress.
This time, when you pull away, you let your head loll back with a look of pure bliss. Something deep within Max cracks and splinters at the sight. In a haze, he finds himself drifting back through the churning currents of memory ...
… that last, fateful shouting match in your living room, both of you red-faced and furious as the dam holding back all the anger and resentment and accusations that had been building for months finally burst ...
… you weeping silently as you clutched a meager trash bag containing what little remained of his belongings, not even able to look at him for fear of collapsing completely ...
… “I’m too sweet for you, Max. You’ve made that perfectly clear.”
The acid words burn in his mind even now, feeling as fresh and raw as that night they were spat out like venom between you. His chest constricts as his gaze falls guiltily back to the present day scene in front of him.
Toto and you, basking in the warm, rosy glow of new love — careless and unrestrained in your public affection. Delighting in each other’s company and simple pleasures … just as you always desired for Max to do, yet he could never fully surrender to.
The display is like a twisted mirror, taunting him with the vibrant reflection of what he threw away. What he was too foolish, too emotionally stunted and uncaring to fully appreciate at the time.
Stumbling from his chair in a daze, Max barely registers the questioning looks and concerned murmurs from his team as he staggers from the dining room. He hardly makes it to the privacy of the restroom before bending at the waist, hefting the contents of his stomach into the thankfully pristine porcelain basin.
The whiskey burns on the way back up.
Max grips the edges of the counter, face contorted in anguish as a realization washes over him in searing waves.
You were the real prize all along … and now, he’s lost you for good.
My coffee black
The drone of announcements over the PA system and the dull roar of hundreds of people bustling to and fro mingles into an ever-present white noise hum. Max trudges ahead, the brim of his ball cap tugged low as he weaves through the teeming crowds filing through the airports’ terminals.
It’s just after 5 am, the start of another grueling race week. This time the travel will take you from the Middle Eastern leg of the circuit to the other side of the world in Australia. Twenty-plus hours of planes, layovers, and jet lag beckon — a prospect that grows less and less appealing with each passing season.
A warm weight presses against his side as you shuffle along beside him, head lolling adorably as you struggle to keep your eyes open. One slender hand is looped through the crook of his elbow, gripping the strap of your carry-on bag with the other. You let out a jaw-cracking yawn, leaning into Max’s solid bulk.
“I need coffee,” you mumble groggily. “I’m barely conscious.”
He shoots you a sidelong glance, mouth quirking ever-so-slightly at your dramatics. As grating as your tendency for excessive cheerfulness can be at times, he does admire your ability to shake off the fatigue and stress that plagues him more and more these days.
“There’s one of those chains up ahead,” he grunts, nodding toward the familiar logo peeking through from around the corner.
You light up immediately, straightening and quickening your shuffling steps in anticipation of the caffeinated boost soon to come. By the time you reach the counter, there’s a bright spark back in your eyes that makes the exhaustion plaguing Max’s own limbs feel slightly more bearable.
The barista, a pimple-faced youth who can’t be any older than 18, greets you with a too-wide smile. “Welcome to Daily Grind! What can I get started for you?”
You lean in eagerly, surveying the massive display of chalkboard signs advertising the latest sugar bombs and “coffee” concoctions designed to appease the basic palates of everyday people who wouldn’t know a good cup of joe if it slapped them across the face. Max scowls, already anticipating some ridiculously saccharine order.
“I’ll have a large cinnamon honey oat milk latte, please,” you chirp, as expected.
The barista marks down your request with a perky nod. “Excellent! And for you, sir?”
“Black coffee,” Max replies flatly. “Medium.”
Your brow furrows as you shoot him a quizzical look. “Just black coffee? Not even a splash of cream or anything?”
He shakes his head tersely, one hand already rummaging in his pocket for his wallet as the barista rattles off the total. “We’re in a rush as it is, and that sugary nonsense you ordered takes forever to make with all the fussy bullshit they do to it.”
You wince at his blunt assessment, shoulders slumping a bit in a way that makes a pang of guilt flicker through Max’s chest. He doesn’t mean to be so harsh … but sometimes it’s like the more considerate side of his nature has been ground away by years of constant training and calculating every single variable down to the most minute detail.
The poor kid working the register seems to shrink under the intensity of Max’s gruff demeanor. With shaky hands, he quickly processes the payment before stammering out your total. As you shuffle off to the side to wait for your orders, Max can’t help but keep picking.
“Honestly, I don’t know why you insist on ordering those stupid drinks that are 90% milk and trash,” he mutters, shooting you a disapproving look. “Barely any actual coffee at all.”
You frown, immediately hunching into yourself a bit as you cradle a handful of napkins against your chest. “It’s not like that coffee flavor isn’t there at all,” you argue meekly. “And I have to get some kind of caffeine boost to stay awake during all these flights and race weekends. I just … I don’t really like the taste of black coffee.”
Max scoffs loudly at that, shaking his head in open derision. “Sure, because drinking just regular black coffee like an adult would be too difficult. Instead you have to get your ‘caffeine boost’ from some tooth-rottingly sweet concoction that looks like something a child would order.”
The barista shifts uncomfortably behind the counter, clearly flustered by Max’s abrasive tone. Not that he cares — he’s been dealing with people gawking at him in public for years now. What does rub him the wrong way is the wounded look spreading across your delicate features, eyes dropping to stare dejectedly at the floor.
He opens his mouth to continue chiding you, but at that moment the barista appears with your drinks. The sweet, cinnamony aroma of your order hits Max’s nostrils like a slap in the face, making his nose wrinkle on instinct. You accept your oversized paper cup gratefully, hands automatically curling around the comforting warmth.
With visible enthusiasm, you bring the drink to your lips, unable to resist taking a sip despite the scalding temperature. Max tracks the minute changes in your expression — the slight widening of your eyes, the upward quirk of your lips into a smile of unalloyed contentment. Your lashes flutter closed on a quiet hum of blissful appreciation.
“Mmm … heaven,” you practically moan, hunching over your cup as though to better inhale the revitalizing notes of sugar and spice.
It makes Max want to retch, watching you so unashamedly indulging in such vapid, artificial flavors. How can you find such simple-minded pleasure in that, when you could be savoring the bold, robust notes of a proper cup of black coffee? One meant to awaken the senses and caress the taste buds with its smoky aroma and rich, nuanced flavor notes.
“You can’t honestly get any enjoyment from basically drinking hot milk and flavored syrups,” he mutters, sneering at the offensive beverage in your grasp.
In response, you simply shift closer to him until you’re pressed alongside his body. Your free hand snakes around his bicep, squeezing gently as you tilt your head back to gaze up at him imploringly. Exhaustion and hurt war openly with the angelic softness of your delicate features.
“Max … can’t you just let me enjoy this?” You plead in a low murmur. “It’s early, and we’ve got a long flight ahead.”
His jaw clenches stubbornly, unwilling to back down so easily. Caffeine and sleep deprivation have eroded his already thin sense of decorum.
“I’m just saying, drinking a syrupy dessert drink loaded with sugar and god knows what else isn’t doing you any favors. You might as well just stick to black coffee like a normal adult if you want to be awake and energized.”
The wounded look in your eyes deepens into something more somber and resigned. Slowly, you pull away from Max’s side until a noticeable distance stretches between your bodies. Something inside him shrivels at the loss of contact. Your slender fingers work feverishly at the cup’s lid until it pops off with a dull thunk.
Max stares blankly as you march over to the nearest trash can and upend the contents of your cup into the receptacle. You don’t even seem to hesitate — simply turn on your heel and hurl the now-empty cup in after the wasted drink. It clatters hollowly against the canister, mocking and empty.
When you turn back to face Max, the sight makes the now-lukewarm coffee sitting neglected in his own cup feels like a lead weight in his gut. Your arms are wrapped protectively around yourself, hunched against some unseen foe. Head bowed, you refuse to meet his gaze as you slowly make your way back over to where he stands rooted to the spot in stunned silence.
It’s only as you draw up beside him that Max notices the twin tear tracks striping your cheeks. Your chin remains stubbornly trembling, but you make no move to wipe at the tears now falling freely. Max’s chest constricts almost painfully at the sight of your misery, the guilt gnawing at him as the reality sets in.
He is the reason for it. His harsh, uncompromising tongue has wounded you in one of the cruelest ways once again. Too strict, too unyielding, too incapable of allowing even the smallest indulgences that bring you simple joy without sneering dismissal.
For several agonizing moments, the two of you stand in silence amid the milling crowds of travelers streaming past. Max can’t bring himself to meet your gaze, knowing he’ll only find the depths of his own callous thoughtlessness reflected back at him in your swimming eyes.
Finally, you release a shuddering sigh that sounds far too weighted for someone of your sweetness and light. When you speak, your voice is little more than a tremulous murmur laced with dejection.
“Let’s just go to the gate, Max.”
You brush past him without another word, leaving him to trail numbly in your wake as shame burns a hole through his gut. He watches as your form disappears into the throngs, shoulders already beginning to hunch inward as that spark of happiness in you gutters and fades.
Lingering behind, Max’s gaze falls to the empty cup lying crumpled and discarded in the trash. A reminder of yet another instance where his unchecked tongue and inability to empathize has spoiled an innocent attempt at simple pleasure.
His coffee suddenly tastes like ash on his tongue.
As he moves to dump the neglected drink into the nearby basin, Max wonders with a sinking feeling just how many more times he’ll be able to snuff out your light before it dwindles to nothing.
***
The late morning sun bears down with oppressive force, causing a mirage-like haze to shimmer over the sweltering asphalt of the paddock. Despite being early summer, the Spanish air is already thick and heavy enough to bathe Max’s skin in a sheen of perspiration as he trudges toward the Red Bull Energy Station.
Ahead, he spots a cluster of people milling aimlessly near the entrance to the Mercedes motorhome. At the center appears to be you, head tilted back in unrestrained laughter at something George Russell is regaling you with. The British driver is equally animated, pale features scrunched up in exaggerated motions as he relays what is no doubt an amusing tale.
Max feels his steps gradually slow of their own accord as he takes you in from a distance. You seem utterly at ease and in your element — cheeky grin splitting your face, one hand toying idly with the ends of your hair as your eyes crinkle with unbridled mirth.
A pure vision of effortless contentment.
His gut clenches unexpectedly, unbidden memories of how he methodically chipped away at that very lightness in you until it was all but extinguished washing over him in a nauseating wave. How quickly he took such simple joys for granted ...
So transfixed is he by the sight of your open, honest amusement that Max barely notices the figure slipping up behind you. Not until Toto Wolff raises a conspiratorial finger to his lips, eyes twinkling impishly as he pantomimes for silence at a sputtering George.
You remain oblivious even as the Mercedes team principal slides flush against your back, looping one arm around your waist to tug you snug against his chest. With his free hand, Toto cups it teasingly over your eyes — to which you release a tinkling peal of laughter.
“Guess who?” The playful lilt of the older man’s Austrian lilt is unmistakable, dripping with honeyed warmth.
“Hmm … I wonder,” you murmur coyly, making a show of tapping your chin in feigned confusion. “Is it a dashing gentleman caller here to sweep me off my feet?”
Toto chuckles deeply in your ear, the sound positively dripping with unguarded affection. “Only if you’ll have me, liebling.”
Craning your head back with a cheeky grin, your arms instinctively wind around his neck as you stretch up on your tiptoes to greet him properly. Toto meets your lips in a lingering, languid kiss that has George hastily clearing his throat and looking resolutely anywhere but at the affectionate display before him.
When you finally part, all radiant smiles and flushed cheeks, it’s like the rest of the world has completely fallen away. Toto gazes down at you with such pure adoration that Max feels his throat constrict as though a belt is suddenly cinched tight around it.
“I have a surprise for you, schnucki,” Toto murmurs huskily, lips brushing your temple as he speaks.
You light up like a kid on Christmas morning, practically vibrating with excitement at his words. “Oh? Do tell!”
With a wink and roguish smile, Toto brandishes his other hand from behind his back — in it, clutched protectively, is a large cup topped with whipped cream and what looks like edible flower petals sprinkled over the top. The light purple hue of the iced contents catches in the bright sun, refracting a prism of soft, delicate colors.
“I had the barista in our hospitality whip this up for you,” Toto explains fondly. “After I mentioned how much you enjoy trying unique coffee flavors. It’s a lavender vanilla iced latte.”
Your mouth drops open in a perfect ‘o’ of delight as you instinctively make grabby motions toward the tantalizing beverage. Max recognizes that earnest enthusiasm all too well. It’s the same look you used to get whenever presented with any unique taste or experience to appreciate.
A look he always met with disdain and scorn.
Toto doesn’t hesitate for a second before depositing the cup into your greedy hands. You immediately cradle it reverently, as though it’s the most precious thing you’ve ever held. Ducking your head, you take a long pull through the striped paper straw.
The expression that blossoms across your features as that first taste bursts over your tongue is one of pure, unadulterated bliss. Your eyes flutter closed on a muffled moan of sinful enjoyment, lips pursing as though savoring each individual note of flavor. Max hasn’t seen you look that unguardedly delighted by anything in … well, he can’t actually recall the last time.
“Oh Toto, this is heavenly!” You gush, swiping your tongue across your lower lip to catch a stray drop of condensation. “The lavender is subtle, but gives it such a uniquely fresh and floral twist. And the vanilla adds this creamy sweetness that keeps it from being overwhelming.”
You open your eyes to beam radiantly up at the older man, who returns your luminous smile with equal warmth. “It’s perfect, thank you! You have to try it.”
Without prompting, you eagerly offer the cup up to Toto. He accepts it with an indulgent chuckle, locking eyes with you as he takes a contemplative sip — no doubt eager to share in whatever fleeting moment of bliss the simple drink has brought you.
Unlike Max, who would have turned up his nose and likely received it with derision, Toto seems to savor the complex blend of flavors. Humming thoughtfully, he swipes his tongue across his upper lip as though committing each separate note to memory.
“You’re quite right, liebling,” he agrees readily, “this is delightful. So refreshing for this heat. I may have to acquire a taste for these iced coffees myself.”
You positively glow at his assessment, lighting up from within like a joyful little sun. Max is helpless before the storm of emotions suddenly ripping through him at the sight.
“Oh! That reminds me,” you chirp giddily, bouncing on the balls of your feet, “I was talking to the barista about maybe incorporating some other floral syrups for iced coffees too. Like rose or hibiscus! And maybe we could get her to try making those fun layered drinks with the espresso on the bottom-”
Toto’s deep belly laugh cuts off your stream of eager rambling. Without warning, he snakes an arm around your waist and tugs you flush against him once more. You let out a startled giggle as he buries his nose in the crook of your neck, lips brushing the feverish pulse point just beneath your jaw.
“You adorable thing,” he rumbles warmly, words slightly muffled against your skin as he presses a languid line of kisses along the sharp line of your jaw. “So enthusiastic about the simplest pleasures in life ...”
Pulling back, Toto lifts one hand to tenderly cradle the side of your face. You automatically nuzzle into his palm with a look of such smitten devotion that it makes Max’s heart stutter behind his ribcage. When Toto leans in to seal his lips over yours once more, the kiss is deep and thoroughly unhurried — as though the two of you have all the time in the world to savor this intimate little moment.
Max’s hands clench into white-knuckled fists, blunt nails biting crescent moons into his clammy palms. He should turn away, leave you to your blissful display with someone who so clearly appreciates you. Yet he remains rooted in place, unable to tear his eyes from the scene unfolding before him.
It’s like witnessing an alternate universe version of your shared lives play out in vivid, scorching detail.
In this reality, Toto is the one tenderly stroking the pad of his thumb over the elegant arch of your cheekbone as the two of you part, drinking in the sight of your passion-addled features hungrily. He is the one basking in the radiance of your bright and unrestrained joy. Celebrating each of your simple thrills, from the most frivolous of flavored coffees to the sensual graze of skin on skin.
And where does that leave Max? An outsider peering in at paradise with his face smeared against the glass, watching the warmth and affection he could never fully embrace slowly slip through his calloused fingers.
And my bed at three
The mattress shifts, the subtle movement rousing Max from his slumber. He cracks one eye open to find the space next to him empty, the sheets disheveled where you had lain.
A glance at the digital clock on the nightstand tells him it’s not yet 5 am. Where are you going at this hour?
He hears faint rustling from the living area of the hotel suite, followed by the soft click of the door. Groaning, he kicks off the covers and pads out of the bedroom, the plush carpet warm beneath his bare feet.
You’re sitting on the couch, slipping into a pair of flats. “What are you doing up so early?” He asks, his voice still husky from sleep.
You look up, startled. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” A soft smile plays on your lips. “I was going to watch the sunrise.”
Max rakes a hand through his tousled hair. “Why would you want to do that?”
“Because it’s beautiful.” Your eyes sparkle with an excitement he can’t comprehend this early in the morning. “The colors, the way the light slowly creeps over the horizon — it’s just magical.”
He snorts. “It happens every day. Nothing magical about it.”
Your face falls ever so slightly, and it tugs at something in his chest. But the feeling is fleeting, replaced by annoyance at having his sleep disturbed for something so trivial. “So you didn’t want to join me, then?” You ask, almost timidly.
“And wake up before the ass-crack of dawn? No thanks.” He flops onto the couch beside you with a huff. “I was up until 3 am sim racing. Not all of us find staring at the sky such riveting entertainment.”
You say nothing, simply nodding as you avert your gaze. The light in your eyes has dimmed, and he feels a pang of guilt. But he shakes it off — it’s far too early for this kind of whimsical nonsense.
“Suit yourself,” he mutters. “I’m going back to bed.”
He doesn’t see the way your shoulders droop as he turns and trudges back towards the bedroom. Doesn’t see the tears that prick at the corners of your eyes before you blink them away and readjust the set of your jaw with determination.
Max burrows under the covers, fully intent on drifting back into oblivion. But sleep evades him, his mind buzzing with a peculiar restlessness. He punches his pillow into a more suitable shape, flips it over to the cool side, but still he lies awake, listening to the silence that fills the suite.
After what feels like an eternity, curiosity gets the better of him. He kicks off the covers once more and pads over to the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the city street below. Sure enough, there you are, a tiny figure perched on a bench across the way, your face tipped up towards the slowly lightening sky.
Max leans his forehead against the cool glass, watching as the inky blackness of night gives way to soft shades of periwinkle and lilac. Slowly, the colors deepen into blazing pinks and vibrant oranges that streak across the heavens. The sky ignites in a brilliant blaze of crimson and gold, the clouds set afire by the rising sun.
And there you sit, bathed in the dawn’s ethereal glow, utterly transfixed. In this light, your features seem softer, more at peace than he’s seen you in a long while. A smile plays on your lips, genuine and unguarded, as you take in the spectacle unfolding before you.
Max finds himself holding his breath, as if the slightest movement might shatter the magic of this moment. He’s never seen you look more beautiful, more alive than in these fleeting minutes as day breaks over the city.
A rare pang of tenderness blooms in his chest, quickly overshadowed by a creeping sense of unease. He isn’t certain how much time has passed before the brilliant hues fade into the pale blue of morning, but eventually you rise from the bench, taking one last, lingering look at the sky before turning and disappearing from view.
Max exhales slowly, his breath fogging up the glass. He isn’t proud of how he dismissed your simple joy, that spark of wonderment at the little things that he so often takes for granted.
An emptiness settles in the pit of his stomach, the guilt heavier than before. How many other moments has he trampled on in his relentless pursuit of success?
He thinks of your radiant smile, how it lit up the pre-dawn gloom more vibrantly than the sunrise itself. With a sigh, Max turns away from the window, already dreading the apology he knows he owes you.
Because in that single, breathtaking moment, he realizes just how lucky he is to have someone like you in his life. Someone who can find magic in the mundane, beauty in the simple things he’s become blind to along the way.
Someone, Max fears, who may be too sweet for him.
***
Max gives up on sleep around 4:30 am, as he has for the past several weeks. Insomnia has become his constant, unwanted companion, leaving him tossing and turning until the first hints of dawn creep through the curtains. On nights like this, slumber remains persistently out of reach no matter how exhausted he feels.
He lies in bed, staring at the ceiling as the brightening sky slowly illuminates the room. It wasn’t always this way — he used to be able to sleep like the dead after a race weekend, knocked out by the physical and mental exertion. But lately, his mind refuses to shut off, thoughts swirling endlessly until his head pounds.
With a groan, Max kicks off the tangled sheets and drags himself out of bed. Maybe going for a run will quiet the racket in his brain, at least for a little while. He dresses quickly, lacing up his trainers and grabbing his earbuds before heading out into the semi-darkness.
The pre-dawn streets are blissfully empty as he starts off at an easy jog. He despises becoming one of those obnoxious morning people, but exhaustion has a way of stripping away one’s self-respect. If pounding the pavement before the rest of the world awakes is what it takes to catch a few hours of sleep, so be it.
His route takes him along the harbor, the gentle lapping of the waves against the seawall providing a soothing soundtrack. The first rays of sunlight glint off the glassy surface, and he finds himself averting his gaze, oddly resentful of the impending sunrise.
It wasn’t so long ago that he scoffed at your eagerness to greet each new day. But ever since you’ve been gone from his life, those brilliant, fleeting moments of beauty have begun to mock him at every turn.
He picks up his pace, as if he can outrun the rising sun and the flood of memories it brings. But there’s no escaping the vivid flashes of you, smiling radiantly as the world awakes in a blaze of fiery hues. Or the hollow ache that twinges somewhere beneath his rib cage whenever he’s reminded of just how little he appreciated you.
So lost is he in his circling thoughts that he nearly runs right into you, appearing abruptly on the path ahead. His trainers skid against the pavement as he grinds to a halt, his heart stammering in his chest.
“Max?” You blink up at him, clearly startled by his sudden presence.
He opens his mouth, an automatic apology rising to his lips — until his eyes zero in on the camera clutched in your hands. Of course. Still chasing sunrises after all these years.
A wry grin tugs at the corner of your mouth as you take in his rumpled running attire. “Fancy meeting you here.”
Max says nothing, his gaze flickering briefly towards the brightening horizon before fixing on you once more. You look … well, radiant as ever, lit by the soft morning glow. A small pang of something — longing, maybe — twists in his gut.
“Out enjoying another sunrise, I see,” he says at last, nodding towards the camera.
You glance down at it fondly. “Well, you know how it is. I have to capture them while I can.” A teasing lilt edges into your voice. “Not all of us are night owls.”
He huffs out a humorless laugh. “I’ll never understand what’s so fascinating about watching the same thing happen day after day.”
“But that’s just it — each one is different. Unique and fleeting and … breathtaking.” Your eyes spark with that gentle wonderment he remembers so well, the sight sending a tremor through his chest. “Like getting a front row seat to the greatest show on Earth, but it’s one you’ll never see again.”
You trail off with a small shake of your head, seemingly at a loss to put the feeling into words. Max doesn’t need the explanation — he’s seen that look of childlike awe on your face more times than he can count.
An awkward silence stretches between you, laden with the weight of history and unspoken apologies. You shift your stance, mouth opening as if to say something more.
But Max cuts you off before you can get the words out, unable to bear whatever sentiments might cross those sweet lips of yours. “Toto not joining you this time?” He asks gruffly.
Your expression softens into a fond smile, and it’s like a physical blow to Max’s sternum. He knows that look, has been on the receiving end of it more times than he cares to remember. The way your entire being seems to brighten when you so much as think about someone you love.
“Ah, you know Toto — he’s more of a sunset person,” you say with a light laugh. “I’ve never been able to drag his grumpy butt out of bed for a sunrise.”
Even as his insides curdle with jealousy, Max can’t help the quirk of his lips at the mental image. He could all too easily picture Toto swatting irritably at you, burrowing deeper under the covers to escape the blasted sun.
“But we make it work,” you continue, that loving glow refusing to dim from your eyes. “I take photos of the sunrise to share with him later. And he does the same with the sunsets for me. That way, we both get to experience it in a way.”
The gentle sound of your voice washes over Max like a salve, momentarily easing the tangled knot of regret and longing that’s taken up permanent residence inside him. He watches, transfixed, as the early morning light bathes you in ethereal radiance.
In that moment, he sees it so clearly — the depth of give and take in your relationship with Toto. The effort, large and small, that you both put into nurturing one another’s happiness.
Even when your desires don’t perfectly align. Even when compromise is required.
It’s such a simple gesture, capturing those magical moments to share with your loved one. But it’s one Max was never willing to make when you were with him.
A lump forms in his throat as realization washes over him with unforgiving clarity. You weren’t too sweet for him, as he had so arrogantly assumed time and again. No — the truth, much harder to swallow, is that he was simply too sour for you.
Too selfish, too wrapped up in his own ambitions to make even the smallest concession. Too blind to recognize the magic in the simple things that brought you unbridled joy. Too bitter and jaded to embrace and nurture the beautiful nature that made you … well, you.
And now, after all his careless cruelties and wasted chances, he can only stand idly by and watch as someone else basks in the sweetness of your affection. As someone else goes out of their way, day after day, to put that blinding smile on your face and those stars in your eyes.
Something in Max’s chest cracks and crumbles at the injustice of it all. At the agonizing truth that he let the best thing in his life slip through his fingers, all because he couldn’t be bothered to change his sullen ways.
Because you were never too sweet for him … he was too sour for you.
2K notes · View notes
writerpeach · 20 days
Text
Studious Seduction
Oh My Girl Arin x m! reader
10k words
Thanks to @i-am-lifeform24 for help with editing
Part One | Part Two
---
Read on AO3
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"This seems like a bad idea, Miss Choi."
"It's a terrible idea, professor. Which is why we're doing it." 
Without a doubt, there’s very little chance that you won’t be spotted here. Heading up a stairwell that leads up to who knows where is hardly ideal, especially with the sudden rain shower that's started to pour above, foreshadowing this bad decision made in tandem. 
Yet, you’ve never been one to make the best choices. An inappropriate relationship with one of your students has to be ranked at the top of the list, wrong for a myriad of reasons—all that could get you fired. Still, it somehow continues unimpeded, knowing the risks, both of you doubling down even. 
At this point, you’re not sure if you’re a bad influence on Arin, or if she’s a bad influence on you. 
To make matters worse, today’s outfit of choice is this poor excuse for a school uniform that draws all your attention. A risky little ensemble that consists of a white shirt and black tie combo that only pretends to be proper, covering very little of her midriff, as well as this dark little pleated miniskirt so short it might as well not exist for how little of her thighs it hides. It leaves more of her creamy skin uncovered, and being her professor, you know it's not appropriate to look—yet you can’t stop yourself from doing so anyways. 
And then there’s those dark frames on her face, the cherry on top that puts this whole thing together, that takes her from an innocent, responsible student more than invested in class, to this devilish vixen who struts into your office, demanding to be ruined, never taking no for an answer. 
There’s almost no room for imagination, offering you such an obscene view when Arin heads up the stairs, purposefully walking in front of you with slow, deliberate steps. You can see the shape of her perfectly round butt cheeks exposed, her tight fitting thong doing anything but covering up delicious pale flesh. Of course, she knows exactly where your line of sight goes when you walk behind her, making an effort to shake her wide hips a little more with each step, giving you a shameless view of her tight, succulent ass.
This outfit is every dress code violation she could possibly make rolled into one. 
But who's going to admonish her? You? Who can't even think logically at the moment when all your thoughts have turned to mush? Not a chance when all you want to do is slip your hand between her thighs too delicious to resist until she makes a mess on your fingers, the floor, and anywhere else that becomes collateral damage.
Right now, you have the perfect opportunity for exactly that. You’ve lost track of how many steps you’ve walked, but eventually, the stairwell comes to an end, with a set of metal double doors that leads up to the rooftop. As good a place as any other, you think, especially when there's little reason anyone else would want to venture towards the top level during this never-ending rainstorm.
“Here?” you question, when Arin presses your back against the cold wall just underneath the final level of the stairwell. A solitary gaze into her eyes is all you get before she wraps her hands around your neck and plants a heated, sloppy kiss on your lips. She nods in affirmation, but doesn’t give you the time to catch your breath, slipping her tongue into your mouth to make an attempt to taste all of you.
“It's really open here. Pretty easy to get caught," you tell her when she moves from your lips, placing wet kisses across your jawline, moving lower down to your neck. 
"That's the point, professor." Arin places your hands firmly around her waist, leading you exactly where she wants your touch. Her legs spread a little further apart so you can push her skirt up, revealing just how tiny of a thong she's wearing. "I don't care if we get caught. Make a mess of me—" 
She sighs when your fingertips press against her clothed core, so aroused you can already feel her slick leaking through the flimsy fabric. You add more pressure in response, rewarded with Arin's soft gasps against the sensitive skin of your neck.
"We could get in a lot of trouble, Yewon," you breathe out, barely paying attention to anything beyond this. In fact, you hardly care about what could go wrong either, so consumed with lust, one singular desire that Arin shares, and your fingertips ache to slip underneath these panties and sink right in. 
"When has that ever stopped us before?" 
She has a point. 
This is risky as it gets. And that’s what makes it all more exciting. 
Without wasting any more time, you slip a finger underneath the fabric of her panties, into her ridiculously warm cunt. A second one slides in right after, and soaked as she already is, barely puts up any resistance, the entrance of her tight little hole eagerly swallowing you up.
“Professor—“
A few strokes is all you manage before Arin throws her head back in delight, rolling her hips, moaning from nothing more but your fingers slowly pumping in and out of her needy cunt. 
Arin clings to your shoulder as the tempo picks up, her other hand quickly traveling down your torso until it reaches your pants. She finds the button to your slacks right away, unzipping them to slip a hand inside your boxers. You let out a groan when she runs a gentle hand along the length of your shaft, slow and teasing—until she wraps her entire hand around it and grips you tight.
“Yewon..." A wave of pleasure rushes through your whole body. She's stroking your cock with such a perfect grip, slender fingers reaching down to fondle your balls, eager for what they’ve stored up just for her. Meanwhile, the sounds that come from her own throat as she rides your fingers become a necessary distraction, urging you to thrust into her a little faster, a little rougher— 
"How many loads are you going to give me today, professor? I hope they're all as thick as they were yesterday—"
It's rather ridiculous, the things you hear come out of Arin's mouth. The demure looking girl in the front row, raising her hand up high, blushing just at the sight of you, now says the filthiest things when she's got her mouth on your earlobe and her pussy filled with your fingers. She's every bit the opposite of an exemplary student, but you suppose that's your fault, given you're the one who's trading straight A's for the roughest, raunchiest sex that almost always ends up with you finishing inside her. 
But the way Arin sounds when she moans directly in your ear, riding your fingers so selfishly while they stay buried inside her cunt, it makes you forget all that. None of that matters. All that does is satisfying her needs and yours, and you won't stop until she's absolutely drenched your fingers, even if it ruins that pathetic pair of panties. 
"Don't stop, professor. I'm so close…"
She's lost all inhibitions in her frantic desire to keep rocking her hips hard against your fingers. You can feel the tension about to snap, her walls squeezing the life out of your slick digits—all while she tries to keep a steady rhythm in her own pumping, giving your cock a good squeeze each time your fingers plunge to the hilt.
"Professor, please, don’t stop, don’t stop—" Arin’s breathing grows unsteady, heavy, and she gasps for air between every syllable that escapes her lips. You’ll do everything to oblige her, steadily thrusting, curling your fingers to find that sweet spot that gets her to moan the loudest until she lets go of your cock, clinging her entire weight onto you.
"You're gonna make me fucking cum—"
Nothing gets said in response, obeying Arin’s pleas, an uninterrupted stream of juices beginning to coat your fingers while she lets out one continuous moan, unable to speak coherently upon climax. Biting down hard on her bottom lip, she nearly draws blood before the wetness gushes down your fingers, rendering her panties useless, completely ruined with all this sticky arousal.
Her walls flutter around you, this explosive orgasm lasting far longer than you expect—but you don’t let up, pumping away as she spills more, riding this out until it turns into a second one shortly after. And when you press your thumb firmly against her clit, right as she starts to come down from her high, the violent trembles in her body repeat, sending her over the edge a third time, forcing her body to shake against yours, another loud, shameless moan spilling out of her in overstimulation. 
It's a wonder how the rest of campus hasn’t heard the screams echoing all the way down the staircase. Were it not for the rain pouring overhead drowning out her cries of pleasure, it would be near impossible for anyone passing by to not hear a thing. So you’re blessed by the rains, both above, and between Arin’s sticky thighs. 
After it’s all said and done, she can hardly support her own weight when the sensation of your fingers inside her becomes too much for her oversensitive cunt, Arin’s sweaty frame nearly toppling over as she breathes heavily. Good thing you're right here to do what she temporarily can’t, clinging to your body, your hard cock still poking against her as you keep her upright amidst these intense aftershocks. 
"That was, fuck—you've really outdone yourself, professor. I can hardly stand."
When you pull your fingers out, you can’t hide the smirk that spreads across your face with all this slick clinging to your fingertips as she leans on your body to take a breath. The praise washes over you while Arin unexpectedly grabs your wrist, bringing your soaked fingers, all the way up to her lips to fervently suck the delicious liquid off. 
You intently watch her lick herself off you, tongue lewdly swirling around the length of each wet digit, making an effort to swallow all of her mess. Her lips glisten with spit and wetness, a ravenous look in her bespectacled eyes as she cleans whatever she can, tasting every drop of her delicious essence, staring at you seductively until nothing is left. 
"Guess I don't need these anymore," Arin says after a pause, gradually recovering as she peels her drenched thong down her legs, letting it drop to her ankles before she slips it off, stuffing it into your front pocket. A cute little smile later, and she looks more than eager for what's next, unable to tear her gaze away from how hard you’ve been left thanks to her. 
"I should finish what I started, don't you think, professor?" 
You don't even get to answer when Arin drops to her knees on the cold floor, tugging your pants and boxers further down, freeing your cock that so desperately needs it—so desperately needs her. With a cute, light giggle, she spits onto your swollen shaft, pumping the entire length with her delicate fingers, a low moan rising in your throat as she pays extra attention to the underside where she knows you're the most sensitive.
Her slender fingers work up the length of your cock, coming back down with a grip so wonderfully tight. She’s so ready, so eager to have her soft lips around it already. You can practically see her salivating when she leans in a little closer to lap her tongue around your cock in one long, lazy lick, pressing her lips into a light kiss on the tip of your shaft. 
“Yewon—“
You can’t hold in a grunt when Arin rubs your tip against her mouth, not opening up enough to take you whole yet, instead tracing her full, soft lips over your needy cockhead. 
“Don’t you worry, professor. Gonna make you feel so good. I promise.” 
The anticipation explodes all at once as she parts her lips, slipping the entire head of your cock inside. The moment her wet mouth makes contact with your shaft, you groan at the sudden warmth, a sharp contrast from her icy cold hands. She takes more of your length down, hollowing her cheeks, keeping an intense, erotic gaze while slowly bobbing her head up and down. 
"Mhmph—" Her warm breath sends shivers down your spine as her lips slip further and further down, the tip of her tongue flicking against what hasn’t disappeared into her mouth. You can’t help but let out all types of unabashed moans while she guides more of you inside, spit dripping down to your balls as she slides deeper, until nothing of you is left to swallow up, the head of your cock hitting the back of her tight throat with ease. 
"Yewon, fuck,” you say, nearly breathless, and the way Arin looks up at you with her mouth so proudly sealed around every inch—there’s nothing better. “I'll never get enough of your pretty fucking mouth.” 
Arin hums against the length of your shaft at your praise, working more of her magic on you, lips getting down so devastatingly deep against your base. She’s oh so eager, so unwaveringly committed to covering every single inch in saliva. Her hot little mouth slides down effortlessly, bobbing her head back, each stroke just a bit sloppier, a little wetter than the one before, with zero intention of giving you a chance to gather yourself.
“Nobody gives a blowjob like I do, right, professor? Nobody can make you cum as hard as I can. I love being on my knees for you so much, being a good little slut for my professor. That’s what I am, aren't I?"
Nodding your head is all you can do, breath heavy in disbelief of how good this oral assault is, the enthusiasm on display really proving how much Arin enjoys having your cock shoved down her wet, inviting throat. 
You’d sacrifice your entire livelihood for a blowjob like this. 
It’s quite simple to lose track of how many times her talented mouth takes your entire length down, so good at pleasuring you it's impossible to find words. The way her wet tongue flicks against your slit when she slides off, only to have you plunging all the way back into the heat of her throat—it's far, far too good.
"I want you to cum on my face, professor," Arin tells you, so casually as she pulls away for a brief second before going right back to licking up the length of your hard cock, spitting all the excess saliva over the rest of you. Then she’s back to placing hungry wet kisses against each inch, her tongue making a slick path before she gives the leaking slit of your cock another teasing, torturous swirl. "I want all of it."
At this rate, you think you could blow a load anywhere she wanted you to, already so close to bursting just at her tongue lavishing your cock with these feverish licks. She has this way of making you feel so special, like worshiping your cock is all that matters to her, your pleasure the most important aspect in her life. Her greedy mouth proves just that, making you groan so easily, especially when she dips down to pay attention to your balls and slurps so messily on them like she wants your load at any cost. 
A few lazy licks down your sack and you’re back down her throat—just trapped there helplessly as she holds you, her pretty mouth so goddamn overwhelming when she swallows as much of your length as she possibly can, not showing even the slightest hint of strain. Her full lips stay motionless when they slide right down to your base, gaze locked tight, making your cock throb within her tight, wet throat. 
“Stay there, Yewon, shit,” you groan, hands clutching her head against your crotch to speed up the path to climax. Each second she remains there feels like absolute heaven, fostering all this unbearable bliss, all while those doe eyes speak for her when her mouth can’t—impatiently waiting, desperately wanting to empty your balls. 
When she releases her lips from your length, there’s a sexy little gasp that comes with the messy string of saliva pulling her back down. Repeating the act, she plunges right back down, nose nestling comfortably against your abdomen, lips wrapped entirely around the base of your length. “Yewon, god, you know what’s gonna happen if you keep doing that.“ 
"Oh, you’re gonna cum? Want you to paint my pretty face. Don’t you, professor?” 
There’s no answer to offer other than what she wants, all thoughts drowned by another wet slurp when Arin once again takes every inch of you down her throat, the overwhelming warmth of her mouth suffocating your length. Then she rises, exposing your shaft to the cool air for only a moment until her throat tightens when you’re back down, fully sheathed. 
Arin’s so dedicated to hearing you moan that these steadfast strokes show no relent, slurping from base to tip, hair all a mess as she bobs faster and faster, maintaining never-ending eye contact that’ll be the death of you.
“Need it. Need it so bad, your hot cum dripping down my face when I walk back down these stairs. Can’t wait to feel how thick and heavy a load you’ll give me.” 
Her pace only begins to go into overdrive, picking up rampantly when Arin places her hands on your thighs for better stability, the hot slickness of her mouth far too much to handle. She takes every inch, all of you disappearing down, without needing to stop to take a breath, like she’s proving a point at how good she can get you off. There's no restraint as she bobs her head without inhibitions, sloppily, noisily, not even gagging when her throat delivers an unimaginable level of pleasure. 
"Oh my god, Yewon, fuck—"
With each desperate stroke, you're so close to that edge, quickly approaching the inevitable. The tightness in your balls grows beyond your control, and there’s no time to think straight when her mouth feels this fucking good, almost there, absolutely about to—
"I'm gonna fucking cum, Yewon," you groan out just in time, with no qualms about how needy you sound. One last slow descent down to your base, then Arin pops your needy shaft from her mouth right when it seems you’re about to burst any second. 
And looking as salacious as possible, she simply tilts her head slightly backwards, jerking you off while directing the tip of your cock straight at her face, eagerly anticipating the release that's about to cover her.
“Cum all over me, professor.” 
You let out a strained, guttural moan the moment your first pearlescent stream shoots out, streaking across the bridge of her nose. These frantic strokes don’t let up, guiding your milky seed that unloads onto the perfect target—her glasses, coating the lenses in white and getting it all over her rosy cheeks. Another strand fires off as she shifts your cock downwards, a thick stream blasting across her parted lips that deserve so much of this load for helping you reach an explosive release. 
She pumps, and pumps, until there’s nothing left, and by the time your orgasm winds down, Arin is a total mess, one you’ll never get tired of seeing your load plastered all over her. Her stunning features wear you like a proud smile, drenched in her handiwork, thick streaks that cling to her cheeks, those soft lips, and anywhere else it happens to land as she strokes your length to ensure not a drop goes to waste. 
That look is all too familiar when the weight of your load starts to drip down, an orgasmic feeling that brings a grin onto her cum-stained face.
“That’s a big load, professor. Just what I wanted," she says as she removes her stained glasses, taking a nice, long lick right over the lens and making a show of the entire thing. "I think I'm obsessed. With your cum. It tastes so good, but looks better on my face."
"Yewon—you're ridiculous, you know that?" you tell her as she carefully slips the glasses back on, and wipes up whatever has run off to the corners of her lips, bringing her sticky fingers into her own mouth to slurp them clean.
"It's not my fault my professor's cum tastes so good."
But before she can even begin to clean off your cock, or savor what an absolute mess she’s covered in, the sound of footsteps nearby force her to stop mid-stroke, causing both your heads to turn with a shared look of panic. There's only enough time to tuck yourself back into your pants, but there's nothing to do at all about this massive load that's dripping all over Arin, nor what’s done a number on the stairwell. 
"Get behind me, Yewon. Quick."
Arin nods and does as you say, scrambling to her feet, also making sure her thong is still tucked away into your pocket as you zip your pants up. The sounds of footsteps echo louder, yet there's only one real way to escape this stairwell, because you're not going out that door when the rain hasn't let up one bit. 
When the moment those footsteps approach the stairwell entrance, they slow to a halt, making your heart beat faster. Arin moves fast enough to get behind you just in time, out of sight and behind your broad frame. And the two of you wait there, her body pressed against yours, trying to hold her breath, dreading to explain yourself to whoever just made this abrupt end to your fun. 
"Professor? Is that you?" The voice sounds so familiar, but you can't quite pick it out, too muffled by the rain. But there's no doubt you've heard this voice before. It's certainly one of your students, so at least you won’t have to explain this to a faculty member. "What a surprise, seeing you here!"
Normally, you'd have all the time in the world for pleasantries and small talk, but this is the last place where you can do anything of the sort as you try to shield Arin. From who exactly, you have no idea as they walk into frame. Their name escapes you, not that you really care when all you want is to get out of this situation. 
"Is something the matter, professor? Why are you standing there?"
"Oh, uh, nothing. I had some time between classes and came up here to check out the rain. It's not letting up is it?" You put on the best smile possible, knowing Arin can't be spotted right behind you. Luckily, your taller frame can block her body completely, and given how the area is poorly lit, there isn't much worry about the mess that's on her face at the very least.
"No, it isn't. We don't usually get so much rain this time of year, huh?" The unnamed student asks as she glances out the window, and for a brief second you fear the worst—but she doesn't seem to notice anything at all that shouldn't be there. "I didn't even bring an umbrella today either..."
"You might check the library, they'll have them."
"The library?"
"They used to offer some a few months back, but I guess everyone forgot. I'm sure they still have a few left."
"I might give that a try then, thanks. It's good to see you, professor." 
When your student smiles and waves goodbye, heading back the stairs without another word, you're able to finally breathe a huge sigh of relief, knowing the ordeal is finally over, despite taking years off your life. "Jesus, Yewon."
"That was close.” Her own breath stays ragged and heavy, almost completely forgetful to the mess you've left on her face that still glistens. "Good save. Really pulled that umbrella story out of thin air, didn’t you?” 
“Whatever it takes. Hey, they might have umbrellas. I’ve never gone there except to rail you.” 
Arin laughs, then suddenly remembers she still has your filth all over her. “Better go clean up I guess..."
"This was a really terrible idea."
"Hey, this was my terrible idea," Arin corrects with a grin that manages to shine through all the mess. "And I don’t hear you complaining about me giving you a nice, sloppy blowjob, professor.” 
“I could never complain about seeing my favorite student on her knees.” 
“I'll go on ahead. Maybe I'll see you later? For office hours?"
You say nothing more as you let her pass you to head down the stairs first, standing here a bit longer for your heart rate to calm before you too make your exit. You've got a class in under an hour that you haven't prepared for, and now how could you, coming so close from potentially losing your job. But yet, somehow, through all that, Arin was right—the rush of getting caught is exhilarating, but that was far too close for comfort. 
✦ ✦
So after all that, logic would dictate that you should be a little more careful, that maybe you should stop having sex with your student in places you're bound to get caught—but logic went out the window the moment you bent Arin over your desk for the very first time. What else are you going to do though, take her home to your apartment where there's actual privacy, where you don't have to keep quiet?
That sounds so very drab and mundane, and you'd rather spend another ten hours grading papers than go the proper route. You don't even know what you would do if you wound up in Arin's bedsheets, having all the freedom to rail her for hours instead of the thrill of being in public where you have to be quick and quiet.
There's nothing wrong or unhealthy with this relationship. Not one bit. 
You've told yourself on multiple occasions that you should dial it down a notch, not meet quite so often, or at least not in places that will put your career at risk. After all, your luck is going to run out one of these days, and the day could very well come when more than just a student catches the two of you, maybe one of the other professors, or god forbid the university staff. 
And then it's all over for both of you. 
Yet, there isn't a day when you don't seek each other out, find some empty closet, a vacant faculty office, or that spot near the back of the library that's so dusty that no one frequents. 
The risk is almost as good as being balls deep inside Arin itself. 
You can't exactly help yourself when she wears these slutty little outfits that practically beg you to rip them off her, nothing but the shortest skirts imaginable to class, where you have to stop your eyes from wandering throughout the entirety of the lecture. 
Arin sits in the front row for a reason, and that's not to get a better view of the whiteboard. No, it's so she can spread her legs open when no one's paying attention, flash whatever sexy pair of panties she has underneath (or the lack thereof on occasion), and sometimes even play with herself so she can show off how wet she is. 
Somehow, no one's really noticed how often you have her in your office, where there's less talk about class going on, and more your head buried between her thighs, or having her bent over your desk in some obscene position with her mouth stuffed by her ruined underwear and screaming through it.
With everything that’s transpired today, one would think you’d call it early and pack up. Not you though. Not even an hour has gone by since your close call, and Arin is in your office again, sucking you off underneath your desk while you work on grading papers—at least you should be, if only you could focus for more than a few seconds without this warm mouth slobbering on your cock. 
"I bet none of your other students can deepthroat you as good as I can."
"You said you were going to be quiet."
"And you said you were going to fuck me, professor."
You haven't exactly broken that promise, it's more like Arin decided she wasn't going to wait until you finished, always finding an excuse to get in her favorite position whenever she wants to suck you off. 
Luckily, for your students, you're going to be in such a tremendous mood after finishing in this girl's hungry mouth. These papers are downright horrendous—so fucking awful and unreadable it makes you wonder if you should intentionally pound Arin in your office with the door wide open, just so you’ll get caught, lose your job, and never have to deal with some of these students ever again.
Not even a few papers in and you’ve lost every ounce of focus, groaning while Arin empties your balls, her mouth right at your base when your spills right down her throat. With your fingers gripping the back of her head, it's impossible to not avoid bucking your hips into her pretty, sloppy mouth as she drains each thick shot from your pulsing cock, swallowing it all with pride to make sure there's not a single trace of your creamy release that hasn't gone directly into her stomach. 
"All those students probably failed anyways," she tells you, letting the saliva fall from her lips as she shows off her empty mouth with a pleased smile, planting a nice, loud wet kiss on your tip before getting back up to her feet.
"Yeah? Including you?"
"Of course not, professor. We both know before you even look at my paper that I've got a perfect grade." 
"Is that so? And what have you done to deserve that, Yewon?" 
Before you've even gotten your pants back on properly, Arin is already claiming a spot on the edge of your desk, undoing her tie so that it hangs loosely around her neck, and then spreads those luscious thighs as wide apart as they can go, her gorgeous, dripping pussy on display without any underwear in the way. "I can think of a few things. Doesn't emptying you down my throat count for something?"
"Hm, I dunno,” you ponder, shamelessly staring between those delectable thighs at what’s all yours. “Maybe a few points. That'll get you a passing grade at best."
"Just a few? What about all the times I've ridden your cock this week alone, professor? And how many times did you cum inside me?"
"I've completely lost track, Yewon. I guess that'll get you at least ten percent higher."
"How generous of you," she retorts, tone all full with playful sarcasm, unbuttoning her white shirt enough so you can see the color of her bra. It's purple, just like the thong in your pocket that serves as a nice trophy. "Are you forgetting how many times I took your thick cock in my ass until you blew your load inside?"
"Does that really count if you beg me to do so every time you step in my office?"
"Oh no, you can't blame me for how much you love my ass, professor. That's at least twenty points."
"That's a little greedy, don't you think?"
"Absolutely not. If anything, I deserve extra for all those times I let you fuck my face," Arin suggests, spreading her legs further apart to give a clearer view of her bare cunt that’s glistening so beautifully, accompanied with a set of fingers teasing herself for your benefit. 
"Again, you're forgetting the part where you keep dropping down to your knees and begging for it."
Arin can't help but smile, both at knowing you're right—and also how you can't take your eyes off the show her fingers put on when she rubs at her clit, getting wet so easily from playing with herself while staring into your eyes. It's the look on your face that drives her crazy and gives her the urge to show off even more, sliding two digits past her swollen lips into her tight hole, so eager to get herself off in front of you. 
"What about now, profess—" she asks before a moan interrupts her words, leaning backwards to prop herself up so you can watch every bit as she fingers herself. "Does this count for anything?"
"It depends. If you can make yourself cum without my help, then maybe, that'll bump up your grade, Yewon."
"Twenty-five. For making myself cum right in your office," she manages between hitched breaths, pumping her fingers deep in and out, almost bucking her hips off the table at her own touch.
"Twenty. You're not there yet, Yewon," you correct, watching Arin roll her head back with her eyes shut, so beautiful when she's in bliss, achingly sexy how her slender fingers disappear knuckle deep into her own cunt. You've barely had any time to recover since emptying your load down her throat just a minute ago, but the mere sight is more than enough to have you as hard as the wooden desk she’s writhing on. 
Arin reaches down to further unbutton her shirt, giving the full glimpse of her breasts covered up in that pretty lace as her tight frame falls back against the cold surface all splayed out. While this shameless girl continues fingering her pussy, you simply enjoy the view, stroking your cock every few seconds to spur her on. Every desperate moan and gasp from her lips gets louder, all that nectar trickling down between her spread thighs you’re dying to lick clean—but you won’t, because she has to do this on her own. 
You let the lack of words exchanged linger in the air while Arin fingers herself a bit rougher, moving a bit more frantic, knowing all the signs from experience that she isn't too far from that much craved release. 
“Professor," Arin breathes out, the quiver in her voice an obvious indication. Her fingers get so drenched, pulling them out from her heat for a moment to reveal how sticky wet they are as she groans, not bothering to hide how she slides them back in to curl right into herself. "Oh god, professor—“ 
When the pleasure becomes too much, when her back arches off the desk with breathless cries, there's no missing the split second Arin's entire body tenses up—thighs quivering, fingers buried so deep you can hear the wetness while she shakes on the desk from the intensity of her orgasm. It's a moment of euphoria that's only reached because you're watching so attentively, eyes glued the entire time as she rides her fingers long past completion, toes curling, moans echoing through your small office.
Even when Arin is finished, she's unable to regain her composure for more than a few ragged breaths, eyes still closed while the bliss hits hard, long after her high. And you savor every second of her looking so beautiful in this post-climax haze, an absolute mess on your desk that you’re thankful hasn't soaked into your papers.
"Fuck, that was too good, professor," Arin murmurs, slowly pulling her fingers out from herself, just to rub her oversensitive clit, borderline crying from the overstimulation. “It’s too bad it wasn’t your cock I came on.” 
"Then maybe I should deduct points for that?"
"Hey, that's not fair… you just told me—I’d get points for making myself cum."
"I did, but—you would have earned extra for waiting for me to do it. Guess you'll just have to earn back those points another way."
"How exactly should I do that, professor?" Arin asks with the best faux ignorance possible, sitting herself up to scoot off the desk, then leaning down to wrap her slick fingers around your shaft. "If you bend me over and pound me with this cock until your cum is leaking inside me, would that be enough?"
"Perhaps. That would certainly help raise your grade some points.” 
"Give it all to me then," she pleads, giving your cock a handful of languid strokes, just enough to leave a nice trail of her slick along the entire length. "Fuck a load into me, professor. Fuck your top student all over this office."
"Top student? Really?" You can't help but laugh at that, knowing full well Arin is certainly anything but. Far from it actually, not even top ten. "Then I better go find her then."
"Hey! Just shut up and give it to me already," Arin says with that pout still intact, keeping these strokes going on your cock that make you throb so easily, and you’re not sure who needs it more at this point. 
"Fine, but not here. I'm tired of this place. Let's go somewhere else."
It's rather late into the afternoon, with the majority of classes for the day having ended already. That leaves enough of the campus vacant, lowering the risk of getting caught wherever you decide to take Arin—but the risk still isn't zero. Wandering around the university after hours isn't the best idea, especially when there are plenty of places for students to hang out, and worse, faculty offices open late.
So you keep it simple. 
You keep several feet ahead of each other, heading up a couple floors to that really small bathroom by the science department that no one ever uses because it doesn't lock properly. There are much bigger and better bathrooms scattered about, so everyone usually forgets this tiny, shabby thing exists, especially late into the day. Not the most romantic spot, but it’s suitable, and keeps you from scouring the halls without having to dodge other faculty and students. 
You enter first, flicking on the light, and do a quick scan around the room while Arin slips in, pulling the door shut as quickly as possible. There's nothing but a toilet, a sink, and a mirror, but most importantly it looks clean, which is the most important thing. It's not that surprising given that nobody really uses it to begin with.
It’s as perfect a place as ever. 
Double checking the lock still doesn't work, nothing has changed on that front. Arin quickly moves to lean against the wall, and she’s already unbuttoning her shirt, all the way this time, to give the full view of those perky breasts without any bra to ruin the view. You're on her in a flash, claiming those lips with a kiss full of nothing but aggression to match just how badly you want to ruin this girl right now.
"Fuck me," Arin urges as she palms your bulge through your pants, impatient to get your cock inside of her. Her fingers fumble with the button to your pants, thoughts clouded with desire, and she’s so eager to release your aching shaft, to give it all the attention it so desperately craves.
You’ve got just a modicum of patience left to not let that happen quite yet.
Instead, with your lips still attached, you pick Arin’s slender frame off the ground, and guide her over to the sink, placing her there as gently as you can. When she settles down on the edge of the counter, there's no hesitation to shove that tiny skirt up past her waist, revealing her absolutely beautiful cunt still left glistening in the aftermath of her orgasm from a moment earlier, and you're just dying to fill her all up. 
Still, somehow you hold back for a moment, to let it all sink in. The sight is divine enough, this privileged student of yours in this rather pathetic excuse for a school uniform, half naked, shirt wide open with her tits fully out, that barely-there skirt, and those sexy thigh highs that bring all the attention to her immaculate thighs that make you want to ruin her even faster. She knows that’s your biggest weakness, knows how weak in the knees they leave you whenever you get to slide them off with your teeth—but now they make her look like pure sin. 
"I know you wanna get that dick in me," she says, voice so sultry, and her thighs spread obscenely wide apart, so that every inch of her mouthwatering cunt is put on display with not a drop of modesty—not like Arin even knows what that word is. 
"Not yet. Haven't gotten to taste you today." As per usual, Arin’s been more than a little greedy, and it feels like she’s had her lips on your cock all day and this is the first opportunity to return the favor. 
Any protest in those pretty eyes doesn't last when her hands wrap around your skull, drawing your face straight between her thighs that you have no trouble diving into. With your lips feasting on her cunt right off the bat, you give Arin all the attention she craves so badly, licking along the length of her slit, all the way up until your tongue starts flicking at her engorged clit. 
"God, so fucking good," Arin breathes out, the silence in the empty bathroom getting cut with all her beautiful moans that ring out. For your efforts, you’re rewarded by her thighs locking around your head, as your lips get a tight seal around her swollen clit that has her grinding that delicious cunt all over your mouth. 
"Professor!" she chokes out, while continuing this harsh grip on the back of your head while you slurp on her clit so mercilessly, every bit hungry to taste all those delicious juices that spill out. "Oh my god, professor, oh fuck!"
Your mouth doesn't quit, because nobody tastes better than Arin. You're an addict, every bit obsessed with this girl's cunt since the first time that you slid between these thighs. There's nothing you love more than this, her taste lingering on your tongue, all while these delicious thighs squeeze around your head, suffocating you perfectly as you eat her out with so much fervor she almost can't handle how good you make her feel.
"My god, Yewon—you taste so fucking delicious," you tell her between long licks, slurping on her clit without restraint to savor every last bit of her soaking cunt. "I can eat your pretty pussy all day. For hours and hours."
"I won't say no to that, professor.” Her desperate hands dig into your scalp to hold your face right there, exactly where she wants, where she needs, gasping when her hips grind down against you. "Fuck, your tongue is so, so good."
This is your favorite part about going down on her, being trapped between those perfect thighs that squeeze and tremble while you sloppily eat her out, drowning in her heavenly aroma and all this nectar, her delicious pussy that tastes even better the longer you indulge. 
It's never enough though, no matter how much time you get to spend with your tongue buried inside her cunt, or how many times she cums all over your face—the taste of her is heaven, and you love turning this girl into nothing more than a whimpering, quivering mess who can’t even think straight. 
"Just like that, professor, fuck, don't stop, oh my god, don't fucking stop, please—“
She whines so freely while grinding down hard against your hungry lips you can hardly breathe. Not that you have any problem about that, because you know exactly where Arin is, can feel those thighs vibrate all around you to know those limits are about to be surpassed, and you don't plan to let up for even a moment.
You ramp up your efforts in devouring her cunt without a moment to rest, your tongue all over her clit, sucking so harshly, so relentlessly, drowning in these delicious juices. It’s obvious how Arin's hips can't stay steady for a second longer, seconds from losing herself entirely. "Professor! Fuck, I'm so fucking close. Keep going, keep—oh fuck, right there, I'm gonna cum so fucking hard, fuck—"
Arin bucks her hips into your face with wild abandon, her juices smearing across your lips when you bring her to the verge of release, until she finally topples over completely. 
Everything goes muffled while she keeps her thighs squeezed tightly around your head, violently trembling throughout her orgasm as you lick her through the entire thing. Like every other time you've brought her over that blissful edge, it's beautiful, turning your face into a mess, and you greedily lap up everything that freely spills into your mouth from her overflowing cunt. 
When those thighs let off and relax, you look up at Arin's blissed out visage, completely enamored in the pleasure, shivering and trembling with a high-pitched squeal as you give her clit one more loud slurp for good measure. Your focus then shifts back to her messy folds, delving deep into them to clean up those juices she's gushing so profusely, a never ending stream of wet, sticky deliciousness. 
"Fuck, your cunt always tastes so amazing," you mutter, lapping at the girl's slick covered thighs, getting out every drop that leaks out with a few soft licks. Arin stays motionless on the counter, looking straight up to the ceiling while her chest heaves, still seeing stars.
After indulging a little while longer, and spending all the time necessary getting those warm thighs mostly clean, there's only one thing left to do. Your mouth pulls away, but only so you can yank your pants down to your ankles, your stiff cock aching to get inside of her. 
"Gonna fucking ruin you, Yewon. Hope you’re ready for me to wreck that tight little cunt."
"When am I not? Please, give it to me already," Arin desperately pleads, pulling herself from her haze to look at the throbbing length you're stroking as her eyes beg you to sink in and fill her up. 
Sitting herself up on the sink, she keeps herself propped up with her hands planted behind her body, spreading her thighs apart as far as possible, with her wet cunt presented so lewdly and invitingly. "Shove that dick right in me, professor. Give it to me as hard as you can."
Without another thought wasted, you slowly guide the swollen tip of your cock past those drenched lower lips, groaning unabashedly when all this slippery warmth welcomes you deep inside. It's far too easy, how you slide into her, walls so dripping with arousal that allow this ache to dissipate when you effortlessly impale Arin all the way, right to the hilt.
"My god, Yewon, fucking love this tight pussy," you groan as her walls clamp down, holding you right inside that delicious grip with no plans to release you. 
She's so soaking wet when you start pounding away inside, each thrust coated in all those messy juices as your cock bottoms out every time. Your deep strokes make full use of her open shirt, causing her modest breasts to bounce as her back hits the mirror with each hard slam. Arin clenches around you with such an unyielding grip as you pump in and out, loving how rough you are, how forceful your hips are, moaning louder and louder, still sensitive from the previous release. 
“And I love being stretched on your huge fucking cock.”
There's not an ounce of mercy in your thrusts, just pure carnal lust taking hold. Her wet folds remain parted, taking the full length of your pounding shaft, every last inch driving into that slick little cunt without restraint. You take advantage of how her legs drape over the sink, grabbing her thighs, spreading them to give you more leverage to angle your thrusts deeper, and she kicks her heels off to give you even more control, allowing you to use her body however you please.
"It feels so good, professor," she says, while each thrust stays rough and deliberate, buried to the hilt in her wetness. "This cock of yours—is so perfect."
"That's because your cunt is made for it," you groan, sweat forming on her skin under your grip as your hips slam against her. It's absolute bliss, watching the way her entire body responds each time you sink in, hearing her soft whines that she’s unable to hold any back while getting fucked so mercilessly over this counter top. "You take my cock so well."
"Of course I do," she insists, the biggest grin on her face that gets interrupted with more moans. "I'm the professor's favorite student, after all."
"But definitely the worst one," you fire back, fingertips digging hard into her bare thighs all wrapped up in these sexy thigh high stockings as they jiggle with every relentless thrust.
"So—how many points is this?" Arin asks, bracing herself against the mirror when you pound into her even harder, every inch of your cock covered in her sweet essence.
"As many as you fucking want, Yewon."
"Then make it a thousand. I can use them on the next assignment, right?"
"Use them on whatever you want, the final exam even. So long as I get to cum inside you."
"Of course, professor. Fill me all the way up. Cum inside me as much as you fucking want," she says, and those tits bounce more hypnotically every time you pick up the pace, slamming deeper with more force each time. After every plunge balls deep, that tightness becomes more overwhelming, urging you to give your all, as if the sight of her all sprawled out and creaming on your cock isn't enough already. 
It's merciless. And your hips start to reach their limit, but Arin's desperate cries of pleasure become so loud, that she has no choice but to muffle herself with her hand, almost forgetting that this seldom used bathroom is still right by the science lab—and anyone could be lingering around. 
"Fucking fill me, professor. Empty your balls. Just keep—oh god, fuck, fuck," Arin whimpers, the limits of her body creeping up fast as your cock pistons so harshly in and out of her hot cunt. "Wanna milk every last drop right out of you, make you cum so fucking hard."
"Only if you’re good and cum on this cock, Yewon. Cum all over me, and I'll fucking fill this cunt up."
"Yes, god, yes," she says, practically falling back against the mirror while you brutally hammer into her at full force. She barely keeps the coherence when it all peaks, when you feel those impossibly tight walls clenching around your cock, borderline painful, forcing you to use every ounce of strength to not burst inside her just yet. 
"Fuck, professor, this dick is so amazing—I'm gonna cum all over it, all over your fucking huge cock," Arin says as her pussy squeezes the life out of your cock with every impale in that wet, intoxicating heat. A flood of her fluids almost forces you out, an absolute mess that drowns your shaft in slick rips through her body without any care, and all you can do is fuck her through it. 
Even when her orgasm subsides, and she somehow becomes tighter, wetter, easier to sink into, you don't show any remorse while fucking her tight pussy until you can't possibly hold on any further. 
"You're close, aren't you, professor?" Arin gasps between collecting her breath as the pleasure begins to fade, watching the struggle you're going through to hold it back. "I know you are. Please, let me have all that cum. Blow your fucking load in me, let it all out." 
That's all you need to be shoved straight over the edge, taking a few final strokes before that pressure builds up to a boiling point, and nothing’s going to stop you when you’re about to burst. “Yewon—“ 
Her name barely escapes before you’re throbbing, letting out all types of lustful grunts while her pussy smothers you in  warmth, offering the best place for such a messy release of seed that shoots out, coating her insides the way she begs for. 
Your cock violently pulsates until you’re left with nothing but orgasmic relief, unloading shot after shot deep inside Arin with the thickest spurts imaginable that empty into her warm little pussy. These tight, tight walls take every drop, welcoming such a huge load that’s even somehow stronger than what her mouth did to you earlier.  
There’s no way you could do anything else with how delicious she looks on this bathroom counter. With whatever remnants of energy are left, you use all the power in your hips until they lose steam, remaining inside her euphoric cunt that refuses to relinquish you. You ride out wave after wave, each spasm pumping more cum into her, all this intoxicating bliss that feels like it’ll never end. 
And truly, both of you wish it never would. 
“Professor…” Arin can barely speak between breaths, riding this collective high that fills the room with heavy panting, and sweat glistens on whatever bare skin her revealing outfit offers. You’re right there with her, caressing her thighs, her messy cunt wringing out as much out of you as possible, like it doesn’t want your cock to escape, even after your entire load is buried inside that delicious warmth. 
“Came so hard on you, professor, fuck... I love the way your cum feels when you push it deeper, all the way into my womb. Wanna keep it all here until you’re ready for round two.” 
"You're fucking insatiable, Yewon," you sigh, dropping Arin's legs back onto the counter, which relinquishes the intense grip you’ve held, allowing her body a chance to relax. When your breathing returns to something somewhat stable, you lean over to give her a tired kiss, one that’s easily returned with whatever remaining energy she has. 
“Can you blame me when your dick is this good? It’s only your fault I turned into such a greedy little cumslut.” 
“Or maybe you were already like that before I even met you…"
"Yeah. Maybe."
Arin looks away as she starts to giggle, giving you a perfect chance to kiss that exposed cheek. When she glances back, you share an impossibly long stare, one that goes on far too long without words until you lean in for another kiss—
One that gets interrupted by a knock at the door. 
"Hello? Is anyone there? Custodial services, I'm here to clean up." 
You must have angered some kind of god for this to happen two times in one day. Even worse, there’s no easy way out of this while you're still buried inside Arin, the least of your concerns as this creamy mess threatens to spill out. 
"I, uh—need a moment. Spilled something on my shirt that won't come out. Be out in a bit," you blurt out, barely thinking while you look around at the poor bathroom that's been defiled. Arin can't help herself, covering her mouth to help from not immediately bursting into laughter as she fumbles to button back up her shirt. 
“You’re such a bad liar,” Arin whispers, but you just roll your eyes at her, glancing over the sweat on her body that you’d no doubt be licking clean were the two of you not nervously waiting to see if this unfamiliar man outside will buy your story.
"No problem, sir. Take your time, I'll be back after.” The janitor shuffles his feet, and you listen carefully, wondering just how obvious the two of you were being. When you can no longer hear footsteps, you release the longest sigh, and slowly pull out of Arin, along with an utterly unreal amount of hot semen that spills out. 
"Can't believe he bought that," Arin sighs while hopping off the counter, where more of your cum gushes out as soon as she stands up. "Can't believe you came so much inside me, either."
"If I recall, you were quite literally begging me not to stop."
"No need to be smug about it, professor."
Arin does her best to look presentable in the mirror and fix her disheveled hair, shirt only half buttoned, and skirt a complete mess, but it all seems so futile. There's no real way to hide how she looks after getting railed over the sink relentlessly, or the cum still dripping all over her thighs that she doesn't even bother to clean up. 
"We should get out of here before he comes back," Arin says after giving her appearance a once-over, making any minor adjustment to try and fix how ruined she looks. "Shall I leave first, professor?"
The question has only one obvious answer, but you still can't form your lips properly to speak it. "Not so fast, Miss Choi."
"Oh? Am I forgetting something?" Arin asks while running fingers through her hair again. You step towards her, pressing into her back to wrap your arms around her tiny frame before planting a kiss on the side of her neck.
"Yeah—me. You're not leaving this room without me."
You notice her grin in the mirror as your lips graze her skin again, nipping right on that sensitive spot that makes her gasp. 
"Don't tell me you're wanting to go again. After we almost got caught. Again—"
"No, not yet," you say between kisses, drawing closer and closer up her neck. "Need a little bit more rest for that."
"You poor thing. Did my pussy wear you out that much, professor?"
"You can barely stand upright as it is," you retort, taking your mouth away from her neck for a moment. Arin stifles a laugh that turns into a moan when your hand creeps up her skirt to touch her dripping folds still leaking your cum. "You need this a lot more than I do."
"Is that so? Well—fuck," Arin moans, unable to hide her body betraying her words as she grips the edge of the counter when two of your fingers slide into her without warning, pushing a mixture of her nectar and the load you pumped inside deep into her messy cunt. 
"It's too bad I can't continue this," you say, and withdraw those fingers from Arin's clenching pussy that so desperately tries to keep them in to no avail. "Let's get out of here. But you're not leaving my side."
"If you insist, professor." Arin has no further words, fixing up her skirt while so much thick seed oozes beneath. "But isn't it a little risky to leave together?"
"Probably. But besides, even if somebody does see us, so what? There's not much they can do about it even if they can already tell what just happened. And what are you always saying—how much you love the risk?"
"Guess I'm rubbing off on you, hmm?"
"Not a chance, Miss Choi," you correct, causing that grin across her face to grow wider. "I'm just tired of sneaking around so much."
"Me too, professor." 
You turn to leave, opening the bathroom door to poke your head around the corner. Luckily, there doesn't seem to be anyone around, only a couple of students you don't recognize standing nearby chatting, paying no mind as you and Arin sneak out successfully together.
“Where are we headed?” asks Arin as she settles in right next to you, something that's going to take getting used to. 
"Dunno. Cafeteria is still open. Guess we can head there first."
"Not if it's still raining. It's a bit of a trek, isn't it?" 
"My car's right out front. And if we so happen to take a little detour..." 
"Now who's being insatiable, professor?" she asks, with this little teasing giggle in her voice. 
“What? Who said I planned on doing anything with you other than grabbing some dinner? You know, I don't think you've had anything in your mouth today but my—"
"Professor!" Arin's not used to your conversation being this open, or being on the opposite side of being so flustered. "Save it for when we're not outside! Or better, the back seat. With the doors locked, preferably."
"As you wish, Miss Choi. Besides, but there's nothing I rather eat than your—"
She desperately covers your mouth to stop any further words from escaping as you head to the parking lot, surprised to see there's nothing but abundant sunshine now. Even more surprising is the fact nobody looks twice as the two of you walk together. Maybe it's luck, or maybe everybody here knows damn well what happens on campus between you two. 
And maybe you'll stop sneaking around campus every day, finding just enough time to spend the last half of your lunch hour buried between Arin’s thighs while she tries to hold her moans. 
But maybe you won't. 
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irndad · 1 month
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Hi, I’m so sorry, I searched for request guidelines and must be missing them so if this isn’t something you write I apologize-
Flower prompt heliotrope with Spencer where reader sacrifices herself/or gets shot to save Maeve so Spencer can be happy, even though she’s hopelessly in love with him. 🥹
Little angst, little fluff. You can decide if reader fully sacrifices or just gets really badly hurt and how Spencer reacts.
my dear!! there are no rules yet- i have things i won't fill but thus far the onus has been on me to clarify. i had so much fun writing this- thank you for requesting it!!! requests r open :^) wc: 1.1k
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“Is Maeve okay?”
It’s the first thing she says when she wakes up from her hospital bed. Spencer’s shaking, a little woozy too. It turns out that they have the same blood type, and she lost a whole fucking lot of it. He’d been happy to give it to her, although ‘happy’feels like the wrong word to use in this situation. 
She had internal bleeding, and collapsed harshly from the gunshot, scuffing her forehead so badly she needed stitches. Comparatively, it’s the least of her worries, but still- Spencer can’t stop staring at it. She’s literally marred by the choice she made to protect him. 
Maeve is okay. She’s in the same hospital, but Spencer’s spent about ten minutes with her- the rest of the last 12 hours of his life were spent oscillating between donating blood and praying to a deity he’s not sure exists. 
She’d survived. They’d both survived. He should feel relieved- why doesn’t he feel relieved?
It’s a stupid question that he keeps asking himself. Two of the most important people in his life are alive, but still in the moment, her blood spilling over him- the gasp of her breath when the bullet hit her- He’s going to remember the sound of it forever, what it sounded like for her to almost die for someone else. He hates that she’s the type of person to do it. To jump in front of a loaded gun for a woman she’s never met before. 
He’s mad at her. He has no right to be- he gets a chance with Maeve now, and that’s all due to the choice she made. And yet- he’s so, so angry at her. Because she could be dead right now. He could never, ever talk to her again. She made a choice that meant that he might have never been able to hear her voice, do a magic trick for her, ever, ever be near her again. How the fuck could she do that to him?
“Yes,” he replies, “she’s okay.”
She nods agreeably, before wincing at what appeared to be an intense ache at her temples. 
“My head hurts,” she says, her voice low and endearing, and his heart roars with protectiveness. “Do you think I could have a juice box?”
She’s so sweet- he wants to laugh, in a sad desperate kind of way. This is his favorite person in the world, sitting up shakily and asking for juice, clearly groggy and so endearing. He almost lost her. 
“You’re okay too,” he says, “If you’re wondering. You scared us. You had internal bleeding and a concussion. You lost a lot of blood.”
It’s only then she frowns. 
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” she pouts, trying to sit up and speak to him. “But it all worked out, Spence. She’s okay.”
“It didn’t all work out!” Her eyes widen at his outburst, and he feels like scum. Yelling at her when she’s in a hospital bed, taking a bullet so he’d have a chance at romance. 
“You said she’s okay,” she says back, slowly. “I don’t understand.”
“You lost blood. You almost died. That is not it working out. You have to tell me you understand that.” He doesn’t know why he’s being so harsh, but he also doesn’t know why he has to explain this to her. 
“I know,” she sighs, “I know. But this is the job, and I didn’t have time to get a vest on!”
“Then you wait. You wait. You don’t just burst in-“
“And you would’ve lost the love of your life!”
“What makes you think she’s the love of my life?”
A nurse shuffles by the room and Spencer takes a deep breath. He doesn’t want to be kicked out of her room, and on some level he knows how crazy it is to be yelling at a gunshot victim. He pinches his nose, eyes winced in frustration. 
She’s been his favorite person by a wide margin for an incredibly long time. She joined the team as a consultant and he remembers the first time he did a card trick for her- the first time he’d fallen asleep on her shoulder. He was so grateful to know her. Still is. In this moment, knowing feels like time slipping out from an hourglass- like it was almost numbered. Their time was almost finished. 
Maeve was lovely. Maeve listened and she was kind and Spencer really did like her. He’s glad she’s safe, now. But his best friend, his coworker and favorite person- Spencer thought everyone could tell that he’s been in love with the team consultant since the first week he knew her. 
Everything he liked about Maeve reminded him of her. 
And she’d jumped in front of a bullet for someone she thought he was in love with. And fuck, maybe he did love her in some way- but whatever ‘in love’ meant with Maeve, this sorrow, the pain of knowing she’d almost been someone he’d have to remember was far, far deeper. 
“You’ve never mentioned anyone to me romantically. I’ve known you for years, Spencer. She’s important to you.”
Maeve is. She was. It’s all so confusing now. He has liked someone for years, though. He couldn’t tell her, though. Maeve was a welcome distraction from a love he thought was wholly impractical and impossible to love him back— a love that now he has to witness languish in a hospital bed. 
Morgan knew. Morgan would tease him every time Spencer drew a smiley face in purple marker on her coffee cup. He would tell him to just ask her out, and it had always felt so improbable. She’d never go for someone as lanky and uncharismatic as him. 
“You’re important to me.” 
She has no idea how much. 
Her eyes soften at that, and not for the first time, he wants to curl into her arms. He wants to lay next to her in the hospital bed, and feel her pulse beat against bare skin. Feel her pulse and with every beat know that she is alive. 
“I know that, Spence,” she breathes out.
Even though it’s not kosher, not necessarily the right thing to do when your not-girlfriend/girl you went on one date with is in the same hospital, but when his best friend opens up her arms for a hug, he ends up doing exactly what he wanted. 
The team finds her asleep in her hospital bed, with Spencer asleep in her arms. It feels voyeuristic to look at, but Spencer really, really couldn’t care. 
He resolved to tell her that he loves her as soon as she’s healed. With the way Morgan side eyes him every time he ‘helps’ her walk across a room by holding her waist, he’s not sure he’ll last that long. 
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elaci · 2 months
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One For The Road
The morning after what's meant to be a one-night-stand, Nat convinces you to stay in bed a little longer.
cw; mentions of drunk sex, thigh riding n pussy eating as god intended
Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader | 18+ mdni
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Nat, she told you to call her.
The woman whose taste still stains your lips, whose touch still burns your skin and voice still purrs in your memory. The woman whose bed you wake naked in, with her arms snaked around your waist.
She’s warm in a way that makes you think, for a moment as you wake, that this is familiar. You’re more comfortable than you’ve been in months, her bed plush but firm enough to support you and the gentle ache of your body after her extensive ministrations the night before.
The sun has long risen, and shines through her window in such a way that the room is bathed in radiant golden hues. You turn a little, still half-drunk on sleep, and take in the sight of Nat as she sleeps soundly. You know you should get up while you can, leave without the awkward goodbyes that follow a one night stand, but her skin is so soft and her arm such a comfort around your waist that you feel wholly stuck in place. You wonder if you could get away with closing your eyes and drifting off for a few more minutes.
“Better not be thinking about leaving me,” her voice breaks the morning silence. You turn your head and meet her eyes, tired and heavy with sleep but still boring into yours under the morning gold.
You offer her a gentle smile. “Go back to sleep,” you hum. “I’ll get out of your hair and call you later, yeah?”
You aren’t sure you even have her number saved in your phone, or where your phone is, for that matter. Despite the pang in your chest at the thought of never crossing paths with Nat again, you take the high road and move to get out of bed. Her arm tightens around your waist before you get the chance.
“Nope,” she mumbles, pulling you into her body. Skin against skin, it brings back memories of the night before that you doubt you’ll rid the taste from your lips. Nat manages to press a kiss to your collarbone. “I’m not done with you.”
She kisses you again, and again, peppering open mouthed kisses across the expanse of your chest, each time eliciting a shiver in their wake.
Your judgement isn't clouded by alcohol anymore, you can feel each trace of her lips like fire against your skin as she trails soft kisses up the column of your neck. Every breath sends your blood rushing south. You can barely manage the words you speak, drunk once again with desire.
“I thought…” you gasp when she bites at your pulsepoint. “You said last night was a one time thing.”
Nat pulls away to look at you with raised eyebrows, you grieve the loss of contact. “You think I tell the truth when I’m drunk?”
She traces a nail down your bare chest, underneath the sheet that covers the two of you, tracing invisible designs against your rib cage until your skin feels impossibly tight. You’re lost for words again, and she takes advantage of the moment, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips.
“Stay, and let me taste you again,” her tone is steady. “Or get out of my bed, you gorgeous piece of shit, and make breakfast.”
Your mind betrays you, throws away all rules and notions of a one-night-stand and moves your body on your behalf. You’re catching her lips in a kiss before you can register the hand that slips from your stomach to your thigh. You taste alcohol, and the remnants of a cigarette you barely remember her slipping out of your arms to smoke on the balcony. She takes your bottom lip between her teeth and bites down, shooting the most beautiful pain right from your lips down to your pulsing core.
Her grip is strong on your leg, fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh as if she’s trying to stake her claim on you. It’s a feeling that drives lust through you like electricity: the notion of being desired, owned. When she pulls the sheet off of the both of you and climbs over your naked frame, you feel like a woeful miscreant for ever thinking of leaving this bed. Your heart beats so hard it almost hurts. You wonder if, when her mouth latches onto one of your peaked nipples, she can feel the thrum of your heart against her lips.
“God,” starved, she presses a kiss to your other breast. “I should tie you to this bed, keep you here until you’re too fucked out to remember your own name.”
“Nat—” you try, entranced by whatever spell she’s washing over you. Her kisses trail down your stomach.
“That’s right,” she groans against your hip bone. “Let me make you mine.”
“Yes,” you vocalise your consent, but Nat tuts.
“Say please.”
“Please.”
With not even a second to spare, Nat is delving between your thighs for a taste of your lust. She groans against your pussy, already high off the taste she’s gotten, and latches her lips onto your clit in an assault fueled by need and need alone. She’s a woman with a mission, and you feel dizzy with desire for more already. You want her inside of you, her body as tightly pressed against yours as she can manage. You ache for every inch of her. For everything.
For now, though, she does what she knows you need. Your hand snakes down to grab at her red hair as her tongue works violently against your clit until you’re a writhing mess beneath her.
Once you’re close enough to the edge that you’re seeing stars, Nats scalp must burn from the stress of your pulling. Trying anything to get closer, become one with the woman so pussydrunk she’s moaning against your clit like she’s the one being unravelled.
Being as coy as she is, however, you can feel her smile against your pussy as you come close to orgasm. Just as your toes curl and a sobbed moan starts to break from your chest, Nat pulls away and leaves you bucking your hips into the air for any semblance of stimulation. You could cry.
“Had to punish you somehow for thinking you could sneak away,” Nat pushes herself up to your face, you can see a gloss of your arousal coating her lips and chin from her messy ministrations. “Sorry.”
You’re about to comment, through babbled words, that she doesn’t sound sorry when her lips meet yours once more. The kiss is messy and harsh, your teeth click together and tongues meet and you can taste yourself. She is one to share, after all. The taste of your lust mixed with the intoxicant of her lips is almost enough for you to forgive her for your ruined orgasm. Almost.
When Nat pulls away, wiping her lips with the back of her hand to maintain at least a little composure, she catches your frown and mirrors it with her own.
“What’s wrong?” She pouts, her tone mocking in a way that makes your body ache to be filled by her.
“You know what’s wrong.”
Her frown fades, and her replacing smile worsens your ache. Her chest heaves with laboured breath as Nat repositions herself, straddling one of your thighs and lowering herself against your skin.
She must have gotten off on your taste alone, because she’s wetter than you’d think reasonable. A slut for servicing you, it seems.
You lay in silence, looking breathlessly up at the woman from the bar as she starts ever so slowly rocking her hips. The sharp inhale as her clit grinds against your skin, made easy by her arousal that coats your thigh. Part of you wants to take control, grab Nat's beautiful hips and hold her down against your thigh as she rides you until her vision is tunnelled and blood boiling. The other part of you, the part that wins, can’t move an inch at the sight of the redhead using your body as nothing but a tool to get herself off with.
The sweetest of moans fall from her lips and into the air around you, a song of pleasure you doubt you’ll ever forget. You think if this goes on long enough, you could come from the sight alone: how her body moves as she rides your thigh, the bounce of her peaked breasts as her pace quickens and sounds get louder and skin gets hotter. If you’ve died and gone to heaven, you pray there’s no such thing as resurrection.
The jolts in Nats movement are a testament to her impending orgasm, she’s close, and you can tell. You almost want to buck her off you as payback for ruining your orgasm just before, but every thought of revenge is washed clean from your mind when she reaches down and slips two fingers inside of you without warning.
“You’re gonna come for me,” she bites, hips rocking against your thigh at an ungodly pace. “You’re going to come with me.”
It’s no request. It’s an order.
Nats fingers are skilled, she scissors them inside of you and circles your clit in tandem with her thumb. It’s a celestial experience, the devotion of her fingers inside of you, curling to meet your g-spot as she abuses your clit in the same motion. The sight of her losing herself as she rides your thigh to the end of her sanity— the mess of her hair and glaze of her eyes as he watches you.
“Come.”
All it takes is a word, and you’re coming unmoored beneath Nat. Black spots flood your vision as you drool a string of ‘thank you’ into the sex-heavy air. Nat shakes against your thigh, so deep in her own orgasm that she doesn’t bother to pull her fingers out of you, working on muscle memory.
You just reach the brink of tears, overstimulated as Nat returns to her right mind. You’d bet on giving her the satisfaction of pulling another orgasm from you, but she comes right and pulls her fingers away just in time to let you breathe.
The sun's golden morning glow has since passed, you aren’t sure how long you’ve been away in Nirvana. Nat brings her fingers to her mouth and licks them clean, a pornographic sight that has your glossy eyes wide. Sweat coats both of your skin, breath shared between you are laboured and heavy, and the sun seems cold in comparison to the heat of your skin.
Nat rolls off you, leaving a glistening mess on your thigh and a cold loss at her missing heat against you. When she speaks, her voice is quiet and gentle. “You were perfect.”
Another kiss as she leans over and pecks your lips. A goodbye kiss, maybe— or a ‘thank you’. She moves away, swings her legs over the side of her bed to get up and rub at her eyes, sleep still plagues her.
“I’ll uh, get you some water and find where I threw your clothes last night,” she hums. “The shower is just through those doors, if you—-”
Natasha Romanoff is stitched silent by the hand that grabs her wrist, and the body that climbs over to straddle her lap. Your eyes, dark as they look down at her and lift her chin to force her gaze. The low words you speak by her ear, poison as you parrot her own words back to her.
“Nope. I’m not done with you yet.”
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req rules ⁞ request here | crossposted on ao3
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fuckmyskywalker · 9 months
Text
Pussy pleaser — Anakin Skywalker.
— CW: 18+, smut! Anakin eating pussy, Anakin worshipping it, fucking it, basically existing just to eat cunt. Slay. (I may have overused the word "pussy" but hey, can you blame me?). — BASED OFF THIS THOUGHT I HAD AFTER BEING SLEEP DEPRIVED. || WC: 1.2k – Not proofread :P.
— A/N: IMPORTANT! I tried not to use a specific pronoun to refer to reader's vAGINA because I know some people that wanted a larger version of this don't go by she/her pronouns! I hope I did it well and if I missed something please let me know! Your opinion matters to me 🫶🏻. Woops, what's missing here?! ;)
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Anakin is an exceptional lover, but if there's something he lacks… is patience.
Especially when it comes to you.
After a rough day, after a good day, to cheer up after some bad news, to celebrate after some good news, after the council either scolded/congratulated him… Anakin always ends his day buried in between your thighs. It doesn't even matter how, if it is his cock, his tongue, his fingers— As long as your pussy is involved, he’s in, figuratively and literally speaking. 
But like I said, his patience is little to none, and it shows. Anakin will not only overwork you, overstimulate you and completely ravish your sweet pussy at any given chance, time and place— but he also will give you a short time to even accommodate and keep up with his passionate urges. His large hands start caressing your thighs, trying to hold himself back every time but failing miserably, he will pry them apart slowly, trying to savor the moment (mostly for himself), tracing your skin with practiced ease. He knows every curve, every freckle and mole, Anakin has memorized every inch of your body and he is proud to know what makes you crumble and beg for more. 
Anakin tries to be gentle, but having your heavenly offer just inches away within his reach and not be buried deep inside you is a crime. He licks your pussy until you have no idea if you are this wet because of the arousal he provoked on you or his own spit.
 Which, let me add to the list how disgusting he is sometimes: Anakin is filthy, and his devotion to you only seems to make his obsession even worse. One of his favorite activities is parting your lips with his thumb, before licking a long, lazy stripe from your entrance to your clit— and then spit right on your cunt. He will throb like a horny teenager, he will hump the mattress of the cheap beds in the Jedi Temple like a desperate bitch while watching how his saliva slides and mixes with your own wetness. 
Speaking of his obsession, Anakin lives, fights and comes back home every day for you, of course… but for your pussy too. His favorite breakfast, meal and dinner. His favorite treat and his favorite prize. 
Countless times you had laid down on the bed, legs open wide like a cheap whore from a dirty brothel straight from the most dark, disgusting corners of Coruscant, with his head buried in between them, tugging on his blonde curls moaning and grinding his nose against your clit for him to mumble something so quietly you mistake it with an insect flying across the room. 
“I missed you.” He whispered, his blown out irises fixated on your pussy. “My pretty thing.”
The first time it felt flattering. It was nice to know your boyfriend missed you so much. You ignored him, thinking he was just eager. 
The second time, it was the same.
Same quiet murmurs, same praises: “God, I can’t get enough of you…” Anakin had his eyes closed, sucking on your clit and pausing every now and then to whisper sweet words to you. 
Sure, to you.
Over and over, you gobbled up his praises, his need, his lust for you. Anakin had the power to push you to heavens, to reduce you to a blabbering puddle, to lit up your darkness fantasies, so why stop him? He sounds like he’s enjoying himself, and who are you to deny him such pleasure?
There's always a breaking point though.
Remember how I mentioned how impatient Anakin is? Well, this time it didn't worked on your favor. Instead of prepping your pussy, allowing you to have a nice, slippery stretch to be able to fit his thick cock without any discomfort, Anakin couldn't wait. It wasn't particularly painful, but a sharp sting was there, something momentarily but significant. Anakin bottomed out, groaning loudly at how tight your pussy was in that moment, his horny, selfish mind not being able to register his lack of consideration.
“You are tighter than usual.” He huffed, his fingers digging in the supple flesh your waist. You tried to protest, to tell him he didn't stretch you first, but he began to trust relentlessly, hitting your sweet spot over and over. 
Every complaint quickly died in your throat, replaced by moans of pleasure and delight. Even if it felt amazing, your pussy was still struggling to accommodate to his size, and Anakin, the little shit, was in heaven. 
“You missed me? You missed my cock pretty thing? Missed me using you like a toy?”
Despite your blissful state, something about his words just seemed… off. 
Almost as if he wasn't talking to you. 
Anakin’s hips slammed against yours again and again giving you no break at all. Your hands had to grab the edge of the wooden bed frame at some point, the discomfort of his girth now long forgotten. He hovered over you, staring at your pretty, glassy eyes, watching them roll back, silently beg him for more and then looked downwards, locking his devil eyes with your pussy. If there was something Anakin would never, ever, not in a million years get tired of, was the breathtaking view he had every time he had the privilege to witness how your tight little hole struggled to keep him inside, as if your delightful, hot cunt was desperately trying to keep him inside forever.
“Fuck… I missed you too, wish I could stay inside all fucking day.” His incessant gibberish began to have an effect on you, your hazy mind slowly putting the pieces together. 
“Anakin—” You called him with such a tone that he snapped out of his trance. 
“Yes?” He asked, not stopping his movements, just slowing them.
Next, a question you never imagined asking. Your sweaty, flushed face had a hint of confusion, a pretty valid confusion.
“…Are you talking to my pussy?”
Anakin froze, looking almost— guilty?
“What if I am?” He answered your question with another question, something you hated. 
“Anakin, answer the question.” You sighed, waiting for his answer as if you two weren't naked on his bed, him buried balls deep inside of you. 
Your boyfriend pouted, was he really throwing a tantrum? “Maybe.” He whispered. In response, you laughed quietly trying not to ruin the moment. It wasn't odd, probably a bit perverted and a bit— hot? The fact that Anakin was so in love with your pussy he treated it as if it was another whole being worth his wholehearted attention. 
“I think it’s… hot” Your words were followed by a shrug, staring at him, batting your eyelashes.
Giving him that look.
And if Anakin Skywalker isn’t the most patient person in the Galaxy, he certainly is the designated pussy pleaser of the Galaxy. 
He pounced again, wasting less than five seconds to resume his reckless assault on your poor, overworked pussy. “See?” He practically growled, his teeth sinking in his lower lip, curving into a wicked smile. “This tight, little cunt missed my big cock so much.” He is on full rampage mode, fucking you brainless. 
“Feel how I stretch your tiny hole, angel?”
“Look at you, is my cock too big for you?”
One hand let go of your hip, grabbing your face and squeezing your cheeks, breaking eye contact with your bodies merged into one and forcing you to look at him. His face was inches away from yours, his hot breath hit your face and a string of drool falling from his lips landed on your lower lip. The fire in his eyes was incomparable.
“This pussy belongs to me, not you, do you hear me?”
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authorhjk1 · 4 months
Text
Midnight
Kwon Eunbi X Park Jihyo X Yu Jimin X Male Reader
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Stay here."
Jihyo can't tear her eyes off the screen.
"B-But you could die."
Twice's leader sees a smug grin on your face.
"I'd rather die than see you leave."
Her eyes grow wide as she watches you exit the room.
"Don't go!"
Tzuyu is sitting next to Jihyo. As if you could hear her shout.
Jihyo's heart aches. How could they put you into this dangerous situation?
She unconsciously bites her nails as you close the door behind you. You lock it, letting the key fall into the fish tank next to it.
"He is gonna die."
Chaeyoung is the third Twice member, who is sitting on their couch.
"Don't jinx it."
Jihyo tries to hit her, without looking away.
You let out a heavy sigh, the sad OST adding fuel to the three girls' emotional fire.
Shouts can be heard in the background. Footsteps are coming closer.
You take the pistol out of your belt. The Japanese soldiers can be seen, running through the wooden inn.
"Please, please, please."
Tzuyu mumbles to herself, praying that you are gonna survive. You are the main lead. You have to!
You cock your Mauser C96, before placing your left hand on the steel door.
"Stay alive."
You whisper. Your eyes are watery, the chance of staying alive slim.
"No! Chu-soo!"
The woman behind the door rattles at it, trying to get to you.
"Please!"
Taking a deep breath, you step towards the stairs, ready to go up into the saloon.
"Don't."
Jihyo sighs, hoping you would stay safe. Where is the backup the old guy promised?
The first soldier appears on the top of the stairs. Just as he sees you, your pistol fires. His limb body falls down the stairs, coming to a halt right before you.
"He is gonna do it!"
Chaeyoung exclaims, her voice louder in excitement.
Another dead Japanese soldier falls down the stairs. You jump over both of the dead bodies, taking two steps at once.
Stepping into the saloon, you shoot a third soldier in the head.
Seo Yeji bangs against the door in the basement.
"Chu-soo!"
Tears flow down her face. She tries to open the door, but you locked it.
A single shot can be heard from upstairs. The screen turns black. The episode is over.
"No!"
Jihyo slumps back into the cushions, groaning in frustration.
Tzuyu and Chaeyoung are equally disappointed. How could they just let it end this way?
"One more minute!"
Karina groans in annoyance, wanting to scream at the person behind the door.
She tries to collect herself. With a low moan, she let's her fingers slip out of her warm core.
There is no way she is gonna get off now. How long has it been? At least two weeks. Maybe even longer. The last time she was with a guy? She can only roll her eyes. Even if she would have time for that, who is she supposed to approach? Some are just not attractive in her eyes. And most behave like boys. It doesn't matter to Karina if they do it on stage or off stage or both. She isn't into boys.
Fixing the lower half of her outfit, Karina makes sure she is presentable again. As she stands up, she looks herself up and down in the big mirror on the wall.
Her eyes fall onto the white top she is wearing.
"Fuck."
Karina mumbles, seeing the dark spot on the white fabric.
"Not again."
She sighs, unbuttoning her blouse. This has happened a lot the last couple of weeks. Luckily, she has something else to change into.
After getting rid off her blouse, Karina sees that her bra is stained as well.
The first time this happened, she was really concerned. What the fuck was going on? But after some research, she found out that this can happen due to stress. Especially to women with larger breasts.
Most of the time, Karina doesn't have a problem with them. Hers are on the bigger side, which her fans seem to like. But in moments like these, she wished that she would have a smaller chest.
Changing into a new bra as well, Karina ponders on how she can get rid of this problem. Occasionally lactating isn't great. Especially if you are on stage. It hasn't happened yet, but it could anytime.
The stress is getting to her, which makes the problem even worse. How can she get rid of this?
"Are you alright?"
The woman's eyes are fixated on the idol in front of her.
"Unnie?"
It takes Kwon Eunbi more than just a moment to realize that she was staring.
Once she gets caught, she starts to blush heavily. She tries to hide it, but the woman she is eating with gets the hint.
"Who is it?"
Eunbi shakes her head, embarrassed.
"It's nothing. I-I just have a lot on my mind."
Her manager chuckles, knowing Eunbi quite well by now. If she blushes this hard, it means she has seen a very attractive person.
She turns around, trying to find out whom Eunbi could've stared at.
"Stop it. You food is getting cold."
Eunbi is trying to stop her manager from looking around.
"If you are not gonna tell me..."
She sighs before she keeps eating her scrambled eggs.
Eunbi looks over her manager's shoulders, looking at the man who is getting a serving of the food in the company's cafeteria.
There is no way she could tell anyone whom she is looking at. You are eight years younger than her after all.
She watches how you walk closer, her cheeks slowly turning red. She watched the new episode that aired today.
You never really caught her eye before, even though the two of you are in the same company. But your current lead role in this new drama has Eunbi swooning.
Especially this last episode. Since it takes place right before the second World War, Joseon is occupied by the Japanese. After your fierce fight, you took a bath in the river nearby.
It was a replacement for the cliche shower scene a lot of k dramas have.
Up until that moment, Eunbi always enjoyed seeing your handsome face in the cafeteria and on screen. Despite the scar on your right cheek. She thinks it makes you look even rougher.
But after she's seen you half naked, she can't get her thoughts into their proper order. Eunbi expected you to be fit. Probably even slim. But she didn't expect your well defined abs. The way the water made it's way through the valleys of your muscles....
Eunbi almost chokes on her food as you now stand in front of her table.
It's not like the two of you know each other very well, but there aren't a lot of empty table left.
You greet both women politely, before starting to enjoy your food.
Kwon Eunbi's head rests on the soft material behind her. The sofa in her empty waiting room was just a too good of a chance to pass up on.
She is a very comfort loving woman, which means she has to feel safe and secure to indulge into her more carnal desires. But lately, Eunbi seems to become horny almost all the time. Especially while watching your drama or seeing you in the cafeteria.
She is currently attending a music show. While waiting for her time to shine, Eunbi decided she could try to get off real quick. It's not like she is missing inspiration.
Your face crosses her mind. Your abs, your broad back, your muscular arms...
Eunbi sighs heavily. If this drama is gonna have a sex scene, she is gonna die sooner rather than later.
Her cheeks flush red. But not just because of how good she feels. Shame is part of the reason as well. She can't believe she is crushing so hard on somebody who is younger than her. By eight years. Maybe this taboo adds to her heightened state of arousal.
When Eunbi hears the door open, her pleasure shatters into pieces. More shameful red colors her cheeks, her legs instinctively closing around her hand as she opens her eyes. They are full of fear now.
Two women stand in the door, both shocked at seeing Eunbi lying half naked on the sofa.
In her lust filled state, Eunbi's mind takes a moment to recognize the two people standing in the door. Park Jihyo and Yu Jimin.
"Seems like you have the same problem as us."
Jihyo's words embarrass Eunbi even further. How could this happen?
"We were looking for a quiet room to talk in."
The two women step inside. The older of the three still very aware that she is half naked.
"T-To talk about what?"
A quick glance at the coffee table makes Eunbi's heart sink even further. Her phone is still on. She tossed it away as her pleasure started to get the best of her. A picture of you in that river is lighting up the screen. Please...
The two girls don't seem to notice yet.
"About our needs."
Eunbi looks down on herself at Jimin's words.
"We never have time for, you know..."
The youngest seems a little embarrassed as well.
"There is no need to be shy."
Jihyo takes the lead, probably because she is used to it.
"The three of us are all visibly in need of some action. Am I wrong?"
The other two shake their heads.
"So we need something that can help us out."
"Or rather someone."
Jimin's comment makes Eunbi immediately think of you.
"Are you saying, the three of us should..."
Afraid to finish her sentence on her own, Eunbi looks at the two leaders of Twice and Aespa.
"Yeah."
Jihyo nods.
"It would be a hassle to find three guys for all of us. One might be enough."
Eunbi shudders at the thought. She never even had a threesome before. How is she gonna share a man with these two women? Although, it might be a good experience. There aren't really any cons, are there?
"So, are you in?"
Eunbi slowly nods at Jihyo's question.
Jimin closes the door behind the two as they both step fully inside the room.
"Any suggestions?"
Jihyo's question makes the older woman glance at her phone. Jimin seems to have caught it. She steps closer, before Eunbi can hide the display.
"Wow, unnie. He looks handsome. Who is he?"
Jihyo takes a closer look as well. Biting her lip, she feels her body reacting to your picture. She tried the same thing Eunbi had tried a couple of moments ago. But sharing a house with eight girls made it impossible.
"(Y/n) really is a great candidate."
"(Y/n)?"
Jimin heard that name before, but it takes her moment, since you haven't been really popular so far.
"You mean Lee (y/n)? The actor?"
"Yes."
Jihyo nods.
"He is the main lead in 'Death's fate'."
"He really looks hot."
Jimin takes another look at the picture.
"He is."
Jihyo sighs dreamily.
"I don't even remember how often I imagined myself riding his cock, while my hands glide over his abs..."
Jihyo shakes her head, coming back to reality. Her cheeks a little red.
"But how are we gonna ask him?"
Jimin's question makes Eunbi think.
"I might have an idea."
Now that her time has come, Eunbi is almost too scared to act. There you are, on screen, currently reading out something on your cue card. You became a substitute host for someone else for one of the music shows.
Eunbi is standing in her waiting room, waiting for you to finish. Your deep voice makes her feel comfortable whenever she hears it. As if it consists of warm honey. Sweet and soothing. But strong and powerful.
The stylist gave you a completely different look compared to yours in the drama. Gone is the handsome, rugged rebel.
The scar on your cheek doesn't stand out as much and you hair is showing curls in the front.
Eunbi leaves her room as soon as you get off stage. She walks in the direction you have to come from, ready to follow through with the three women's plan.
"Hello, sunbaenim."
You bow respectfully as you see Eunbi walking towards you. It's hard to not stare at her. Especially since she is smaller than you. Which currently enables you to have a good look at her inviting cleavage.
She captured your attention for the first time, when you saw her performances during the water bomb festival. You never really saw her as a sexy, mature woman. More like a friendly and sweet senior. But more than enough pictures of her voluptuous chest started to draw you towards her.
Today she is wearing an all pink outfit. The sides of her waist are exposed and her shoulders are only covered by the straps of her top. Her tits look as good as they always do.
You have to stop yourself from staring at them. Instead, you look at her gorgeous face.
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Her cheeks seem to be tinted slightly more pink than usual.
"Hello, (y/n)."
She greets you with a seductive smile.
At least you think it is one. Or rather, you hope so.
"I wish you good luck for your performance. Can't wait to watch it."
It feels like your words are kinda awkward, but you can't help it. Eunbi just takes your breath away.
"Thank you. I hope you enjoy them."
You are puzzled for a moment. She only has one performance. What does she mean?
"Are you attending the year-end party by the way?"
"What party?"
Her question draws your attention away from her suggestive comment a moment ago.
"Oh, please don't tell me I forgot to invite you!"
Eunbi pretends to be truly embarrassed, hoping you swallow the bait.
"I-It's okay. I do have a lot of stuff to do anyway."
"No way."
Eunbi dramatically shakes her head.
"You have to join us now. I can't believe I forgot to invite you."
"Really, it's no big problem."
Eunbi takes your hand in hers.
"Please join us. The party takes place at a rented house at the beach. I will send you the address."
You nod hesitantly, still trying to get used to this new life. You were never popular before. And you never expected a famous and gorgeous person like Kwon Eunbi to invite you to her party.
"S-Sure. I will be there."
She flashes a great smile your way.
"But is there a dress code I have to worry about?"
Eunbi chuckles.
"It's just a party to celebrate the end of the year."
You nod in understanding.
"But if you want to shoot your shot with one of the guests, I suggest you bring your A game."
The confused look on your face makes her chuckle once again.
"You look cute like this. Bye."
She gives you a quick hug, before having to hurry towards the stage. Your heart is still pounding away. She just hugged you. Kwon Eunbi! And she told you you are cute!
Wait.
You are only able to properly comprehend what she said now. Is she trying to set you up with someone? Or is she telling you to hit on her? No way. Eunbi is eight years older than you. She surely wouldn't want to be with a boy like you.
Karina realizes that her sheets are wet as she wakes up. Her dream was more than just a lustful dream. She couldn't help herself after she saw your picture, so she watched all of the episodes of your drama.
Her dream was about you. And her. And how you fuck her from behind, pushing her head into the mattress. How you squeeze her tits with one hand, while the other holds onto her neck. How you cum on her chest afterwards, covering her tits with your thick load.
Karina still feels so horny after this dream, but she can't get herself off now. She has to change the sheets without her members finding out. And their schedule starts soon as well.
She groans in annoyance. Cuming in her sleep isn't as satisfying as consciously getting herself off.
Karina glances at her alarm clock, which shows the current date. Two more days to go. Two more days until she can make her dreams reality.
You always hated being unprepared. Just like right now. Looking at the house Eunbi mentioned, you have a weird feeling in your stomach.
Except for the address, she didn't tell you anything else. How many people are attending? And who? Does she have any particular events in mind? Or just drinking?
You were never a heavy drinker, but you brought a nice bottle of wine with you. A gift for Eunbi to say thank you for the invite.
The door opens a couple of moments after you rung the bell. You are surprised to say the least. In front of you is standing Park Jihyo.
You've never met her in person before. But you know she is a very nice and mature woman. And beautiful as hell too.
It's obvious that she had prior schedules. She is wearing a white crop top that shows off her shoulders and tummy. Her blue pants are held up by a turquoise belt. The small waist chain is highlighting her small waist. Her blue extensions make her look young and exciting.
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"Hi (y/n). We have been waiting for you."
"Hello. I'm not late, am I?"
Jihyo shakes her head.
"No, no. Please, come in."
She steps aside to let you in, closing the door behind you.
"Make yourself comfortable. I have to change into something nicer. The others should be in the kitchen."
"I doubt there is a nicer outfit than this."
You only realize you said those words after Jihyo playfully hits your arm.
What the hell, dude? As an actor you should be able to control your thoughts better.
You watch her walk up the stairs. Unable to look away, you see Jihyo's butt slightly sway from left to right, tightly hugged by the light blue fabric of her jeans.
You are in for more surprises when you reach the kitchen. Food is filling almost every surface. Tteobokki, noodles, pork belly, kimchi fried rice, chicken and more. Who is supposed to eat all of this? How many people are coming here? A hundred?
The woman who is standing with her back to you looks familiar. But you can't say for sure if this is Eunbi or not.
Her black dress shows off her back, only slightly covering it with a few bands. Her hair is resting on her naked skin, while it's neatly tugged behind her ear on the left side. Her dress isn't really highlighting her curves, at least not from the back. But you do notice that it's quite short. You would just need to hike it up a little and...
You stop yourself from continuing your thought.
"Good evening."
You make your presence known.
Turns out it really is Eunbi. You immediately recognize her beautiful face when she turns around.
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"Hello, (y/n). How have you been?"
"I'm doing alright."
"Did you bring this for us?"
She points at the bottle of wine you almost forgot you are holding.
"Yeah. I hope you enjoy it."
Eunbi takes the bottle out of your hands.
"Thank you very much."
"I tried to buy a good one, but all the older ones were gone already."
She shruggs her shoulders.
"Don't worry. I usually like younger stuff anyway."
She winks at you before turning back around. You feel your cheeks getting a little hot. You can't help but feel like Eunbi is flirting with you. But that would be crazy. Or not?
"Why don't you get comfortable in the living room? The table is already set."
It is? You are surprised. There is still more food? Did Eunbi clear out a whole grocery store or something? As you step into the living room you realize it's more like two grocery stores.
Karina let's her hand wander underneath her skirt. She can't help it. She has come to enjoy the sound of your soothing voice and the way you speak. Your scent slowly starts to make it's way towards her. A mix of wood and rain.
A moan almost escapes her lips, her pussy dripping wet. She is excited. She waited so long for this. To have someone to satisfy her needs.
You eyes fall onto the woman sitting at the table. Aespa's Karina? No way. You can't believe that those three women are at the same party as you.
Karina's outfit is all white, which reminds you of the snow outside. Her tits threaten to spill out of her top. It seems like the zipper is barely holding on. Her neckline is decorated with a pearl necklace, making her neck look a little longer. Her fuzy skirt looks kinda interesting.
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Something is going on. This is weird to you. As the four of you eat dinner, you wonder what's going on. Jihyo said that everyone else cancelled. It sounds unbelievable, but why would she lie?
And what's with these outfits? Sure, they all want to look nice. But you can't help but think that they all look a little too sexy.
Eunbi keeps wiping her mouth with her thumb after every spoon of Tteobokki. Which wouldn't have caught your attention if she wouldn't keep staring at you while she does it.
Jihyo's fit makes her look elegant, but you can't help but notice how big her chest looks. You have seen more than enough of her to know that she is wearing a push up bra. Her cleavage tries to seduce you whenever she reaches over the table to try new food. Which seems to happen quite often.
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After two bottles of wine, you start to relax a little more. The three women look like they are enjoying themselves as well. Your thoughts about their ulterior motives slowly fall into the back of your mind.
Once all of you are completely full, you offer Eunbi to help clean the table, but she insists on you staying seated. Karina excuses herself to go upstairs, while you and Jihyo talk some more.
"And dou have anything else planned?"
You shake your head at her question.
"I didn't get any new offers yet. But I'm positive. The current drama still has a couple of episodes that are going to air."
"I would love to see you in many more to come. I really enjoy your acting."
You can't help but smile at Jihyo's compliment.
"Oh."
You see her looking outside.
"I haven't even noticed that this house a hot tub."
Looking outside as well, you suddenly feel Jihyo tugging at the sleeve of your shirt.
"You wanna relax a little?"
"Isn't it like really cold outside? It's snowing."
Jihyo gets up and dismisses your worries with a wave of her hand.
"It's name is 'hot tub' for reason, right?"
"Sure."
You get up as well as Jihyo opens the glass door leading into the backyard.
Only now you realize that you don't have swimming trunks with you. Who could blame you though? You never expected to go for a swim tonight.
"Are you not coming?"
You are already standing in the door, while Jihyo is standing next to the hot tub, turning the heat on.
"Well, I don't have anyt swim trunks with me."
You see her chuckle.
"So?"
"Well..."
You don't know how to continue.
"We are just here to relax. Don't bother."
And with that you see Jihyo starting to get rid off her dress.
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You bite your lip as you see it drop to the floor. It turns out that you were wrong. Jihyo isn't wearing a push up bra. In fact, she isn't wearing a bra at all. Only a black high rise thong.
As if it's a normal thing to do for her, Jihyo slowly steps into the pool. You have to do your best to not stare at her. Her tits look as good as you imagined them.
Once she sits down, she motions you to join her with one finger. A seductive smile on her face.
You start to get rid off your clothes as well. When you reach your boxers, you glance at Jihyo. You are hard. There is no way you can fix that now. But this might be your golden opportunity.
You let your boxers fall to the ground. This time, Jihyo is the one staring. She already had her eyes on your abs. But your cock is demanding all of her attention now.
She smiles, realizing that she underestimated you. Not just your boldness, but also your size.
Stepping into the water, you sit down across from her. Jihyo's tits are underwater, blocking the view at her lower body. Not that you mind though. They are good enough on their own.
"You were right, it is a little cold."
You only realize that you were staring as you hear her speak up. The goosebumps on her skin make you feel cold as well.
"But I know just the thing to make us hot."
Your eyes must be wide open as you watch her coming closer. Her eyes are locked on yours as Jihyo stands in front of you. Now, the water is only reaching her waist. She looks down at you, a soft smile on her face.
"It's time for dessert, don't you think?"
Without waiting for your response, Jihyo starts to lower herself.
You can't believe that this is actually happening.
You feel her folds slowly grazing your tip underwater. Her tits are now exactly at the right height for you to bury your face in them.
Jihyo seems to have the same thoughts. One of her hands wanders to the back of your head, slowly pushing you forward.
You start kissing Jihyo's tits as you feel her taking your cock into her pussy.
Jihyo doesn't seem to care much about foreplay.
She already starts to moan as she feels how you fill her up. She didn't have cock in her for months. Her tits are sensitive as she feels your lips dance on her skin.
Jihyo has to place both of her hands on your shoulders, needing stability. Her legs are already becoming weak and she has to use your body as leverage to push herself up and down.
As she slowly starts to ride your cock, you take one of Jihyo's nipples into your mouth. Your hand cups the other breast as you suck on this one.
"God, yes."
Jihyo sighs, finally able to enjoy the thing she longed for for month. Even if the other girls had other plans, she just couldn't pass up on this opportunity.
Her body starts to move faster, the pleasure in your groin increasing. Jihyo's pussy is warming your hard cock, hugging it tightly so you don't feel too cold.
"Fuck. Your cock feels so good."
Another moan as she impales herself on your shaft, the water making splashing noises as she moves up and down.
"Suck on my tits, baby."
You are already doing exactly that. And you don't plan on stopping anytime soon. Her full mounds keep pressing against your face as she occasionally rocks back and forth in your lap.
As Jihyo's pleasure increases, you start to taste something else besides her skin. The sweet taste of her milk floods your mouth. It's nothing more than a small dribble, but it's enough for you to become even harder.
You already thought you were at your limit, Jihyo as well. But she can feel how you stiffen inside of her, parting her walls even further.
"Fuck, yes. Suck on mommy's tits, baby."
You are surprised for a moment, but you are not complaining. Jihyo always gave you mommy vibes anyway.
"That's a good boy."
She keeps praising you as she fucks herself on your cock. Both of her tits are releasing a little milk by now. You make sure to not waste a drop, enjoying the sweet taste.
Until now, Jihyo's riding was quite slow, her main focus on making you suck her tits. But as you empty her tits further and further, her desire to roughly bounce on you increases.
"I wanna fucking cum on your cock."
She starts to increase her pace, making it harder for you to stay attached to her nipples.
"Mommy wants your cock in her pussy so bad."
She moans and sighs, the built up tension in her body needs to be released. She can't even remember the last time she felt this good.
No members she has to take care of, no fans, no managers, no appointments or interviews or shoots.
Just your cock in her pussy, hitting her g-spot everytime she fully sinks into your lap.
Jihyo starts to lose her rhythm. The pleasure washes over her like the waves she is creating in the hot tub. Her hands have moved by now, both of them on the back of your head.
She hugs you tightly, pushing your head into her chest.
"Good boy. You are doing so well."
Jihyo keeps moaning as her pleasure increases.
Your hands are folded on her wet back, making sure that she is not able to fall off. For a moment, you wonder where her panties have gone, but this situation is almost too much for you to be thinking about anything else.
Unbeknownst to you, Jihyo's thong is still lazily swimming around her left ankle. It's slightly sticking to her skin as she keeps bouncing in your lap.
"Mommy is gonna cum on your cock, baby!"
Days and weeks of pent up pleasure are starting to make their way towards Jihyo's core. They hit her dam repeatedly, trying to break out of her.
"Harder, baby! Make me take your cock!"
You switch from just holding her, to pulling her body into your lap. The added force makes Jihyo lose control.
A couple of moments later, the dam inside her body breaks open. Waves after waves of pleasure rock her body as her juices mix with the water in the hot tub.
You feel Jihyo's tight pussy contracting around you, trying to make you cum as well. Doing your best to hold on, you don't want to cum too early.
You want to pleasure Jihyo for longer, now knowing that she has too much sexual tension in her body. You are more than willing to release all of it.
"Oh Goood!"
She moans loudly, her head rolling back, her eyes closed.
Jihyo's orgasm is even more powerful that she expected herself. It feels like hours for the both of you, until her body starts to calm down.
"Your cock fills my pussy so well, baby."
Jihyo starts grinding on you once again. It's obvious that one orgasm just isn't enough to satisfy her needs.
"Be a good boy and suck on mommy's tits."
She has come back to her slow, sensual riding, which enables you to capture her nipples with your mouth again.
Just like before, Jihyo starts to ride you faster, the longer you suck on her tits.
"Holy fuck."
She sighs feeling you attacking her chest as she keeps grinding against you. The woman on top of you feels that she is pushing you towards your orgasm. But she isn't satisfied yet.
Jihyo slows down once again. Her grinding isn't enough for you to cum, but it almost feels like torture. You are close, but not close enough. Instead, her pussy keeps pushing you towards the edge, only for you to hang on by a thread.
Meanwhile, you bring Jihyo closer towards her second orgasm. Your work on her tits doesn't stay unnoticed.
"Good boy."
Her praises make you work harder, earning more moans from her.
"Fuck."
Another deep moan and Jihyo cums for a second time. It's less violent this time, but you can still feel how some of the build up tension leaves her body.
"So good..."
She coos as she cums down from her high. Her pussy almost painfully tight by now.
"I think it's time for your reward, baby."
Jihyo increases her pace once more. Because she has kept you near the edge of your orgasm, it doesn't take long for you to feel the familiar pull in your groin.
"Gonna cum."
You groan, unable to say much more.
Only now do you realize that you are having unprotected sex with Park Jihyo. The realization hits you like a truck, almost making your orgasm immediately. The fact that you are balls deep inside Twice's leader is already hard enough to compensate. But you are actually inside of her without any protection. Is she even taking the pill?
If she is not...
The heat of the moment made you forget about the risks. But now it somewhat turns you on. What would happen if you breed Park Jihyo?
"You can't cum inside."
She moans, making you realize that she isn't on the pill. And that you are not wearing a condom. Which means...
"Naughty boy. Thinking you could breed me."
Despite her words, Jihyo keeps fucking herself onto your cock. She doesn't stop.
"What would the public say if you cum deep inside my pussy?"
The thought brings you towards the edge. If your orgasm is a cliff, you would be standing on the edge with one foot hanging in the air. One more step...
"We can't have that."
Jihyo's tone and words make you lose your hold on the edge of this cliff.
"It's gonna be much safer if I swallow that load of yours."
Your hands have moved to her wide hips by now. You keep pulling her into your lap, taking control of her pace.
"I'm gonna have a belly full of cum either way."
The thought of filling Jihyo's tummy makes you groan, slamming into her from underneath her.
"Besides, we have the whole night. Maybe I would be willing to let you breed me at one point.."
Your body malfunctions. While your hands try to lift Jihyo off your cock, your hips try to thrust upwards as high as possible. You don't want to cum inside, the risks too high, and yet you want to feel her pussy, milking your cock.
Jihyo gets off your cock right before you explode.
"Paint my throat, baby."
She glides into the water, opening her mouth. As you start to see stars, Jihyo wraps her lips around your cock.
"Fuck!"
You groan as you finally orgasm. The long build up makes you shoot a bigger load than you expected. You fill Jihyo's throat within seconds. Your warm cum fills her completely as she tries to gulp it down. It's sticky consistency makes it harder to do so.
You feel Jihyo's throat tighten around you as she coughs up some of your cum, letting it spill out of her mouth.
It takes her a couple of moments to swallow all of it. Once she is done, Jihyo opens her mouth, showing that her mouth is empty.
"You cum tastes amazing."
"Thank you."
You don't know what else to say. You never expected to hear a compliment like that from her. Or any compliment for that matter.
"You should go upstairs. The bathrooms have towels."
You get what she means. You think that she is trying to hide this from the other girls.
"What about you?"
Jihyo chuckles and motions for you to leave.
"I'm gonna enjoy myself a little longer."
As you slide open the glass door, Jihyo calls for you again.
"There should be condoms in one of the bathrooms. Take them. You're gonna need them."
She gives you a seductive smile as you step back inside.
You hear that Eunbi is still in the kitchen. What is taking her so long? It sounds like she is using the hand blender. But for what? You already had dinner. And no one said anything about dessert. At least not for now.
But you don't complain if it means that Eunbi won't be in your path.
Reaching the top of the stairs, you look around. Aware that you are still naked, you want to make a decision quickly. There are two bedrooms, both of them have bathrooms. But which one is empty? You remember Karina coming up here for a little privacy earlier. She got a call from someone, if you remember correctly.
But you don't hear anything right now.
You decide to just go for it. Opening the door on the right, you seem to be lucky. Karina isn't in this one.
You drop your clothes on the bed and walk towards the bathroom. Seems like this is the one Jihyo mentioned. You find four boxes of different sizes on the dresser. Why did Jihyo buy so many condoms? Even if she didn't know your size, why a whole box? And why didn't she know which bathroom they were in? She must have put them here earlier. Or...
It feels like someone just opened your eyes. How can you be so dumb?
Eunbi's rushed invitation, the fact that you are alone with the three of them, their outfits, their flirting. How didn't you pick up on all of that?
You stand there in the bathroom. Towel in one hand, a box of condoms in the other. How is this even real?
"Seems like you found them."
Karina is standing the doorframe, her eyes glancing at your half erect cock, before moving back to yours.
"Wanna put them to good use?"
Still too surprised at what is actually going on, you are unable to answer.
Karina chuckles at the face you're making.
"What? Is this really so unbelievable?"
You slowly nod.
"Well, let me spell it out for you."
Karina steps inside the bathroom.
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You watch her hand wandering in the direction of her zipper. Painfully slow, she starts to open her top.
"The three of us are horny. Desperate even."
She reveals more of her cleavage as she keeps talking.
"I need a man who can suck on my tits and make me feel good."
Only a second later and her tits are gonna spill out. Karina stops right before that happens. To your disappointment.
Instead, she steps forward.
"And I need a man who can rail me into the mattress. Make me scream."
Her hand finds your cock and she lazily starts to stroke it.
Only now do you realize how ridiculously short her skirt is. You have a good view of her tits now. She doesn't even have to open her top fully.
"Are you in?"
After just having Jihyo use you for her pleasure, you have the need to take out your own on someone else. Your fingers itch for you to just push Karina into the wall and fuck her brains out.
But you hold back for now.
"Of course I am."
She takes the box of condoms out of your hand, opening it and taking out a pack of one.
"Let's go then."
Her other hand takes yours as she leads you back into the bedroom.
"I need you to get hard enough first."
Karina motions for you to sit on the bed. As you move your clothes out of the way and sit on the edge, Karina kneels down in front of you. You watch as she finally opens her top completely. She isn't wearing a bra either.
Her tits bounce a little as they are freed, almost hypnotizing you. She takes both of them into her hands.
"You like them?"
You nod, licking your lips. The taste of Jihyo's still lingers inside your mouth.
But instead of letting you suck on them, Karina wraps them around your cock.
Her soft flesh slowly makes you hard. The warmth of her body adds to the sensation as she starts to move.
Slowly. Up and down. Up and down. You've never received a boobjob before. But it feels great. Better than you expected. Almost as if you are fucking her pussy.
Your groan makes Karina smile as she watches your tip glide in and out of her cleavage. The condom is lying on the ground next to her, forgotten for now.
"I can't wait to be filled by this."
She nods towards your cock, before spitting into her cleavage. The lewd action makes you even harder as you feel her warm saliva. It starts to coat your cock as she keeps bouncing her tits around it.
You are almost fully hard by now. If it weren't for Jihyo earlier, you would probably be on the edge of orgasm already.
"This feels good."
"Of course it does. This is what they are made for."
You see Karina shifting a little, indicating that she really can't wait much longer.
"You are hard enough now."
She let's go of her tits, making your cock lie against her cleavage without any friction around it.
Picking up the condom, Karina opens the package.
"I hope this fits you. I don't know if we have bigger ones."
You expected her to put it on herself, or just to give it to you. But you never expected this.
Karina pust the condom in her mouth, right between her teeth. As if she is showing off a round candy. She leans down and you feel her lips on your cock.
Slowly, Karina starts to pull the condom over your dick, giving you head in the process.
It takes two tries, but she eventually reaches your base. Her tight throat massages your cock and you can see what's written on the package that's ripped open and lying on the ground once again. Extra thin.
Of course.
Being needy herself, Karina doesn't waste much time. Her blowjob only lasts for a couple of moments, before she lifts her head off your cock.
"I didn't have anything in my pussy for ages."
She gets off her knees.
"You want me to go slow."
Your interpretation proofs itself wrong.
"No. I want you to use my hole like a fleshlight. Destroy my pussy."
That is something you would never say no to.
Getting up as well, you turn Karina around. She expects you to bend her over the edge of the bed. Instead, you make both of you spin around, before pushing her to her knees once more.
With her head pressed against the carpet, Karina can't see what you are doing, but she can feel how you make her raise her ass.
"Fuck, yes."
She moans as you put her into the perfect position. Her skirt slides off by itself and is now bunched up around her waist.
Without much build up you insert your cock into her pussy.
"God, yes."
Karina's moan is louder this time.
Since you just fucked Jihyo, you can't help but compare the two. Karina is definitely tighter. There is no reason to doubt that, although you think that Jihyo was wetter. Or maybe that was just the water in the hot tub.
Either way, you start to thrust into Karina. Her right cheek gets pushed further into the carpet as you bottom out inside of her in one stroke.
She feels your weight on top of her as you almost stand above her.
Half standing, half kneeling you start to fuck Karina. You don't start slow. Just like she wanted, you use her pussy for your own pleasure as soon as you thrust inside of her for a second time.
Karina mewls into the carpet. She didn't expect you to go this hard immediately.
"Fuck!"
She can't hold back a shout as she feels you hitting her cervix.
Meanwhile, Eunbi uses the hand blender incorrectly. Instead of making food, she uses it to get herself off. She couldn't help it. She got turned on by you during dinner, but she is too shy to make the first move.
Sitting on the cold tiles of the kitchen floor, Eunbi has the blender stuffed inside her needy pussy. It's obviously not as good as your cock. But it definitely satisfies her enough for now.
The moans she hears from upstairs inform her of the fact that you are currently busy with fucking Karina's pussy. The younger woman's moans echo through the whole house.
Eunbi's mind is floating off into the dreamworld. Her improvised vibrator turns into your cock. Her hand in her black hair turns into yours.
With a quiet, almost shy shout, Eunbi cums around the vibrator. Her slick stains the steel, making it slippery. Some of her juices stain the tiles.
The sounds of you fucking Karina don't just attract Eunbi's attention.
By now, Jihyo has made her way up to the first floor. She is leaning against the wall of the room you are in, right next to the door. Her fingers are buried knuckle deep inside her pussy.
"Harder! Please!"
Karina's earlier dominance is gone by now. Just like her dignity. It's not like she can still save face now. With her head pressed against the floor and her ass high in the air. Her pussy being used by you while Karina is only able to moan and shout.
After Jihyo called herself mommy, you want to experience something similar with Karina.
"Tell me how good my cock feels, baby girl."
You grunt, making Karina shudder.
She asked Eunbi and Jihyo for a man, not a boy. Although she was sceptical at first, because of your age, she agreed to give you a shoot.
And right now, Karina feels a lot of things. And regret isn't one of them.
She loves how you treat her. Like a wet hole to jerk off your cock with. Like a toy, it's only use to make you cum.
"It feels so good! Fuck me, (y/n)!"
You chuckle as you take a step forward. You push Karina's lower body forward, while her upper body stays in place. The girl's weight is held up by her head, not her legs or arms.
Karina feels the blood in her system rush towards her head.
"Call me properly."
You give her right ass cheek a slap, making it jiggle a little.
"Oh god, daddy!"
Karina immediately knows what you want to hear. Her own preferences coming to light as you keep fucking her into the floor.
"Your cock is so big. You tearing my little pussy open!"
You take another step forward.
Karina feels how her feet are being lifted off the ground. She instinctively wraps her legs around your waist. She is almost doing a handstand by now.
Unbeknownst to you, Jihyo rests her head against the wall behind her as she cums around her fingers. Karina's loud moans made her orgasm once more. Her pussy dripping wet while she only thinks about being able to fuck you again very soon. She is slowly sliding down the wall, until she is sitting on the ground, needing to take a breather.
Karina is unable to take a break though. Her hair is a mess already as she is almost floating in the air. You keep her body steady as you keep fucking her.
"Daddy!"
Her shout signals her incoming orgasm.
With another loud shriek, Karina falls over the edge. Her pussy squeezes your cock. Moan after moan escapes her mouth as her body shakes.
You keep her in position, not caring if she needs a breather or not. It doesn't matter to you if she needs to calm down. You are too far gone by now.
You grip on Karina's hips tighter as you keep thrusting inside of her. You are standing directly above her by now.
"Daddy! Daddy! I'm gonna cum again!"
Karina didn't expect herself to be this needy. To be this sensitive. You keep wracking her pussy in this unconventional position.
It makes her orgasm for a second time. Another shriek leaves her mouth as she cums around your cock. Her pussy becomes a little tighter, while her body starts to become lifeless.
She is too tired to continue. And yet, she can't force herself to ask you to stop. The opposite is actually the case.
"Harder, daddy!"
She can't stop asking for more as you have your way with her pussy.
Karina cums for a third time, when you completely pull out of her pussy. The lack of your cock makes her orgasm around thin air, making her even more desperate for your cock.
You spin her body around, wanting to be able to look at her face while you fuck her.
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You fold Karina in half, leaning on her legs as you thrust back inside.
"Fuck yes, daddy!"
Her eyes are wide open as she looks up at you. Your cock is drilling into her pussy hitting her cervix with every thrust.
You sling your right arm around her leg, reaching for her clit.
Karina tries to shake her head. But she can only feel the back of her head rub against the carpet.
Your thumb works her clit while you keep thrusting into Karina from above.
"Cum again, baby girl."
Karina is unable to answer. How is she supposed to cum for a forth time? Her body is completely spend. Completely wrecked.
And yet, her pussy craves more. It gladly takes your pounding as you reach forward with your left hand and take a fistful of Karina's hair. Her legs are being held in place by your own body.
"I told you to cum."
"Daddy!"
As if her body only waited for your permission, Karina orgasms one more time.
Her eyes roll to the back of her head. Her pussy tightens and you feel some of her slick leave her pussy. Her lips are glistening with her juices.
Karina stares up at you as she tries to recover from her forth orgasm. She is breathing heavily as you finally start to slow down.
There is still one thing she wanted you to do to her.
Using your current position, you lift your weight off Karina's legs and force yourself between them. You grab her waist with both hands.
She moans as you start to change your position, your cock still deep inside her pussy.
You slowly pick her up. Karina's body lifts off the floor as you start to carry her. Her legs wrap around your body, trying to keep her balance.
Karina's hands hold onto your neck as you start to thrust into her again.
"Fuck, daddy."
She sighs, too tired to scream right now. Her pussy feels used. She feels sore. It's an unfamiliar feeling, but Karina is able to enjoy it. After months of no sex, she is finally getting her pussy fucked properly.
You impale Karina on your cock as you stand in the middle of the room. Your hands have found her ass by now, squeezing her cheeks as you lift her up and down.
You aren't fucking her fast, which means that Karina can relax a little. She is getting used to this new position as you slowly move in and out of her.
"Your cock is so good, daddy."
Another sigh of hers makes you lean your head down.
You haven't given her tits any attention so far at all. Her soft skin tastes a little salty as you start to drag your tongue across her chest.
"That's it. Suck your baby girl's tits, daddy."
Karina moans as she arches her back, giving you a better angle at her chest.
You start to suck on her tits as you make her slowly bounce on your cock. The pace is too slow for you to cum, but it's almost the perfect pace for Karina.
The slow fucking turns her on as you carry her as if she isn't weighing anything at all. It enables you to enjoy her tits fully, while cleaning her skin of her sweat.
"Daddy."
Another deep sigh escapes Karina's lips as she feels how you slowly push her towards another orgasm. It feels a little different this time. As if it's starts from her tits and it's slowly making it's way towards her core. Your cock in her pussy makes Karina clench around it as you keep sucking on her tits.
"Almost."
She is unable to say more, her body too weak to do much more but enjoy the pleasure she is receiving.
You let your tongue flick against her nipples as you keep squeezing Karina's ass cheeks. Her soft flesh in your hands makes you want to pound her harder again. But you are currently focusing on her tits, trying to make her cum again
"Mmmmm!"
Karina is unable to open her mouth as she cums for a fifth time. Her nipples are covered in your spit as her pussy contracts around your cock. Her body becomes stiff for a moment, before she becomes a lifeless weight in your arms.
You keep up your lazy thrusting while you start to explore more of her body. You lick the salty sweat off Karina's skin, while you wait for her to recover.
Your tongue glides over her collarbone and her neck until it finally finds its way inside her mouth. Karina can taste her own sweat as you keep fucking her slowly.
"Make yourself cum, daddy."
She mumbles into your mouth.
"Use me."
Without a word, you squeeze her cheeks harder to have a better grip.
Your eyes meet and Karina feels a shiver run down her spine.
You give her one deep thrust, pulling her onto your cock while you push forward.
"Fuck!"
Karina's eyes roll to the back of her head as she feels you filling her completely.
"I'm gonna use your body, baby girl."
You kiss her one last time, before you pick up your pace.
"Do it, daddy! It's yours!"
Karina moans loudly as you start to destroy her pussy once again. Just like she wanted. You use her tight cavern as a fleshlight, pulling her onto your cock, whenever your thrust into her. She is helpless, unable to do anything but take your cock.
Not that she is complaining, really. Karina can't remember the last time she felt this good.
You drive yourself towards your own orgasm, using Karina's body as a tool. Her pussy's tight grip makes it hard not to pull out completely, which means you are always halfway inside of her.
Karina's head rocks back and forth as you keep fucking her, reaching your orgasm eventually.
"Karina."
You groan her name, trying to tell her you are about to cum.
"I want to feel it."
She sighs into your ear, her voice to weak to produce a proper moan.
"Feel it on my body. On my face."
It only takes you a couple of more thrusts, before you finally have to pull out. Karina almost falls to the ground, her legs too weak to hold onto your hips.
You make sure she doesn't hurt herself, dropping her on the bed. She slides off the edge, half kneeling, half lying on the floor.
Karina's face is dripping with sweat. Her hair sticks to her skin. She opens her mouth, her eyes wide open.
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You don't even have to do anything anymore. Only aiming your cock at her, after pulling off your condom, you start to unload on Karina's face.
Thick ropes of your cum hit the bridge of her nose, her cheeks and her mouth. Some gets into her left eye, making her flinch as she feels it.
"So much, daddy."
Karina sighs as you smear the last drops of your cum on her red lips. She kisses your cock, starting to clean it as you take a fistful of her hair.
You admire your work, making Karina look up at you as she sucks your cock.
You still can't believe your luck. And this isn't even the end. There is still one more person waiting for you.
You planned on making your move on Eunbi after you came on Karina's face. But you didn't get very far. Jihyo intercepted you in the hallway. Not that you really mind though.
"That's a good boy."
She smiles up at you as you keep fucking her tits. The hot water of the shower hits both of your bodies as you are standing in front of a kneeling Jihyo.
She has wrapped her tits around your cock, while she occasionally catches your tip with her mouth.
"Be a good boy for mommy. Cum on mommy's tits."
She can feel how close you are. Despite just having fucked Karina, the combination of Jihyo's blowjob and now her boobjob pushes you closer towards your next orgasm.
"Fuck!"
You groan as you start to unload. The warm water hits your chest as you cum all over Jihyo's. Her cleavage is painted by your thick semen.
"Baby..."
Jihyo coos as she scoops up some of your cum. Most of its slowly gets washed away by the water. She sucks her finger clean, looking up at you.
"Delicious."
You almost choke on the fortune cookie in your mouth. After taking a shower with Jihyo, the four of you started to eat some ice cream. All servings are decorated with a fortune cookie.
The reason for your new near death experience? Karina purposefully letting some of her vanilla ice cream fall into her cleavage.
She had to take a shower as well and is now wearing one of the white bathrobes. Jihyo and you both have your old clothes on.
Jihyo can't help but grin at Karina's antics, knowing what the younger girl is up to. You glance at Eunbi, her cheeks a little red once more as she watches the youngest girl's bold actions.
Eunbi walks into the kitchen, holding two empty bowls. She asked if you could help clean the dishes and of course you said yes. She watches you for a moment as you clean the two bowls you brought in yourself.
Eunbi catches herself staring at your broad back as you turn around.
"Give them to me."
You reach out to her with both hands.
Because of the lack of another person's touch and all the things she heard over the last hour, Eunbi almost pushes her chest forward, instead of handing you the bowls.
Once she does, you wink at her, before resuming your cleaning.
"Come on. This is not so hard."
Eunbi tries to tell herself that. But for some reason, she can't help it.
"C-Can you s-suck my...?"
Her cheeks are the deepest of red as you turn around.
"Can you suck m-my tits?"
You chuckle.
Eunbi tries to hide her face behind her hands. What was she thinking?
But you grab her wrists, putting them down on her sides.
"I was waiting for you to ask."
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Her eyes grow wide as you reach behind her, looking for the tie that's securing her dress. She feels your chest press against her face as you need to lean down a little.
Eunbi inhales your scent, closing her eyes. This is really happening.
She feels how you slowly unwrap the back of her dress as if she is a present. The front becomes loose as well and finally you pull down the black fabric.
You're met with a black bra that is holding up her beautiful pair of tits. Unable to take your hands off Eunbi, you let them wonder over her tight tummy, before cupping her mounds over her bra.
The oldest of the three women lets out a shaky breath.
"Are they alright?"
You almost laugh at her question.
"Alright? They are the best I've ever seen."
You hesitate for a second, before you add the last part of your sentence.
"Mommy."
You see goosebumps forming on her skin as you call Eunbi that. She doesn't seem to be dominant, but she strikes you as a rather caring older woman.
Opening her bra, you free her tits.
Eunbi watches you closely, biting her lip, while you lean down to kiss her chest.
Another shaky breath of hers makes you smile.
"You are so hot, mommy."
You're turned on by the fact that Eunbi is nearly a decade older than you.
"Please suck on them."
She sighs in pleasure as she feels your lips tracing all over skin.
You finally capture one of her nipples with your mouth, eliciting a moan from her. Another one quickly follows as you cup her other breast.
You feel her hand in your hair on the back of your head. She pushes you further into her chest, silently asking for more.
You pinch her nipple with your fingers, making her flinch.
"Yes, baby."
She murmurs, unable to hide her arousal.
It doesn't take long until Eunbi starts to lactate. She is more sensitive than Jihyo and soon, you are able to taste her milk. It's also a little sweeter. Almost as sweet as the ice cream you just had.
You are almost able to drink from her tits as she keeps lactating. Switching sides occasionally, you try to get as much as you can.
Eunbi is a mumbling mess by now as she leans against the kitchen counter behind her.
"Good boy."
She purrs as you keep sucking on her tits.
The constant rise of her arousal pushes Eunbi closer towards her orgasm. She never expected this to happen. She never even thought it could be possible that she lactates and cums at the same time.
But she does so now. A mewl escapes her lips as she ruins her panties. She has to keep herself steady against the counter, while you keep sucking her tits.
"How does this feel so good?"
Eunbi moans. She never had someone worshipping her tits like you do right now. And who can blame you? They are perfect in every way.
A second orgasm follows shortly after the first. Eunbi's legs quiver as she cums once more. This time, some of her slick starts to run down her thighs.
As much as you like sucking on Eunbi's tits and enjoying her milk, you also have the desire to orgasm eventually.
At one point, that desire becomes too strong to resist.
While you keep sucking her right tit, you fish another condom out of your pocket. You spin the two of you around, so that Eunbi is standing in front of you. You turn her around, making her back face you. Bending her over, you can see how her dress stretches over her ass.
"Fuck, mommy."
You can't help but squeeze Eunbi's cheeks over the fabric.
"Oh yes, baby. Give it to me."
It feels like Eunbi is slowly losing her shyness.
You reach between her legs, feeling the soft skin of her cum covered thighs. Quickly pulling down her black panties, you can feel how drenched they are.
"Mommy is so wet for you, baby."
You are happy to hear that Eunbi is starting to call herself that.
Sliding up the hem of her dress, you admire Eunbi's backside.
"Put in please."
You quickly put on the condom, before aligning your cock with Eunbi's snatch.
"Oh my god."
She moans as you push inside. You feel her walls parting as you penetrate her pussy for the first time. It's almost on a similar level than Karina's, although it's much wetter. You are actually surprised that Eunbi doesn't seem to be a squirter. Or maybe she needs to warm up first? You decide to find out.
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Eunbi's head sinks onto the electric stove. Her black hair is sprawled out all over the glass.
"More please."
She moans, not satisfied with how slow you are thrusting.
Slowly picking up the pace, you make Eunbi's head rub against the black surface.
You can't believe that you are fucking a woman like her. In the kitchen. With her head on the stove.
This still feels like a fantasy to you.
"Give mommy that cock."
Another sigh from her makes you fuck her even faster. Your hips meet hers with every thrust.
Reaching out, you take a hold of both her arms and place them behind her back. Your free hand moves to remove the hair out of Eunbi's face.
"Oh my!"
She yelps as you pull her up by her arms, while you pound her harder.
Her upper body is now hanging in midair as you take her from behind. The moans she is producing can probably be heard throughout the whole house as her volume increases.
"Yes! Yes! Yes!"
Instead of lying on the stove, her hair is now getting dragged across it over and over again with every thrust into her tight cunt.
More slick is running down her legs as you enjoy Eunbi's pussy to the fullest.
After some time, Eunbi's body finally proves too much for you. You try to fight your impending orgasm, but it's no use. You know you are going to cum sooner than later.
Eunbi can feel how your cock grows a little more. How it becomes a little stiffer.
"Oh yes, baby."
Her eyes are glued to the window. Because it's dark outside, it's almost as good as a mirror, reflecting the lewd scene that's going on inside the kitchen.
Her next sentence surprises you completely.
"Please breed me, baby. Cum in my pussy."
She sighs needily as you keep fucking a bend over Eunbi.
Is she for real? You already fucked Jihyo raw. So where could be the harm in fucking Eunbi without a condom, too?
But she is asking you to cum in her.
"Fill my pussy up. Shoot your load inside of me."
Her wide eyes make you think that she is just as surprised as you at her words.
"A-Are you safe?"
It feels like time is slowing down. Eunbi shakes her head no as her hair flies in all directions. Your orgasm reaches you faster than you thought it would. You only have a moment to decide.
"Please. Breed my needy pussy."
Eunbi moans deeply.
Her words push you over the edge. But you don't do as she says. Instead, you cum inside the condom.
Despite being disappointed, Eunbi can feel your cock twitch inside of her. She can feel the warmth of your cum inside her pussy.
"That was so good."
Her breath is as heavy as yours as she leans over the stove.
You check your watch. It's almost midnight.
Eunbi is lying in front of you on the dinner table. Her legs are wrapped around your waist, not letting you go. She is completely naked by now.
Karina is kneeling on one of the chairs, sucking on Eunbi's tits. By the way her eyes are closed, you can see how much she enjoys drinking the older girl's milk.
Jihyo is standing next to you, her hand running along Eunbi's left leg.
You have been taking turns, fucking the three of them throughout the whole night. You can't even count how many orgasms you had and you can't remember how often the girls came already.
The whole house smells like sex after you've fucked the three of them for hours.
"Fuck her faster."
Jihyo eggs you on, just like she did earlier, when you were using Karina's mouth as if it was just another wet hole.
The sight of Eunbi lying on the table is already enough for your eyes. But the evidence of your torture makes you fuck her even harder.
After finding out about her breeding kink, you and the two other women started to tease Eunbi.
You are currently wearing the last of the condoms that Jihyo bought in your size. The used ones? They are all spread out over Eunbi's body. One is placed on her shoulder, another one is in her right hand. Two are decorating her stomach.
They are all still full with your cum, painting one of the dirtiest pictures of Eunbi you could've ever thought of.
The last orgasm you had, made you shoot your load right onto her pussy. Not inside. But right above her clit, staining her neatly trimmed pubic hair.
"Please."
Eunbi whines, still hoping for you to cum in her.
"Cream pie me, baby. Breed mommy's pussy."
Her words become dirtier by the second.
Jihyo joins in as well.
"Cum in her tight pussy. Put a baby in her."
You are fully aware that you could get Eunbi pregnant if you cum in her. And it seems like she knows it too. Or rather, she doesn't anymore. As if her mind is too focused on you breeding her. She doesn't even think about the risks anymore.
"Please! Paint my pussy!"
Eunbi mewls as her cunt contracts around you. Another mini orgasm rushing through her system. How many already washed through her, she doesn't know. The number too high for her to keep track of.
One more minute, until the time strikes midnight. One more minute until the year 2024 begins. And hopefully one more minute of you, pounding Eunbi's pussy into oblivion.
"She would look so good with your baby in her belly."
Karina joins the two other women, trying to convince you.
"Right."
Jihyo whispers into your ear.
"Impregnate that slutty pussy."
"Eunbi."
You groan her name, still not entirely sure on what to do. Do you really give in to all of them? Or should you do what's safe?
"Please."
Eunbi whines, begging for a cream pie.
"Cum inside. Fill me with that delicious cum."
The clock shows that it's midnight as you pull out of Kwon Eunbi's pussy. As if time is slowing down, you pull off the condom.
One last time, you thrust inside of her. You can't believe you are actually doing this.
Your load fills Eunbi's pussy, making her orgasm once again. Her pussy milks you dry, trying to make herself pregnant. Your cum floods her belly, turning her insides into a sticky mess.
The night is a complete success. Instead of just satisfying the three older women and fulfilling your wildest fantasies, you do breed Keon Eunbi.
And not just once. Until the sun rises and the new day of the new year starts, you breed Eunbi again and again. Pumping her pussy full with your cum, almost drowning her in it.
--------------
(Additional scene)
Happy new years everyone!
I hope you enjoyed the last story of my December special. I really liked writing the four requests you all voted for. If the opportunity presents itself again, I will definitely do this again.
But because I have a lot going on in my life during the beginning of 2024, I will barely have time to write. The next fics I want to write are: the next chapter for "Take what you can", the second chapter of Sana's small series (on Tumblr) and the first part of another small series.
It's gonna take a while, until I will be able to upload them, but I hope you stick around until then.
I also want to thank everyone one of you for supporting my writing. I can't believe that I only started writing on Tumblr seven months ago and I already got this many followers.
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1665 is an incredible number. Thank you so so much.
I wish you all a great start into the new year. Stay healthy and enjoy the next 12 months of your life.
Happy new years! Thank you for reading!
1K notes · View notes
reiding-writing · 4 months
Note
since you are a person of angst, i was thinking about spencer x reader where in the heat of an argument, spencer says he will only forgive her when she dies.
so in one of the cases the reader is shot by spencer and sighs "now you can finally forgive me"
happy or sad ending, whatever you want
muah 💘
forgiven [ s.r ]
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Summary:
You lied to him with good intentions, but when he finds out the truth he says something detrimental in the heat of the moment. After weeks of radio silence any chance of reconciliation is almost lost after you get critically injured in the field.
WARNINGS: SPOILERS FOR IAN DOYLE ARC, harsh arguments, death wishes, gun mentions, major character injury, details of gun related injury
pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader
genre: ANGST with a happy ending
wc: 3.7k
masterlist!!
a/n: left the ending up to majority vote and majority vote said happy ending, you guys are so boring /j
happy ending or not this is still nice and jam packed with angst for all my angst enjoyers <3
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Emily Prentiss had been buried for seven months.
So how on earth was she stood five feet away from Spencer with a half guilty expression on her face like she’d put salt in his coffee rather than the fact that she’d been in Paris, fully alive and well whilst he mourned her ‘death’ for months.
But he couldn’t be mad at her. Of course he couldn’t.
Instead his gaze turned towards the way Hotch, JJ, and you were stood at the head of the table, completely unfazed whilst the rest of the team stood in shock at the fact that the friend that they’d buried was still alive.
He couldn’t help that small feeling of loathing mixing with the shock when Emily pulled him into a hug, his arms loosely rested around her back as his eyes narrowed slightly in your direction.
He’d let you see him at his absolute worst, an emotional, crying, pathetic mess of a person who was desperately mourning over the loss of one of his closest friends.
And you’d let him. Whilst knowing that Emily was still alive.
His emotional state had gotten so bad over the last few months that you’d even temporarily moved him in with you to make sure he wasn’t endangering himself.
He’d spiralled into a state where he couldn’t be trusted to live on his own. And you’d let him.
He didn’t speak to you during your drive home that night, and you knew why.
You knew he was going to be angry at you, and you couldn’t blame him for it.
What you didn’t expect, was for him to immediately start unrooting himself from your apartment; Clearing out drawers and stuffing his clothes in the suitcase hidden in one of the cupboards.
“Spencer what are you doing-” You barely manage to step out of the way before Spencer walked right into you with an armful of books in his hands as he pulled them from the bookshelf in your living room.
He stacks them neatly in the corner of the open case laid on top of his bed as you stand in the doorway of your guest room turned Spencer’s bedroom, clear concern written all over your face.
“I’m going home.” Spencer’s reply is blunt, flat, with the tiniest amount of hurt lacing his tone if you were to listen closely enough.
“Spence-” You block his exit from the room with your body as he attempts to make a second trip to clear your shelves of his books. “Can we just take a second to talk about this?”
“About what? The fact that you lied to me for seven months?” He takes a step back from you as you block the doorway, looking you directly in the eyes to make sure that you could read every semblance of hurt, loathing, and betrayal that swam in his irises.
“The fact that I trusted you to the point where I let you see me at my lowest and you knew everything I was grieving over was a lie?” Spencer had given up trying to leave the room, clearing out anything left in the bedroom instead and zipping the suitcase shut.
��The fact that you let me spiral to the point where I was considering relapsing and couldn’t be trusted to live on my own?”
“Spencer-”
“I confided in you. I told you everything. All those nights I spent sobbing in your arms talking about how I just wanted the pain to stop and you left me in the dark.” He was borderline shouting at you by now, his eyes glassed over with tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks and a lump in his throat that rended his composure shattered.
“I wish I could’ve told you Spencer but I couldn’t-”
“You couldn’t?” Spencer cuts you off before you have the time to try and explain yourself. “Or you wouldn’t?”
“I couldn’t- Spence I wanted to tell you I really did but Emily’s life was in danger-” You try to explain yourself whilst he’s giving you the time to do so, words falling out of your mouth as fast as your brain will let them form. “I couldn’t say anything without risking breaking her cover and sending her right back into Doyle’s grasp..”
“What about my life?” Spencer’s voice cracked slightly as he looked at you, a light flush covering his face from his frustration. “I spent ten weeks under 24/7 supervision because my mental state was so bad-”
“You know me. You know I wouldn’t have said anything. And you let me ruin my own mental state anyway.” The end of his negation of your explanation is marked by the suitcases wheels hitting the wooden flooring.
“Look i’m sorry okay? I didn’t-”
“What? didn’t mean to let it go so far? Didn’t mean to let me consider relapsing and washing any progress i’d made over the last four years down the drain?” He pushes past you with considerable force to make his way towards the front door of your apartment with his suitcase in hand. “Well it’s too late for that isn’t it?”
“Spencer wait-” You grasp at his wrist in a moment of desperation, silently begging for him not to leave. “I’m sorry,”
“I’m so, so sorry and you have every right to be angry at me and I know that keeping it from you was wrong-” Your desperation shows through your voice, through the stray tear that rolls down your left cheek and pools under your chin. “Just- let’s talk about this, please,”
“We just did.” Spencer’s voice is much harsher than you’re used to, although he removes your hand from his wrist with a whisper of his usual gentle nature that you wish would take over the rest of his personality as he pulls your door open to leave.
“I was just trying to protect her-” Your voice hitches at the end of your sentence, stray tears turning into a steady flow that dapples your white shirt in damp circles. “..please forgive me…”
Your voice is hardly a whisper by the time you’re finished, although Spencer’s expression does not match the softness in your tone.
Nor does his response.
“I’ll forgive you when you’re six feet under like she was.”
“Spencer-”
You barely have time to be shocked by his words before the front door of your apartment is closed harshly in your face, Spencer’s presence replaced by the ghost of his cologne and a sharp coldness that runs its way up your spine.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
It’d been three weeks.
And aside from asking Morgan to keep an eye on him you hadn’t so much as mentioned Spencer once.
It was a little difficult considering his desk was directly opposite yours, but a mix of wanting to respect his personal space and still being hurt by his comment allows you to keep to yourself no matter how close he was.
You’re thankful that the team hasn’t said anything, but you’re sure they’ll only respect your privacy until it interferes with the case you’re working on.
Emily had tried to talk Spencer down from his underlying anger to no avail during the plane ride, and despite the countless times that Hotch had taken full responsibility for keeping Emily’s living status a secret, it didn’t stop Spencer from sending you half-glares across the station or refuting any suggestion you gave with an overcomplicated explanation of why you were wrong.
By the fourth day you were on the verge of snapping at him, the Texas heat melding with his snark and making you want to tear all of your skin from your face.
You definitely weren’t in the right mental state to enter an active shooter situation, but as you followed Morgan into the building with your 9mm planted firmly between your hands, all you could think about is the conversation you were going to force Spencer into having with you once all of this was over.
You were so tired of being in this stalemate with him, you just wanted your Spencer back.
The one who would trap you on your couch so he could explain the Doctor Who lore in explicit detail with that bright starry look in his eyes the longer you let him ramble.
It was just radio silence. And you couldn’t bare it anymore.
Your mind was clouded by your own thoughts as you swept the building, and you suppose you only have yourself to blame for not hearing the unfamiliar footsteps behind you until it’s too late.
You turn on your heels towards the noise, expecting it to be Morgan or even Spencer, finished with sweeping the floor and ready to move on.
Instead you’re met by a sharp bang that rings through your ears and a pain in your throat that makes your breath catch and your legs fail underneath you.
Your left hand comes straight to your throat, immediately coated in the dark red liquid escaping from the new hole created in your body, and you manage to fire a shot in the direction of your assailant as he runs, although whether you actually hit him or not you’re not sure.
It takes less than ten seconds for your team members to arrive at your side, and you desperately point in the direction that the UnSub had ran off in as you try and refrain from coughing up blood and in turn flooding your lungs.
Morgan and Emily share a look before running off in your pointed direction. Spencer however, ignores your arm completely and rushes to kneel at your side, dropping his gun on the floor in the process and frantically holding the radio button on his watch to yell out his need for medical services.
“You’re going to be fine- Everything’s going to be fine-” You can practically feel the panic emanating from his body, his hands trembling as he tugged his bullet proof vest from his chest to tear at the hem of his shirt and use it to block the bullet hole in your throat as your hand compression weakened with your blood loss.
You can tell he was trying to reassure you, but it didn’t sound all that convincing, even to himself.
His right hand added a copious amount of pressure to the front of your throat as he aided you into the recovery position, checking the nape of your neck for an exit wound. Nothing.
A soft “two minutes” echoes back through the radio speaker in his watch and though he tries to mutter it under his breath to not freak you out any further, you can hear his uncertain “that’s too long,” even through the tinnitus plaguing your ears.
You cough up the clotted chunks of oxidised blood stuck in your oesophagus onto the floor beneath you, and Spencer makes an effort to protect your head from the floor by elevating it on his thigh.
“You’re going to be fine-” Spencer sounds more panicked than you as his eyes blink with tears, unable to be wiped as they fall down his cheeks from the red staining against his fingers and the ever present pressure he’s adding to your injury.
“Does this mean you’re going to forgive me now?” You choke out the words alongside what could barely be considered a laugh as it leaves you hacking up more blood through your mouth, your attempt at lightening the mood falling on deaf ears as it sends Spencer into a fit of tears.
“I’m so sorry-” Spencer’s tears run hot against his cheeks, pooling at his chin and falling onto the ripped fabric of his shirt he was using to try and stop your throat from bleeding. “I’m so sorry for yelling at you and barging out and just being awful to you I’m sorry-”
The distinct sounds of sirens sound over Spencer’s profuse apology and you can see the relief flood his face as he hears them. “You hear that? You’re gonna be okay, they’re gonna get you to a hospital and you’re gonna be fine,”
He nodded determinedly at you, more like he’s trying to convince himself than convince you.
He neglected to tell you about the fact that gunshot wounds to the neck held a 78% mortality rate, or how when they obstruct major airways that number jumps to 92%.
It was fine. You would be fine.
He can hear the pounding footsteps of the medical team as they breach the building, yelling out in their direction with as much composure as he can muster.
He helped the medical team carefully position you on a stretcher so they could rush you into the ambulance, and he runs alongside you, giving the EMTs as much information as he can.
“They were shot by a 7.5mm two minutes and forty seconds ago, it breached their trachea but there’s no exit wound so it’s likely lodged in the back of their oesophagus-” Spencer speaks through heaved breaths as his body fights to take in oxygen over his will to help the EMTs treat you as quickly as possible, following them into the back of the ambulance.
“They’ve been conscious the whole time this far but I think they’re going through pulmonary edema and-”
“Spence-” Your voice is barely audible through your struggle to breathe, joined by the pressure on your throat as well as under your diaphragm as one of the EMTs checks for signs of your lungs being flooded. “Don’t backseat doctor-”
The fact that you’re still conscious enough to lightly chastise him makes Spencer feel a little less panicked, although removing a pebble from a mountain doesn’t affect its height.
By the time you reach the hospital, you’re unconscious but not yet critical, and he almost follows you right into the OR until he’s blocked from the door by one of the nurses and escorted into the waiting area.
“Well let you know the second anything changes Dr Reid,”
He nods hastily as he sits down, fiddling with his fingers and tapping his feet against the linoleum floors.
You weren’t critical yet, but that didn’t mean that you’d pull through. You had flooded lungs and a bullet lodged somewhere in the back of your throat that they were going to surgically remove.
If something went wrong, that was it.
Spencer spends the first thirty minutes mentally beating himself up.
Why did he lash out at you? You were only doing what you thought was best to protect Emily.
Why did he say he’d only forgive you if you died? You didn’t mean to cause him any harm.
Why was he constantly managing to ruin anything positive that was happening between the two of you?
Maybe he was cursed.
Cursed to live a life of eternal suffering as the perpetual cost for the gift of his intelligence.
He would give up every IQ point he had if it meant that you would recover with no complications.
He would sacrifice his eidetic memory in an instant if it meant he got to make new ones with you.
He’d give up everything that he was prided on as long as you were okay. You needed to be okay.
The next forty-five minutes was spent in an anxious silence. The team had rushed to the hospital as soon as they’d secured the UnSub’s incarceration, only amplifying the tension in the waiting area.
As the nurse calls out your name to the room, the team immediately stands to rush over, everyone silently praying that you’re okay.
“We’re glad to say that the surgery was a success,”
Those words are enough for the anxiety to dwindle in the group, a wave of relief overtaking it.
“They’ve had to have a temporary tracheotomy, and due to the placement of the bullet lodged between their vertebrae, a spinal excision, but both procedures progressed with no issues, meaning they should recover perfectly fine,”
Morgan and Emily share a audible sigh of relief, overshadowed by Spencer’s voice, less anxious but still filled with adrenaline. “Can I see them?”
“They’re currently under supervised care to make sure they don’t destabilise, but if you leave your mobile number we will contact you when they wake,” The nurse passes Spencer a small post it note and a biro pen from her clip board and he doesn’t hesitate to scribble his name and number down before handing them back.
“They’re strong, most patients don’t remain conscious for more than a minute or two after an injury like that,” The nurse takes the pen and post it from Spencer with a small smile. “I have full faith that they’ll recover perfectly fine,”
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Spencer extends his stay in Texas indefinitely.
The rest of the team had left for Quantico two days ago to file out all of the necessary paperwork for the case, with Spencer opting to remain in Texas until you were fit to fly home with him.
Home. He wonders if you’ll let him come home with you. To stay with you in your apartment again and live side by side with him once more.
Maybe he can convince you through your recovery; That patients recovering with spinal injuries need 24/7 attention just in case something happens.
Yeah. That sounded like a good idea.
Spencer’s plans for taking you home were interrupted by the shrill ring of his cellphone, the screen lighting up with an unknown number.
His heart rate increases as he picks the phone up from his hotel room’s coffee table, his hands trembling by the time he holds it up to his ear. “Hello?”
“McAllen County Hospital, am I speaking to Doctor Spencer Reid?”
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Spencer is in his rental car almost before he hangs up the phone, driving the speed limit as he tries to get to the hospital as soon as possible.
He runs what he’s going to say when he sees you over and over again in his head on the way there, but by the time he reaches your hospital room his mind goes completely blank, and he just stands in the door staring at you.
“Hello to you too,” Your voice is very clearly strained and raspy, still recovering from the emergency tracheotomy you’d been given during surgery.
The sound of your voice, as dry and strained as it is, immediately sends Spencer into a fit of tears, and he rushes to take a seat on the plastic chair beside your bed with the most upset, regretful expression you think you’ve ever seen. “I’m so sorry,”
“Spence…” You reach out your hand out from the hospital bed, laying it against his lower thigh and squeezing it lightly.
“I shouldn’t have lashed out at you I know you were doing what’s right and I didn’t mean what I said I don’t want you to die I promise-” He takes in a sharp breath through his nose once he’s finished his ramble, and you wait a few seconds to make sure he’s actually finished before speaking yourself.
“You’re fine Spence…” Your hand trails up to grasp at his own, intertwining your fingers with his and giving them a small squeeze. “You had every right to be angry,”
Spencer shakes his head adamantly at you. “No, i’m sorry. What I said was wrong and you didn’t deserve that,”
Spencer exhales softly through his nose, his voice wavering and his hands trembling against your own. “Can you forgive me..?”
You question whether to make a joke about whether he’s close to dying or not, but opt out of it considering his fragile emotional state.
“How about we both forgive each other and call it even?” You let out a small chuckle at the end of your question, turning into more of a cough as it dries out your throat, and Spencer grabs the glass of water left on your bedside table with his free hand.
He holds it up to let you drink from it rather than unlinking your hands to let you hold the cup yourself, placing the styrofoam back down once you’re finished.
You give him a mildly embarrassed smile that he returns with one of his own, leaning forward to gently rest his forehead against yours.
If you weren’t recovering from a spinal surgery he would’ve had you in a bone crushing hug by now, but holding your hand and leaning his forehead to yours would suffice for now.
“Forgiven?” You allow your eyes to flutter closed at the soft contact, exhaling slowly through your nose.
“Forgiven…”
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spanktony · 7 months
Text
MISSED OPPORTUNITIES - maddy perez
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summary: you can paired up with maddy for a project, little do you know there’s some lingering feelings in the air.
words: 3.8k
warnings: 18+, riding, g!p reader, reader being oblivious, rue, elliot & reader talk abt pegging and b*ssy 😭
notes: might be ooc maddy or bad dialogue, haven’t wrote for my baby in a while! sorry!
navigation. request.
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"Maddy and Y/N."
Maddy didn't exactly know you, but yes, she's seen you. She had noticed you from a distance, watching as you'd come to school on your skateboard nearly every day, and on the days you didn't, you'd gotten a ride from Elliot.
Then you'd proceed to come into fifth period with baggy pants, a beanie on your head, and a nonchalant attitude.
Maddy wondered what it would be like to strike up a conversation with you. But, Maddy couldn't gather the courage to approach you, fearing rejection or awkwardness.
Maddy often found herself stealing glances at you during class, watching you bop your head to the music playing through your earphones.
Maddy couldn't help but wonder what kind of music you were listening to and if you'd ever consider sharing your playlist with her.
You take your wired airpod out of your ear, making sure you heard your teacher correctly. You glance around the classroom, catching Maddy's eye. She quickly looks away, blushing slightly.
"So! Now to go over your assignment." You lean back in your chair, listening to the instructions your teacher is giving. "As we all know, spring break is coming up, and I'm sure many of you have exciting plans. Although, the school wants to do something fun to celebrate the break. We thought it would be a great idea for you guys to come up with an event-type fundraiser for the school. It could be anything from a bake sale to a talent show, as long as it's creative and engaging."
Your teacher pauses, scanning the room for reactions. "Then, once you finish your assignment, the school will vote for the best event idea, and we will make it happen during spring break. This way, you will not only have a chance to showcase your creativity but also contribute to the school community in a meaningful way. So, let's brainstorm and come up with some amazing event ideas that will make this spring break even more memorable!"
Your teacher claps, encouraging the class to get up and start sharing their event ideas with their partner. The class gets up, except for you. You hesitate for a moment, feeling a bit unsure about Maddy being your partner.
Now, you didn't know Maddy personally, but you had heard some rumors about her, and you knew her boyfriend, Nate, a dickhead who'd often cause trouble. One time, Nate chased you with her truck, nearly running you over as you frantically tried to escape on your skateboard.
You never talked to Nate nor even looked his way, but he had always given you menacing looks whenever you crossed paths, along with the rest of the football team. It was tiring, annoying, and made you feel constantly on edge whenever you were near them.
You're knocked out of your thoughts when Maddy appears in front of your sight, a slight smile on her lips. "Y/N, right?" You nod, sitting up in your seat. "Yeah..." Maddy chuckles and nods, her smile widening.
"Were you gonna keep thinking about the great depression or come over to my desk so we can discuss this project?" You crack a smile at Maddy's playful comment and quickly gather your belongings, making your way over to her desk.
-
You're at Maddy's house. It's been a week since you've been working on the project together. Maddy had a completely different personality from her boyfriend. She was inviting but at the same time closed off, she'd open up about her interests and passions but rarely talked about her personal life or emotions.
You move to the edge of the bed, taking your notebook with you. "So...uh, so far we have a spring dance, a photography exhibit, and a...twerk party? Did you add that one?"
Maddy giggles, hiding her face behind her hands. "No, that one was all you," she says, her laughter contagious. "I swear I didn't write that." You can't help but smile at Maddy's infectious laughter. It's refreshing to see her so carefree and playful, even if she still keeps certain aspects of herself guarded.
Maddy crawls to the edge of the bed, leaning in to read the notebook. You hold in your breath, her being so close to you, sending a rush of warmth through your body. "You can add karaoke, that sounds fun," Maddy suggests, you nod, taking the pencil from behind your ear and jotting down her suggestion in the notebook.
Maddy bites down on her lip, watching you with a smile. "What...?" You whisper, confused and intrigued by her sudden change in demeanor. She leans in closer, her eyes dancing across your face.
"Do you always ride your skateboard to school? I've been meaning to ask." You feel a flutter of excitement at Maddy's interest in your daily routine. "Yeah, I've been skateboarding to school for a while now. I have a car, but it's more fun, to be honest," you reply, fiddling with the pencil in your hands.
Maddy's eyes fall to your skateboard propped on her wall before falling back on you. "You look hot when you ride it too." Her compliment catches you off guard, and a blush creeps up on your cheeks. "Thanks, Maddy," you say with a shy smile.
"We can take a break," Maddy suggests, taking the notebook out of your lap and setting it aside. You lay back against Maddy's bed, and she does the same, turning her head towards you.
"Any more ideas?" You ask, turning your head towards her. Maddy smiles, "Girl, what part of a break don't you understand?" You chuckle at Maddy's response, your face heating up. "Sorry."
"It's okay," Maddy reassures you, her eyes twinkling with amusement. You turn on your side, propping your head up with your hand. Maddy does the same, jokingly mocking you. "You know, I was thinking we should totally have a secret handshake. Something so ridiculous, only we'd get it."
You laugh at Maddy's suggestion, imagining the two of you coming up with a silly secret handshake. "Like what?"
Maddy sits up, sitting on her feet. You sit up as well, sitting criss-cross apple sauce. Maddy softly takes your hand, "We could dap up..." She moves your hand to the side and starts doing a series of intricate hand movements, "then do a link our pinkies...and seal it with a kiss."
You watch in awe as Maddy effortlessly demonstrates the complex sequence of hand movements. The idea of sealing the secret handshake with a kiss makes you blush, feeling as if you were floating on cloud nine.
"Ready?" Maddy asks, her eyes filled with excitement. You nod eagerly, beginning the intricate hand movements. As you mirror Maddy's movements, your fingers fumble at first, but with each repetition, you start to gain confidence and precision, sealing it with a kiss every time.
"Maddy!" Someone shouts from behind, interrupting your secret handshake. Startled, you quickly break away, turning around to see Maddy's mom at the door. "Dinners ready."
You exchange a sheepish glance with Maddy. "I should probably get going." You say to Maddy, glancing at her door, her mom now gone. Maddy nods understandingly, a hint of disappointment in her eyes. "Yeah, I guess we can finish practicing our handshake later," she says with a small smile.
You reluctantly leave, and you can't help but feel a sense of anticipation for the next time you see Maddy.
-
You lean against Rue's locker, watching the students pass by in the bustling hallway. Thoughts of Maddy replay in your mind making you smile to yourself. Maybe there's something more between you two than just friendship.
But your smile fades, remembering Nate Jacobs. We're they still together? How bad would it be if you did try to pursue Maddy?
Regardless of the bad thoughts running through your head, you can't deny the growing connection you feel towards her, leaving you torn between taking a chance or playing it safe.
You take out your airpod, glancing between Elliot and Rue. "Guys...am I attractive?" Elliot and Rue stop their conversation, exchanging puzzled looks. "Yes," Elliot simply says.
"I'd say so, yes," Rue adds, nodding her head.
Their affirmations boost your confidence, but a part of you still questions if their opinions are biased. Nevertheless, their words provide a small glimmer of hope that pursuing something with Maddy might not be as complicated as you initially thought.
"Let's say...there's this girl, right?" They both nod, and you continue. "And...she's like...giving... I want you, but I don't know if you want me vibes, you know?" Elliot raises an eyebrow while Rue stares at you, waiting for you to elaborate.
"Like! I know she likes likes me, but I don't know how to let her know I like like her." You pause for a moment, trying to find the right words to convey your dilemma. "It's like we're both playing this game and we're afraid to make the first move because we don't want to get rejected or ruin our friendship."
Rue shrugs. "Sounds like you both need a little push," she suggests. "Maybe stop being a little bitch and make a move?" You chuckle nervously at Rue's straightforward advice, appreciating her bluntness. "I guess you're right," you reply.
Elliot puts his hands on his hips. "But are you not curious as to who she's talking about?" Elliot asks Rue, raising an eyebrow.
"It's probably BB." You grimace, "That's not funny, Rue." Elliot tilts his head, confused. "BB? Like, the vape addict, BB?" Rue nods at Elliot, confirming his suspicions.
"You're gross..." He mutters, frowning at you. You make a blank face, "It's not BB, bro."
Elliot puts a hand over his heart. "Oh, thank god." "Who is it then?" Elliot asks, his curiosity piqued. You pause for a moment, debating whether or not to reveal the truth. "Uh..."
Just then, Maddy walks up to you, smiling slightly. "Hey, Y/N." You smile, giving the girl a small wave. "Hey, Rue and Elliot," Maddy adds, earning tight-lipped smiles and nods from the two.
Maddy then holds out her hand, and you're surprised she'd wanna do the handshake in front of Elliot and Rue. You quickly glance at them before reluctantly taking Maddy's hand and reciprocating the handshake, indeed ending it with a kiss.
While you release your grip, you notice a flicker of confusion in Elliot's eyes, but he remains silent. Rue, on the other hand, seems unfazed and continues to observe the interaction with a calm expression.
"Walk me to class?" Maddy asks. You hesitate for a moment, aware of the potential consequences of being seen together, but ultimately decide to go along with it. "Sure," you respond, offering her a small smile as the two of you start walking towards her class.
As expected, Nate Jacobs passed the two of you without acknowledging your presence. He keeps his gaze straight ahead, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. You turn around to see if he's still watching, but he's already disappeared into the crowd of students. You feel a sense of relief, grateful that he didn't make a scene or confront you about being with Maddy.
-
Elliot takes a hit of his cigarette, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the air. Rue lets out a sigh. "I can't believe a community service event won against your and Maddy's spring dance."
You shrug. "I don't really care. I still got the A." Elliot nods. "So, do you and Maddy still talk? Or have you been talking during the break?"
You hum, "Yeah, we'll Facetime a bit and hang out every now and then." Elliot raises an eyebrow. "Interesting. Are you two just friends, or is there something more going on?"
"Just friends." You confirm. Rue cuts in, "Because you're a little bitchhhh..." You roll your eyes at Rue's comment. "Aren't you the one who nearly skipped town with Jules?"
"Yeah, well, that's different. Jules and I have a deeper connection," Rue retorts defensively. You shake your head, not wanting to get into an argument with Rue. "Whatever."
You glance at Elliot, hoping to change the subject. "So, Elliot, what about you? Are you seeing anyone special?" Elliot chuckles and shakes his head. "Nope, just enjoying the single life for now."
"I think he secretly wants to have a threesome with Jules and me." You and Elliot burst into laughter at Rue's comment, finding it amusing but also slightly uncomfortable. "I think you and Jules want me to want to have a threesome with you guys so you can feel good about yourselves."
Rue raises an eyebrow playfully. "Oh, is that what you think? You're totally wrong."
"What if we had a threesome?" Elliot suggests, jokingly. Rue laughs. "Yeah, and we just pegged Elliot the entire time." Elliot joins in on the laughter but quickly interjects, "Woah, woah! Why me?"
Rue smirks mischievously. "Well, you did bring up the idea, didn't you? It's only fair that you take the spotlight." Elliot's face turns slightly red as he stammers, "I-I was just kidding! I didn't actually mean it!"
You grimace, "Enough about pegging! I just got reminded of Silento."
"Silento? What does he have to do with this conversation?" Rue asks, raising an eyebrow.
Elliot mouths, "Bussy," and Rue frowns, fake gagging.
Your phone vibrates in your pocket, distracting you from the strange conversation. You quickly pull it out to see a message from Maddy, smiling at the message.
maddy - wyd
"Maddy just texted me, what am I doing?" Rue lets out a dramatic gasp. "She's a wyd warrior? Brace yourself, Y/N." You chuckle at Rue's dramatic reaction.
you - nm, u?
maddy - home alone and extremely bored
maddy - you wanna come over?
"Holy shit." Elliot is nearly breaking his neck to look at your phone screen. "Maddy wants you to come over? She def wants to fuck." You raise an eyebrow at Elliot's assumption and shake your head.
"No she doesn't." You look at Elliot who stares at you with a raised eyebrow. "She doesn't!"
Rue joins in, "Then she would've asked for Cassie. Not you." Elliot nods in agreement. "And she's home alone."
You consider their points for a moment, realizing that they may have a valid argument. Anyway, you still believe that Maddy's intention is simply to alleviate her boredom. "Well, maybe she just feels more comfortable hanging out with me," you suggest.
"Why are you plotting your own downfall?" Rue raises an eyebrow, questioning your reasoning. Elliot chimes in, "If Maddy wanted company, she could have invited anyone else. It seems weird that she specifically asked for you."
you - omw
You get up from the bed and say, "See you guys later."
Rue yells after you, "Don't be a little bitch!"
-
"Why are your parents out?" You ask Maddy, plopping down on her bed. Maddy shrugs and replies, "They went out for dinner. My dad finally found a job."
You raise an eyebrow at Maddy's response and ask, "So why did you specifically want me to come over tonight?" Maddy hesitates for a moment before saying, "I just thought it would be nice to have some company."
You sense there's something more to Maddy's invitation, but you decide not to push further. Instead, you lean back on her bed and let out a contented sigh. Maddy sits on her feet before lying down beside you.
"You smell like cigarettes." You glance at Maddy, slightly surprised by her comment. "Oh, sorry about that," you say, realizing that the faint smell of cigarettes must have clung to your clothes from earlier. "I was hanging out with some friends earlier, and they were smoking."
Maddy stares at your face, and you feel yourself becoming self-conscious under her gaze. "I am so jealous of your eyebrows," her thumb begins, tracing the shape of your brow.
"They're so perfectly arched," she continues, a small smile playing on her lips. You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks as you thank her for the compliment, appreciating her attention to detail.
Maddy's eyes leave your eyebrows and fall to your lips. You notice a flicker of curiosity in her gaze as she leans in slightly. You clench your jaw, frozen in place, you were nervous as fuck. Your heart pounds in your chest, unsure of what might happen next.
Maddy pauses for a moment, her eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. Sensing your unease, she leans back slightly, giving you space.
Shit...did you just blow it? You watch Maddy's reaction, you try to gather your thoughts and find the right words to salvage the moment. The silence hangs heavy in the air, and you swallow hard, feeling the weight of the missed opportunity.
-
"No fucking way," Elliot mumbles as you finish your sentence. He shakes his head in disbelief. "You fumbled badly."
You run a hand down your face, "I know." Elliot pats you on the back, "Have fun dealing with that one. I gotta get to class."
You narrow your eyes, "Since when did you start going to class?"
Elliot chuckles, "Since I realized that I might not be getting my diploma." You give him a playful shove, "Well, good luck with that. Maybe I'll see you at graduation."
Elliot raises an eyebrow, "Don't hold your breath." He turns and walks away, leaving you alone to ponder the consequences of your missed kiss with Maddy.
You lean against your locker, scrolling through your playlists before landing on the one you made for Maddy. Well, she didn't know you did because you hadn't shown her yet.
You press play, and the familiar melodies fill your ears, but suddenly your headphones get snatched from your ear. You lift your head to see one of the footballers, Tyler, smirking down at you. "Who the hell still wears wires?"
You roll your eyes, annoyed by Tyler's interruption, reaching out to grab them back. Tyler chuckles and shrugs, moving them before you can reach them. "You should upgrade to wireless, man. It's the future," he says with a teasing tone.
"You're so fucking annoying." You mumble, exasperated by Tyler's teasing. "What the fuck did you just say to me?" Tyler's smirk fades as he hears your response, his playful demeanor turning more serious.
He leans in closer, his voice lowering as he confronts you. "You better watch your mouth, or you'll regret it."
"This isn't some Disney show, dude. Can I just have my headphones back?" You ask, trying to diffuse the tension. Tyler's eyes narrow as he considers your request, his grip on your headphones tightening. "Maybe I'll give them back if you apologize," he proposes, a hint of superiority in his voice.
"Nah, man. I can always buy another pair." You say, attempting to walk away from the escalating situation. But before you can take a step, Tyler slams you back against the locker, throwing your headphones on the ground before stomping on them.
"Why? They're right there." He smirks, pointing at the broken headphones. He pats your shoulder before walking away, leaving you stunned and seething with anger. You stand there, anger boiling inside you.
He was a dickhead who obviously craved attention because he lacks it at home.
"What the hell happened to you?" You turn around to see Maddy approaching with a concerned look on her face. You take a deep breath, "Nothing, but I'm about to leave school."
Maddy's concern deepens as she notices the anger in your voice. "Are you sure you're okay? You hesitate for a moment, contemplating whether or not to confide in her about Tyler's actions. You nod, picking up your broken headphones.
"You wanna come with?" Maddy hesitates for a moment, unsure of how to respond. She finally nods and says, "Yeah, I'll come with you." You smile gratefully at her.
-
The sun has now set, and you're in your car in a secluded area. Maddy smiles, the last song on the playlist you made from her finishing. "Send me that now!"
You laugh, "I will, swear."
You feel a sense of relief knowing that Maddy enjoyed the playlist you made for her. You meet Maddy's gaze, and your heart swells with gratitude for her presence and the connection you share.
Rue's words echo in your mind, "Don't be a little bitch."
You take a deep breath, letting Rue's words motivate you to push through any fear or hesitation. You softly place a hand on Maddy's cheek, pulling her into a gentle kiss. Maddy sinks in the kiss, leaning forward to deepen the kiss.
The kiss deepens, and you can feel Maddy's nails lightly graze the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. Without hesitating, you pull the Latina into your lap with slightly shaking hands.
You pull away in a desperate need for air, but Maddy takes this as a chance to attack your neck, nipping and sucking on your sensitive skin, while grinding in your lap.
You let out a low groan, grasping her hips tightly as you surrender to the energy between you. Maddy's lips trail to your neck, to your jaw, and then back in an intense kiss, her hands roaming over your body.
The kiss becomes messy, her tongue sliding against yours, making your head swim with lust.  Your hands lift her skirt up, feeling the heat and smoothness of her thighs beneath your fingertips.
Maddy's breath hitches, pulling away from the kiss. You think you've done something wrong, but then you see the hunger in her eyes and the way her chest rises and falls rapidly. She leans in close, whispering in your ear, "I wanna ride you so bad."
Heat pools in your lower abdomen as you imagine Maddy straddling you, her body pressed against yours, moving in sync with your every touch. You bring Maddy into another kiss, she begins to grind on your hard-on, her movements becoming more urgent and desperate.
You lift Maddy up slightly, pulling down your pants with one hand while supporting her with the other. You reach back into her skirt, moving her underwear aside, before sliding into her wetness. 
Maddy moans softly, her nails digging into your shoulder as she begins to move her hips in rhythm with your thrusts.
The eye contact is strong, fueling the intensity between you both. Maddy's gasps become louder, her body arching against yours in, "Mm..fuck! You feel so good, baby."
You let out a small groan, throwing your head back against your seat as the pleasure builds. Maddy's moans fill the confined space of the car, encouraging you to increase the pace, lost in the passionate moment.
Your hands grip her waist tighter, guiding her movements as the desire between you escalates.  The car rocks with each thrust, the sound of skin against skin echoing in the enclosed space. The intensity reaches its peak, and with one final gasp, Maddy explodes into a state of euphoria, holding onto you tightly.
"Y/N!!" You hold onto her, her body trembling in your arms as she catches her breath. You gently stroke her hair, whispering words of comfort and affection as you both bask in the afterglow.
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radiance1 · 4 months
Text
Witch au but Sam looks far too much like Martha Wayne than a lot of people are comfortable with.
I hear you ask, "but Sam is younger than her in this au" and I tell you that Martha Wayne had the genetic trait of looking younger than she actually was, a trait that was in her family for generations.
Thus, we have Sam who resembles Martha Wayne far too much, the philosopher's stone that makes her immortal, and a genetic trait that has Martha looking younger than she actually is and you get misunderstandings.
So, Sam was just minding her business trying to figure out what exactly for her castle to be anywhere that wasn't Amity Park when someone stepped onto her property and, getting a feel for them she realized that they don't seem to be magical in nature.
Also, scratch that, it was more than one person.
So, she decided to give them a... 'warm' welcome.
A group of people who believed in the supernatural decided to get together one day to explore the castle that spawned randomly one day in Gotham for shits and giggles. So there they were, stepping through the fog, barely able to see the ground let alone each other.
They had to solve a puzzle for the door to the castle to open in those conditions, which was weird but it was also the fun kind of weird so they weren't complaining about it. When they opened the door it was very dark, which made them second guess themselves for a second and then they decided to step in anyway.
They live in Gotham what's the chances of this castle being worse than what they go through weekly?
The door slammed shut behind them as soon as the last person stepped inside, leaving them in total darkness for a moment before candles lit themselves up and they saw the inside of the castle in its full glory.
It looked, very, very beautiful.
So beautiful in fact, that they almost missed the woman stood at the top of the stairs. She looked very, very beautiful and was wearing a dress that looked very expensive (think Blue Diamond from Steven Universe but black) with a red gem right in the middle of her chest.
The lady welcomed them into her castle, and suddenly they found their vision going back as the woman's sinister chuckle echoed all around them and they found themselves in separate rooms of the house.
Fun fact, this group of people were also streamers and streaming everything up to the point of Sam's entrance and then her magicking them all in different rooms. They also had a pretty good following, so safe to say the chats were going crazy over what just happened.
So, the various live streamers investigate the castle to find a way to escape before their assumed death, they solve various puzzles both with their own wit and the help of their chat that were magical in nature. The various puzzles and traps were, genuinely, very fun to solve, both for the chat and the streamers doing them.
All the streamers manage to meet up again, and boy are they genuinely thankful for the fact that-so far at least, this doesn't seem to actually be anything life threatening and just seemed to be a grand time all around.
Then they all headed down a hall together, and the chat just went absolutely ballistic when they saw a large portrait of the witch and another man standing together and smiling.
The chat never got a good look at her before the streamers got teleported to different rooms, but that painting?
It changed everything.
Because the woman standing in that picture-as pointed out by a chat member, looked an awful lot like Martha Wayne, and the man standing next to her? Thoms Wayne.
The streamers, obviously, think they've hit the jack pot because their viewer count is just going up and up because of this new information and also think they've hit some sort of scandal because, wasn't Martha Wayne dead?
Eventually, the find themselves sitting at the dining table with said woman who was silently drinking tea with a bunch of food sitting on the table in front of them. The woman smirked as she placed down her cup, asking if they enjoyed the various puzzles she laid out for them.
Everyone agrees, and the chat is exploding for them to ask if she's actually Martha Wayne.
She doesn't answer save for a cheeky smile and then suddenly they were standing outside of her castle and couldn't get back in.
Safe to say, reporters were flocking to ask various questions.
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