#then you need to take a long fucking look at the communities youre in and the ppl youre around
Text
A Touch in the Dark. (J.O)
One-Shot
Jenna x GN!reader
Summary: Coming from a rough patch in your life, Joy; your close friend finds you an escape and takes you with her to Romania and introduces you to Jenna who is now your girlfriend of four years. Everything was perfect. You had the girl. You finally got to be seen in the music industry but what happens when the love of your life slips through your fingertips and you are stuck trying to move on?
'She was the touch that brought me out the dark."
Warnings: Im from the ghetto so- Violence, Guns, Cursing, Blood, Slight smut, heart break, fluff, gang violence, death, hella angst- all that juice lol.
Word Count: 7k<
Enjoy as i come out of my depressive episode lol.
I did include a song i've made/wrote. So i hope you enjoy that as well. (if you don't like it just keep on reading...)
-----------------------------------------
Rainy days were your favorite but today?
“No, you don’t have the damn right to ‘baby’ me after what I just witnessed with my own eyes.” You spat walking into your small shared house with the small girl hot on your heels behind you.
“Please, it wasn’t what it looked like.” She whispered, grabbing your wrist which you shoved away again.
“Then tell me what it looked like- what i saw was you and Percy fucking kissing.” You hissed, grabbing the suitcase that sat in the corner of the coat rack.
“I’m going through a-lot right now.” She cried out which caused you to stop shoving your clothing from your shared bedroom. You waited for her to make her way into the room but she stopped at the door with her eyes focused on her shoes.
“I told you that you could come to me if there was something on your chest. We communicate, but you go to someone who is obvious on what the hell he wants with you.” mumbling the last few words you continued to shove a few shirts from the closet into the suitcase now.
“What was so upsetting to you that made you let four years of our relationship go down the drain??” raising your voice now that the truth dawned on you. “Was it when I broke your favorite vase?” you pushed, grabbing a handful of your shirts that hung in the closet tossing them onto the bedroom floor. “Or the time I was home drunk when you missed our anniversary?” You grabbed a pair of shoes and threw them against the suitcase. From the corner of your eye, the small girl fumbled with her fingers now shaking in tears.
“OR MAYBE that time I didn't take Zero out to use the restroom and he pissed on your Prada shoes that you were going to wear for the sudden meeting with Percy?” You grabbed your laptop bag tossing it onto the bed,
“Or when-
“I DON”T KNOW IF I LOVE YOU ANYMORE”
You froze. The drumming of your heart could be heart miles away. The rain droplets hit the window as if they were mocking the way your eyes swelled with tears. You inhaled sharply trying your best to keep this mask on for as long as you can. Nodding, you grabbed your phone sending a quick message to the first person that popped in your mind and started packing everything into your suitcase.
“Could you please just say something?” She pleaded through her cries. Ignoring her, you finished and made your way to the living room grabbing your guitar from your stand taking one last look at the small girl in front of you.
“All I needed was communication and I would have understood, but here we are.” You laughed out the last few words as the tears started to mimic the rainfall that smacked harder against the roof. The smaller girl crashed into your arms, wrapping tight, afraid you'd disappear in a matter of seconds. Tilting your head up to the ceiling you swore you could see the memories of you two playing over and over. Gently grabbing her arms, you untangled yourself, keeping your eyes on the door. Should you leave? Should you stay and talk? Unfortunately, the little you on your left shoulder won. Grabbing the door handle, you swung the door open taking one last look at the girl that is now on her knees sobbing.
“I wish this could be different, but I know deep down this would all be the same outcome…I’m sorry Jenna.” and with that you walked away. Closing a door you thought you’d never open again.
Six Months Later
“Can you just shut the fuck up for one second?” You growled out slapping a hand over your eyes shielding the light coming from the window that your roommate opened.
“Sorry dear, I cannot. Now get your ass in the studio and start on that song you gotta finish.” Joy spoke, pulling the blankets off your body then proceeding to clean up the liquor bottles from the floor.
“I heard Wednesday is getting a Season 2.” You started, Joy turned to face you which you quickly waved your hand sending her a small smile. “It’s okay, luckily we stayed in Romania huh?” you added which a sigh of relief slipped her lips. A box was placed in front of you where you glanced at her expression. You quickly waved your finger at her shaking your head.
“No. Take it back.” You mumbled, hopping off the bed walking to your closet grabbing clothes then making your way to the bathroom pointing your finger at Joy once more.
“Oh come on, it’s been six months. Not only is my team tired of talking to you through me…your fans miss you. Everyone still thinks you died even though I literally post with you everyday.” Joy pleaded, placing the box on your bed pointing back at you. You let out a loud dramatic groan closing the door, placing your hands against the edge of the sink. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, locking with the small scar that slightly hid behind the fresh ink along your chest. Running your left hand over the new tattoos you got a few weeks back that covered most of your neck, back, chest and arms. You were art. You are a masterpiece. Shaking out the memories that flooded your mind, you hopped into the shower starting your day.
- - - - - - - - - - -
“The lyrics are amazing, just start from the top and for the love of god! Let me start the damn live!” Joy yelled from the other side of the studio. You sent her the finger then a thumbs up. The instrumental started to play in your headphones while you sent a glance at the screen that sat next to you showing the live stream of your fans going crazy.
I gave what you wanted,
Love and all my attention,
But you broke me and strayed away..
“Babe! You won't believe what Percy pulled on Emma, funniest prank ever!” Jennas small voice was heard from the front door. You kept your eyes on the guitar strings that you quietly played letting her words echo to the back of your mind.
“Why are you dressed?” She asked, stopping midway from the kitchen and living room. Your fingers stopped finally looking up at the small woman, you stood placing the instrument on its stand undoing your tie. You shook your head taking the small box from the table, shoving inside your pocket and placing the bouquet of roses on the coffee table. “I am glad you had a good time with the crew. I am going to wash up and call it a night. Goodnight and Happy Anniversary.”
I heard from an acquaintance,
That you lose all your patience,
And decided with him you’ll stay.
“Y/n? Please tell me you’re here…” Joy yelled from the front door hearing her light footsteps running to your room. You laid your head against the wall as you hugged your knees. Joy bursted through the door finally catching your fatigue figure in the corner of your dimmed room. Arms were wrapped around you and you lost it. You let go.
“It’s okay, let it out. You’re okay.” She whispered into your ear, your hands gripped her shirt tighter as your sobs grew louder. Your smashed phone flickered with the instagram post of Jenna in Percy's arms with the smile you knew too well.
It was too late. You knew it was him all along.
But your love,
Hits me like a ray of pain.
And your love,
Drowns me in vain like the waves..
No lifeboat, No vest.
I have to love whatever of you I have left…
And your love,
Drowns me in vain like the waves…
Finishing the song, you open your eyes to see Joy dancing around behind the glass which brought a smile to your face. You noticed a few unknown faces in the engineering room that you never saw before. You tapped the screen ending the live then making your way out the booth to Joy.
“I didn’t know I would be performing for a crowd,” you joked, extending your hand out to one of the men that quickly copied your actions. You greeted each man then stood next to Joy.
“The main guy you need to meet should be up here any second.” the man that wore a suit that screamed money spoke, sending you a warm smile. The door opened and when you turned your head to the new face you swore you saw a ghost.
“You’re Y/n right? I heard so much about you from my girl Joy!” He smiled, you stood frozen processing the man standing in front of you. It was Brent fucking Faiyaz. You extended your hand which he laughed pulling you into a dap/hug. Pulling away, you glanced at joy toying with the engineering computer pointing at the booth which you smiled at.
“So, let's make some music shall we?”
After a few hours of making a few beats, you gently spun on your chair humming melodies while Brent sat next to you nodding along to the beat that was playing.
“Can you spit?” Brent spoke out cutting you from your thoughts, you laughed softly, “not really, i never-” Joy entered the studio with snacks sending you a look- “They can.” Brent laughed, pulling out his phone, sending a few more beats to the studio computer.
“If you want me to be honest,-” you broke the silence standing up from your seat, Brent leaned back in his chair waiting as Joy sent you a small nod. “I don’t want to write my pain in one whole song, I want to throw a little in each one that I write. I want to express not only my side of what I went through but what I feel I was seen on the other…if that makes sense.” Brent's eyes widened and you swore you saw a light bulb go off on top of his head. He pressed his index finger on the space bar, dragging you along with him to the booth while the song started to play.
It ain't the time, for you to walk
If i won't let go
I can tell, that aint what you want
But it's like you can't let it show.
Brent began to sing his lyrics while you closed your eyes, soaking in the lyrics, generating your own. After his lyrics came to an end, you started-
Girl, i’ve tried again and again,
To give you all of me, but you deny
“Girl that aint right” Brent harmonized with your voice which you rushed to the booth restarting your verse and starting where you left off. Brent took a seat next to you on the second mic nodding his way to joy which with no hesitation she pressed play.
And i chose you, cause you’re all i need,
And you chose that man, but that man aint me.
So don’t call my phone, acting like you care
I done made my move, I know life aint fair.
Brent started the chorus and you decided to harmonize and add your own ad-libs. Brent looked your way sending a thumbs up, you sent him a nod then turned your gaze to Joy which she again, was jumping around in the engineering room. You glanced at the Ipad on the stand to see the live stream going and one comment stood out-
“Whoever they’re singing about should be ready to see their face everywhere.”
It was like that comment was true. Here you are two weeks later on a flight with Joy and with a last minute invitation; Letitia. Yes. Shuri- THE black panther. And yes, you did break your neck to look around to see if Michael was with her but to your luck he was not. You did get a DM from him a day later when you landed in LA. A small “My bad on not being able to join you guys on the LA vacay, I’ll try my best to see if i can make it. Best of luck bro!”
Honesty? A DM? When you started he did reach out and you both talked for a bit before he was pulled for another movie. That was all you needed to realize that you are getting buzz. You are no longer a shadow. Hiding behind someone who welcomed all the shine, but the way you held onto Jenna made you feel like you were touching the sun. She was your star, but sometimes the sun can be harmful. You were burning but the warmth and abliss you felt from the pain had you blinded.
“Okay you two, let's get the work out the way and we can make our way to the splurging.” You joked, making your way down the stairs of the jet Letitia happens to own. You opened the door for the women then followed behind them into the car.
“So how does it feel to be in LA?” Joy asked, rolling her window down letting the dusk air run along her arm. Letitia nodded along with Joy, mindlessly scrolling through her TikTok.
You hummed softly playing with your highschool ring then looking around at the scenery in awe.
“This is actually my first time in LA.” Both pairs of eyes widen at your answer.
“You never been to LA? What about New York?” You shook your head,
“Just to Romania. Born and raised in Texas.” Letitia rolled her eyes leaning over to the driver showing him the new address which caused you to furrow your eyebrows. What are they up to?
“So, your first collaboration is actually here in LA and she just sent me the address.” You nodded, awaiting who it would be, “How do you feel about SZA?” Your eyes almost popped out of your head. Breathlessly laughing, you nodded again but with A LOT more energy.
“For the love of god! Please don’t turn into a tomato!”
Damn Joy.
But a tomato you were.
“Can you stop looking like you’re constipated?” Joy whispered to you. Looking up from your phone you sent her the bird but quickly shoving your hand into your jacket pocket when SZA walked into the studio.
“I love your lyrics Y/N,”
You only nodded, glancing at the two knuckleheads going back and forth while you sat against the high chair playing with the Audio chord.
“Let's start then.” Whispering, SZA sent you a smile sending a nod to Joy as she pressed play. You shuffled to the side grabbing the other mic stand starting your verse,
I'll touch that fire for you
I do that three four times again, I testify for you
I told that lie, I'd kill that- mmmh..
You softly scoffed in the mic sending a shy smile to SZA continuing your verse. Joy eyed your body language as a small laugh made its way out her mouth. “They’re slowly coming back, it makes my heart happy that they finally get to express how they feel.” Letitia chuckled leaning against the desk glancing every now and then at the live stream that saw you and SZA nodding and swaying to the music.
“So when are you going to tell them?” Letitia asked. Joy hummed, shaking her head,
“Percy knows what he is doing and I am scared that he will try to get under their skin to get them to break.” Joy answered as she edited the EQ on your voice then glanced at Letitia. “They know. They just do not want to say anything. Y/n is still trying to open up about everything, so let's give them time.” Letitia nodded at her response, going back to listening to you and SZA.
I do what all of them around you scared to do, I'm not
Long as you juggin' out here for me, I got it
Mobbin', schemin', lootin', hide your bodies
Long as you dreamin' 'bout me, ain't no problem
I don't got nobody, just with you right now
Tell the truth, I look better under you
Sza started her hook which caught you by surprise, a huge smile plastered on your face when she placed her hand on your arm. She closed her eyes, finishing the hook which did leave you blown away. She went and dived right into her verse and the hook again.
In the droptop ride with you, I feel like Scarface (Scarface)
Like that white bitch with the bob, I'll be your main one (main one)
Let's take this argument back up to place
Sex remind you, I'm nonviolent, I'm your day one
We ain't had shit, yeah, it was magic, yeah
Smash and grab shit, yeah
Nasty habits take a hold when you not here
Ain't a home when you not here
Hard to grow when you not here, I'm sayin'
I can't lose when I'm with you
How can I snooze and miss the moment?
You just too important
Nobody do body like you do
I can't lose when I'm with you
How can I snooze and miss the moment?
You just too important
Nobody do body like you do, you do
You signaled Joy to keep the track going when a idea popped into your head,
Main one ridin'
How you frontin' on me and I'm the main one tryin'?
How you blame it on me and you the main one lyin'?
How you threatenin' to leave and I'm the main one cryin'?
Just tryna be your everything
Main one ridin'
How you frontin' on me and I'm the main one tryin'?
How you blame it on me and you the main one lyin'?
How you threatenin' to leave and I'm the main one cryin'?
SZA leaned into the mic singing the hook. You nodded along adding faint back vocals which Joy was right on top of. Once the song ended you glanced at the Ipad noticing a comment that made a lump form in your throat.
Jenna joined Y/n’s live? My life is complete.
SZA rammed into your body which to your instincts held her waist as she squealed swaying you both side to side. You laughed lightly pulling back locking eyes with SZA. “WE DID IT!” you nodded at her excited outburst. “We did, you were amazing.” now she was quiet looking between your eyes.
“You have beautiful eyes, and your nose is cute and-”
“Ohhhkay, SZA girl, you are a little too close to my lova!” Letitia spoke into the mic which caused SZA to shuffle back sending a playful glare at the two girls giggling. “Better cuff 'em now or I’m gonna have to take matters into my own hands!” SZA joked back that you stood frozen and for sure looking like a tomato. SZA looked back at you, satisfied with the reaction she got out of you. She leaned forward placing a kiss on your cheek walking out the booth. You glanced at the screen seeing too many hearts flying around. You chuckled, rubbing the back of your neck.
“Please know my loves, my safe word is Pineapples and well… I'm really close to screaming Pina Colada.” Laughing emojis popped up and a name popped up with a blue check-
Proud of you.
You hummed, eyeing the comment then moving back, making your way out the booth leaning against the desk next to Letitia. You whispered a ‘thanks’ to her which she lightly bumped her shoulder against yours nodding. “You know I got you.”
“Alright, let's see their engineering skills Joy!” SZA hollered from the far end of the studio. She laid on the couch typing her way on her phone. You took a few steps into the studio grabbing the guitar playing a few chords. Why was she on your live? It's been months since you’ve spoken to her and you can’t shake this fire feeling in your chest that comes around when she's mentioned. Was it resentment? Anger? Unbagged feelings?
“You just finished a song and you're already making another?” Letitia's voice brought you back from your thoughts when she took a seat next to you. Shrugging your shoulders, you continued to play the chords whispering a few lyrics.
“She was my source of happiness and now that she is gone? This is all I have left.” You answered by playing a few more chords then placing the guitar next to you. You leaned your head on Leititas shoulder sighing softly. “Are you ready for tonight?” She whispered back, you nodded sliding your phone out your pocket answering Micheal back from his simple ‘WYD’ DM.
“I invited my two homies in case anything pops off, they can handle it.” Leitia playfully scoffed, bumping your shoulder. “I don’t think anything will go in that route tonight, I forget how you grew up; Jenna really took you out the hood huh?” You huffed rolling your eyes as a small smile crept onto your face.
“It was a nightmare, but here we are. Oh, Rome and Jay are on the way to the AirBnb. Let's scoop them up and we’ll go on that shopping spree I promised.” Letitia snorted, hopping up pulling you with her. You both made your way out the booth into the studio joining in on Joy’s and SZA conversation.
*time skip*
“You take longer than a whole female bro.” Jay gasped, dramatically placed his hand on his chest. Romeo snorted, draping his arm over your shoulder placing all his weight onto you which caused the both of you to fall over the couch. “Get. off.” Laughing loudly, you rolled away from the boy mirroring your actions falling into a boxing stance.
“I don’t see why you even try, they in that southpaw stance. You gonna get fu-” Jays words were shoved right back in his mouth when Rome hunched over holding his stomach. You hopped around smirking at the boy below you trying to catch his breath.
“Should have listened to Jay.” You giggled when Rome rushed your way but missed terribly when you dodged his action sending him into the arm of the couch.
“Alright you animals, let's go.” Joy yelled from upstairs coming down with Letitia by her side. Jay leaned against the bar flashing his pearly whites, “Have I told you that our kids will be the most beautiful mixed kids on this planet?” Joy rolled her eyes passing the tall boy as you sent a smack towards the boy's head. You all giggled heading down to the rental car.
*Time Skip*
You casually lean back on the comfortable seat watching Joy and Letitia try on different clothing. Jay and Rome both were sprawled out on the bigger couch in the corner, Joy giggled at something Letitia whispered which you mindlessly ignored and kept aware of your surroundings.
“If you don’t relax and come try on this outfit i swear.” Joy spoke which snapped you out of your thoughts. Shrugging your shoulders, you went back to eyeing the patterns on the wall. Jay eyed your body language while Rome laid his head against Jay snoring softly.
“Y/m/n.” Joy warned. Rome jumped out of his sleep searching for the voice when he saw you sink deeper into your chair. Jay snorted, shaking his head. “She is middle naming you now, I think you should try it on.” You rolled your eyes,hopping out your seat walking to the dressing room trying on the outfit. Sighing at your reflection, you walked out awaiting for the girl's answers.
“Yea, no. Take it off.” Joy mumbled eyeing the pants you wore. You dragged your feet back into the dressing room changing into your regular clothes. A voice was heard outside the door which you quickly buttoned up your jeans peeking your head out the door. A bright smile plastered your face when you saw who it was.
“What's up homie!” jogging to the man, you pulled him into a hug laughing softly. “Micheal B Jordan! Who knew he would come kick it with a youngin.” he laughed holding his hands up, “I see potential and your vibe is amazing, need you around homie!” You playfully scoffed, shaking your head pulling him in for another hug.
“Since you are here, get this flea a fit before I lose my mind.” Joy joked pushing you both out the dressing room area out the store. Micheal said his ‘hellos’ to Jay and Rome then threw his arm over your shoulder.
“We gon’ give them something to look at.” MB jokes, dragging you out of the store and down the street into a streetwear store. A smile crept on your face when you see the shoes come into view. “Now this is me.”
*SkipTime*
It was way more better shopping with the guys and no, not meaning the girls were annoying it was more of a get in and out gameplay. Jay hummed at your outfit as you walked out your bedroom, “You look like you’re about to go steal a lot of wives” You snorted at his comment fixing your collar to your thin shirt. You shook your foot feeling the tightness of the dress shoe which you were growing to dislike. MB noticed your expression tossing you the bag you bought earlier.
“Wear the forces, it’ll complete the look then fit with your style.” Placing on the shoes, Rome came down stairs from your guest bedroom leaning against the rail. “Damn, who mama we takin’ tonight?” Jay snorted lobbing the football to Rome which to my surprise caught from upstairs.
Grabbing the small box from the duffle bag, you opened the box grabbing the watch that caused a lump to form in your throat. Examining the gold watch, your finger ran over the engraved name that you never thought you would come close to again. Placing on the watch you grabbed the cologne bottle spraying it onto your neck and wrist.
“You never told me the name of that panty droppa” Jay joked walking past you towards the bar grabbing the keys twirling them towards MB. Jay tossed the keys to MB who quickly caught it sending a playful wink your way. You scoffed bumping your shoulder against his,
“Do not get fruity on me baby boy.” MB made a face while Rome wrapped his arm around the taller man following you out the Airbnb. “But-” Jay lifted his hand shaking his head, “It’s what we deal with, don’t even try bro.” You let out a giggle opening the backseat door for Rome sending him a dashing smile.
“For you my love” Rome placed a hand over his chest then playfully fanned his face. “What a gentleman!” You sent a fist into his shoulder which sent him stumbling into the backseat. Taking a seat in the passenger side you looked towards MB sending a small smile.
“Now lets see how this goes”
The ride was pretty eventful with the three boys. Singing, well, horribly. Heated debates and very funny remarks. MB reminded you of one of your close cousins you grew up with back home. Unfortunately, you lost him to gun violence but Micheal was a spitting image of him. Personality and all, so it brought you instant peace once you started getting back in touch with him again. Jay aka Jaime was your ‘almost’ adopted brother; grew up with you since elementary. From standing up to the snot heads in 4th grade for you to running from the laws right by your side. He was with you through it all, he never let one disrespect you or look at you the wrong way. Romeo was your best friend. Rome is what you called him since you loved to make fun of his clumsiness, he’s always leaning before he falls. He always looked up to you. The way you could ‘hold your head high when your life was crashing down’ is what he says to you the moment he gets the call about the breakup. Now that boy can keep you and Jay on your toes. Very. VERY. hard headed. Remember the sweet moment from 4th grade with Jay then the marathon with the laws?
“Wake the fuck up!” Jay yelled barging into your room going through your closet. Jumping out of your sleep, you snapped your head to your brother tossing a hoodie into your face. You slipped on the piece of clothing then slipped on your shoes.
“Talk to me. What happened?” Jay huffed, grabbing the backpack you knew too well. You groaned, grabbing the end of the mattress, lifting and letting Jay grab the firearm that laid underneath the suit you placed on top. A small voice screamed for you to not do this but hey, you knew you had to do what you had to do. You followed behind Jay out the door, hopping in his car driving to the location.
“What the dingo do now?” you asked. Jay did not respond when you knew the answer when the street sign caught your eye. He didn’t even get the chance to place the car in park when you sprung out sprinting into the alley. Three hooded figures sent kicks and blows into the person curled up on the floor. Using all the power in your arm, you sent a fist into one of the men knocking him down. Jay was right behind you throwing jabs at another, grabbing the pipe that laid against the wall you swung hitting the boy (his hood now off his head) in the shoulder.
“Tell Carlos he got some balls sending people to come fuck with us.” You growled, grabbing the other person, shoving him into the ground. Jay knocked the last boy into the wall which sent him limping to his crew. One of the boys sent you a smile, blood coating his teeth.
“Carlos just wanted to send his condolences, he was aiming for a close casket.” Once those words slipped his mouth Rome was quick to grab the hand that was already reaching into your waistband. Jay used his own pistol, sending shots near their feet that sent them running for the hills. Tears pricked your eyes as the words kept playing in your head. Lights flashed in your peripheral that caused the three of you to start sprinting to the car. You pushed Rome in the direction of the car.
“GO. They won't know it's you, meet us at home.” Rome sighed at your command but was quick to catch the keys from Jay driving off. You looked at Jay sending him a sad smile.
“Still remember the way?” You asked Jay jogging down the alley
“Like it was yesterday.”
Stepping out of the vehicle you noticed a lot of paparazzis front of the restaurant/bar. Grabbing the shades from your pocket you mentally prepared yourself for the shouting for the man next to you.
“Bliss!”
“Over Bliss!” “Looking good Y/N!”
Your eyes widen at the multiple calls of your name when MB laughed softly,
“Since when did I get clout?” completely in shock, you started making your way up the stairway but not forgetting to flash a smile to the cameras. Jay snorted, patting your back then striking a pose with you, “You were all over shaderoom with SZA '' ahhh, that's what it was. Probably some rumors about you both being together. Well she was beautiful but realistically speaking, you could NOT handle all that… beauty. Yeah. Beauty. Laughing out loud at the thought you reached the last step watching the door being opened for you by Rome.
“Bliss! Were you involved with the altercation with Jenna and Percy?”
You planted your feet, snapping your head to the voice that caused your body to go into autopilot. You walked to the voice standing in front of the man. Jay missed your arm by an inch trying his best to pull you back.
“What happened?”
The older man's eyes widen at the fact that you were in front of him awaiting for a answer, “Last night there is footage of them two arguing and Percy looked to be a little up close and personal with Jenna and-” he did not even get to finish, you were already making your way inside to the huge table in the back to sat all the faces you knew too well but one stood out. Jenna's eyes caught your heated figure and immediately stood from her chair to stop you. Joy began to panic knowing the look on your face but before you could reach the table MB, Jay and Rome were pushing you into the doors of the huge area for the restrooms.
“Hey! You are not thinking right now. Calm down.” MB was the first to speak as Jay had you trapped between him and the wall. Rome was keeping watch at the door making sure no one came in. You couldn't help but dig your fingernails into your palms trying your best to keep your past actions inside.
“I just want to talk to him.” you breathed out trying to squeeze your way out of Jay’s hold to only be shoved once again into the wall.
“This is what he wants Y/n. To ruin your image. Be smart on this.” Rome spoke, shaking his head at the window at the door shoo’ing off the person attempting to walk in. You took a deep breath realizing the truth. You can't go out like this. This is what she wanted. That is not your concern anymore. She is not yours and you are not hers. You nodded, taking a few breaths but hissed at the stinging in your hand. Jay huffed yet chuckled, grabbing the napkins that were displayed in the area and applied it to your hand.
“Old habit huh.” you smiled fixing your collar then nodding at MB and the duo. Jay sighed sending a small smile your way starting his way out the doors. MB patted your shoulder slightly pushing you out the doors. “I really wanted to get some hits on this fine Friday evening.” Rome mumbled which you snorted, slapping the back of his head. Making your way to the table, Letitia was the first to stand bringing you into a hug.
“You good?” Her muffled question only made you nod patting her back. Moving away, you gave everyone a smile and a simple ‘Hey’ which Emma was quick to dash out her seat jumping into your arms. “Oh how i have missed you!” She fake cried squeezing her thighs around your waist that sent a loud yelp out your mouth. Joy was quick to pull her off at the sudden touch that was quick to spark your anxiety.
“Woah, now you look good.” Georgie commented, making his way to your side bringing you into a hug. You wrapped your arms around him, tightening your hold, he was your right hand when you went to visit Jenna on set. If Jenna was out with her girls or Percy, He’d come over or you would be in his living room playing Call of Duty Online while he sat in his gaming room streaming with you. He noticed the change in Percy and Jenna when everything was starting to go downhill. He was the first to bring it to your attention but being so in love with the girl, you ignored it. Maybe being secure makes you an easy target to take for granted.
“You've been working out?” Georgie asked wrapping his hand around your inner bicep squeezing that sent a shock into your side that made you flinch sending a light punch into his arm laughing softly. The man sent out a small yelp holding his arm mumbling, “oh yeah, you have.” You moved down the line till you came to a face that you knew too well and no, it was not Jenna.
“Going ghost is what you do now huh?” Johnna spoke, pulling you into a very tight hug. Patting her back, you gently pulled away and sent her a small smile. “Just needed to get away from the world.” She only nodded, keeping her eyes locked into yours. See, the thing with Johnna was she had her eyes on you along with Jenna when you came around. You were a friend of Joy’s when she dragged you to Romania after the behavior change you had once you lost your cousin. That was 4 years ago, but as you can tell Jenna won your heart and Johnna became the scout on the sidelines just waiting her turn. ‘A benchwarmer’ is what Rome said when he literally saw her watching you like a hawk in the distance. Jay cleared his throat allowing you to finally pull away from her hold taking a seat next to Joy. The gods above are probably laughing their asses off on how the seating was at the long table. Looking up to grab the menu a familiar ring came into your view.
“Hi.” Jenna breathed out, your eyes widened at her voice quickly averting your gaze to look over at the boy sitting next to her which you regretted when he sent a smirk your way and placed a small peck onto Jennas cheek.
“Hey.” Was all you said as you grumbled profanities, an idea popped in your head; glancing at Jay which he already caught your drift whispering in Johnna’s ear as she quickly switched seats with him and sent you a very bright smile leaning into your side. Most of the time you’d catch Jenna sneaking glances your way when you’d crack a joke and Johnna would laugh pretty loud. You did pull a dick move when you wiped the smudge lipstick on the side of her lip with your thumb, that seemed to catch Rome’s attention that caused him to choke on his drink.
The main dishes arrived and everyone got to digging in and continuing to catch up on whatever they left off on. To your luck, your social battery was draining and the anxiety you hated so much decided to toy with you. You lifted your hand to grab the condiment yet it slipped from your sweaty palm, fell onto the plate and some landed on your shirt; Now that spiked your anxiety. The shakiness in your hands increased as you went to run your hand through your hair. Jay noticed when you quickly dismissed yourself from the table wobbling to the restroom.
“Stupid fucking shit!” You mumbled out attempting to clean out the stain on your shirt and pants. The stain seemed to be getting worse which was now ticking at your anger,
“You never had much patience with cleaning.” Your head shot up to the voice then snapped back to the stain cleaning it. Jenna took a few steps towards you which you stepped back shaking your head.
“Please, let me.” your hands dropped to your side while she stood in front of you with a small cloth.
“Dab. Don’t wipe.” You couldn’t stop the roll of your eyes. Of course she’d say that. She was never home but when she was mad she would power clean the whole damn house. You felt pressure near your lower area which you caught her hand but couldn't stop the grunt that fell from your lips.
“Stop. I got it.” She took a small step back watching your movements but noticed the shaking in your hands. “Breathe.” She whispered but was only an echo in the back of your mind. Shaking your head, the room started to shrink which was not helping at all. Jenna knew these attacks too well when she gently placed her hands on the sides of your face locking her gaze into yours. Everything stopped. The voices. The noises. The pain. Oh how bad have you been hurting since you left her side.
“I love you.”
That was all that could be said. You loved her. You missed her. You needed her. It only came out as a whisper but to her, it sounded like you screamed from the top of your lungs.
“And I love you.”
Hearing her words an instant image of Percy popped in your head which you flinched away, moving as far as you possibly could. No. She doesn't love you. Not as much as you do. God, how you missed her. Her simple yet fancy attire really brought out the success she has done. She looked down nodding her head, “I know.”
“Do you love him?” She was quick on her toes blurting out a ‘no’ and you were back putty in her hands again.
“Being away from you for so long made me realize that I am deeply in love with you and I can't live without you.” she whispered again slowly pulling you closer. The height difference was very noticeable when you had to look down at the girl whose head was almost laid on your chest.
“In love or scared of being alone?” Now that caught her off guard, she looked up to see the tired look in your eyes. She knew there were still nights you dreamed of losing your cousin and to make things a tad worse, you lost her. She knew you were in a war with your old self, trying to stay afloat.
A knock on the door echoed through the restroom and a voice you grew to dislike caused you to move away from Jenna. “Jen? You okay?” Percy asked through the door. Jenna sighed replying with a ‘yes’ which you rolled your eyes fixing the belt on your jeans.
The doors opened revealing Percy. Jenna’s eyes widened at the actions he's done when you were quick on your toes walking towards him. “You’re not supposed to be in here.” a smirk visible on his face, your height was a bit shorter but you’ve taken on men twice his size. He’ll be a simple sleeper.
“Like you’re welcomed in here.”
Jenna’s eyes almost popped out her sockets when you only chuckled, running your tongue over your top teeth. Looking at the boy sending him a small tight lipped smile but Jenna was quick to step between the two of you pushing Percy out the restroom.
“Get your man Marie, or my crew will.” Jenna nodded quickly but Percy opened the door wide sending you one last look that you wanted to swipe off his damn face.
“Jen, make sure your dog is tamed.” You turned, grabbing the wash cloth from the sink, running it under the water. Knuckles white, you were hoping the boys knew you were gone for a while, coming to the rescue.
“Put a leash on that street mutt while you’re at it.” Jenna turned to Percy instantly shoving him back at his choice of words but it was too late. You had enough.
Walking to the boy, not caring the smaller girl was between you two, you wrapped the damped towel around your knuckles sending a fist into his nose. The boy stumbled back out the doors landing on his back. Jay and Rome were quick on sprinting to the scene, grabbing you off the boy. Percy took his chance when you were struggling against Rome, he jumped up and cocked his arm back connecting his fist to your jaw.
“You should let me go now.” You warned Rome and he released his hold from your shirt when you sprung towards the boy sending multiple jabs to his face. Letting the last punch be a reminder to not fuck with you, his body folded dropping onto the table everyone was sat at. See, simple sleeper. Gasps fell from the people's mouth when you sprung once more at the boy, but this time Jenna stood in front of you with her hands on your chest.
“Stop, please.”
The adrenaline faded instantly once you came to your senses. Jenna had tears in her eyes, MB was holding Rome against a wall trying to calm him down, Jay had his hand on your shoulder speaking to you but his voice was miles away. Johnna held a look in her eye, it was maybe arousal? Letitia seemed disappointed but nodded at the result. and Joy? She held a look of relief. Maybe he needed a reality check and you were the one to give it to him. Finally locking eyes with the girl in front of you, you sent a painful chuckle her way.
“And here I thought you’d find someone better than me,” Jenna sent a look you couldn’t quite dissect when Jay finally tapped your shoulder.
“We gotta go. MB got the whip out back.” You nodded leaning back, making your way out the back door. Letitia and Joy made their way by your side walking through the kitchen.
“I’m sorry it has to come to this.” was all you could say. Joy scooped up a frozen pack of vegetables that laid on the board, placing it against your jaw. The SUV came into view when you slid into the front seat keeping your eyes locked on the dashboard in front of you.
“If you all are going to scold me for breaking, save it.” You mumbled feeling a warm stream of blood drip from your lip. Quickly wiping it off with the end of your shirt, Joy snorted which caused you to turn your head in her direction to meet everyone with proud smirks on their faces.
“I am not mad. Letitia?” Letitia shook her head, “I think Rome shouldn’t have grabbed you in the first place.” MB snorted tapping you on the shoulder, you rolled your eyes trying your best to contain the small tugging the corner of your lips.
“Do not be mad, but you are not going back to the bnb.” MB mumbled, your eyebrows furrowed when a gate you knew too well. The huge metal gates opened when your door was opened by a man in a black suit. Leaning against the door, you mumbled to the man- “Just tell her I fell out the car a few miles back.” He only smiled shaking his head,
“I would if I could, but she's watching the cameras as we speak. She will be arriving here shortly.” You could only groan and drag your feet up the driveway.
“We don’t need any babies in the house anytime soon-” Jay shouted from the back window while you were quick to toss the melting bag at the boy's head which sent a ‘oof’ out his mouth. The car howled in laughter as they drove off into the night. Sighing, you reached her door by putting in the code. Stepping into her large entrance, you made your way to the kitchen opening the fridge grabbing a water bottle. hopping onto the island you looked around her kitchen to see everything was still the same from the last time you were here. Maybe from her being in Romania and filming Beetlejuice or Scream. Sliding off the island and tossing the empty water bottle into the recycle bin you walked up the stairs to a room you knew too well.
“Damn Jenna,” you whispered, turning on the Neon sign that illuminated the entire room. You hummed and smiled when the sound echoed throughout the room. You walked to the small desk that still held your laptop taking a seat. Logging in, your last mix was still open and untouched from the last time you were in here and that was maybe a year ago. The song was complete but you felt like it deserved a slower version. Pressing play, you started your journey on changing the tempo, tune and even adding chops. What you didn’t notice after a good thirty minutes was a silhouette of the girl leaning against the door lost in your zone. Nodding your head at your results, moving your fingers with the beat and singing along.
“You were always stuck on that song.” she finally spoke which caused you to snort softly nodding. You started the song back to mix and save the song cause who were you to pull a rookie mistake.
“Wasn’t my type of vibe at the time, but i finished it.” you started turning to face her, “You always wondered who i was writing about, it was about you when i first saw you.” Jenna smiled your way, opening the door wider, letting the hallway light shine onto your face. Her smile fell when she noticed the dried blood on your shirt and the cut on your lip still bleeding. You stood on your feet walking out the room into her bedroom heading straight to her master bath. Plotting down on the toilet with Jenna already grabbing the first aid kit, you hummed quietly awaiting for the war you knew was about to start.
“George told me that you broke his nose and he needed stitches for his eyebrow” she started grabbing the gauze placing it onto the top of the alcohol bottle. You turned your gaze from her actions scoffing loudly. “That's not enough.” she shook her head applying the cloth onto your lip which did cause you to flinch back. A loud sound rang through the bathroom when your elbow rammed into the toilet top. A growl bubbled your throat when you looked up through your lashes to see Jenna placing a hand on her hip watching the sight in front of her.
“You didn’t warn me.” A hand was placed on your thigh which you grumbled spreading your legs slightly open so the girl could step in between.
“You should be used to this by now.” She was right. You should be but you werent. Jenna met you at a bad time in your life. The late nights where you appeared at her doorstep with the sound of the constant ‘no’s’ you mumbled and bloodied clothes that were indeed yours. Broken ribs, black eyes, concussions and you promised her to not take you to the hospital. To this day, she's kept it. After applying a damp rag on your jaw, Jenna moved to grab the small can of ointment to place on your lip. Standing up, you leaned against the sink watching her movements.
“I heard about the argument from some camera head.” Jenna hummed, keeping her eyes strained on the ointment. She shook her head but the way she was at peace caused you to lean closer towards her. “You don't deserve that Marie.” you continued, placing your shaking hand onto hers. She looked up to see your hooded eyes.
“Then what do I deserve?” she whispered when your free hand ghosted over her hip. You shrugged, sending her a playful smirk.
“A bliss.”
“Oh really?” She teased. You nodded towering over her, the ointment was long gone from the both minds that only craved one thing.
“I-”
Her lips smashed against yours, with a force that caused your backside to hit the sink. You wrapped your arms around her waist pulling her closer. So close you could feel her body molding into yours. You pulled away when your chest felt very tight, shaking your head leaning your body back against the sink.
“We going too fast now” You whispered, placing everything back into the first aid kit. Her chest heaving from the heavy breathing, she agreed with a nod walking into her room disappearing in her huge closet. You awkwardly stood in the middle of her room not knowing what to do. She walked back out with a set of clothes that were yours, you sent her a small smile grabbing the clothes from her hands walking back into the restroom. You turned on the shower then you were back in front of the mirror with your head in your hands. Removing your shirt, you noticed there was more dried and fresh blood streaming down your side. Grumbling, you turned towards the side trying to see where the blood came from but to your luck, you couldn't see shit.
“You’re bleeding.” Jenna spoke again, you nodded still trying to see where the bleeding was from but she could. Grabbing the rag from the sink and placing it onto your back, a satisfied sigh slipped from your lips. Her fingers ran along your back and sides causing your knuckles to turn white from gripping the counter a little too hard.
“It should stop when you shower, let me get you a towel.” Before she could walk away you grabbed her hand bringing her back to you. “I just want to say thank you…for you know helping me and not seeing me as the bad guy.” there was a small spark in her eyes which caused everything to go dark around her. The spark you saw when she first stood this close to you when she caught you playing a pick up game with your crew after she came home for a short vacation.
“Aye Bliss, ain't that yo girl?” Rome shouted from down the court while you were trying to get out of this weak ass lock up from Pedro. You glanced to see the small girl taking a seat on the bleachers with a small smile on her face. Two tall buff men sat next to her when all you could do was smirk. “Come on B, you ball hogging.” Pedro mumbled reaching in to steal the ball, you moved the ball to your free hand leaving him in the dust. You did a no-look-pass towards Jaime letting him drop a dime. Sending a cocky smile you pushed his buttons, “I see you missed your appointment with Dr.D since them ankles keep breaking.” Everyone laughed but then ran your way when Pedro pushed you with force causing you to fall on your back. Quickly hopping back up with Rome wrapping his arms around you moving you away from the scene.
“Go with yo girl brah” you laughed as he pushed you her way. Fixing your necklace and sending her that billion dollar smile. “What’s good mama!” She jumped into your arms as you held her close. She wore a mask and hoodie on so no one couldn’t tell who she was but the two men gave it away for you and the crew. ‘We know it’s yo girl with all that security she got’ is what your boys would say when you would get that ‘i’m outside’ the first time you both started seeing each other. You brought her back down to her feet with your hands still on her waist. Her eyes held a spark that made your heart pick up speed.
“I missed you.” she whispered still with her eyes locked on yours. You both didn’t dare move a muscle, you could see the things she wanted to say in her eyes. It’s like the sun knew how you both felt when it hit just right in her eyes. “And I missed you. Pull down the mask and give me a kiss, ain't nobody watching.” She let out a small giggle doing what you told and smashed her lips into yours.
“Mane y'all take that lovey dovey shit somewhere else!” one of the players shouted when you only laughed into the kiss pulling her closer.
It was very hard to keep your feelings at bay when the girl you loved more than words could explain when she was in your arms giving you the look that made you change to who you are today. You let her go grab the towel as you removed your pants so you were left in your sports bra and briefs. She came back and handed you a towel when she stood eyeing the new ink on your skin.
“You finally got the ink you always wanted huh?” she started as you ran your hand under the water humming when the water was just right. “Yeah, I still have my sides to do but you know.” you answered, Jenna leaned against the door frame again chuckling softly.
“You got time.” Your smile fell when the cries of your aunt echoed in your ears. “Time is something we take for granted. This life I live? I don’t have time, I could go any second due to the life I lived.” You spoke, grabbing the towel and placing it onto the toilet top. “That is why I spent every moment with you like it was my last. The thought of leaving this earth with us not on good terms will literally crush me even in the afterlife.” Finally looking up at the girl in front of you, tears brimmed her eyes as she moved closer wrapping her arms around your waist and burying her face into your chest.
“You gave me the world and I still put you through so much. I wanted to take you from a place that caused you pain and here I am feeding more into it.” She spoke into your chest. Sighing, you pulled away looking down at her.
“Let me ask you something.” You started, pulling away letting her hop on the sink awaiting your question. “What did he give you that I couldn’t?”
“I was waiting for a time to tell you this. All those years I kept you hidden from the world that I couldn’t take you anywhere I went. It was draining not having you with me that I decided that it was time to tell the world that you were my person.” She started. You noticed it was going to take a turn when she started playing with her bracelet. “I went to my team to let them know and it went downhill. Most were fine with my decision- hell my manager was happy about it but my PR manager was furious. He wanted me to be with Percy since you were not good for my image. So I spent more time with Percy and I was blinded by wanting to get the stunt over with that being away from you made him seem like someone I could fall into.” You nodded and leaned against the wall keeping your eyes locked on the sliding glass that began to fog up from the hot water.
“Why did you kiss him?” You whispered, preparing for the worst. You wanted an explanation and even if it was months since everything happened you wanted answers. This girl was your everything and finding out all this information made guilt engulf you whole.
“He kissed me. A few hours before…” She motioned her hand between you two. “Everything happened, I was in a meeting and they wanted to do a stunt that involved a kiss. I hated it. I denied it so I was on the way to go see you when Emma stopped me and it was like the world wanted me to sink in a hole. Percy got word before I did and being the prick he is…He gave me a hug and kissed me.” a short breath darted out your nose. You looked to meet her eyes when all you saw were tears.
“He knew you were there. Everything was crashing at once. I tried to explain and I admit that I said things I didn’t mean but the moment you walked out that door I realized I lost the most important person in my life. I lost my light.” She finished looking up from her hands to meet your gaze.
“I went back home when I left.” Her eyes widened when you whispered your confession. “I went to go see my family, and if the world wanted to kill me…not only did I lose my cousin who was like a brother to me,” You stopped trying to swallow the lump in your throat. “I lost my Aunt two weeks after I got back. I fell into this dark place for a few weeks. I went to see Marcos.” Jenna whispered a ‘no’ when that name flew out your mouth. “I did some things that still haunt me at night because I was hurt. Alone. I decided to come back after being there for a good month and Joy took me in and I’ve been trying to pick myself back up since.”
“I wanted a life with you. A family. I respected your decision with your privacy because at the end of the day I was the one you came home to. Jenna, I felt so lost when everything happened and all we needed to do was communicate.” You finished wiping the single tear that slipped down your cheek.
“Would you leave if I asked you, could we try this again?” Jenna whispered. Due to the steam now filling the room you could barely see the small girls frown. You took a step closer. “Would you leave if I told you to give me a hundred dollars and you get a deal?” A laugh flew out the girls mouth at your humor when you moved to the switch to turn on the vent. Her hand was placed on yours stopping you, her free hand cupped your cheek and once you saw the look in her eyes you leaned in placing your lips against hers.
Your lips moved in sync as if both were made for one another. The fireworks that no longer felt like bombs you ran from but the pure feeling of relief you searched for in the last six months. The force of anticipation in the girl in front of you caused your back to hit the wall but the warm water sent a gasp out your mouth and a giggle out of hers.
That didn’t matter after a few seconds when Jenna's hands went to her soaked shirt, removing it. Clothes were discarded and lips were placed in places you both desired. You craved her as if she was the cool hidden sanctuary in the hot scorching desert. She craved you as if you were the nectar from the flower that only grew in a place that no one could reach in this cruel world. You both craved each other in this asylum you all call home. Scientists say the earth is seventy one percent water but all the water you need to quench the thirst of happiness is right in front of you…dropping onto her knees.
***
After a few hours of reuniting in your words, your head rested against Jennas pillow as her head laid against your chest humming softly. You sighed running your fingers through her hair,
“So what now?”
Jennas head lifted, her eyes staring into yours, she placed a chaste kiss onto your lips drawing shapes onto your cheek,
“Well, if you are up for it…I am actually on a two week break as of right now. We can head to the office for a meeting and let them know.” Your eyes widen. She was serious. She wanted the world to know you were hers and she was yours. Years of wanting to make this woman your everything with a rock in your hand but this? This felt like she wanted to do it. You nodded, wrapping your arm around her, bringing her more into your embrace.
“Okay. We can do that.”
Jenna hummed once more, placing her head back onto your bare chest as you leaned over grabbing your phone on the nightstand. Squinting your eyes at the brightness of your phone, multiple notifications of your crew popped on the screen. Clicking on your recent missed call, ringing was heard throughout the room when you placed it on speaker.
“Yeeeeeeoooo” Jay sang through the phone.
“Yo, did you guys make it back safe?” there was static but a voice in the background caused you to roll your eyes.
“Gone head cashapp me that bill will ya? They made about four babies since it's been a good four hours.” Romeo slang out,
“I told you Jenna was their light.” Joy spoke in the background and a lot of ‘ohhs’ boomed from the phone. You looked down at the girl sending her a warm smile.
“She was my touch in the dark.”
64 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Reward: Diavolo/Simeon
Part Four of Special Bonus Content
Content Warning: name-calling, biting
Diavolo and Simeon are off in a corner, looking rather serious as they're whispering to each other. I know that they have a professional relationship resulting from a mutual desire to unite the three realms, but I didn't think they talked much beyond that.
Apparently, I was wrong.
The two of them approach me, stopping at the foot of the bed. Simeon looks like he's seconds away from bolting, but Diavolo rests a hand on his shoulder, making him stay in place.
And then it dawns on me.
"You're scared, aren't you?" I ask Simeon, who nods his head.
"It hit me all at once," he whispers. "It's one thing to think about doing this, but actually being presented with the opportunity is something else entirely. I mean, I know we're in the dream realm, but that doesn't mean there won't be real-world consequences, and I..." He trails off, swallowing nervously.
"He fears that he's about to fly too close to the sun, so to speak," Diavolo continues. "And he's not sure whether to risk the fall or not." That makes sense. Simeon's feelings towards me are intense, but at the end of the day, he's still an angel. He's been conditioned for thousands of years to not succumb to sin. If he follows through on any of the fantasies I saw, his life as he knows it is over. He no longer would be able to call the Celestial Realm his home.
"It also doesn't help that I was all gun-ho about it earlier." Simeon looks down in embarrassment. "I don't want to look like a chicken by backing out."
"Bro," Mammon pipes up. "None of us are gonna judge you if you change your mind, least of all MC. We might have chosen our fate for different reasons, but that doesn't mean it was an easy decision to make. I remember Lucifer and I going back and forth about it a buncha times before we even thought about our first move. So not knowing which direction you're gonna go in is completely normal."
"Didn't think Mammon had it in him to be insightful," Levi mutters, earning a hard jab from his brother.
"You know my position on this, but if you feel like you need to take a back seat or leave this dream entirely, then that's fine as well," Diavolo tells Simeon, making me raise an eyebrow in disapproval.
"Really?" I ask the prince. "We're playing into tropes now?"
"He's right." Simeon's statement surprises me. "If it weren't for the apple, then you wouldn't be here, and you're the best thing that has happened to me in a really long time." The next thing I know, the angel's straddling my lap.
"I hope you're ready, MC," he murmurs. "Because I plan on making the Celestial Realm seem like a cheap imitation of heaven by the time I'm done with you." Diavolo clears his throat, reminding Simeon of his presence. The angel merely smirks as he asks me,
"Think you can handle both of us, MC?"
"Well, only one way to find out."
The dynamic that quickly develops between Simeon and Diavolo is insane. With only brief glances, they're able to communicate in a way that rivals the twin telepathy of Beel and Belphie. Between the two of them, they're able to work me up in a matter of seconds.
"This isn't fair," I whine. The two men chuckle.
"Did you really expect us to take it easy on you?" Simeon whispers, grinning wickedly. "You should know better than that, MC."
"Perhaps they're not as smart as we thought they were," Diavolo adds in a teasing tone.
"Or maybe being fucked by multiple men has made them temporarily stupid." Simeon pinches my chin between two of his fingers. "Is that it, MC? Have all the thoughts in your pretty little head been wiped clean and replaced with the sole desire of receiving as much dick as you possibly can?" Diavolo tightly grips my thighs.
"Answer him," he hisses. I manage to stammer out a "yes".
"Well, I'll give you this: at least you're honest," Simeon responds. "I suppose if you want to act like a needy whore, then we have no choice but to treat you like one." He glances at Diavolo, who nods in agreement. The next thing I know, my back's pressed against the prince's chest, my wrists restrained by his hands. Simeon nearly towers over me as he begins stroking himself.
"Are you ready?" he asks me.
"For what?"
"This." With that, he begins pounding into me relentlessly. Diavolo, meanwhile, bites down on my neck and begins sucking. The combined sensations are making me rather lightheaded, but not necessarily in a bad way.
I feel like I'm in a state of pure euphoria.
Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @anxious-chick
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
hey okay i dont know what about my blog made it seem like im okay with "pro contact" or ""complex contact"" ppl interacting with me. there is no fucking nuance when it comes to whether or not its okay for adults to sexually abuse children. if you are either of the above i think you are horrifying and you need to stay far far away from me and children generally
#also if you think that being against adults sexually abusing children is just 'discourse' that 'divides your community'#then you need to take a long fucking look at the communities youre in and the ppl youre around#some of you radqueer mfs following me need to do some self reflection#bcs being against the assault of childreb is not petty discourse lmao#and if yall think im vaguing about anybody who doesnt deserve it here im not. this is not about anybody whos been unfairly accused#this is about somebody who followed me yesterday whos dni included 'ppl who are strictly anti contact. bcs theres nuance'#csa mention
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
revoking the rights of every manhwa fan talking about women until they learn a little something called Nuance and The World Doesnt Begin And End With Our Main Character
#some of you people need to stop and take a long hard look at your behavior and biases.#and you wonder why isekai manhwa is rampant with sexism / racism / fatphobia / etc etc.#even if its not an authors fault. the community around it just loves to be fucking stupid !! my god !!
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
i'm going to destroy this damn phone
- the boss avoider
#long vent / rant on tags open at your own risk#straight up turned off my phone and put teams on do not disturb because i was TRYING TO WORK and kept getting interrupted by his whining#(he particularly said he needed me to work [read: be at the office. december 22.] while hindering my ability to do so !!!)#like the job is lame and boring and all but as much as i bitch about it i overall don't mind it that much#i was on a nice roll. think i finished this first website draft in record time (it's not very complicated but still. just 2 days)#and i stg i never have any problems with my project heads yknow. it's not a matter of being bad at receiving orders or w/e#and regardless of what he might say the communication problems are not on my end. bc again it doesn't happen w anyone else#i brought it up with him and he said 'well communication is a two way street you have to do it too' but tell me how can i talk to this man#i misunderstand a message he sends bc he never ever details what he wants even after i specifically asked him to yknow#tell me the whole information when he asks something of me#and then i respond based on the message i received and he goes 'well show me where i said that' FUCK YOU#he's always so passive aggressive about it all too#like if you say 'we have to look at the marketing materials to make new social media posts' and then. not tell me anything else#how am i supposed to know that there's a specific folder and you want me to take the text previously written and put it on new images#like that's a whole other sentence my guy you cannot be mad that i thought you wanted me to scour your social media and#make new posts whole cloth. fuck right off i have to put in my notice bc it's impossible to work under a man like this#like forgive me for the expression but he absolutely lacks leadership skills#if you're not good with people you should just delegate those parts to people who are and focus on reading about the metav3rse#GOD. i'll soon be sent to the seaside for my health (new years trip w my friends) but. i won't be on break at all so :grimace:#because there's that too. haven't had a single break except for holidays but like. only the DAY of the holiday#holiday on a thursday and you're expecting a nice four day weekend? well too bad get fucked you're working that friday#like jesus you're not providing anything so important you need to work your employees every legally allowed day of the year#just stop for the holidays! people won't die because someone's website has been delayed for two weeks!#to think i even considered learning frontend to branch my career options. i'm not stepping foot in a tech company again in my life#i mean there's still self important bosses everywhere. my friend's at a marketing agency and god knows the owner is crazy but#the grindset is gonna kill you and i won't let it kill me too.
0 notes
Text
being Sukuna's favorite concubine and soon to be his only wife
Heian era, NSFW, no usage of Y/N
Sukuna would randomly and easily pick you up on his shoulders, carrying you around with his usual stern expression. He would gently put you on the bed, spreading your legs and tucking your kimono up to look at that pretty little pussy of yours. He opens the collar of your kimono to see how your soft, sensitive breasts bounce while fucking you.
He would be gentle in sex with you. He used to be rough and careless with his other concubines, but with you, his main concentration is hearing your little whines and whimpers.
Slowly but surely thrusting his fat cock in your little pussy hole, trying his best not to hurt you, and each time you let out a little innocent painful noise, he curses himself for causing you pain. He's extra careful but still, his cock is just too big for you and it's not easy for you to take it.
He would fuck you for so long, cumming in you and when he pulls out, he'll watch his seed oozing out of your little hole. It just doesn't stop. Then he would say "all my seed is wasted... I have to fill you again, little lady, hmm?" and push his cock in your already filled pussy again, thrusting slowly and kissing your temples and your jaw, caressing your hair and praising you between his groans:
"Such a small, adorable vulnerable woman. I need to protect you and our future children that I'm gonna put into you."
He would cuddle with you after sex and you can't escape from his four arms that are wrapped around you.
He gets hard every time he sees you. He's basically always hard for you. You're just so small and cute, caressing him and kissing his face and hair, giggling and showing him your clothes, dressing up for him, sitting on his lap, clinging on him, feeling safe and secure, telling him about the interesting stories that you read in the books.
He would caress and brush your hair. He loves seeing your free, long hair around you.
He most definitely would ban any verbal communication between you and the servants. They're not allowed to talk to you. Only the two maids you trust the most are allowed to talk to you. Not that much, though. Only receiving your orders and do what you ask them to do.
He would also probably ask you not to wear underwear under your kimono so that he can take you easily when he wants, without having to rip those pretty delicate panties of yours... he just worries about your panties that much!
#jjk#sukuna#jjk smut#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x reader#jujutsu sukuna#husband sukuna#jjk men#sukuna ryomen smut#ryomen x reader
7K notes
·
View notes
Text
the problem is that being single is seen as the consolidation prize, and not the natural neutral state of being-a-person. at the end of the movie or the book or the poetry, there is a person waiting for you at the altar, and they love you. if the play is a comedy, everyone gets married. the metaphor is about how you are not-whole. the metaphor is about how everyone is going to be happily-ever-after. the metaphor is that romantic love is the most important resource on the planet, not just all-love. all-love is not a thing, that is a disappointment. the treasure is not the friends we made along the way. the treasure is the girl you landed.
the metaphor is that you cannot be alone, that means you are broken. are you getting over someone? that is acceptable, you can be getting over someone, but not for long. you must be single because you would rather not be single. you must be single and looking to not-be-single. you must want to date, eventually.
friendship and community are never seen as being equal-to or even-better than romantic connection. that person is your one! you need to find them. you need to hunt through the sand particles until you can shift out some kind of gem. this is regardless to your own experience of the beach and the sun. you need to be somewhere with someone.
if you are taking this time alone to heal, that is so sad. everyone gives you this little pitying look. the understanding is that you are not actually happier than you were before you were single. it is seen as a sort of pity - oh, you are choosing yourself, making yourself the priority? - that isn't quite right. you must mean that you are making yourself ready for the right person. you are just laying the bed better this time. open up your heart. you'll find them, we promise!
what do you mean you're really-truly genuinely-very happy? you are probably misremembering what it was like to be in a relationship. and besides, once you meet your person, that time will look grey and bland and wasted. your person is the only way for you to see in color. so what if you have taken this time - for the first time in your entire life - to actually-for-real do the fucking work. you can be proud of yourself, sure. but the way we need to know that you got better is that you get a partner. you're healed enough for the next bad part!
people don't choose to be single, they just say they're choosing to be single - they actually mean "nobody wants to date me." it doesn't matter how many people you have gently rejected or how many times you've talked it over carefully in therapy. what matters is that you are single, and by all accounts - that means you are something worth our pity. your successes and life all seem pale in the sunlight. sure, you have done amazing things and finally found your way in life. what matters is that there wasn't a person in the room with you while you did it.
you want to tell them - that's the whole thing. i didn't know how to be alone in the room. i didn't know how to handle the silence. every moment was so sharp, and i kept choosing the wrong way to close the door. i have spent my entire life in the empty well, living in the ricochet of someone else's cruelty. for once i have built myself a ladder. for once everything i taste is all mine, every bite of sunshine and laughter. i have learned how to sleep out in the open with my memories. recently, they have started to purr.
your father rolls his eyes. listen. this isn't about you. i just want a grandchild in my future.
#writeblr#i actually didn't want a girlfriend before nat#and my dad recently said to me - raquel. i don't approve of the promiscuity#1. i am 30.#2. i had casually dated about 4 people over 18 months.#3. i do believe he was just mad that i get more girls than he ever did#i had to look this 60 yr old deacon in the eye and say. okay so i have a girlfriend first of all im just not tellin yall about her#and secondly.#OKAY???? OLD MAN I DONT EVEN LIVE HERE WHAT ARE U GONNA DO ABOUT IT#briefly considered asking nat if i could pretend we were a one night stand kind of a thing
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
Zombie! Ghost NSFW Headcanons
Warnings: 18+, Zombie Fucking, Monster Fucking, Zombie! Ghost, Human! Reader, Zombie Anatomy, Cockwarming, Unprotected Sex, Stagnant Semen, Stomach Bulge, Stomach Swelling, Mention of Breeding, Engorged Penis, Brief Worry of Infection, Mentions of Blood, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.
Zombie!Ghost who’s been travelling with you for the last couple of months or so.
Zombie! Ghost who wasn’t like all the other infected — he retained most of his autonomy with only his body succumbing to the disease, blood smattered down his tactical gear, eyes milky.
Zombie!Ghost who, though he can’t speak, can still communicate via growls, gurgles and groans, as well as body language, albeit in a stiff manner.
Zombie!Ghost who, despite existing in a decaying body, has retained most of his human, primal urges. Even had some of them enhanced.
Zombie!Ghost who, though you might not know it, rocks himself into his hand when the night is quiet, your name and face on his mind amidst the buzz of the virus telling him to act on his base instincts to eat, feed and breed.
Zombie!Ghost who sees that, much to his lethargic delight, this was the case for you, too.
On many a night had he caught you with something hard between your legs, trying desperately to alleviate the the knots below your stomach.
Zombie!Ghost who, one night, after a long day of running from the undead and hiding in an enclosed space with you, chest to chest as you both waited for the horde to pass, found that palming himself did nothing to rid him of the aching feeling between his legs.
Zombie!Ghost who can sense that you’re the same: all that excess adrenaline and pent-up sexual frustration permeated the air with scent only a creature like Ghost could smell. A scent which he followed to the door of your room.
He knocked. Once. Heard you shuffling, scurrying, before clearing your throat, telling him to “Come in,”
Zombie! Ghost who can see your hasty attempt to cover yourself, your pants pulled up with such speed that you’d neglected to zip them back up, the hem of your underwear showing between the open space.
Zombie!Ghost who sees your eyes flicker to his trousers, widen slightly, before returning to his eyes.
Zombie!Ghost who wastes no time, kicking the door shut behind him and taking heavy, deliberate steps towards you.
Zombie! Ghost whose hand slithers down his front to the bulge between his legs, never taking his eyes off yours as he squeezes it, letting out a guttural groan.
Zombie! Ghost who knows you’re intelligent enough to pick up what he’s putting down. Even if you are stunned into momentary silence.
Zombie! Ghost who feels something in him grow warm when you look up at him with wide eyes, asking him, tentatively: “But…won’t I get infected?”
Zombie! Ghost who shakes his head, for he can do little more to put your mind at ease save for leaving and never proposing such a thing again.
Zombie! Ghost who sees you mulling it over in your mind, though he can tell by the rampant heat coming from between your thighs, the tantalising scent of your hormones thickening in the air, that your mind is already made up.
Zombie! Ghost who approaches with a rabid look in his eyes, coming to stand right where you need him.
Zombie! Ghost who has to bite back a growl when he feels your fingers brush him through his clothes, taking the zipper of his pants between your fingers and pulling it down.
Zombie! Ghost who, after having himself freed of his tactical gear, lies back on the bed, watching your mouth drop open as you see his swollen, drooling, stiffened cock for the first time, blackened veins running up the shaft. Pulsating. Something viscous and almost white oozes from the tip.
Zombie! Ghost who has to resist the urge to buck his hips when you come to straddle him, your pants and underwear abandoned somewhere on the mattress.
Zombie! Ghost who shudders when his tip meets your heat, the first semblance of warmth he’s felt since his un-death.
Zombie! Ghost who, even with his vocal cords having thoroughly decayed, lets out a carnal growl as you take him, sinking down onto his tip and wincing at the coldness — the size — of him.
Zombie! Ghost who can only wait for you to adjust to his girth and his lack of temperature as you sink further, a bulge in your stomach forming.
Zombie! Ghost who can feel you squeezing around him, already coaxing him to forfeit his restraint and pump you full of the stagnant semen all but bursting from his engorged ballsack. The consequence of not having an outlet for weeks.
Zombie! Ghost who gasps, back arching against the mattress, his gloved bands coming to grip your waist while he grinds up into you, desperate to feel more of your warmth.
Zombie! Ghost who can barely hold it together (literally) as you rock yourself on his cock, whimpering and gasping as he fills every ounce of space your body can give him.
Zombie! Ghost who can see that this is the turning point for your relationship — that the two of you have entered something you wouldn’t be able to explain to others even if you wanted to. If there was anyone left to explain it to.
Zombie! Ghost who, the longer and harder you rock against him, lifting yourself and dropping again back onto him, feels himself start to come undone, starts to feel the all-too human tremours and electricity — the tell-tale signs of a release.
Zombie! Ghost who, when he sees you try to pull away, try to stop him from splattering your insides with his seed, tightens his grip on your waist, keeping you flush against him.
Zombie! Ghost who, despite his lethargy, bucks up into you. Despite your protests, your begging for him to “Pull out — please!” knows it’s far too late as his eyes squeeze shut and his body spasms.
You’re filled with a wet coldness that can’t possibly be mistaken for anything else. And what’s more, there’s tons of it. You’re sure the sheer amount of semen Ghost is pumping you full of is going to leave your stomach swollen for days to come.
Zombie! Ghost who bounces you on his dick until he feels you cum, hears you cry out, sees you go limp, his hands keeping you upright.
Zombie! Ghost who, in the panting, sweating, sweltering aftermath, lays you beside him, his cock still deep inside you, a parasite in its own right as it sought and fed from your warmth.
Zombie! Ghost who brings an arm around you, pulling your back to his front, his face in your hair.
Zombie! Ghost who, tiring now, wonders if you’d have been together like this when he was a human, when he was alive.
Zombie! Ghost who wonders how he’s managed to live without you in the first place. Who knows now he’ll do anything to make sure that never happens.
Zombie! Ghost who can feel that you’ve fallen into a deep slumber, your breathing steady.
Zombie! Ghost who wonders how much of his strength, his load, you can take — where and when you’ll get yourself off on him next.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist
Masterlist [Continued]
Masterpost
Modern Warfare AI Masterlist
AO3
Wattpad
#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley smut#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley smut#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost x reader#ghost x reader#cod ghost x reader#ghost smut#mw2#ghost mw2#mw2 ghost#cod mw2 ghost#mw2 ghost x reader#cod mw2#zombie ghost#ghost cod
8K notes
·
View notes
Text
Yo Goyim! Looks like I'm going to need to give some of you a crash course on what antisemitic language looks like, because I've been seeing entirely too much of it from some of you here on Tumblr.
Now, I think it's time for a Jewish history lesson, because I've been seeing way too many Nazi-related conspiracy theories going around. If you hear contradictions to the basic information that I am about to share (i.e., if you hear someone saying that the Jewish people are "a race that originated in Europe"), it is likely that you are hearing a white supremacist, anti-Jewish conspiracy theory.
So, here's the basics of Jewish history. Jews are indigenous to the Levant have been there for thousands of years. The Levantine people that Jews descended from have been in that area of the Levant since the Bronze Age. Jews as a distinct people have been there since the Late Bronze Age. Before it was Palestine it was the Kingdom of Judah, then Judea, and then Judaea, and that is literally where we are from. The word Jew means "a person from the Kingdom of Judah." The Romans renamed the area Syria-Palaestina (which they borrowed from the Greek name Palestina) in the 2nd century CE after destroying the Second Temple in Jerusalem and leading another campaign to try to eradicate the Jewish people (guess what, we're still here, motherfuckers).
And even after the Romans tried to annihilate us, even after they scattered many of us into European diaspora, many Jews came back, again and again over the ages, and there have nearly always been Jewish communities in the region throughout history.
And if you come for me or try to dispute any of this history with white supremacist bullshit, I am a Jew who has studied way more Jewish history than you. And as politely as possible, you can take your white supremacist conspiracy theories and fuck off into the sun.
Okay, with all that out of the way, let's get into it!
Gloves are coming off, because this is just a sampling of the Nazi dogwhistles I've been seeing here on Tumblr about the Jewish civilians who were tortured, murdered, and worse:
- If you say shit like, "The Jews got what they deserved"...
GUESS WHAT? You're talking like a white supremacist, and you need to fucking check yourself.
- And if, on the other hand, you say shit like, "The reports were probably overblown. I think those were paid actors. I don't think those Jews were murdered. No Jewish children were killed. No Jewish bodies were desecrated" blahblahblah...
GUESS WHAT? You get to sit with the Nazis at their table for lunch.
- If you tell Jews "go back to Europe where you came from"...
GUESS WHAT? Not only are you telling the descendants of Jewish refugees to go back to the Spanish Inquisition, the Russian pogroms, and the Nazi gas chambers, as I explained in this post, but you are also repeating a white supremacist conspiracy theory about the origins of European Jews.
Jews are a Levantine people from the area of the Middle East currently called Israel (formerly called the Kingdom of Judah, and then Judea). While there was some emigration to Europe during the late Roman Republic and the early days of the Roman Empire, the first mass migration of Jews to Europe was a forced migration. Gentiles from the Roman Empire dragged us there as captives after 70 CE, the year Rome destroyed the Second Temple.
- And if you're telling yourself that there are "good Jews" and "bad Jews," and those Jewish civilians were "bad Jews," so they deserved to be tortured and killed...
GUESS WHAT? You're spouting white supremacist ideology.
Antisemitism takes a long time to deprogram.
A lot of gentiles grow up with anti-Jewish ideology that they have never questioned.
And a lot of Christians are kept ignorant about Jewish history because preachers and priests fear it would make Christians question the many inaccuracies in the Bible.
But the first step in noticing antisemitic beliefs is to notice when you start singling people out *because* they are Jewish.
And I have been seeing some of you gleefully celebrating the murder of Jewish civilians *because* they are Jewish.
And that is antisemitism.
That is one step closer to the next generation of Jews getting shoved into the gas chambers. And there are only 16 million of us left in the entire world. We're 0.2% of the world's population. And we cannot afford another Holocaust.
And if your response to me saying that is, "Well, those Jews deserve it."
Guess what. You are making it easier for Nazis and white supremacists to spread hatred and commit acts of violence against Jewish people. And you will have to live with that blood on your conscience.
So...
If you are a gentile, and you see other gentiles repeating these kinds of white supremacist dogwhistles about Jewish people, here's how you can help:
1. MOST IMPORTANTLY: Help them direct their focus away from attacking random Jewish people online and towards helping Palestinians.
Actions that people can take right now are contributing to verified charities and relief organizations that help the people of Gaza. Only donate to organizations that are verified by CharityNavigator.org and CharityWatch.org.
2. Call that shit out. Tell people that they're being antisemitic, and explain that Jew-hatred is dangerous to Jewish people. Antisemitism gets Jews attacked and it gets Jews killed. In the US, many synagogues require round the clock security to protect against white supremacists who want to murder Jews. In Pittsburgh, my old home town, a group of Nazis from north of the city planned the murder of Jewish congregants at Tree of Life Synagogue, and so far only one of them (the gunman) has been arrested and convicted of the murders. The others are still at large.
3. Explain to them that it is antisemitic to celebrate someone's death *because* they're Jewish. ALSO, it is antisemitic to blame a random Jewish person for the actions of ANY government, whether that be the Israeli Government or the US Government.
4. Explain to people that they're not going to solve this conflict by posting antisemitic statements and memes online. All they will do is alienate the Jewish people in their lives and make those Jews feel scared and unsafe. And they will contribute to this current wave of antisemitism.
Antisemitic hatred doesn't help Palestinians. All it does is put Jewish people around the world in danger.
#tl;dr if you celebrate the murder of jews *because* they are jews you are an antisemite - end of story#just fyi - i will be monitoring the comments so if anyone posts anything antisemitic i will delete your comment and block you#antisemitism tw#jumblr
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
PARITY
male reader x sana & miyeon
21k words
Within some reasonable tolerance, the two are carbon copies. Six of one, half a dozen of the other.
Doppelganger, twin, deadringer - they always tell you, they don’t see it.
But when they stand together it always comes across like two shadows stitched into one silhouette; the slope of their noses, their mouths; the way their hair cascades down past their shoulders.
You’ve learned to recognize the twitch at the corner of their lips before a laugh - how they speak in the same inflection and pitch and tempo, the same cadence coloring all their syllables. Even in their figures there is something uncannily familiar: that petite stature, that grace; they both have perfect posture, an ingrained elegance, like something handed down generation to generation. And of course - the height. The hair. The eyes. The same-damned-smirk.
Here's a hypothetical: if Sana's DNA, then Miyeon's RNA. They're both two separate ways of reading the same thing, and they both have it in them to transcribe the same hot load of proteins over all their pretty faces.
"Oh, that's like a sex joke," Miyeon says to Sana, frowning slightly, "right?"
"I don't know." Sana hums. "Protein... like sperm?"
You sigh, rub your thumb at your temple. This is why, normally, you wouldn't take ditzy to bed, but there's all this history between you and Sana that proves otherwise. The dirty truth is: you’ve been taking ditzy to bed for years. And Miyeon’s right there. She’s all bright eyes, blonde hair, tiny little waist, the perfect height to get two fingers in her cunt and the rest of her in your lap without you even needing to shift your arm into something more uncomfortable. God forbid.
She pulls back the curtain of silk-glossed-hair spilling over her cheek and tucks it neatly behind her ear. Okay, fine. So maybe you really do have a type.
"Yeah," Miyeon decides. "I think that's a good pun. Cute."
She glances sideways at Sana; something flashes between them, imperceptible. They've been doing this sorta thing for a long time - long before they ended up in their current living arrangement. This machine of synchronized, unvoiced communication.
"Cute," echoes Sana, delighted, and she lets her eyes flick back to yours. "Baby, are you, like, gonna give us lots of protein?"
"First of all, we’re fast approaching the point of diminishing returns on the whole protein spermaestria," you muse, wryly. Sana beams. "And again, the point I’m trying to make, Sana: you two are identical."
"Not in spirit," says Miyeon, automatically. "Or intellect. Or appearance, either."
"You can't just claim that," says Sana, matter of fact. "He means physically. I have bigger tits and a better ass.”
There's no argument from your end. And not only because the cab driver hits a speed bump or a pothole or perhaps a small child way too quickly that sends you all lurching together into the seatbelts.
Miyeon finds a good hold in the handle over the door - it saves her - and you wind up steadying Sana. For a split second, it's both their shoulders leaning on yours: Sana, then Miyeon, then Sana. Back and forth. Back and forth. The three of you still end up sprawled halfway out of the seats and onto each other in the cramped cab, tangled all together.
"Please, explain it then," implores Sana, hushed slightly. "Go ahead, I'm sure Miyeon's dying to hear it."
"Look, it's not a perfect one to one mapping," you say, running your hand through your hair and putting on your patient professor-in-front-of-the-class face. "For example: Miyeon's cuter-"
"Thank you," chirps Miyeon, sweetly sardonic, before you can even append anything else to the statement. Sana’s already there with a noise of mild protest.
"I mean, I'm a full inch and a half taller than you."
"So?"
"That’s an unfair advantage. You've gotta be the dumbest person I know."
"Funny," chides Miyeon, swiveling her gaze onto Sana. "You could barely talk when we were fucking your brains out on your birthday. He's dating you, not me, remember? If anything, you're the one sporting an unfair advantage."
"Okay, well," Sana counters, reasonably, "when you can barely get a sentence out from choking on my boyfriend's cock, who the hell is supposed to call it?"
You ignore that. Miyeon is having more difficulty; her face has flushed cherry red and her hand's white-knuckle-gripping the side of the cab's passenger door.
"For what it’s worth," you cut in, placidly, "I don’t think there’s any clear answer."
"Nonsense," they both reply, simultaneously and satisfied - like wind up toys. And that's the way the conversation tends to go when you get them alone like this. Identical, you pause to think again after spilling out from the back of the car and onto the curb outside the girls’ apartment.
All the things they say are word-for-word - they walk the same, eat the same, smile the same, tilt their heads the same. In those moments where you don't speak, it feels like watching some two-headed monster, an entity constructed from equal parts of both. And it isn't just the physicality at play. They've got that eerie ability to read each other, speak for each other. It's strange: their habits, the way their eyebrows arch, the set of their shoulders. It all syncs right up, matches seamlessly.
It's really fucking uncanny.
"Um." Sana twists one slim wrist back and forth until the key turns in the lock. "So, is it, like, wrong of me that I kinda just wanna skip the dinner part of this and watch my roommate get wrecked in the middle of our living room?"
"Depends," you answer, before you can let yourself dwell too much.
“Just a complete and utter carpet dive,” Sana says, shouldering the door open and flipping on the lights. “It’d serve her right. She’s being annoying.”
Miyeon scoffs, sticks out a bare, pale leg - it ends in a nail polished fire engine red, the strap of a stiletto sandal - and blocks your way inside. "Hey," she protests, lightly. You are not the only object in the equation - you are merely an item to be held against them; it's not about you, not in its most abstract shape. Miyeon and Sana are competing - vaguely for your affection, but more so just for affection in general. It's an ego thing, if nothing else.
"I'm an angel. I'm precious."
"Get your pretty feet out of his face," warns Sana.
"Ugh," says Miyeon. And then, "so short-tempered when you're not getting away with everything."
"Whatever, princess." Sana gestures, airy and flippant. "In any case: fuck off, or go get fucked."
This has become some kind of weird custom, admittedly. Miyeon does exactly as her best friend requests. She floats down the hallway and toward her room.
"Can't get good service around here anymore anyway," is what she tosses over her shoulder. Her fingers run up the door frame to her room and hang there, briefly, before she glances sideways back. You and Sana, now giving her your deservedly undivided attention. There is no split focus, no point of overlap. Her hair falls loose past her shoulders; her shirt clings a little to the muscles of her arms, her ribs. The point of contact between her skirt and her upper thighs. Those impossibly big eyes. She's gorgeous. You rarely ever let yourself forget that. There's something devastating about the set of her face, about how her body is absolutely fucking perfect, all curving lines and smooth planes - tits that fit right in your palm, the dip of her stomach, the pretty shape of her ass - she’s tiny, and in a way, that means you can do anything to her and manage to get away with it. She’ll let you. She’ll ask you to do it all again.
"You two are more than welcome to follow along, if you feel so inclined,” Miyeon adds before she opens the door to her room, steps through, and lets it shut behind her.
"Yeah." Sana runs her tongue over her top lip, staring you straight in the eye. Her smile is slightly predatory, all sharp teeth. "If you’re so inclined."
-
(For anyone wondering about things like premise or backstory, here’s a useful memory:
Sana has a new roommate. They've been living together for two, three months. She's still not over the fact you didn’t ask her to move in, and you're still not ready for it. Your answer hasn’t changed. You like your apartment the way it is; the two of you need space; it's what the kids call cohabital parity and no, the ring's not in your wallet and it's not even bought yet; stop nagging me. It'll happen when it happens.
Anyway,
It's one of those plainly beautiful evenings in early July or August - a weekend probably: the living room is bathed in the sort of low, radiant sunset that can go on forever, all of summer stretched out, leisure and sunshine. Sana had talked her way into getting you to take her somewhere highbrow and a little out of your budget. She can talk her way into just about anything; that's her brand, her bad habit, her good fortune.
"We're not going to be able to get our tickets," you're explaining into the loud blare of a hair dryer. And to paraphrase, "what the fuck is the point of making reservations if we’re going to be so reprehensively late?"
Sana's juggling the curling iron while fumbling with an eyelash curler and applying mascara and rearranging earrings all at the same time, and you think about reminding her, again, that it doesn't matter what she looks like if you never actually, you know, leave - but then the hair dryer switches off.
“Hey.” Sana ignores the concern and swivels to ask which earrings match which necklace - two pairs are laid across the countertop; they look exactly the same; you love her, desperately, but for the record, you've never been any good at telling jewelry apart. Neither the knowledge-set nor the motivation; she looks fucking gorgeous in everything regardless-
The front door clicks then, and Miyeon bursts through with the force of an entire hurricane - and promptly stops, dead. You forget what the hell she said, but the story was: she'd just gotten back from the worst date in her life. She's in tears, sobbing. It's a mess. She's a mess. You can't leave.
She falls right into Sana's arms. Then Sana throws a pointed, triumphant grin your way, and says to Miyeon - and you remember this, word for word, verbatim - "Aw, baby. Don't worry. Let us take care of you. We'll make you forget all about him, okay?"
This is the long and short of it: Miyeon arrives, in tears. You never make it to dinner and a show. And the night ends more or less how it started - with Miyeon still pretty much crying, but only because you two won't stop. With your fingers, your mouths. Sana knows what her tongue's doing; Miyeon is loud - and responsive. She's gorgeous too. She's so into it. She needs someone who is genuinely in love with her, who isn't going to try and push her around. You slip your cock into her and that's pretty much it, a different kind of curtain call; Miyeon gets Sana's thumb rolling at her clit and, yeah - she's fucking gone. She cums on your cock like she’s dying, like you’re killing her. It's as simple as that.
Now, there are several instances of which this is the case, in chronological order:
a.) The first time, in Sana's bed.
b.) The second time is in the back of Miyeon's hatchback. Tight fit for three people. It's a do-not-recommend.
c.) The third time, when they want to try blindfolding Miyeon while she rides your cock in the living room. The girl can't see shit, you break some IKEA furniture you can’t pronounce the name of, and the condom comes off during the whole process. There’s this unsettling, world-rocking possibility in which you get Miyeon fucking legitimately pregnant via oopsie-daisy. So, you and Sana wind up spooned up with Miyeon between you two and discuss the eventuality, should it arise - what you will all do in the future, the consequences, what Miyeon and Sana will say to Miyeon's and Sana's families - what the fuck you'll tell the rest of your friends, let alone the press - and then, deciding together: hey, well maybe this is actually a really bad idea.
d.) The fourth, fifth, sixth and every time after that where you realize that you're just gonna roll it all back and pretend like this is completely normal. Two's company, three's kind of a fever dream - but this is the platonic ideal of groupthink. It works. It just does; you know how to fit the pieces together now. How to read her body language: the one-two-one rhythm, Sana and Miyeon and then Miyeon-and-Sana; where their hands are, where they're moving; Miyeon's choked little sobs and the breathless gasps when your cock is deep inside her; all the unintelligible murmurs passing between the two of them that you can't understand - but none of them ever really matter. The important thing is that she's put her two front teeth in your left collarbone while you fuck into her slow and deliberate, in a way she can really feel. You cover Sana's mouth with your palm, your fingers pressed against the pulsing heat in her pussy, and you make them both cum over and over until they’re eyes are screwed shut and they’re counting stars.
That's about it. That's all the things.)
-
"I call it being spoiled for choice," Sana says, pausing only momentarily to decide in the mirror of Miyeon's makeup vanity whether or not to take off the bracelet on her wrist.
The glint that strikes off the metal is gold in the bedroom lights, all warm yellow and sparkling silver. Sana narrows her fingers, pulls it off, on - like you've caught her trying on clothes, the latest fashion in a store front window. A stylistic consideration. It matches the rings on her third and fourth fingers. She decides that it suits her.
"Lo and behold," Sana continues, "we have a real situation on our hands. In your hands. Whatever, you get my drift."
"Your cock," adds Miyeon, smiling like sunshine. She’s tracing you over your pants with her thumb, and she’s got her doe-eyed grin on, the one that promises something sugar-sweet, kneeling between your thighs at the edge of her bed - the slightest dishevel of her hair, kiss-swollen lips. God, what a picture. Her pupils flare when her fingers reach the top button of your pants. "And what's worse? I'm going to die if I can't have at least, you know. A couple minutes alone with it."
"You'd figure out a way to die either way," Sana muses. She leans backwards in Miyeon's desk chair, tugging idly at the hem of her skirt.
They're not usually dressed alike, and that's the weirdest part - Sana's never had Miyeon's particular taste for the tiny gauche dresses and white converse shoes and glossy nails, not unless it’s some matching outfit that she's being bullied into. Today's no different: the soft fabric of Miyeon's slip of dress barely stretches down to the line of her thigh. The hem starts just below the boundary of innocuous and everything else. She’d been hiking it up all evening. And the straps lay so thin across her shoulders that one little tug in the wrong spot would probably send it skidding all the way down to the floor.
That's the main thing on your mind when you get one in between your fingers.
Miyeon simply shoulders the other, rolling it down to hang loose, leaving the dress hanging off the gentle slope of her chest.
"Pretty," you say out loud.
"I know," she says, holding the grin.
She can make the world smile, it's infectious - and your gaze follows the path: from the blonde-shiny hair spilling over a collarbone, to the peeking line of her bra, to the flutter of the bottom of her dress at her hip. You catch the subtle lace trim, the little patterns embroidered into the waist, and decide her body's a gift - and wrapping it is something divine, something meant to be ripped right to shreds. If no one else is willing to volunteer, then it'll fall on you. Sure, sure, sure. You can be thanked later.
"Lose it," you request, quietly.
"Mr. Impatient," is what Sana sniffs out, scoffing. She's lounged back on the other side of Miyeon's makeup counter. Her heel taps away at empty air, bouncing off the end of her foot, that hot little fucking rhythm she's had going since her partner in crime got in your lap and kissed you right down into oblivion. "You want to get her naked and get inside of her, huh?"
"Is that not why you dragged me here?" you counter.
"Oh, don't put this on me." Her expression slides right into the mischievous smirk you're familiar with. Miyeon’s often sporting the same one.
"He wants to bend you over, princess," she tells Miyeon, and you hear the wistful sigh through her parted lips come out like permission. "Not that I can say I'd blame him. When's the last time you've taken cock again?"
"With him last week." She throws the response to Sana. They look, more than anyone, to be in sync in their one-upmanship.
"Hmm," says Sana, and she’s looking right at you. "Check how tight that dress fits over her hips, don't you just want to tear it right off of her?"
"He's not doing that," says Miyeon, but there's the lilting tease in her voice that signals precisely the opposite. She wants it: wants it like sugar and soda, salt water taffy; wants to be stripped like skin, bared to the bone. Her knees spread, just a little. "Not yet, anyway. Right now," she adds, hand fluttering towards the inside of her thigh, supplying touches right over the lace, "I want to suck his cock."
"Such a slut," Sana teases, tilting her head.
"You'll get yours," Miyeon insists, before pulling your cock out of your boxers with a small smile, curling her fingers around it, leaning forward. "God, this thing." She has the head under the palm of her other hand, and a wet-tipped promise on her lower lip.
You thread your hand into the hair aside Miyeon's temple, gentle and what will seem in a moment: paradoxically-tender.
"Imagine what it'll do to your mascara when I fuck your mouth."
Miyeon licks her lips. You reckon she’s completely aware how it comes across - the wicked fantasy she is.
"I'm imagining what it'll do to you when she chokes," Sana retorts.
“When he fills up my throat,” Miyeon says, hungry.
Sana sighs, sounding utterly wistful, and she fixes the same unrepentant look on you. "Poor Miyeon is just starved for cum tonight. Aww," she remarks, sweetly, "The poor thing. Do me a favor won't you? Fuck my pretty little friend in the face."
"Well," is all you get out before you look up at Sana. "Yours too, honey."
"Hardly, the same," Miyeon cuts in primly, glancing sideways at Sana. There is some snobbishness implied; there are ways Sana and Miyeon have always found to subtly measure themselves against one another, to best each other - all of these ridiculous acts and anecdotes. Like their voices aren’t replicas of one another - and in constant disagreement over whoever is currently claiming to be the original.
Miyeon prissily tilts her jaw up. "Your ego might actually be the worst part about you, Sana. That and your tits."
"Guess he just loves all the worst parts," Sana quips, rolling her eyes, "and every time you call it into question I fall in love with him a little more."
She's got one foot up now on the seat of the chair and she's running her fingers, delicate and teasing, around the press of her panties. It's not a voyeuristic thing, she's told you, it's less about watching Miyeon get fucked than it is about knowing exactly what it looks like when she herself gets spread out beneath you. She watches you and Miyeon, she watches her best friend and you, and she touches herself and it's perfect. There's a few seconds, long and warm, before she lifts her fingers away, then sucks them into her mouth with a grin. Just the slightest taste.
"But seriously," she says to Miyeon. "If you're gonna do something - then do it. Don't be a tease. We both know the answer, anyway."
Miyeon swallows. You hear her. You watch her lips wrap around the head of your cock and pop off, wet and shining, and her head rests in the curve of your palm.
"I’m working on it," Miyeon allows, lowly - she pumps her fist again around you, careful with the motion; this little twisting tug. "Fuck, it's not even the fact that it's fucking huge, or. Like, it’s not because I’m dying to get stuffed by this, or because I’m sitting here thinking: oh my fuck, I’m gonna feel so full with this thing inside me."
You have her hand under her chin, thumb stroking gently against her cheek. Her eyes return to yours when you put a little more pressure in your grip. She’s fantastically pretty, and the gleam of lust and want in her irises has you probably too eager to play along.
“So then, what could it possibly be?”
"It's-" Her cheeks darken pink beneath her blush, stumbling through a mouthful of ums and uhs as her eyes make tiny departures back to your waist until she finally gives up and just stares again.
Sana sits up a little in her chair.
"Look, this is the prettiest cock I've ever seen.”
You and Sana almost snort in unison.
“I’m serious.” Miyeon rubs a semi-circle over the head with her thumb, glancing up at you beneath her mascara, and then to the base, back up. It jerks, almost like reflex, in her grasp; she huffs in delight. "It’s, like, perfect in every way. And, god, everytime- I’d just about do anything to feel it inside me."
“You’d beg?” Sana asks, eyebrow raised.
“I’m about to get down on my knees and grovel, honey.”
"Should've just said," Sana laughs - Miyeon chews her lip, half-exasperated, and drops a kiss to the tip that makes Sana's expression simper - "you’re halfway there. Want him to cum in that sweet mouth?"
"Want him to tell me what he's going to do," says Miyeon, frilly. "Every last detail."
Lips stretching open, fingers splaying, curling around the weight - she dips her head to rest her cheek on your thigh and kisses the underside of your shaft. She’s practically like liquid. Flowing and easy and gorgeous, always gorgeous, too far gone to form a full thought. That much is obvious. And why shouldn't it be - your hand's already snagged up, your thumb's already wiping the hair out of her eyes. She turns to let it sit against the edge of her cheekbone. "You really need an incentive? Want you to fill me up so I can-"
"Swallow," you supply, simply. “Swallow everything.”
"Yeah," Miyeon presses into the curve of your cock. She doesn't wink, not really; she doesn’t need to. "I like you. You always know exactly what to say."
Her hair brushes a feather-light caress up the skin of your thigh, mouth a vision of sin and pretty red lipstick. "Open," you command, quietly, and she follows your orders exactly - mouth dropping, head tilting, eyes drifting closed - her lips glisten with saliva and you could shove your cock into that mouth, easy. Just push in and wreck the inside of her - spit on her chin, feel her throat clench up as she gags and struggles around your cock. God, if that isn't a thought that can do a number on the base of your spine.
"Easy," Sana supplies, like she can read your mind. That wouldn’t really surprise you. “Leave some of her make-up for me.”
There's the quick hiss of an inhale, Miyeon's mouth stretching open. Her jaw going slack. You feel the long, wet suck of skin and spit, and her eyelids flutter as she settles in. She slides her tongue and adjusts, makes soft, raspy, throaty noises while her lips slide down the first few inches of your cock. It’s funny - Sana had made the same sound earlier in the day - and it's really not like it's an awful comparison. They both let on gorgeous little noises when they're sucking cock and it makes sense because it's the same cock. Same skin. Same person.
You're not, however, about to do something so pedestrian as compare notes. Not on them. Not in the fucking slightest.
And Sana, god - Sana doesn't just watch. She knows better. She's not even the one taking your cock in her mouth but there's the insistent presence of her: a fingertip diving down past the crotch of her skirt, a quiet moan, her wrist jolting in a repetition of short, sharp strokes, the kind she likes to use on herself: precise. Deliberate.
"Miyeon," you whisper. "God, just - it's your fucking mouth, you-"
The hand on her face strokes the side of her head - a push-pull. A chance to break off - she doesn't - so she ends up with a rougher grip tangling through her hair and you guiding her head further down the length of your shaft.
Miyeon loves the pressure on her throat. You know that. And, yeah, she fucking hates choking on it but somehow in her mind, they're different. Opposites. Because with the way she's going, a little cough will burst free in a few seconds time. That’s your signal, you’ve learned, that she'll let you slide yourself to the hilt. Just keep the wet tip lodged there until she starts gasping around it. It'd only take a minute.
Two tops.
And well, that's the compromise: your patience for a throat fuck is infinite. She's staring up at you with upturned brows and that pretty-please pout on her slick-wet lips. She's making her best effort but, christ. Fuck.
Her eyelids flicker once.
Then close.
"There," you breathe down to her, your knuckles finding her cheek, smoothing over the sharp curve of bone there. Your cock is slotted right in her hot little mouth and you're starting to feel like maybe you really did hang the moon and stars in the sky after all. Her lips press around you. Sink, up, down. "Such a good girl, sucking my cock, looking up at me- god, all dolled up, it's not even fair, Miyeon."
Miyeon can be many things, and presently among them: a filthy, obedient angel.
She pulls up. "I try," Miyeon breathes right at the tip. Her tongue darts out. She swirls, and swirls, until it’s back under the tip of your cock again, soft.
You're too predictable, or you're too forthcoming, or here’s the thing about a woman's intuition; Miyeon wants to tell you something more, she wants to let you know how fucking unbelievably hard you are in her hands right now; she wants to laugh at you for getting caught up and dumb but she's not letting your cock slide free. This suckle of her lips, right at the crest where you're most sensitive and leaking precum right into her mouth - this press and pull is as close to conversation as she can get. So what. You love it. She loves it: the reward is in the ricochet. You look at her and her cheeks hollow and the flash of her pink tongue gets wet and warm under your head, the slit of her mouth stretching to take every ‘totally fucking perfect’ inch of your cock.
And then her lips tighten and she just-
"Christ, Miyeon-" You whimper it right down to her, your voice lost in the shiver of her throat, all tight and wet around your cock. It's like your vocal cords have been stolen right along with the air in your lungs and everything feels floaty, warped and red and blanketing you with Miyeon's hard-worked rhythm:
The scissoring flick of her tongue as she strokes the base with a firm fist. The other hand resting on your hip, feeling your hips jerk. She wants this, the part where you let go and stop thinking. The part where she opens her throat, lets her saliva flood to pool against her palm, and wet the tip of your cockhead before letting it slide right back in her throat. Your shaft flexing into her heat, the sound of those gags.
She just-
She just goes on like that, sucking your cock while the flat of her palm skates a little tighter. Up, up, down - up-
"Miyeon," Sana says, now on her feet and shadowing in closer, leaning. And that's it. Sana knows too. She kneels down next to her, gets a finger under her chin, and delivers in a uniquely cold tone: "hands behind your back, sweetheart. I want him to cum in your gorgeous little mouth."
You nearly choke, ironically. You're already grabbing so much of her hair: all those smooth silky strands threaded through your fingers.
You thrust and pull. She gags. She fucking chokes.
Spit collects, rolls down the corners of her mouth and gathers on her chin. You can see the mascara threaten to run tracks along her pretty cheeks, the way the makeup smudges so dangerously close to her bottom lid. "Yeah?" you say, so softly, but you can't - can't seem to look anywhere else, or take anything back - so, what, her jaw's just gonna go on being that perfect little shape, and she's gonna be a brat for it. Okay. That works. She looks good choking. You can see the slick glint of her pink mouth stretching taut on your cock, your cock jerking and bobbing on the pad of her tongue; it's not real - no, this is completely real. The ball of your foot slips along the floor.
It's instinct. You can't help yourself; a groan spills out of you, half-sighed
Sana's whispering right in her ear; not that you can make anything out of it over the noises from her mouth, her fist all wet, pumping. The tick-tock bob of her hair. Sana's hand is on the back of her head and then - pushing the last inch down, and down, her nose buries right into your skin.
“Mnnph.” Miyeon, gurgling: your cock pressed all the way down the line.
"Fuck," you spit, holding her jaw in place. "Fuck, Miyeon-"
She looks up at you, her eyebrows cinched, the graceful lines in her picture-perfect-face pulling around you - blissed out. She stutters in place while you dump a hot load of cum into her mouth.
And she adds a cough as you pump everything directly onto her fucking tongue. It’s more than she anticipated, judging by the leak. How your cum rolls down from the corner of her mouth.
Sana drops a kiss onto her temple as she takes you in and out of her mouth again, until she presses her lips firm and hollows her cheeks. Miyeon's fingers caress your balls like there's some part of you that isn't giving her fucking everything already.
"Come on, princess," says Sana, kissing her way along Miyeon's neck, the tops of her shoulders. There is not an angle to Miyeon's elegant features that she could take that could possibly be anything short of priceless. "Show him how you swallow."
The image is obscene, for one thing. The utter filth in that satiated hum; there’s another.
It's your white-hot cum dribbling past her swollen, fucked mouth. Miyeon swallows like the good girl she is - takes a breath, stares, and then finishes, a gulp, an extra breath, her whole face now a shade more flushed. Sana kisses her on the cheek and suddenly it's perfect: they're both staring right at you. Your throat has to unclench, reboot and the air in the room just tastes so good and your chest is heaving; you just- fuck, you can't breathe-
"Shit," you exhale. It comes out like a small explosion. "Uh-"
The side of Sana's mouth slants and then Miyeon grins: it's her cheek, dimple; that crescent moon thing and oh, this is the point. Sana slides a hand over the gentle curve of her stomach, then sets her open mouth over Miyeon's still-lips, slipping in close and - kissing. Their mouths melt together like it's the most practiced thing, tongues a second later, and Sana is stroking your cock in her fingers; the expectations clear in every little coaxing flick of her slim wrist.
"Do you have any idea," Sana sighs against her lips. The two of them, blinking up at you, like good little things - sweet enough. "How fucking wet you both have me?"
And Miyeon, shameless as she is disastrously pretty, reads right between the lines. "Where do you want it?" Her mouth tilts up to the side. A wicked smile. "He can cum all over us, no? And I have this skirt with an awfully short, pretty lace. We don't even have to take our clothes off, really, I can just-"
Sana gets an eyeful - Miyeon - before cutting her off, silencing with the wet press of her mouth, and suddenly their kiss goes frantic and quick. They're rolling apart: hands tearing up their clothes. Off. Off. Off.
Your cock stirs. It throbs. Fuck. Sana’s barely intelligible in the space between their tongues. "I could lay flat,” she’s saying, “with my legs open, and-"
"-with him on top of you, pressing inside you - so he could hold me down, and then pull all the way back out, to leave a thick load on your clit-"
"-and when he has to pull out-"
"-probably cum all over you too, the best view-"
"-or all over the rest of me, while I touch myself-"
"-maybe-"
"-and you just have to imagine how good that'll feel, while my thighs shake and we ride it out, you and I-"
Their faces - both flushed and dampened with the strain, both breathtaking. Their eyes are hooded, lashes a-flutter. They'd made their own decision, didn't even bother with yours. A mutual vote of two-to-one: you're going to fuck them in turns. You’re going to fuck them together. You're going to edge yourself in one cunt and fill the other. They're both going to take it, and wear it, and then use each other to make you cum again. Good. Okay, any questions - and they want it rough?
The answer’s a two-part chorus. Yes.
-
Not even an hour later, Miyeon is playing, of all fucking things, Candy Crush, legs draped lazily across Sana's lap, both of them kicked back on the couch, dressed again like the best girls you've ever seen. "The amount of money they make on this app-" Miyeon complains, waving a lazy hand. A long strand of blonde brushes against the corner of her mouth before she swipes it away again with an irritated sigh. She's just sitting there, knees folded, blithely bitching about a game of match three on her phone. "And they send these fucking blocks just to mess with me," - another swipe. Her hair sticks against the fresh gloss coating her lips. "It's literally just a waste of human-fucking-potential."
"It's a game for children," you offer.
"Then why is it marketed at adults, hm?" She's absolutely serious. "Sana plays it too."
"Mhmm," Sana agrees, not really agreeing at all. Her eyes are closed; you're sitting next to her, and she's taken up your leg as a makeshift pillow, lying down with her arm resting on her forehead, so casually disinterested in anything other than the quiet thrumming of your presence by her side.
It's insane that they're like this: like they're not constantly checking their phones for texts, like you don't all have lives. You're almost - dare you think - having a semi-regular conversation. Now If for a moment you could ignore how they both look like the human embodiment of sin-
"Miyeonie," Sana says.
"Sana," Miyeon returns, flat.
There's not even a movie playing on the living room TV - just the netflix menu; it's volume is at a sort of white noise. A subtle buzz clicks on in the air conditioner.
"You know how you're supposed to go out with that guy next weekend."
"You mean the date you set me up with." Miyeon pauses, tongue caught between her teeth. "Where I have to put on a pretty little dress. And smile. And laugh at all his jokes."
"You know the one."
Miyeon jumps on Sana's train of thought. "You want me to send you some pictures when it's over."
Sana turns it over in her head a few times. “Maybe,” she says, finally.
A genuine exchange perhaps. No fighting, no bullshit, no riptide of pure unbridled sexual frustration.
"Or," Sana adds, simply, "you skip the part where you sabotage the small talk and come back to our apartment." She blinks. "End up getting us both."
“You’re suggesting I’ve been ruining dates on purpose?” Miyeon, incredulous, runs her fingers through the hair at the top of her head, gentle, almost like an admission of guilt. "You're out of your mind. Why would I do that?"
The fragile peace never does last long. Sana looks at you again. Holds onto the eye roll. "Why, indeed."
"I don't follow," Miyeon says; something, a tic, a tell, causes the muscle in her brow to stutter.
"She's suggesting that you'd rather be in bed between us than on a date with some guy whose face we've only seen once," you cut in. Sana looks over. "It's come up a few times."
"Okay, so what?" Miyeon takes a breath. Her mouth a rictus twist. "You're trying to get me to admit it out loud? That I like to get fucked by my gorgeous bestfriend and her pinterest-board-of-a-boyfriend more than I'd like going to a mediocre concert downtown with some dipshit who just wants to see if I'll stick out this 'goddess' routine for a month or two and then bounce for someone else. Wow. Sherlock and Watson, coming through for the killshot. Take me straight to jail."
"We never got around to those cuffs," is what you make mention of. It's not particularly helpful.
"Don't pretend," Sana says instead, "you don’t like to play both sides. Or that the trad-wife fantasy of yours is somehow subtle."
“There's nothing shameful about knowing exactly who you are, or wanting something," Miyeon insists. She tilts her head towards the two of you. A different angle. Her words come out sharp and hot: "some of us have the decency to let our friends know exactly what they want."
“Okay.” You laugh out loud, half out of nervous habit. "Well obviously there’s some sort of rhythm here - I’m just not dumb enough to think I can put a finger on the pulse."
"Then this is, what, some sort of elaborate plot for my heart?" Miyeon's chuckling to herself, but in the space of a blink her voice is more tender. Her arms folding in close. "Is that the plan, finally catching me-"
"Next week." Sana sits up. "There's a trip coming up, something kind of international." She picks at the hem of her sweater, and looks at you.
“What the hell, exactly” - you card your hand through Sana’s hair - “does ‘kind of’ international entail?”
"Ms. Prada has a modeling campaign to attend," Miyeon intones. "She also needs someone to take care of the jetlag, is what I assume this is about."
Sana waves her hand in the air. "I'm saying we book you an extra ticket. Rent a room at a nice hotel. No work. No phones. Just us three, and the best sex you've ever had."
“I wasn’t even aware I was going to that,” you say - almost as an aside.
“You weren’t.” Sana leans more of herself into you. "You are now."
"Is this how you're going to woo me? The grand design?" Miyeon's hands are fiddling in her lap. Sana’s pressing in. Closer. "All the sex and leisure I could ever ask for?"
“It sounds ridiculous when you say out loud,” Sana answers, curling into her. “But, yeah, that’s pretty much it.”
Miyeon laughs like it’s a lost cause. Genuine, throaty - like music.
“Simplicity doesn’t have to be a bad thing, Miyeon.” Sana kisses her, slow. Quietly, "you could even pack a swimsuit," and there's this beat, the rise and fall of Miyeon's breathing that might lead anywhere: "though I doubt we touch the beach at all."
“You’re pulling on all my heartstrings, Sana.”
And there you are - etching your names onto the calendar. Reservations and bookings and promises of everything and anything and exactly where you all want to be.
It's Miyeon that finally admits, "you know part of me can’t resist the idea."
"Then, this weekend." Sana's fingertips trace circles on your hip, the tensing pull of muscle. You're aching and exhausted and content: drifting in the tide, a catch of the day, some soft, dreamy wave of consciousness, nothing specific, just the moment passing through all three of you.
But you do get it. There's this obvious snag in your heartbeat, too.
Because Sana is grinning; her fingertips, tapping. Your stomach's fluttering too. A little ghostly clutch of hope in your chest and it's such an embarrassing notion. You're getting swept away - pulled under - and it's Miyeon, splaying out beside Sana, her hand reaching out to you with her palm turned up. It's a promise, and the force of her can - and has - moved mountains.
"I pick the hotel," Miyeon's voice is deeply firm and sure. She’s got a fistful of Sana’s pajamas. "You two can sort out the lingerie."
Sana's mouth curves a perfect grin. She's kissing her again: wet. Heavy. It's not a no, if she was ever expecting one.
-
So that's your reality: what used to be two dalliances - separate but not distinct - now share one headspace, and there's enough rapport just in the group chat alone. You've all been messaging back-and-forth for weeks; Miyeon playing the game where she's the steady one in your life, the knot you're going to tie down when you can finally afford it (and in every way she can imagine). You find it entertaining. Sana seems mildly amused. And Miyeon will call you on the phone, sometimes. A chat-off. About nothing and everything. What you should bring on the trip. Where she's going to eat dinner before you meet her at the airport. Et cetera. Et cetera.
// Miyeon 1:21 AM > hey. I'm all finished packing. how's the bedroom looking?
// 1:26 AM > absolutely wrecked. no survivors
// Sana 1:27 AM > It’s fine. We stripped the sheets, got the box from the closet. Have the video you wanted as well. Call the laundry service in the morning and get the floor washed too. You know. So, nothing comes out of the security deposit.
// Miyeon 1:29 AM > a threesome that destroyed an apartment? say it isn't so
// Sana 1:34 AM > didn't hear you complain during.
// 1:38 AM > strict instructions, right?
And then sometimes, during those conversations, Miyeon will send an aside just for you:
// Miyeon 1:40 AM > strict? please. do whatever. I'm like so good at following instructions
That's Miyeon. The paradox of being submissive - you never, ever treat her gently. She never really wants you to. Sana's mid-reach over your chest to turn off the lights when she glances down at Miyeon's text, then promptly scoffs. The two of them don't always have the most conventional dialogue.
"She's one hundred percent serious by the way." Sana rolls on her side, away, but the nightlight beside the bed just manages to illuminate the slope of her ass - curved in the silk nightie she'd thrown on before bed. You want to crawl between the fabric.
"I never really doubted that. She's got a very specific... demeanor.”
“You’ve noticed.”
“Um,” you say. Sana’s turned over her shoulder to blink at you. “Kind of a dark streak. Like something in her is craving-"
"To be broken to pieces? Oh, it's fucking bliss for her when she's vulnerable and the tension cracks."
“I was going to phrase it a little more indirectly than that, but yes, I suppose that’s the gist of it.”
Sana shrugs.
"The girl lives to be chased is what it is.
It's just Sana and her perfect legs and smooth, creamy thighs right there, ready for you to touch, ready for you to fall apart over. They brush your calf, your thigh - so you are kind of distracted.
“And she feels most wanted when she's choking, getting used, right at the point she can't decide if another inch is gonna kill her or drive her up the wall. No air in her lungs, nothing under her own control." Sana flops, presses against your side, one leg tossed on top, arms curled around your neck. "Pretty obvious, all things considered."
"Sounds a bit familiar, no?" you tease, and reach back to draw her against the front of your body.
She curves, twists into your embrace. Her hair is half up, half down - wide eyed like a fantasy made manifest. You're always gonna give in, even when Sana doesn't deserve it.
"You get me. It’s the best. Please, go nuts with the idea."
“Huh, birds of a feather.”
“Sure, whatever,” Sana brushes a kiss against your cheek, presses back into your hips to feel your hard length strain between your boxers and her ass, softening only because, god, she's a real human fucking treasure, "so maybe Miyeon and I have a certain… similar temperment to us, maybe that's true."
"Yeah," you breathe. Your arms wrap around her, the heat in her core now evident from the outside. "That's what I've been saying."
Sana doesn't respond to that, not directly; her palms drag, smooth, over your fingers. "Fuck me to sleep," she suggests instead. "We've got an early flight."
And so you do. You'd pulled your cock from your shorts the second she pressed her ass into your waist and claimed her place as your other half, the little spoon. There's a few beats, a few breaths, where you'd rocked against her clumsily, lining yourself up, and she'd braced the two of you:
She'd arched her back, got an arm over her head to tangle a hand into your hair and keep you right where you were - your lips against her neck. Until it's just this soft-rhythm, all easy thrusts; one arm underneath her, the other around her hip, finding and spreading and - easily - gliding into her cunt.
Sana sighs a lovely sound right next to your ear: your name, some hushed curse. Her hand is wrenched back into whatever group of muscles she can find. And you listen to the gorgeous little tritone of oh shit, oh god, oh fuck when you make her cum. The displays of indulgent affection in her throat, then the ruddy mess of you working her to a wreck of pleasured exhaustion until she collapses into a hot-faced, sleepy daze. All cozy between the sheets, the duvet - you’d fucked her from the outside in; made her relieved and relaxed, all loose and calm. Sana curls into you with her moans still staining the cool side of her pillow and the snugness of her cunt wrapped around your cock.
You drift off just like that, snug inside her. Sana is, as always, impossibly warm.
-
On your phone, there are some choice text messages:
// Miyeon 2:18 AM > jesus
// Miyeon 2:18 AM > can you guys like please
// Miyeon 2:18 AM > PLEASE
// Miyeon 2:18 AM > fuck any quieter
Okay, so it's not perfect. But you're about ninety-percent sure Miyeon had used every fiber of her willpower not to float across the hall and take her spot between the both of you. And it's probably for the best. You feel pretty rough when the alarm starts blaring as it is.
-
The room Miyeon picks out isn’t exactly small, nor was she minding the purse strings. There's a wide expanse of living area, a massive bed in the back; the ensuite and bath beyond that has a walk-in shower large enough for all three of you and room left over. On the walls is gentrification-colored paint, a gray laminate flooring to match; there is not one speck of dust. It feels every bit the palace it is on the outside - the gables and mansard roofs and the Juliette balconies - gothic, or neoclassical. Something vaguely European, with all its rich furnishings and pristine fixtures to boot.
Sana and Miyeon step into the space with all the familiarity of royalty.
"Warm in here," says Sana, appraising; her black chiffon, nearly translucent, fans about her hips with each tiny sway. In her white pumps, she's already a perfect tease and she hasn't even touched herself yet. "Smells good, though."
Miyeon's heels echo behind her like gunshots against the floor, and it's really not ever fair the way a skirt wears her. "The listing said something about a hospitality kit, and essential oils - there should be a basket of things. Do you want me to start the water?"
"Let's settle in a little first," Sana suggests, and without any fanfare, the first thing she does is draw the gauzy curtain closed.
There's an itinerary; it's an ongoing event. Technically it all started in the airport terminal when Sana slung her arm around Miyeon's waist and her hand went straight down to her ass. She just gave it a little squeeze. In the moment, nothing terribly remarkable, but then again, Miyeon didn't tell her not to. They walked through security like that and picked out drinks together from a terminal cafe before doing a circuit, fingers linked. The way Sana looks at her now - Miyeon sees - is how she's always looked at her. That is maybe, the whole point.
"Come here."
Sana's tone is smooth as silk, her mouth an inviting pucker, gloss-dewy and delicious. The bow is even tied at the back: Sana's collar is fitted snug. It sits tight at the base of her neck with the silvery cord loose across her shoulder, knotted down near the apex of her spine. It's simple, classic. All soft fabric and no frill, with an absence that invites eyes and wandering fingertips: she hasn't worn a bra. No strap lines. Her body has the sweetest outline and the warmest curves and god, the skin she's not showing is as good as what she is.
"So," you say out loud. It hits you: there's no cameras, no urgency. No obligations. "We came all the way here just so Sana could have sex, huh."
It's really always about the two of them.
"Good sex," Sana corrects. The table next to her catches the flat of her palm as she settles herself against the surface, one leg crossing in front. The slit in her dress rises in the movement: enough of a hint at the soft thigh underneath. You see her do this every once in a while and her body doesn't lie; this is an implicit act of seduction. But when she looks back up, her smile goes shy and her voice follows suit: "I promised our princess that we'd spoil her a little."
You say, "she's right there," at the same time Sana adds- "which is kind of impossible when she's still wearing her clothes."
Miyeon makes a big, showy production of crossing her arms in a huff. You could do anything; flip a switch; knock her flat against the wall, and Sana would hold her down with a hand at her throat and a kiss her like fire and gasoline on her tongue and no one would have a single word to say to complain.
You could have. Would have. But Miyeon finds her fingertips on the ridge of her clavicle, the barest swipe. She pulls at the top button of her shirt and the seam unlatches: a single reveal, a gradual, fluid movement in the dip and fall of a one inch gap. Just enough skin to make you and Sana swallow.
"Oh?" Miyeon grins. She stares at you with that coy smirk, biting her lip; an invitation for a kiss. For a fuck. You cross the gap, with every intention of making good on it; only, Sana slips in behind her - stops her midway in undoing the next button - and places a hand on the nape of Miyeon's neck, cool.
"She really can be a brat, can't she."
"Only because she gets rewarded for it," you admit, and as soon as Sana touches her, Miyeon is looking up with that same face she gives you when she gets on her knees, ready to be just your little pet, your desperate, whimpering thing.
Sana leans into her ear: "maybe because she knows she can't stop thinking about you bending her over, every chance she gets. Isn’t that right, pretty girl?"
They've always been like this, you think. Growing up with money and cars and ski vacations in the Alps: that sort of thing. It's been a long, slow, build-up and this was always the payoff. It is, without a doubt, just the slightest taste of luxury. Sana pushes, and Miyeon turns up to her mouth with a slow, dangerous whisper. "Isn't it kinder to say it as it is, instead of dancing around it for weeks-"
"For months," corrects Sana, and then sliding into a far more generous tone, "mouths, fingers- or his cock?"
"Maybe," Miyeon lifts her chin like she's readying to kiss, "all three."
Her voice drips - purses her lips, and you're there again: at that fateful exchange. Everything about Miyeon has the power to sink its claws deep. Those heels on her dainty little feet, the stockings climbing along her thighs. Everything.
"Miyeon." That comes out harsher than you'd have thought.
"What can I say? I'm not a patient person." She's got that wild, starry-eyed look to her. You could tame her. You could dominate her - your throat is so dry. The room has the faint scent of citrus, like lemon rind and verbena - a kind of lightheadedness settling over you all. "So, why don't you..." She's blushing, holding her arm up as she skims a finger down this slow path along your torso, finally hooking it into the top of your pants. And now, it's very, very clear she isn't wearing a bra either. "Make things a bit easier."
There's an entire lexicon of everything you'd like to do, so it's best, maybe, that you settle for: "Sana, be a doll."
"Anything," she says; she doesn't hesitate. You like the easy give.
And it's kind of amazing. All three of you together and, sure, the way her fingertips tighten, sliding under the curve of Miyeon's chin and then pulling the linen shirt down from the backs of her shoulders - this is a choice you can all agree on. One that pulls on the elastic band hugging the cut of Miyeon's waist, makes the material drag and ride up the front of her legs. Her belly. Sana has the gift of being able to kiss so perfectly on the back of someone's neck that you could easily forget she can get a little mean, too.
"What is it, baby." Sana asks; a challenge, not a question. "Come on, love. You know it's true. Why don't you let me show him how sweetly you moan with just a pair of fingers in your cunt."
"Please do."
"You're practically wet just saying it. You want it that much." Her voice goes thin, then deep again: a stark contrast. "Show him the mess you've made."
Miyeon's hand is in all the way in your pants; you feel hot. Like the room's air conditioning should've kicked on a lifetime ago - you're trying not to think too much on the way her slender fingers start to wrap themselves around the shape of your cock and your mouth falls open, because she can just - fuck - do that-
They turn to each other like mirror images over the slope of Miyeon’s shoulder, exchanging some secretive wordlessness in the privacy of their smiles and soft, muted laughter. Miyeon's on the toes of those pretty pumps to lean in, closer, further, and Sana lets her.
Which is exactly how it happens: Miyeon kissing you. And she really kisses you, sweet, delicate - and somehow all-consuming. It sets off this chain reaction, a wildfire of unbridled desire: that thread in Sana that can be almost violent, and one that Miyeon always manages to bring to the surface of her skin. Because now Miyeon's gripped and pinned, and Sana, bless her, pulls the fabric of her own dress up over her head until she's naked alongside her. Working towards a common goal. Here's two hands. Here's two more. They're helping you out of your shirt. It's pretty easy from there. You're all unraveling together, just falling apart - Sana and you, working in tandem to unclasp the pearl snap buttons trailing up and down the sides of Miyeon's sinfully short skirt, peeling back the cotton. Miyeon holds the swell of your cock tight in one hand, pumping, while Sana rakes her nails over Miyeon's breasts; both girls taking off the final scraps until every article of clothing is tossed to the floor.
And Miyeon here is simply unbelievable. Your hands are all over her. Her razor-fine waist, her thighs. Her lips. Those soft tits, and that cute mole above her nipple. Because even her imperfections deserve the same lavish attention.
You kiss her, and kiss her, and you can't help thinking how filthy it feels. This wet mouth and tongue, everything you could want in the slide of her mouth - just, messy-perfect and a bit sloppy; how her whimpers leak out in soft, a tight inhale. You cup the side of her jaw as your hips grind into her and a low, uneven sound escapes you. Sana's small fingers wrap her ribs to grip a breast, knead the supple curve and supply her thumb to the indent. It's really, so soft, and warm, and then wet: your precum dribbling over her knuckles, rolling down. Miyeon has her head tilted to let her jaw lean into your palm - she smiles, and laughs like it's nothing - like you're not there, towering over her lithe little frame. Like the head of your cock isn't brushing into her bottom rib under all the twists and jerks of her wrist.
"Your cock is so hard," Miyeon threads into a sigh, in that throaty, almost melodic voice. And then she laughs because she knows exactly what it’ll fucking do to her. "And fucking heavy. I thought I was going to get a real good look earlier in the airport," she confesses.
"Let me guess." Sana presses a kiss to her temple from behind; a lull in the scene. You fuck yourself gently into the curl of her fist. "You've been thinking about it this whole time. About getting him inside you. With that naughty little mind of yours running at a million miles an hour. God, that must've been such a tease, getting stuck with just the thought while we sat through lunch, and the flight-"
"Don’t forget right now-" Miyeon presses in. Her breath is hot against your neck. "While we're talking."
"Princess," Sana says into her ear, and it makes her tip her head - until she’s revealing the pale skin of her neck. God, yeah; maybe she really is nobility. "I'd be hard-pressed to leave you wanting. Your body's all wound up for us."
"She's fucking soaked," you confirm, like you aren't pointing out the most obvious thing in the room.
Miyeon bites her lip; you're gripping your shaft, urging her wrist to go faster. "This is the part where you turn me inside-out, no?" Miyeon is a walking fucking cliche and she knows it, smiling all slyly with her teeth. She says it so damn casually: "so why isn’t my pussy getting any attention, really. I wonder, I wonder-"
"Trust me, neither of us are interested in teasing," Sana assures her. "We're going to fuck you until you can't remember your own name. And then we'll fuck you some more."
You push down hard on her collarbone, and in that same instant Sana drops her free hand below and runs the flats of her fingertips along the plane of Miyeon’s tummy - until Miyeon tilts her hips - everything else still, almost lazy. Her feet leave the floor and then come back down again. The momentum of the fall ends up being enough to jostle the three of you towards the nearest wall where Sana's back is kissing the cold drywall. And you're already there - pressed into both: Miyeon's palms flat against your chest as you haul her thighs around your waist.
Hoisted, lifted, cradled between you and your girlfriend - who by the way is inching two fingertips under the top of a lacy-banded thong, slipping beneath the white trim, to finally (oh, god) pull her hand away and slip it into Miyeon's parted mouth. "Look at you." A hum in her chest. "The most beautiful, perfect-"
(You push your cock into her, and hand to god, you swear Miyeon's voice breaks like a bottle over pavement.)
"And all for us- your slutty little pussy is already so wet- Miyeonie, we've barely even started.”
Just think. The code word system you've been employing for months - "We were actually thinking... if you're not doing anything else... what's the harm in the two of us getting more familiar with you." - has proved exceptionally reliable in getting Miyeon out of her clothes and into your lap, but here's where it all vanishes into thin air. Sana's mouth is hovering over Miyeon's shoulder; her body, caught between the two of you. And she's trading in on the implied permission to tell you more directly:
"She needs to cum all over that cock, babe. Fuck her pussy until she’s creaming, won't you."
"Right." You groan in tacit approval, hands holding firm onto the firm swell of her hips - that round little ass, the dimples you can feel the dip of, just under your thumbs. She's already thrown her arms up around the back of your neck when your cock slips inside her, to tug you in; this wordless begging: need, need, need.
It's not even a totally new sensation. Nor is it even the first you've ever been inside her, but god - Miyeon takes one deep breath, and on the second inhale, you sink another thick inch of your cock into her slippery slit: she's completely, gloriously bare, just this slick heat that only opens more and more and more. You draw back, thrust in, and there's this sopping sound, all wet press, into the soft muscle - you don't even remember pulling her panties to the side. But they're bunched into the crease of her thigh and that's rather convenient.
Her breath hitches as she slots down onto your shaft, again - in rhythm - like a total dream. "Fuck, that's so tight," she grates, her voice rough and gutted; something like, 'I cannot believe you feel this good.'
-and they groan in unison when you pick up speed. All of it. Together.
Because it's not just Miyeon's perfect cunt wrapping you up tight, squeezing and pulsing, even better on the backstroke - but it's the way Sana is catching your lips in the space over Miyeon’s shoulder. That you three can play each other with the promise that every last moan or gasp or the single, resounding thrill of pleasure will find a perfect partner: one for your mouth and one for Sana's fingers at Miyeon's collar bone, a tickle along her hip, pressing an insistent fingertip around and around in small circles, dipping into the give.
Her body's shaking so much through every push and pull. Fuck. She's so small - and you're the one filling her. Fucking her. Breaking her. Pressing two girls into the wall like you've earned the right. You're splitting Miyeon apart so that Sana can fill the spaces you leave empty and vice versa: and she's so, so desperate, the little noises she's making, "Please," like it hurts. "Fuck," like it's the best feeling. "Keep going, please, fuck- don't stop."
"See, baby? It feels better when you just give up, doesn't it?" Sana's got her fingers down further between Miyeon's thighs; you can see her swipe upwards. Hear the wet sound. She says, "there," into her ear. "Nice and slow, while he fucks that cunt, and I rub you like this, we want to keep making you feel good. So take what you need, hm. I don't hear you-"
"Oh my god," Miyeon moans. And she means it - feels herself dripping all over you. "I need it. I need it, I-"
"Come on, darling," Sana chuckles, soft and low in her ear.
"N-need," Miyeon chokes.
And what kind of idiot wouldn't take their palm off her breast, or undig their fingers from the round of her ass for even a second. It's having her in the palm of your hand. With one foot dangling against your thigh and the other tangled up above you, the stretch in Miyeon's body is entirely for the convenience of letting you fuck her to pieces.
"There it is," Sana is murmuring into your mouth again, and that’s a reward of its own, her wet, full kiss at the junction between Miyeon’s neck and shoulder as her thumb digs deeper into the curve of the girl’s thigh. You listen to Miyeon moan your own name, uttered like it was written by god and meant to form on her lips as it tumbles down through the ragged mess of pants and gasps.
“Fuck, baby-” You press harder. “Your pussy feels incredible- how you suck me right up like you're the good girl you love to pretend you are- like a perfect toy," you breathe, "-all nice and hot. Licking, swallowing around my cock, getting dicked out for my enjoyment-"
"Yeah, yes," she pants out, the total capitulation. "It feels so fucking good."
You feel the mindless, blissful roll. A rhythm in the give of her thighs as you slide home again and again. There's a clink from the bracelets on her wrists; her hair falling into her eyes; there's the sheer ecstasy written all over her pretty face when Sana reaches one hand to start drawing slow circles on her clit.
"You're just fucking me so god-damn-good." She’s breathless; you’re taking everything from her. The poise, the finesse, the dignity.
"Of course we are," Sana supplies, and it's fitting. You're both holding her up. You'll be the ones tearing her down.
Miyeon's arms tighten around the back of your head, arching, squeezing, and there's that feeling that always accompanies Miyeon: like she's completely melting you to her core and turning your brains into fucking mush. Everything from her tight little pussy to her breathtakingly pretty eyes to the way her spine flexes to meet the pitch of her voice - it's fucking ridiculous, that she's even real in the first place - let alone that your cock is buried so deep in her cunt you think you can hear her sob. Or that all five-foot-two of her is making these tiny desperate noises as you use the width of her hips to bounce her harder onto your cock.
Sana's long fingers slip and press - they're not touching anything except the swell of her pussy, just this ghostly brush of a light, almost chaste graze. It's enough: a touch like that, and fuck, another-
Miyeon cries out.
“I'm going to cum-"
"Say it again," Sana's whispering, "tell us what you need," and in a sort of coup-de-grace-style-of-climax, she bites at the skin over the top of Miyeon's jaw and slips a fingertip right onto her aching clit. Presses down. "You're such a fucking slut, Miyeon, such a gorgeous cocksleeve-"
"I-"
She's actually whimpering, the poor thing. Eyes squeezed shut, toes clenching; everything is trembling, tense with release. You’re fucking her into a puddle of a person, and she’s holding her lip between her teeth like it might do a goddamn thing. It makes sense; the tightness, and wet and heat is what she knows.
"Go on," Sana answers her, and it's like her words slice the voice in Miyeon’s throat to shreds, "cum all over his cock. So. Fucking. Good, baby," a hard push through every syllable as her teeth snag into the shell of her ear. She rides the boundary of degradation and downright debasement because she knows that’s how Miyeon will absolutely cum for her. For you, for both of you. "Do what you're fucking made for, and just take it, pretty, lovely, you can’t live a second without having his fat cock and my fingers in you, can you? You look like a filthy little angel like this, I swear."
You’re both on the same page, telling her over and over - shh, shh, you take that cock so well, feel that cock fuck you apart, baby, and all you have to do is cum - only, you’re paying homage to the title: you call her princess. Sana takes the opposite approach. Tells her, "you want everyone to know, don't you, what a goddamn fucking slut you are. You filthy, dirty little thing-"
It works. They both work, and so does everything else.
Your blood has gone totally hot. Like molten lava. Boiling over and about to spill.
The last thing Miyeon says: "Oh god - I'll be good, I'll do anything, I'll be your slut - Sana - anything-"
And it's one of the best lines to ever leave her mouth.
"-for this beautiful cock and these fucking perfect fingers, shit - fuck! Right there, right there, right-fucking-there-"
You fuck deeper, harder. The orgasm ripping through her muscles lets you leave marks and bruises you’ll be coming back to all weekend. Miyeon's face falls against the crook of your neck, mouth pressed there - you can feel every gasping inhale, the open-mouthed warmth of her body. It's you that whispers a shudder, half-voweled - "Miyeon," and she’s already there, so ready - it's kind of crazy how everything about this girl works so intricately and precise, like her very design was to take you to the hilt and melt all over your cock, because Miyeon's response comes as a mind-blanking:
"You can," a muffled whine in her throat. "Do it. Cum inside me. I want to-"
Sana’s eyes flare like she can feel that cable snapping, too. How your mind is all white noise. The torque of blood rushing through your head. You're thrusting deep into her well-fucked cunt with all the strength you can muster, your hips stuttering in the follow-through. When you catch the smile in her lips - the curl in her lips like she knows you’re about to spill everything, like the perfect siren’s call- you hear Sana over her shoulder: "fuck her. Use her. I think she wants to feel it in her fucking stomach - you know, the whole reason we’re here-"
You cum inside her - there’s no question - filling her tight hole up. Shit. You actually cum all over her too.
In fact, you manage to drag yourself all the way out from Miyeon, the wet quivers and hot aftershocks, all so Sana can get a good visual of how you’re fucking ruining her: the loose rope of white that streaks up her tummy, splaying out beneath her breasts. The absolute debauchery; it’s even more pornographic when your fist pumps another splatter of cum right onto the swollen lips of her pussy. Miyeon moaning on impact.
Sana supplies her own soft gasp, scraping the air past her teeth, tension hanging in the silence - and then you bury the rest of your load back inside her cunt.
And here's a feeling that's going to stick with you for a while. Beyond the fireworks in your pulse - the shake-ripple that leaves you with nothing, no muscles, no brain matter - you slide your cock through her cunt again, and again - just to feel how your cum pushes back out. And she's watching, she’s letting you watch: how messy she's become. Her tits. Her sweat-dewed thighs. How every second seems to bring its own unique ache.
Really, you’re left only with a near mental blank. “God, Miyeon-”
You have just the barest capacity to consider the way Miyeon's trembling frame clings hard - pulling her ass cheeks down flush against your hips - your thick cock completely seated, stuffing her fucking cunt as she goes weak and submissive. You hold her there, suspended as your orgasm softens inside her and Sana hums along your lips, the soft coos spilling into Miyeon's ear: "what a messy, nasty girl. Princess needs to be full and leaking everywhere, doesn't she. How many creampies do you think you're going to ask for?” Sana laughs. “How many will ever be enough? I hope he gave you something worth begging for."
It's not really surprising how a feeling can hook its teeth into you when you're cumming like that. Subjugating the deepest reach of her sopping cunt to fulfill your own filthy fantasy.
And look: Miyeon is soaked - soaked and wrecked and pliant. You kiss her and kiss her, and Sana kisses you, kisses her too, all of it muddled up - and your mouths are a mess. Your hands go into her hair, onto her ass; there's cum down her thighs and all over the floor. The smell of you three: her slicked arousal and your sweat and Sana's expensive perfume.
Here, come come - Sana is a flurry of activity; she's helping Miyeon out of her second heel after you'd fucked the first one off her foot without bothering to get the strap unhooked. There's her careful proclamation of, "thank god the walls aren't paper," as you practically carry Miyeon to the edge of the sofa, this dreamy vision of messy hair and a royally-befit-blush. In the whole world, not once has Miyeon looked like anything less than nobility.
And now's no different, really.
You sink down onto the plush, tufted fabric - a chair whose shape might confuse you if Sana hadn’t told you earlier it was explicitly built for fucking, or whatever it is you're doing. She's smiling at you, settling her face right onto your shoulder and peering up.
"Sana," she says wistfully, but looks right at you. "My legs are still a noodly-mess. Could you turn on the jets in the tub?"
"And leave the two of you unsupervised?" She jokes. "Never."
Miyeon sticks out her lip. Pouts, almost: "it'd just be a second."
"She's only asking for a minute," you add in.
Sana rolls her eyes. "And since you've suddenly turned into two hopeless idiots, it can't be trusted. If I'm drawing a bath," a flick of the gaze, "the least you can do is join me. A chance to recover if nothing else."
Miyeon, being Miyeon, has already dropped her face down to your lap, curling up with your cock at her lips. When she gets her first, tantalizing, almost chaste little swipe at the tip, she smiles all impressed with herself. With those big brown eyes, her fingertips skating delicately along your stomach, and her dark lashes beating slow - all of Miyeon, right now, is on purpose, calculated. Precise.
Her voice is even worse: "she wants her own go first, don't you think?"
Sana watches where your fingers thread into the ends of Miyeon's silky hair, just the gentlest twist and tug. How you have her mouth ready and open, waiting; how Miyeon glances over for approval.
"Well," Sana turns a cheek, "he's already so worked up." Her dark eyes look towards you - a mock frown. "I don't know if we can convince him otherwise."
Miyeon's throat clicks - she's not choking yet, but left to her own devices, she will be. Her expression melts into an almost-gasp as your cock fills the empty space in her mouth. There's that plush little gag as she opens, lips wet. You rock your hips, and then you get to watch her nose kiss the trail leading up the smooth plane of your belly.
"I could go for a soak," you admit, with Miyeon drooling on your cock.
Because Sana's doing that thing where she turns around, has the smug look over her shoulder. Makes a slow, teasing movement that leads your eyes from her pretty face all the way down the cut of her back, until finally she's pushing the soft waves of her hair into one hand so that her ass is perfectly presented-
And jesus, sure: the sloping hips, the inviting lines - the sharp points and soft edges, where she is and isn't; her cupped fingers come up to her own chest, just to show off the heft of her tits, hanging heavy. Everything is sensually posed. You're only a little bit mesmerized. Her figure has always had the cut of a pinup model. Curves like a siren. Her waist to hip ratio is - oh-fucking-kay, maybe you could do it right now - bend her in half - get her fucking sobbing until you kiss her quiet and cum so deep in her cunt it's all she can think about for days-
You realize then you're pulling too hard on Miyeon’s hair.
Not meaning to, or maybe too eager.
Hey, you have a pretty girl sucking life back into your cock and one more giving you bedroom eyes from across the room all ready to sit on it; you never said you weren't trying your best.
"Careful, honey. I'm getting impatient." Sana's hand traces the wallpaper trim in the hall, a sweeping path; a vague reminder as she disappears down and around the corner. You hear the squeak of the faucet and then the sound of her light footsteps. And then it's just an echoey and unapologetic, "one day I might not let you have all the fun," followed by, "my goodness-"
Sana, appraising her reflection in all likelihood. All bright smiles
You turn back to find a second set of eyes staring back, full of hunger, as a wet, messy heat wraps around the base of your shaft and follows to the top with the flutter of her tongue - and then all the way to the back of that tempting throat. Miyeon's moving at the tempo you'd put her at. You appreciate that. But you lift her jaw and hold the side of her face so she's looking straight at you - and as soon as you pop yourself out from between her lips, you say, "you'll let me taste Sana, too, won't you, baby?"
(Miyeon's never been good at saying no - to anything. That doesn't change here in the slightest.)
The way you laugh is easy and sweet. You kiss the space over her temple. "We've always been in this together, Miyeon," a soft tease. "Go ask her nicely, and I bet she lets you clean me up," before adding, "maybe, after you lick all the cum out of my girlfriend's tight ass."
And Miyeon simply grins. The promise of that sloppy fucking mess. She's ruined herself time and time again over far less.
"Oh," she says, "you know how good I look with cum dripping down my chin.”
It's kind of impressive how shameless she can be. So fucking blase - what are friends for, anyway.
“Shall we?"
You scoop Miyeon right up into your arms and, upon standing, swing her little body around in front of you. And she knows that's the sort of thing she shouldn't enjoy: being manhandled, told what to do, having someone lift the choice off her shoulders like that - but that doesn't stop her from tangling herself up around your neck and tilting her hips back into you in that playful-fake, overly innocent-cute mien - where she says in this tiny whisper, "are we, you think?"
Your mouth lands on her ear, nips the softness there, "behave yourself, sweetheart."
And then a low, breathless laugh escapes her: "when's the last time that was even an option."
-
(For the record, the answer is never, and you're probably actually so fucked - it's kind of hilarious to look back at it, and think, because how could any two people who have spent as many weeks (months) as you, putting all the right pieces into the right places, get all the stars align at once? The idea that the three of you are hooking up and nobody's getting hurt, murdered or hung out to dry is statistically improbable; and the likelihood that anyone in this presidential suite will survive the weekend without breaking at least four limbs in various places is rapidly dropping with each passing hour. You've been taking the old adage and clutching it against your chest -
It can't be a sin, if it makes you happy.)
-
Past the door, the first thing you notice is that Sana's hair is all pinned up. Always pretty like that.
However it doesn't change the picture a whole lot. A few inches more bare skin isn't exactly a big difference when there's the whole, naked, porcelain expanse that spans the soft length of her shoulders, along her hips and waist, and runs to her feet. It's still kind of incredible. The hourglass shaped silhouette. All the natural curves finding relief in the right places. Model-esque, that sort of thing. And, yes: her tits, the absolute heaven-sent frame of her ass and those amazing legs.
It goes without saying.
She's there with her back arched, an arm perched on the granite of the counter. So relaxed. An elegance only afforded to the very lucky or the very rich. She lets her head fall back, the fine curve of her chin canting above a neck that you would've been biting kisses into just moments ago if she hadn't put herself in full profile to take your breath away.
"Show off," Miyeon mumbles, and then whispers to you, "sorry. My body can't do that, like-" she indicates - with a weird wobbly hand gesture, about the height of Sana's pelvis. "Whatever that is."
Sana tilts her head forward and meets the glance you give her reflection.
"Hmm," is her eloquent contribution to the airy room, woven into the pitter-patter of bathwater, lapping at the surface. "Now why am I left to wonder why there's no one making good on my requests, huh."
You cross the space; get close. And Miyeon stays curled up against you, doesn't let you slip away as you walk over, doesn't let go. She kisses the front of your shoulder, hums softly.
"My bad," You say. It's very believable. You sound a bit winded; kind of a wreck, but your sincerity shines through in that sort of 'I'll fuck it better' kind of way.
"Excuses, excuses." A dismissive shrug. "The water's perfect. But if you insist," and the sultry drop of Sana's eyelashes is deliberate, an invitation. Her breath is caught as your mouth finds the space between her neck and shoulder blade - the place where she's gone all pink, "I'd hardly pass up the chance for you both to eat my pussy first."
And look: it's not a lie, per se, but the natural instinct for Miyeon-logic is just to provide the justification, "the faster we get you a cumming, squirming, desperate mess-" her hand slips to cup the junction of her jaw and the crook of her throat. "-the sooner it'll be 'til he fucks me senseless again."
"We have a long way to go to get even, sweetie," argues Sana. "Last time, you were both pretty self-absorbed."
"We'd never ignore you on purpose," you whisper into the crook of her neck, and Sana turns to let you follow that deep, velvety mouth as the kiss flows across her lips. "You're absolutely necessary."
"Only by accident, then. That's a little bit worse," snarks Sana. The reprimand dies down into something soft as Miyeon lets her tongue trail flat over a nipple. She shudders.
"If I keep going, maybe you can forgive us?" You watch her eyelids flutter open, a haze of ecstasy passing behind her eyes. You keep an arm at her hip, wrap around and press flat until her whole flat tummy is pinned against your cock.
"Mmm," Sana hums. It's that sultry note she likes to let trail from the very end of her throat. "Ask me again after you get me off. But slowly: I want to savor every detail."
Miyeon traces kisses across Sana's rib until your girlfriend presses two wet fingers to her mouth. Easy.
"Then you should probably do something about her," you say, and - as if in agreement - Sana twists her hand into the cascades of her Miyeon's hair. You lean into her shoulder. She sighs; exhales, deeply, while her back is shimmying further backwards into the countertop.
"And you should help her make it up to me," Sana chimes, her voice clear and melodic, every inflection playing right at home in her vocal cords. "Two mouths are better than one, and I have so many other places you should be kissing."
Sana has a verifiable gravitas, for one, and when she's not hiding in plain sight behind the bubbly-bright act she likes to put on, it's nearly impossible not to fall in line behind her. This isn't to say you couldn't win her over either; it's a pretty small crowd here. But you choose one direction and watch her skin pink up and turn to red; you grab a wrist and it goes cold and white. Every last part of her is so damn expressive. The point is that she doesn't need you to make a fool out of yourself to know you're into her - or vice versa.
(Or. You're such a goddamn sucker, as Miyeon likes to remind you with a scoff, a little eye-roll, and then her hands on your belt. At least, before everything else: the knowing smirk, the dangerous suggestion).
You let your fingers find the backs of Sana's thighs as she spreads her knees apart, and there, you're reminded of the one thing. That of all the ways these two girls are identical, you've never found a comparison that really works. Not by any useful measure.
Miyeon has all the softer features: a bit dainty, the doe eyes and the lone dimple, like a doll with an aw-so-cute factor, whereas Sana is all sharp, clean angles; the sculpted muscle in her calves and thighs, the firmness and muscle underneath - which, yeah, definitely not the worst trade off. Don't get it confused, both girls crave your approval; both prefer when things get rough and sloppy. Describing either as anything but the most submissive holy-shit-take-me-now-I-need-you type, when put under the slightest pressure is laughable.
Not when Miyeon lets you use her like a toy. Or when Sana tells you exactly what you need to do to fuck a baby into her (hypothetically speaking; she gets a little silly and dumb around the edges whenever she's about to cum and her brain starts tripping over her tongue). Neither will hesitate when given the option of having your hand on the side of their throat, pinning their wrists to the headboard or the shower wall, fucking them until they go liquid and collapse in your arms, shivering, whimpering and begging, their pussies pulsing around your cock. In fact, there's really no hard or fast rule at all. But here, you recognize, is a great point of difference -
"Baby," you murmur into the inside of Sana's thigh. You leave a mark with your lips that you’ll come back to. "So. Fucking. Gorgeous-" right as Miyeon starts pressing her mouth against her cunt. "Aren't you, baby? The most beautiful girl. And all of this is just mine?"
Listen - the praise kink your girl has is actually pretty textbook: Sana wants to be called sweet, she wants to be complimented, rewarded, and all that good stuff; she wants you to talk to her the way everyone who sees a flash of her skin or a sway of her hips wants to - the best parts of adulation, arousal, love, without any of the side-eye of it being totally obscured in a crowded venue.
Direct.
To the point.
She wants to hear each and every you're sexy, you look hot, your ass drives me crazy. She wants it on the gruff in your voice, how it gets a little rough at the edges. Tell me you're mine. You make me so hard. This is just the very essence of who Sana is, and you have learned that you need to give as well as take: feed her a tiny ego boosting here and there, and she will completely throw herself at you in return.
Miyeon watches you run your tongue over her cunt like she’s taking notes, and it’s clear you’re more than prepared to give it all up to her. There's always been this veneration, this reverence for every inch of her, a pull towards her - her eyes, her mouth, her wrists, her long beautiful legs, the place where the skin of her thighs meets - you've always had this insane fascination with Sana, this need to know what she'd taste like or sound like. At any given moment.
"Oh," Sana pushes Miyeon closer, moaning. "Yours. So yours, baby."
The moment you both have your tongues working at her - tasting, the sweetness of her dripping down onto both of your faces, making you lick your lips and kiss each other so Sana gets to watch - Miyeon hums approvingly. Lets out this very performative, "isn't she just the best?"
And it isn’t that you can't find the right word - divine, wonderful, heaven, incredible, without any flaw - there just isn't much room to read into the fact that you and Miyeon are both sunk to your knees on the bathmat, kneeling in worship, in adoration - sucking on Sana's clit. The imagery sells itself.
"We'd never forget the important things," Miyeon continues, dreamily.
She's trading with you the folds of Sana's dripping pussy and the outline of her lips for her thigh. You pick up where she leaves off, and that earns you Sana's hand raking through the back of your hair, pressing you so close you can hear her heartbeat in her pulse; her blood burning through the very spot.
“That's how you make me feel, baby: so fucking good. Amazing." You taste it. You chase it. There is nothing like her cum filling your mouth. "Pretty. Mine. All mine."
“Yeah, okay - sure - that feels really fucking good.”
Sana's orgasms always start slow; a slight adjustment of her hips, the rub of one calf against the other, she's never been the quiet type but there's not quite the screaming or yelling just yet. Her jaw is set.
"You're, uh-," she adds, failing at anything else.
Miyeon tries for it. That edge of danger; not in pain or frustration, but, "there you go, sweetie: you sound so fucking pretty when you're worked up. Just tell us - the words, we need the words to make it good, baby."
"Fine," says Sana, tilting her head down, breathing deeply, and she makes a sound that's neither a whimper nor a laugh, but a crossroads of both. "Right there, oh my god, you are so fucking dangerous, holy shit. Oh, please. Please. You two- just, please, don't you dare- just a little bit - mmm. Why do you have to be so good at that?"
"Right?" Miyeon laughs out loud - like you're the one missing a vital point, like it's your fault your face is buried in her folds. “I used to think guys just didn’t like doing it. And then, well-"
And you drag your tongue flat and up over her pussy, right through that whole slicked up slit, your fingers still pumping in and out, and then you flick it just hard enough to-
"-yeah," she huffs, panting.
Miyeon presses her thumb into the mess of Sana's cunt, and it causes Sana's whole body to shudder apart - you lift your face to breathe, or to promise, "we can go for hours if you want, taking turns making you cum," before pressing into her again, and Sana's only got so much patience and stamina when you're two steps ahead of the curve, because her legs are practically going to wobble off her body.
"Poor, pretty baby," Miyeon murmurs against her, and she's talking like she’s taken all the control now. Operating in that cycle of push and pull.
And to her point: Sana is whining, gasping - every bit as hot and bothered and needy. She's whispering please and not giving up her requests.
"Fuck. Okay, sorry-” she apologizes. For some reason.
Your nose keeps getting bumped, her cunt is grinding down into your chin. That is fine. If it keeps on like this, your whole face will be soaking wet.
"I'm going to just- going to go ahead and cum, I think- so fucking. Yeah, keep on going just like, shit, please: my pussy is fucking throbbing."
This is the easy part, if you've read the rest right. If the hours and the minutes, and all the passing days: you know which direction the pieces are about to fall.
Sana arches her spine, rolls her hips into your face, and when you swirl your tongue all over the wet heat at her core, the sound she makes is music: low, throaty and delicate. Your mouth is attached to her clit still when you look up over the hand you have steadying each tremble in her diaphragm. And possibly as a sort of vengeful maneuver, Miyeon is shoving two fingers under your jaw and far enough into Sana's pussy that each curl of a knuckle is all that’s left to find Sana cumming right onto your mouth, your chin.
She wants to scream, to cry out, but her mouth joins her face, in that frozen expression of anguish, of an absolute that perfect pleasure.
"Shh, shh, it's okay," Miyeon consoles, standing up, leaning in - close, really, impossibly close; she presses their foreheads together, murmuring against Sana's ear, whispering what-do-you-need, there you go. Baby, that was perfect. They each know the song and dance. They can shamelessly recite each other's lines. Miyeon slides an arm to the small of Sana's back, one across her shoulders, and Sana leans against her with this gorgeous look of a perfect, mind-numbing orgasm on her face, her eyes bright, her lashes fluttering - a sheen of sweat across her forehead; your stomach falls and bottoms out; you can't not be fucking attracted to these two. Miyeon smooths down her hair, reassuring her. Her hand reaches lower, wraps around her, pulls.
The bath is well filled at this point, water near overflowing, and Sana is equally fucking soaked. This storm of wet and hot beneath your lips. You clean her off with the broad stroke of your tongue and don't spill a drop, because the noise she's making - it sounds like rapture, ecstasy. She's half-delirious, panting, with her hands gripping the sides of your head.
"Where," she gasps, trying her damnedest. You have the best girls in the world, you really fucking do. Miyeon rubs the heel of her palm against the soaked, red hood of her cunt. Sana lets out a sound halfway between a gasp and a groan; the arch of her hips chasing Miyeon's touch; "you, are you two - god damn, if I hadn't already-"
"Shhh. My poor girl. You're not thinking about his cock just yet," and those are Miyeon's slender fingers coaxing your jaw free from Sana's cunt, prying her free from you so she can sit alone at her throne. "They always keep lube in these kind of places," Miyeon reaches into a drawer, fumbling about. It takes a moment for it to register that she's actually talking to you. "It usually looks like some body oil, you know the nice massage kind, in these tiny bottles. Help me look, will you?"
It does not take long - hotel management understands what these rooms are for. The scandal and the romance and everything in between. Because Miyeon finds what she’s looking for in the next drawer down: a sample-sized container of massage oil, something slippery and organic. It smells vaguely of lavender.
"Look at me," Miyeon tells you, and Sana is absolutely listening along too. It's all very seamless: Sana and then Miyeon. All the synchronized parts. Their signals have some sort of feedback even if you're not always actively aware of the things they pass back and forth.
Miyeon guides Sana onto her shaky legs, turns her toward you - So you swallow, hard, and run your thumbs into the crease of her ass - you're kneeling, still, still totally naked and wet all around the jaw. "Eat her ass, and I'll keep her cumming until she can't feel anything else."
You shift your weight and run a kiss along the tender skin at the back of Sana’s thigh. The contact has her bracing a hand on the counter for support.
“And then-” Miyeon says, with a gleam in her eyes like she knows what the fuck she wants. She slides back down to the floor until Sana is pinned between a rock and a hard place. Her two favorite people in the world: namely, your hands gripping Sana's hips, and Miyeon's tongue all over the aching little clit you'd just had your mouth wrapped around moments ago.
"And then?" you provide, hovering a kiss onto the beautiful round of Sana's ass. Her fucking cheek. You have to slap it. Just a little. And when you watch it ripple back and forth with your handprint there, a spot of pink already blooming, well, she has to be giving you a sultry look that demands to know when it is exactly that you are going to stick your cock inside of her, and it is absolutely just impossible to look anywhere else.
"And then," Miyeon supplies, "we're going get that beautiful cock in her ass so you can fuck her brains to mush."
"Thanks I guess, for the explicit permission," you scoff, and here you drop your lips, trail them into the crack of Sana's ass, up and down, teasing the taut stretch of her hole with the tip of your tongue.
"Someone has to take responsibility for-," she pulls on Sana's leg and stretches it forward, repositions her ever so slightly. She sucks Sana's clit into her mouth with an exaggerated sort of satisfaction.
You wait for Miyeon to continue, and then realize with the unshakeable notion: she isn't going to, because it's too damn much trouble. There is no reason to pull apart the premise and not the girl straddled between your faces. The only option is to follow her lead, and to worship Sana. To trace every crevice of her, lick between her ass and the sensitive, clenching heat of her pussy.
"Can we, like, take a timeout-" Sana's mouth is slurring into the skin of her forearm. Her upper thighs are quaking, quivering as you sink your teeth in. Her head's gone all heavy as a slutty little moan rings out and straight down her lungs.
And maybe the realization is setting in. You and Miyeon are going to fuck her until you all can't think - until you're nothing but primal urges, nothing but bodies with beating, pounding hearts; and every thought in Sana's head will be to the two of you; to Miyeon, whose hand finds the front of Sana's stomach and guides her pelvis into rolling forward and grinding into her mouth, to you, with your tongue lathering and lapping at her asshole, and running your hands around her hips until her whole body's shaking, "oh fuck, my god-"
(The writing is on the wall. You and Miyeon are going to fuck her until none of you know where you end, where the other begins.)
Sana tries again, and the question ends in a deep, rumbling, "don't you want, Miyeon, wouldn't you rather just really, fucking love, having his thick cock stretch you apart," - she swallows - and when she glances behind her back and finds you watching her, there is just pure, unadulterated arousal burning through her eyelashes, over the flare of her ass.
You catch the fucking bow of her lower lip wobbling as she adds, a little more pointed and a lot more determined, "when you're, fuck, begging and screaming for his load? To be his cumdump, his little bitch," it's like she's got her heart set, and her mouth can't stop moving fast enough, and "to do whatever he wants just because it makes you look and feel so damn hot?"
You can hear Miyeon's mouth smacking with the way it works, the way she is swallowing, gasping. You can hear the sound she makes when her mouth goes loose, and says, agreeing, "you're going to love it Sana, every god-damn-inch, you always do" and Sana is falling apart again into your grip, moaning, and then "it's so much better. All the stretch, that tightness. But she needs your fingers first.
You can hear Sana gasping too, dripping a mess into the place where her pussy and ass meet. Miyeon licks a wide strip from her core all the way up and kisses it. Lick. Kiss, lick - her hands pulling Sana closer by the hip - kiss, kiss, lick - pulling her mouth around your girl's clit. So close to the place in Sana's bubbly cheeks, where your mouth supplies long sucks and soft kisses - so close you can practically taste the scented flavor in Miyeon's lip gloss.
"I can't- shit. Hold on, guys," Sana whispers. It's her nails scraping against the granite. "You need to-" and then the loud, dull thwap of her knee knocking into the cabinet.
She's cumming again - this time, loud and guttural, but another really beautiful sound - her cunt pulsing hard into nothing while the air hangs in limbo, Miyeon's tongue circling her clit, your palms around Sana's beautiful, round ass. You're half convinced they'd be fine with being locked away in some tower. Forget the world and its obligations. Or, rather: let the world stop spinning; leave only this.
There is not much talking from then on.
Mostly whining, whimpers and pleas to: not stop, yes, there, yes, please, fuck, and Miyeon wraps her fingers around you - almost the same thing she did when you were pumping your cum into her quivering cunt earlier, asking, please, may I-?
Sana bends herself over the counter, like something instinctual. The perfect bend and arch in her spine, the bow of her knees and the press of her thighs. Inviting, pleading. You can feel the tingle, the stiff tension in the muscles, when you reach out and lift her ass; it gives so easily to your touch. Your palm, her cheeks. There's a beautiful flush as the pink starts to run, fade, and reappear along her back, and - fuck, okay, seriously-
Miyeon's there, kneeling next to you: stroking her fingers up your length. She’s kissing you too. It’s hard to think.
But the sound of the cap coming off the bottle comes like an alarm clock, pulling you out of a dream.
Miyeon sits on her heels, smiling into the press of your lips as the bottle she procured tips out. Clear, viscous and smooth into her palm. When it becomes a lot of dripping; she swirls it against your cock - her knuckles wrapped around you, running and twisting into every curve, sliding her whole grip with long, calculated strokes.
"I don't think she's in any condition to keep a tally," Miyeon announces, "so, why don't you decide?"
"Meaning?" you're panting; your brain keeps working to formulate complete thoughts.
"Meaning," she slips her tongue against yours, slides her teeth and draws into your lower lip, "you should totally pound her gorgeously tight little ass" - another kiss, mostly on your lower lip; almost a bite - "and then you should dump that massive load of yours" - a shudder rolls through her shoulder and leaves a whisper in her wake - "right inside mine."
There are about eight thousand words in the English language but what you say is, "fuck."
Because she's right: Sana is blathering the moment you stand up and let your hands reach around, grab hold of her full, rounded hips. She’s not in any state to protest or complain about matters of equality or correspondence. Her lips and tongue are barely even fit to say anything but yes-yes-please-anything, oh god.
Which, okay, whatever: of course, whatever the fuck she needs - whatever they need - you pull at her hips until it's there, your cock sandwiched between those full, warm ass-cheeks, the perfect amount of pressure to get you so fucking hot, and Sana's not shy about rolling her hips to keep you pressed to the surface, rocking into your balls until her cunt's making slick, wet, hungry noises and she's just one endless, groaning moan.
"Love feeling your cock," Sana mutters; and there is a, "please, fuck me, baby- please?" thrown in for good measure.
"Please do, you're like - you're like ridiculously gifted," Miyeon adds, always the right touch of caustic.
"-please."
Sana's eloquence is short lived, because the second you give her ass a squeeze and Miyeon presses her thumb against Sana's cunt, her voice catches on her throat.
She sounds perfectly winded, completely out of breath, a tiny, sexed-up growl running through the notes as she speaks to her reflection in the mirror. Miyeon laughs. She can hardly get her own shit together when you lean up and grab a breast in hand, or start leaving slow-but-steady bite marks along the back of her shoulder blades; like it's all-too funny when you pin Sana to the counter until she starts to beg in that please, please, please tone: when every syllable and gasp is hitched and short.
"She doesn't want gentle," Miyeon tuts, finding her place next to Sana, holding her chin in her hands and catching the expression on her face. She presses a thumb into Sana's mouth for no reason other than: they're so soft. Wet. Pink and full, parted around her fingertip. "Isn't that right, baby?"
Your gaze follows their hips, swaying. And from this angle: identical. The hair, the jawline, the arch of the throat and shoulders, the elegant twist and fold of their limbs, the eyes, the blush, the smile, and the legs. They don't have to look exactly the same: their presence is near identical - Miyeon's the cuter one, sure. It's been established, but fuck, the look on Sana's face as you spread her asshole with just a finger is fucking dangerous. You're going to lose your mind. Both the flat tummies and the beautiful breasts and their matching hard nipples - and the fucking two best asses the world has ever seen. A line up over the counter: Miyeon and Sana, side by side; their reflections looking at you in tandem, wearing these same expressions. The eyes begging, asking and insisting, the pouting lower-lip and the glassy sheen of their eyelashes.
You tell them: "how am I supposed to" - you run the thick-glistening head of your cock along the pucker of Sana’s tight ass, grind your hips into the friction - "focus when you two look at me like that?”
"Um, just give up," says Miyeon, grinning; and then, when your jaw snaps closed and there's the obvious shift of your hips as your length strains through your body's need and pulls you closer to that incredible, tight, dark hole: "god, there you go. That is so fucking hot."
So, it's just like this:
They watch each other. The mirror is right there; every want, every motion.
And then, yeah, a low and throaty, "is that it?" - Sana nods into Miyeon's hand and smiles, with just the slightest hint of something that could resemble a blush - "why we always come back to him? Because, really-"
"Mmm." Sana hums agreement, dazed and drunk in her words, the slow breath of air you push out of her chest as your cock starts to sink in; the deeper the intrusion, the lower your names become - just murmurs and sighs and sounds: "god, yes, god-"
Her pussy starts to drip onto the tiles, her slick collecting at Miyeon's knees as Sana takes you all the way: and you hold, once you're all the way in; once that gorgeous little puckered rim has stretched around your entire width; there's just the smell of the room; lavender and rose and citrus - Sana's endless arousal - and you hold, and hold on tight - and your muscles shiver as Sana draws the first rocking motion of her hips.
The smallest, lightest grind.
"Jesus fucking christ," you curse, because the heat around your cock is excruciatingly tight. A slow-burning, tingling-aching pleasure as the flesh inside Sana's ass moves up and down the length, drawing out inch by inch of skin - until your entire cock is nearly pulled out.
You're the one that drives all the way back in.
Sana gasps. She runs her hand through her hair. She tries her damndest to remember what words are, clearly coming up empty.
"Baby." Miyeon is kissing her forehead, her nose, her lips, and coos praises in her ear. She sinks her fingers into the curve of Sana's immaculate ass, pulling on the soft cheek, showing-
You are speechless. It's just: that next stroke. And another. Your cock slipping in and out with each pass, so easy once Sana sighs, licks her lips and leans into your rhythm, there, all at once and then faster. And she looks in the mirror, because of course; of course she watches Miyeon run her hand all over her front, the perfect tits and a pretty stomach - your thrusting keeps up until every thrust has her hips rolling forward and snapping back, chasing her own momentum; chasing that thick, hard, stretch of cock and that beautiful pleasure-pain as the force and pace rocks her, pounds her so her entire body has to curl against Miyeon's chest for support, so that she's going a little weak in the knees.
"How is he?" Miyeon's tone gets wicked in these situations, a lot less innocent. She gets excited, giddy. "Pretty, handsome, stupidly attractive," her voice picks up a playful lilt, and she gets you grinning - it's only the start. "And he's all yours. But how's the cock, huh? He's gaping your ass so pretty. Your hole is so fucking open around him. It looks incredible, doesn't it?"
Sana reaches for the side of her ass, presses her fingertips to her skin: pulls and splits a fingernail into the tender flesh where her ass and thigh meet - right above her cunt. You snap your hips into hers and watch your cock disappear. Every motion gives, slurps and sucks until you're hilted inside her.
"Feels, mmmm - fuck." Her chest is fluttering, every part of her so fucking flushed, her blood running beneath the surface so every single inch of her skin is saturated with her own need, her want.
"Feels so good," you growl, your vision gone dark around the edges. Miyeon's there, vaguely, smirking into Sana's jaw, licking at the sweat, scraping her teeth along the skin to bite down, pull- "she's so fucking tight. Gripping the hell out of my cock. Like, it feels unbelievable, you know."
"Babe," she cries, though you give her no respite - you use that little sliver of slack and pull out far enough that she'll know it when your cock is hammering into her ass, a little more aggressive, and you start with quick, hard pumps that echo throughout the room - not for your pleasure or hers: just to hear it, listen, you're driving up so far into that perfect, gorgeous ass that it sends her tits rocking and rolling with every bounce of her chest; her moans, her babbling incoherence, are, again - it's like a drug - and Miyeon's smiling. And also, getting herself off.
"So pretty," Miyeon says into her temple, "with his cock fucking open your ass." And she has her fingers swirling, swirling, in little patterns around her cunt, grazing over a wet clit, like the way you're pounding Sana's ass and dismantling her whole consciousness is absolutely the most arousing thing ever, like Miyeon could stay and watch forever, like Sana's the most beautiful person in the world, and Miyeon would be right here with her every second - whispering praise in her ears - "god, babe, if I could, I would never pull his cock out. You take him so well, don't you? You're just made for it. He could stretch you out over and over and we could, you know - be fucked silly - no thinking - for, like, forever. All day long."
Sana's fingers claw, gripping at the bowl of the sink, while Miyeon has her hand glued to her clit, playing herself.
Miyeon doesn't wait - but she asks anyway - and of course: she's leaning up, in, nuzzling Sana and saying: "yes?"
"So," is all Sana gets out before gasping, because the sight, it's too much to not let yourself feel a little power drunk, and there is a sudden thrust that practically turns the poor girl's voice into a croak. "Yes. Fuck - fuck-"
You don't really have any clue where this is coming from but: "Miyeon, here, take this cock. Come get what's yours you fucking cocktease," and, whatever - who needs thoughts? Your girlfriend's already bent over the bathroom counter, your fingers holding the smooth curves of her ass apart, her beautiful body opened all up and pink.
Miyeon ruffles her hair as she finds the perfect angle, knees knocked up against the drawers, and she's got more oil spread onto her own puckered rim.
You know your girls: Sana is desperate for your cock, Miyeon lives to be used.
"I love how fucking cock-drunk she gets," Miyeon laughs, and then - the moment you've shifted from one gorgeous hole to the other - her mouth slackens, her eyelashes flutter: "shit. Holy - didn't really realize- oh wow."
"Kinda distracting?" you tease, knowing full well you're just going to lose your own words; watching a gorgeous ass swallow your cock; being told to keep giving and take, just as much: the warmth in your own core, your cunt, clenching hard - an aching pulse - the excitement coursing through your veins and this, this whole sensation of being connected: your bodies, all-encompassing and present, three whole units, joining at the hips, being forced back together-
"-you feel fucking, so tight. That's how the fucking joke goes, right?" Miyeon manages: to talk, still, even with a cock in her ass and your teeth and tongue painting pretty marks up the ridges of her spine.
Sana is catching her breath, brushing her fingers through her hair staring wistfully.
"Gives you two so much to talk about."
"Now don't even start- I really like it, alright."
Sana gives her ass the worst slap but your balls hit her cunt on the following thrust. Miyeon's so fucking tight you can barely breath. And her laughter tinkers off into a very pretty string of obscene moans from the way your cock spears into her, all at once: the flat, wet, throbbing sounds of a tight ass taking a thick cock without stopping, stretching and sliding with an increasing ease the longer it goes on for, until you're snapping your hips so far forward they're slapping Miyeon's ass and gripping, squeezing the round shape of her waist; until the movements are just you, the heavy weight of your balls against the hot wet skin between her legs.
And god damn it, she's got to start with:
"Forgot how much you stretch me, Jesus - baby, it is a really gorgeous cock you've got," - and that is when it hits, and her hands fist up, trying to grab at something, anything: "oh my god."
"You are such a whore," Sana laughs, but not unkind, because Miyeon can only grin in response, with your cock pounding out into the red-hot, clenched walls of her asshole. And then: a nice, hearty sigh.
You find yourself asking, almost by impulse, "isn't she, uh, tight. God."
And, fuck: you were thinking how insane it is you two ever managed without the third party. How now, not fucking Sana and Miyeon's glorious, matching asses side-by-side would drive you fucking crazy, and maybe that's why it's really the best news. How when your cock slips out of one ass, and slowly nuzzles into the other - how when you all three watch the pretty faces in the mirror twist and turn into a look of such pure fucking bliss - you just sort of-
"Oh."
That's Sana: with Miyeon pressed chest-first over the marble counter, Miyeon's cheek and nose flush against her face, their arms twisted, bodies crossed at the wrist and wrist - their skin shiny-red with exertion. They're the closest possible position: mirror images of the other, and - with the slightest push -
And it's pretty. It's fucking, you know.
"Perfect," you groan. "This is it. Look at you, the both of you - god - it's like. It's not normal to be as beautiful as the two of you are. Right. So, you know-"
"Hey," Sana is a little faster on the uptake when you're fucking Miyeon and her ass within an inch of dying, "your face. You look like you're close, are you close baby?"
The blood's starting to sing in your ears. Miyeon's forehead keeps bouncing into Sana's - their sweat, mixing, her skin peppered and blotchy pink from where she's gotten a little bit lost in her own head, her hips moving of their own accord, her body tensing, relaxing. You can read all of her movements, recognize her signals: the way she moans louder than usual, the way her cunt trembles against you, the way her ass squeezes, holds, lets go-
You pull out. Just to keep yourself from blowing, just to pull on your balls, to look and watch the perfect view. And Sana reaches back - a warm hand wrapped around you.
You feel her palm wrap around your cock, coaxing another serving of oil - like she knows just how rough it's going to be to start again.
"Just," she pants, leaning into Miyeon so you have to rut around to find your way back, "until the end."
There's something so pleasantly mind-numbing about the moment when you ease your cock into the sweet-soft ring of muscles again and she's just stretching and pulsing and grabbing all around you. The way you keep going: she's holding herself, giving her asshole a squeeze, a stretch - her lips kiss a sound onto the side of Miyeon's shoulder and she nods, gasps, breathes out heavy and pained, like the rest: a total fucking rush.
You watch Miyeon lean further, a beautiful shift of balance between the two. Her hands clamp around the sides of Sana's thighs for support, and the longer you pound into her, the deeper your cock sinks, the closer the pressure becomes as their heads turn in, looking to the same place, their foreheads knocking, and-
"Knees," you growl. You're holding your cock in your first - demanding: "Get on your fucking knees."
Sana smiles first. Then Miyeon. And when the lipstick smears against their cheeks, you don't have it in you anymore to think clearly. The line between your imagination and your fantasy is so blurred: you want their mouths moaning into eachother. You want Miyeon to clean the taste from Sana's lips. You want those cunts grinding, their clits making contact, and for one of them - fuck-
So: "I need the both of you."
And it's your name falling off of Sana's tongue when the tops of her shins hit the tile floor - she's kneeling, she's pulling Miyeon by her waist until the three of you have converged into this beautiful, glistening, open-mouthed trio. Sana kisses Miyeon hard while you cum all over the image: the contrast of their soft, wet, hot tongues against one another while your harsh grip pumps along your slick, throbbing length. It feels like a knot unraveling, a tension snapping loose, your cum landing on their cheekbones, their temples, between their lips - It's a long, slow roll through the valley of your abs - Miyeon licking into Sana's panting mouth and swiping through the streak of white you just pumped out into her fucking hair; the messy collision of lips, swallows, tongues; the faint, slow sounds, the slickness-
"Look," she breathes. You can hear the way their words hitch when their fingers hook eachother, guiding through the mess across their skin, dipping through the sticky cum, circling the plush pout of their bottom lips; and it's Sana that grabs Miyeon by the wrist, bringing her hand forward; sucking, running her mouth in a lazy path all across the width, "that's all, fuck, I need to. Wanna taste all of it."
You just groan.
Miyeon is slumped into the lacework of Sana's limbs, swapping the tastes between her tongue and the space of their breath; while her own thumb caresses the raw, stretched opening of her ass. Sana whispers things, incoherencies, into Miyeon's hair: kisses at her temple, strokes the muscles of Miyeon's back. Feeling how they shiver, they heave, they fall - exhausted and flushed in the heat of one-another's embrace. She licks the words across Miyeon's cheek and follows with her nose trailing Miyeon's jaw, and your cum's smearing a streak onto Miyeon's bottom lip, before their tongues have tangled themselves into another messy, well-fucked kind of collision.
"Good girls," you mumble, kissing Miyeon's knuckles, and helping Sana to her feet.
Your legs are a lot less shaky than either the two of theirs, but it's okay, you pick Miyeon up and set her on the sink; and then turn on the tap for the both of them, since they'd need a wash and some salve.
"Now, what?" says Sana. She's smiling; a washcloth at the ready; some dribble of soap from the bottle.
Miyeon gives her a smirk from over her shoulder, turning away just enough to flip her hair; the ends brush across her jaw. It's a cute little quirk of the eyebrow; the upward twinge to the corner of the lip; it's a motion that knows every muscle, every detail.
"Depends," says Miyeon, sharpening up her tone just the littlest bit, "the bath looks like a tight fit for all three of us but," and there it is - the mischievous glint; the curve in her hips, her mouth, and, of course - you notice the way her eyes drop to the stiffness of your cock. The way her voice purrs, all light, but a lot more intent: "Did you see the shower? It's absolutely gigantic."
"I saw the detachable head," Sana throws out. A teasing little comment, one you remember - that sends a pretty deep shudder down your stomach and thighs. Your cock twitches, hard and - okay, good thing Miyeon booked the room for a week and then some. The view is pretty great: watching your cock get rock-solid in under five seconds. Watching them kiss the same knowing look, sharing the private joke. Watching their hips swing, watching them slide the glass door: Miyeon in front and Sana from behind.
It's in unison that they both turn over their shoulder and ask, "won't you help us test it out?"
"Yeah, yeah. I'll be right there." You shake your head, "so thirsty," even though, you know you're equally to blame.
-
It's that tiny whisper of "don't look at me like you don't have cum in weird places either, hm?" that Sana gives you, while Miyeon is washing her hair, rubbing and sliding along the locks. "I'll help you with the spots that are hard to reach, come here."
It's that little, meaningful, mischievous curl in Miyeon's lip when the water's pouring, and your breath falls across her skin. The way her hands reach out for you, even when Sana takes her chin and plants a firm, messy kiss across her mouth. It's the same gesture Miyeon's making, using Sana's forearm for support. How she runs the palm of her other hand along the back of Sana's thighs, slipping and pressing forward to guide, nudge. She pulls Sana onto her toes, aligning their bodies. It's in the little laughs they share, the wet smacks of lips, the soft little hums they make when tongues slip over, into the open.
It's here too, that you first ever get them confused, just a momentary slip up of "Sana, could you grab the towel-" or some equivalent, when you glance away at the perfect wrong moment and you're left just a little puzzled, still mostly entranced by the sight of the steam on the glass and their fingertips drawing patterns into it as they lean in for another kiss, or a moan-
"Oh," Miyeon says, delighted, "I'm supposed to be her, right?"
They're fucking-
Sana is less enthused. "Stop. I do not. Am not."
- identical.
"Look, I didn't mean-"
Miyeon laughs to cut you off and skips the argument. She winks, and somehow that makes it worse.
It's there too, the look of regret when your fingertips curl into the skin of her breast, your thumbs a tease against the rigid nubs of her nipples and the texture of her pretty stomach. They don't realize how much you really love their matching expressions. So, they don't mind the mixup, and besides: you just follow Sana's guiding hands and let your lips ghost-kiss, so gently across Miyeon's thigh. It's impossible to imagine a version that isn't one and the other, the two of them, here, with you: sharing kisses, offering the gentlest, slowest exploration, teasing and tugging a gasp of a response.
"Hey," Miyeon muses, "does that mean you'll keep your cock warm in me once we go to bed and feed me a steady stream of ice cubes between all the sessions, mm?"
Sana raises her head in faux offense and drops back into the comfort of Miyeon's thighs. "Jeez-us christ," Sana huffs; "one day with him and she thinks she's me. Have mercy."
"She isn't?" you ask.
Sana sighs. "Um. Not even close."
Miyeon beams at the both of you. She even runs her fingers through Sana's hair, doting - affectionate. "She'll come around to the idea eventually, don't worry. Until then I'm more than happy to take on the role. It can't be that hard, yeah? Just to be all - naughty-sexy-sweet-oh, look, a surprise, i’m actually ready to get fucked six ways to sunday-"
-you get an eyeful of whatever they are doing, this time just, fucking-
Sana only says, "it'll have to take an exceptional amount of patience on both your parts."
-gorgeous, lewd, completely fucking filthy.
"I got a lot, babe."
The second Sana opens her mouth, it's followed with: "pfffht."
It's just, who wouldn't give them whatever they want? Whatever they ask? There's a list out there: no doubt the both of them, gagging. Throat-deep. In their little skirts. Panties. Naked and straddled, just, across their hands. One, maybe. Or both all the same, or still a different preference. One behind the other and taking turns. Something - and this is important, here:
"Look," they say, eyes wide up at you and blinking - on the same fucking beat no less, "you can trust us, okay?"
(Gentleman and distinguished scholars: the list, by the way, only ever gets longer.)
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Tell me you love me
Pairing: f!reader x Sukuna Ryomen.
Word count: 2512.
Warnings: ANGSTTTTTT. An attempt at it at least lmao, let me know if I did a good job with it. A bit suggestive in the middle. Cursing. Mentions of cheating (mentions!!! No cheating in this house).
People often say that Sukuna would be obsessed with the reader/oc, but I think a relationship with him would be the hardest thing ever.
He doesn’t get the concept of being in love: at the start of your relationship he found out you were more tolerable than anyone else, he assumed that meant he liked being around you and went along with it. Of course he fell in love in the long run, but for him it’s embarrassing to admit it. He barely even said it when you asked him why he wanted you to move in with him.
It’s not like he isn’t obsessed with you: he’s obsessed with the way you just seem to get him, with the way you smile when he comes home from a long day at work, with the utmost kindness you treat people around you with and that he lacks completely. He’s mesmerised by you, by the curve of your hips, the brightness of your eyes, the softness of your hands on his body.
He doesn’t show it, though.
He’s used to being rough and redeems emotions as futile. Like he already said to you in a couple of your arguments, if you get him you get him, if not, he’s not explaining himself. Everything he does is thought of and automatically right, so why would he give you explanations?
But sometimes in relationships you need communication. He doesn’t see how intense it is to be next to someone who acts like he doesn’t care about what you want to share in your daily life. And again, he does care: if he could, he’d make a copy of you yapping and just listen to it on repeat while working. He loves how passionate you sound while talking about your hobbies, he finds the little tilt to your voice when you search for his approval adorable. He doesn’t see how difficult it is to be with him because he’s only been with you, and you’re so good at communicating and making him feel heard he doesn’t notice he’s not reciprocating your efforts.
And that means that he’s never the one who wants to resolve misunderstandings, because he thinks they don’t really exist. You were upset about your dish not coming out the way it was supposed to and instead of reassuring you it was still edible he straight up said it looked horrible and walked away? He’s not sorry. He spoke his mind, did he not? And why would you be sad about the truth?
You’re not weak, and you’re not shy either. Kind people are not necessarily stupid, and you’re living proof of that. He’d never be in a relationship with a weakling who doesn’t know how to raise her voice and stand her ground. You’re fierce in your own way, and you know how to manage his stubbornness 90% of the time. You don’t like being disrespected or ignored, and you made sure to talk his ear off whenever he did it. Not like he purposefully did it, anyway.
But as a person who understands emotions and feels emotions, sometimes being with him frustrates you. And it comes to a point where you debate on keeping being next to him or leaving him for good.
He’s not the only one who has hard days, but when both of you have one, the silence inside your house is deafening. You’re the one who usually starts up conversations, but your mind is occupied with other things. You’ve barely touched your food.
“What’s got your panties in a twist?” He scoffs at dinner. He doesn’t like you frowning, it wrecks his heart. It makes him want to destroy the face of whoever took the smile he lives for off your face.
You sigh. “You know how my parents said they were coming to visit us next month? Well-”
He’s silent. Fuck, when did she say this? He thinks. Probably one of those days where the thought of your thighs suffocating him all night plagued his mind last week. Fuck, he’d take a bite of them right now if you let him. Maybe he could suggest it. It could take his mind off of his own shitty day.
“Are you even listening to me?” You say sternly. He notices you kept on talking while his mind wandered, but he disregards it.
“Wanna fuck?” He asks instead.
You’re baffled. “Sukuna, what the fuck?”
“Damn, you could’ve just said no, brat,” he says rolling his eyes.
You get offended. “Don’t fucking ask me what’s wrong if you’re not going to listen to me.”
“Yeah yeah, you were probably going to talk about how worried you are and shit. I don’t care about that. If you don’t want to get my dick wet I’m going to rub one out,” he says waving his hand in front of your face and standing up from his chair.
You huff out a sarcastic laugh. “Are you serious?”
“Would you prefer me to find someone else to do it for me?” He bites, snapping his head toward you.
He sees you widening your eyes. If there’s a thing you don’t tolerate is cheating, or jokes about it. He knows it. He knows it, dammit. You’re fuming.
“You’re an asshole. Fuck you. I’m sleeping at Nobara’s,” you spit at him, grabbing the purse you left on the side of the table and rushing out the door, slamming it.
When he’s left alone in your shared living room, he keeps on looking at your front door. The silence is making his head hurt, the only thing he’s hearing is the sound of the door slamming. Did he overstep? Nah, you were probably overreacting. He shrugs and finally moves from his spot, going to put his dish in the sink. He leaves yours on the table, because maybe you’ll be hungry when you come home. You usually are after an argument. You’ll come back after a couple of hours saying you didn’t want to worry him too much, you’ll sigh saying this can’t keep on happening and that you’re tired of arguing, then he’ll hug you and everything will be alright. Just like it always is. You’ve never left like this, though.
He ruffles his hair; he’s angry at everything and everyone. You should’ve got that he’s the one overreacting, why didn’t you get him like usual? Why aren’t you still back after 3 hours? He hates feeling angry. He hates feeling tired. He hates feeling in general. Most importantly, he hates that the hands in his hair are his and not yours. He hates the way right now he’s craving your soft voice reassuring him in his ear, your sweet words covering him like a blanket; his head on your chest listening to your heartbeat while lying on your couch, reminding you that you’re there. You’ve always been there. There’s no one else for him, there’s never going to be one. He’d never cheat, you’re so stupid for getting angry about it. Why did you get so mad about it? Suddenly, he’s thinking about random stuff you said that he ingrained in his head.
I love you too, Sukuna. I’ll wait for you to tell me that without me forcing it out, mh? I’ll move in with you, sure, if you ask me so that nicely.
You picked this book because it reminded you of me? Thank you, baby. I love it. Both the book and the fact you thought of me.
Can you stop messing up my sock drawer? No, I did not hide your cigarettes there. But please stop smoking, I love when you taste like my lip gloss and not that disgusting shit you inhale. Give me a kiss so I can prove it to you. I’ll take your breath away way better than tobacco.
He smirks while on the couch, alone. You’re so cute. He wants to bottle up your laugh. Why aren’t you back still? His mind doesn’t stop, though.
You hurt me, Sukuna. Why can’t you notice?
I feel like you don’t care about me.
If I hadn't come to you, would you have come to me? Or would you just have ignored this whole argument and acted like nothing happened?
Am I just filling up a random space you leave open for a significant other or am I the significant other that’s capable of filling that void?
That night he dreams of you. The way you glared at him asking him if he was serious, almost like a warning before you lashed out. He dreams of the hurt that flashed in your eyes when he spewed nonsense. And when he wakes up, you’re still not back. Your unfinished plate is still on the kitchen table.
But he’s prideful, that’s why you’re the one that’s always trying to resolve arguments. Yes, you’ll come back. He’s sure of it. You always came back during the 3 years you've been together.
A week passes by and he's going crazy. You haven't contacted him at all, and he didn't text first. He lies to himself saying it's because he's leaving you some space, but the truth is that he's scared. What is he even supposed to say? Hey, I'm sorry, I miss you, please come home? That's pathetic. He's taking a shower when suddenly his phone rings. His heart skips a beat and he rushes out to check if it's you. Please, let it be you.
Instead it's Yuji, his brother.
Yuji: Hey, what happened with y/n? She asked me to come get some of her things for her. Is she sick?
Sukuna frowns. Then he realizes that- you're going to move out. You're going to break up with him.
He goes into panic mode. He never thought about the possibility of you leaving him. He thought you would come back, like you always do. Why would you leave him? Is it because you finally realized that you're better off with someone who knows how to express their feelings for you? Did you get tired of him? Have you already found someone else?
He finds himself knocking on Nobara's door in the next ten minutes. He ran, he's sweating and it's starting to rain. He's out of breath, and he gets his hands on his knees while he waits for you to open the door. He's not ready to let you go. He can't even fathom a life where he doesn't wake up to you trying to get warm between his arms, without you nagging him while watching a film together, without helping you bake cookies while laughing with each other. Without not being able to talk from how in love he is while looking into your eyes. And he knows that if you leave him he's never going to be able to live in his own house ever again, or walk down the street you always do together, or go grocery shopping and not thinking about you while looking at vegetables. You always said you liked vegetables and he always lied about liking them just to see you excited about cooking them together.
"Yuji, I didn't think you'd be this fas- oh," you open the door and your face falls when you see it's Sukuna. He snaps his gaze toward your face when he hears your voice. He missed it so much. You're so beautiful. He missed all of you. So much.
Neither of you move, you just keep staring at each other. This time, he knows he's going to have to talk first. For the first time, he realizes how hard it actually is to confront someone first. Do you feel like this every time?
"Come home," he says. "Please," he adds.
You look sad. "I don't think I'm going to, Sukuna. It's been more than a week and you didn't even reach out to say... I don't even know what. I know you don't say sorry. You never do."
Your words feel like knives. From where you're standing you're taller than him, and he has to look up to look at you. It's like he's in front of the pearly gates of heaven and an angel is making him confess all the wrong things he did, except in this scenario you're the angel and the things he did are just what he thinks about all of this. About you in general.
And you're right, he doesn't usually say sorry. The words get stuck in his throat and he just gapes up at you, still catching his breath. Pathetic.
You sigh, then go to close the door. You don't look at him anymore and he feels like he can't breathe, and not because of the run.
"I'll come get my things next week. Go home, you'll get wet," you say. And your voice is clear, you're not mumbling, you must have thought about this. He sees how hard you're clenching your jaw to appear resolute, your nails hurting your palms from how hard you're closing your hands. But you still manage to worry about him, worry about him possibly catching a cold from the rain. And he loves you. Fuck, he loves you so much.
"Wait," he manages to say. You look at him with longing. With sorrow.
And he feels like he's crying to the angel in his afterlife when he opens his mouth again, thorns in his throat getting tighter, suffocating him. But he doesn't cry here, in front of you, even if maybe you'd like it. You'd probably say that you appreciate him showing emotions, maybe tease him for it, but you'd like it. He'd kiss you while you're still laughing, saying you're stupid, and you'd continue laughing.
"I love you," he rasps out. The words feel so unfamiliar to his tongue, but so familiar to his ears. You always tell him you love him. "I'm sorry for being a shithead. Please don't leave me. I promise you I'll get better at this communication shit," he begs.
You still don't move, but he sees you getting softer.
"Go home, Sukuna. We'll talk about it when it's not raining," you utter.
"No, I don't fucking want to," he snaps. You're startled, and he cringes. He's really not used to all of this. He doesn't like scaring you.
"Fuck, I meant to say I want to get over it right now. I didn't want to scare you. I want you back, Y/N. Please, have me back. I'll get better for real," he says while getting progressively closer to you.
"You promise?" You ask, now shorter than him. You're a step of distance from each other.
"I promise, baby. I'll make you the happiest girl to ever exist," he tells you, looking at you intensely.
"Start by saying you love me again," you mumble, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head on his chest. He engulfs you in his own arms, inhaling the smell of your shampoo, then snorts.
"Sure. I'm in love with you, brat."
Being in a relationship with Sukuna is hard, but he loves you easily.
#sukuna jjk#sukuna ryomen#sukuna x reader#sukuna angst#sukuna x y/n#sukuna fic#jjk angst#jjk fluff#sukuna fluff#sukuna x you
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
You know all those Cults in Gotham?
Bet at least ONE of them could spring for both a Legit Magic User and a Cloning pod.
Because The Wayne's? Hearts of Gold. Long standing pains in the asses. Probably the only thing standing between this gods forsaken wasteland of a city and Their Dark Lord. For GENERATIONS no less!
It's sooooo obnoxious!
So they want to Curse Um dead. Just a good ol fashioned bloodline curse. Destroy um from within, etc. BUT! To do THAT? You kinda need a blood relative to sacrifice!
And Bruce is... well... rather infamously An Orphan With No Biological Kids (at that point).
So? What do you do? Make one, obviously. You send in some of your own on a Holy Mission. Honeypot that playboy! Get us a kid to sacrifice! Our God will reward you etc! But... FFS! What? Are brunettes not your TYPE or something?! Pretty lady! Throwing herself at you!!
TAKE THE BAIT!
But he DOESN'T. Because he's both really used to that behavior, as The Wayne Heir and a False Playboy, AND because? He's fuckin Batman. He can see through your schemes.
Okay.
Okay!
Plan B!
Get us some DNA. We'll CLONE the sucker. That should be doable, right?
........OH COME ON! How?!
Batman: [REDACTED] / Cultists: 0
Fuck it! This is impossible! How are we supposed too... *eyes drift over to the Wayne Family Private Graveyard* .......Idea? Ideeeeaaaa~! Someone get us a shovel!
So they, cultist bastards that they are? Fuckin rob a grave for some DNA.
OBVIOUSLY though, it can't be one of the more RECENT graves! He probably VISITS those! Watches them! No we gotta be SNEAKY! Get one a bit further back! Mwahahahaha! We're so brilliant! Our God is gonna give us SUCH a Good Grade in follower!
A thing that is both REAL and possible to achieve!
So, while a Weirdly FURIOUS Batman? Is just... VIOLENTLY breaking ALL of their bones? Cultist 17 is furiously digging like his life depends on it. Either somebody snitched or Batman was hunting them down! Either way?
Gotta! Get! That! DNA!!! *digs faster*
Ah HA! Got it!
Fucking SCATTER! Run you fools, RUN!!! *everyone bolts*
And AT LAST! They have it! Wayne DNA! Now? Pop that sucker into the machine and make us a baby! Too sacrifice! *relieved noises* Man, that was hard work you guys. But we DID it!
Except??
Theoretical Babies? And "Real, slowly forming in front of me and becoming a human child" type babies? VERY DIFFERENT psychologically. It's ONE thing to sacrifice a HYPOTHETICAL baby... but when you're the guy running and monitoring the Cloning machine? Watching it slowly form and come together into... into a CHILD?
You start asking questions of yourself. Of God.
Of what, EXACTLY, you are willing to do.
What lines you find yourself unwilling to cross.
And yeah, your life was SHIT before the cult. Yeah, you were alone. Adrift. Without purpose. Angry at the world for all of its ugliness and failings. But... sitting, alone, in a dark room? Nothing but the steady hum of machines and the cool light of that pod? You are left with nothing but time... and your thoughts.
And the baby.
The one... the one YOU made.
Almost... he's almost like a son, in a way. Your son. Floating there, innocent and unknowing. Destined to be born, only to die painfully, for a cause he could not even begin to understand. Because he's too young. Too small. Just... just a baby.
The baby YOU made.
Doubt seeps in like mist. Creeping into the cracks forming in your faith. Surely there's another way, right? Why not save up for a better magician? Or... or hire a hitman? Why involve a child? Surely... surely your God would not WANT this, right? Or if He did! Surely, he would want the boy to be able to CHOOSE, right? A noble sacrifice, for the cause?
The pressure builds. Batman is tearing the city APART looking for your fellow Believers. Leadership is pressuring you to get "It" ready all ready.
He's not an "it".
They are dismissing your questions. Threatening and posturing, as you grapple with your faith. Where? Where is the COMMUNITY that you joined? The camaraderie? Every day, Believers are being torn down. The faith has lost so many!
How can this be WORTH it?
Your faith is slowly, cruelly, strangled in your chest. A death, by ten thousand silences, and ten thousand more cruelties.
Your son is ready.
You do not tell them.
The Clone of Bruce Wayne's great-grandfather is small, but healthy, in your arms. A tiny warm body, with a strong beating little heart. You call the police. Leave your phone, call running, on the desk. No one thinks to stop you, as you calmly walk out the back door.
Why would they doubt?
You are Faithful.
You drive. Pray to a God you have lost faith in, beg forgiveness for what you do now. Your beat up old junker of a car makes decent time, as you leave Gotham. Your son, asleep in a carefully made nest of blankets, on the seat next to you. You drive. You keep driving.
Past towns.
Past cities.
Out of the state.
Stopping only to feed your son and fuel your car. You... you can not bring yourself to care about what will happen to you now. You know they will find you. Know this is the end. But something ancient burns in your chest. A caring you never thought was REAL.
You are afraid.
But you will not let them harm your son.
Finally, a town. Far from Gotham. Quite and cheerful. It calls to you.
Here. It... it has to be here.
You find the hospital. Tears choking you. There is a place to drop of children. You've seen them before. How strange, that now you stand before it and HURT. Your arms not listening to your command. You... you have to do this. You HAVE too.
He is just a baby.
He is your son.
You have to keep him safe. And... and that can not be with you.
You gently put your baby boy into the drop off. Press the buzzer. And then? You make yourself walk away.
Get back in your car, and drive. The gun in your glove box will insure they can never pry from you, what you have done. Where he is. He is safe now. He has to be. You... you did your job. As his father. You made sure he was safe.
You can barely see the road, through your tears.
You take your secrets to the grave.
And Danny? He grows up. Is adopted young and never knows different. Both a Fenton and a Wayne. Knowing only one of these, to be his. But... that Wayne? Was a damn fine man. A pillar of his community and a champion of the people.
Got tossed more then a few blessings, in his life.
They weren't the STRONGEST. But they added up. And more importantly? Were hardly the refined magics of the more powerful. They were cast onto "Him". By blood and bone, more often then not. Which was all well and good!
When there was only ONE of "Him".
Cloning technology did not exsist. So why would you word carefully against it? Danny becomes a VERY lucky boy. Survives many things he should not. In fact, the kindness and hard work of his original? Gifted back in magically powered well wishes? By this, he survives something NO ONE could possibly expect him too.
It saves his life.
His template would be quite pleased, knowing that. That his life of good deeds, saved the life of the child he never got a chance to meet. That it protected his children, from even beyond death.
And in Gotham? At long, long last. The program Bruce made in his helplessness and despair, to search EVERY child until the child made of his bloodline was found? Spits out a match.
A Watchtower engineer.
Daniel J. Fenton.
@hdgnj @hypewinter @lolottes @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @mutable-manifestation
#dpxdc#dp x dc#dc x dp#dcxdp#dc x dp prompt#danny phantom#that baby is my great grandpa! au#spice up the cloning au#minji's writing
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
no clue (l.mk)
mark lee x fem!reader
wc: 11.6k
summary: mark realizes how long it’s been since he’s gotten laid, immediately heading to a party. he’s quick to find you, rushing into a room without really thinking about it. except now, he can’t stop thinking about you. how bad is it really if he ends up falling in love with his one night stand?
warnings: strangers to lovers, smut (MDNI), fluff, mild angst, one night stand, miscommunication and communication, reader is cautious, oral (both receiving), missionary, desperation, dirty talk, dry humping, softdom!mark, sub!reader
heavily inspired by tongues - the frights
part two to the how it all goes series!
mark doesn’t think he’s a person who acts on instinct.
he believes he at least has some self control. he won’t go out if he knows he has work to finish, knows his limits, and has pretty good time management if you ask him. he can control himself whenever he needs to, but he has his off days. everyone does.
which is why he can’t really explain how he ended up between your thighs.
he can hear the squelch of his fingers in your cunt, his mouth wrapped around your clit as he moans into you. your hands are threaded into his hair, moaning out his name, still unfamiliar on your tongue. he’s never really jumped into something like this before, but he can’t say he doesn’t like it. he really can’t, thoughts filled with only how good you taste.
he can feel how your thighs shake around him, trying to close shut when his fingers reach your sweet spot. he pries your legs apart, moving his mouth away from you to whine out, “need you to stop moving so much, wanna keep tasting you.”
he makes eye contact with you as he licks a stripe up your cunt, watching how your eyes flutter shut at the feeling. out of the people that mark’s been with, he thinks that you might be the sweetest person he’s tasted. he wouldn’t mind being in between your thighs, wouldn’t mind hearing all your pretty moans.
your hands make it to his hair, threading through the strands as he eats you out. you tug on it when something feels particularly good. he grunts against you, mouth sucking on your clit as the stinging pain makes his blood pump a little faster. all that he can hear are the lewd sounds of your cunt, the moans of his name, and his own breathing. “m-mark, i’m close. please don’t stop, you’re doing so good.”
he can’t slow down now, adding a third finger as he licks at your clit. he watches as your back arches, suddenly too aware of his dick straining against his pants. he tugs you close to his face, “need you to cum. want you to cum all over me so i can fuck your pretty pussy.”
he watches you nod, your hips rolling to meet his face as you moan out his name, hands gripping onto his hair as you cum. he hears himself let out an embarrassing moan, affected by your sounds and taste. he doesn’t stop his ministrations, helping you ride out your orgasm.
if he could, he’d spend all day here, licking up your cum as you cry out his name. with a tired laugh, you push his head away, almost enjoying the sad look on his face. your hand moves to cup the side of his face, “you did so good, mark. you want me to help you?”
his eyes widen a little, almost as if he wasn’t expecting anything to happen. you sit up, hands moving to unbutton and unzip his pants. his hands hover over yours, shaking as he watches you. “y-you’ll… you’ll suck me off?”
you pull his pants down to his thigh, “well, you did say earlier that you wanted to fuck me so… would you like to fuck me?”
he blinks at you, “really?”
“of course,” you laugh, “i know how bad you want to, and i know i want it, too. probably even more than you.”
you watch him scramble off the bed, taking off his pants as quickly as possible. he leaves his boxers on, making it back between the space between your thighs. you watch him slowly take his boxers on, watch how his cock slaps against his stomach. he’s leaking, and you wonder how exactly he’s held back for so long.
he strokes his length a few times, enjoying how you squirm around in impatience. he thinks you look cute like this, the thought dancing around in his head. he can’t keep himself away from you for too long, shifting closer to you. he rubs his length across your slit, letting your slick coat his cock.
your breath hitches when his tip hits your clit, mark leaning down to kiss you. you can taste yourself on his tongue, and you can feel how his hips continue to grind against your cunt. you can only take so much before you start begging, “mark, please. need you to fuck me already, need to feel you inside me already.”
he likes how pretty your voice sounds begging for him. it pushes him over the edge, moving to line himself at your entrance. he can feel how wet you are, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. he lets out a low groan as he pushes in, your tight walls taking all his thoughts away.
it’s been too long for him, fighting against himself as he goes as slowly as he can. he’s patient, even as your nails dig into his back. you’re letting out small whimpers, getting used to the stretch his cock offers you. he waits for you to get used to the feeling, even if his cock is twitching inside you.
when you tell him he can move, he experimentally thrusts against you. you feel too good, and he’s not sure how long he can last, especially with how long it’s been for him. at your whines, he tries setting a steady rhythm for you. his hips only stutter a bit when you clench around him, his eyes fluttering close.
you throw your head back when mark hits your sweet spot, and mark needs to hear all the pretty sounds you just made again. he grinds his hips as close as he can, eyes threatening to shut at how deep he feels inside you. his eyes watch where you two are connected, a thumb moving to your neglected clit.
one of your hands moves to grope at your own boob, rolling a nipple in between your fingers. mark needs to help you, he decides, quickly swatting your hand away as he moves his face to the valley of your chest. he takes a nipple into his mouth, hand rubbing over your other boob.
he’s all over you, every part of his body moving to make you cum. you lay there, practically sobbing at how good he’s making you feel. “keep going, mark! please don’t stop, need you so bad!”
your words make him dizzy, thrusts slowing to grind into you. he can feel how your slick has coated his thighs, how messy this all is. he doesn’t care, not when he gets to see you like this under him. you’re crying out for him, tears pricking at your eyes from how good he’s making you feel. he wouldn’t mind getting to see this everyday.
the thought quickly leaves him when you tell him you’re about to cum. your nails scrape along his back, surely leaving marks for him to see tomorrow. you’re clenching around him tightly, his hips fighting to keep moving. most importantly, you’re calling out his name so sweetly, almost as if he’s the only thing you can think of.
“y-yeah, you’re gonna cum all over my cock?” he stutters, “gonna make a mess all over me?”
“yes, please, mark, please keep going!”
it doesn’t take long for you to cum. he’s doing everything right, hitting every spot he could reach. you let go, a loud whimper leaving you as you roll your hips against him. he’s gripping onto your thighs, leaving bruises against your skin. you’re happy that you said yes to him, happy that you could have probably one of the best orgasms of your life.
mark cums soon after you, the image of you too much for him to handle. he groans out a fuck, enjoying the warmth of your pussy before pulling out. he jerks himself off quickly, noting how your bleary eyes watch him. he cums all over your pussy, watches how it drips down near your clenching hole.
he’s breathing heavily at the sight, hears your tired cry as you lay against the pillow of the bed. he’s not sure if he should go get something to clean you up or if he should just stay here with you. he’s sure he doesn’t want to leave just yet, enjoying the look of you so fucked out because of him.
not because he thinks you look pretty, even more so like this.
his thoughts are cut off by the way you call his name. there’s a smile on your face, and despite being tired, you tug at his arm to bring him down by you. he faces you, a pretty blush on his face. he never really knows how to end these kinds of things, not that he really has experience to think about.
it doesn’t feel awkward, but mark can’t stop thinking of too many things at once. he can’t just leave you like this, but wouldn’t it be weird to sleep next to you? you aren’t exactly a stranger, but he can’t call you a friend, or even an acquaintance. he barely knows you, knows your name and maybe one class you're taking. his mind itches to know more.
your hand brushes the stray hairs out of his face, and he realizes how much he likes the feeling. your hand twitches at your side, slowly reaching out to him to make him wrap an arm around your waist. it’s quiet when this happens, mark trying to decide whether he should say something or not.
you beat him to it, “you did so good. i’m glad i got to do this with you, mark.”
he’s silent for a few seconds, fingers moving up and down at your side, “i’m happy, too- i mean, like, doing this with you.”
you hum out, letting the conversation fade out as you snuggle into the sheets. you don’t mind that his arm is still wrapped around you as you try to sleep. you try not to pay attention to the satisfied sigh he lets out once he settles into the sheets. you’re not sure if you’ll see him again, and even if you do, you know you probably won’t be talking to him.
either way, you’ll be gone by the morning.
mark can recall everything he did last night once he wakes up. it all flashes in his head before he’s fully conscious.
he remembers walking up to you, probably too confident as he flirts with you. he remembers your smiling face as you lead him into an empty room, locking the door behind you as he presses you against the wall. he remembers how soft your lips were against his, how sweet you tasted, and how nice you felt wrapped around him.
most importantly, he remembers how good it felt to sleep next to you, how nice it felt to have you wrapped in his arms. but now, as he fights off sleep, he sees you’re not there next to him. he shouldn’t be surprised, it was only supposed to be a one time thing. but he can’t help how cold it feels in this bed that isn’t even his.
for just last night, this room was something that was shared between the two of you. now, it’s just a random room that he woke up alone in. well, he shouldn’t be too alone here knowing haechan is probably crashed out at this now quiet frat house. he gathers his clothes that are scattered across the room, slipping them back on.
they feel different now, suddenly too dressy for the morning. the door's unlocked when he gets to it, quietly opening it as he peers out into the hallway. there’s no one there, mark tiptoeing down the stairs as he looks around for haechan. as expected, he’s sleeping almost too peacefully on a stranger's couch. there’s other people there too, but mark can’t help but laugh at the sight of his friend.
he doesn’t bother being gentle with haechan, quickly shaking his shoulder to wake him up. haechan groans, and mark contemplates if he should just throw water on him. as if haechan could hear his thoughts, he shoots straight up, gasping for air like he just got revived from being dead. he looks at mark with wide eyes, practically gasping for air.
“are you alright, dude?”
“i’m… fine? i had the craziest nightmare that i was about to go down a waterfall.”
“how is that even-” mark just sighs, deciding not to question him, “let’s go already. let’s leave these poor people alone.”
haechan stumbles a bit when he gets up, dramatically letting himself cling onto mark’s shoulders. they walk about the house as if nothing happened, as if mark didn’t meet you in there. he drags out haechan, noticing how he’s staying surprisingly silent. mark doesn’t mind walking back to campus, not minding how pretty the blue sky above him looks.
suddenly, haechan says, “are you hungry?”
mark mulls on it before speaking, “i guess i could eat. you won’t get, like, sick or anything?”
“no,” haechan hums, “i’m actually feeling pretty good right now. i do wanna ask how you feel.” haechan raises his eyebrows suggestively at mark, causing mark to pull away from haechan, almost letting him fall to the ground.
“you are so weird.”
haechan laughs at that, “you’re acting like you won’t tell me all about it once we start eating.”
mark doesn’t deny it, trying to change the subject, “you’re paying, right?”
“no way! i took you to that party, you owe me!”
mark ends up begrudgingly paying for both their meals. he probably would’ve paid either way, he thinks as he watches haechan gulf down his food. mark is slower, taking a few bites as he picks at his food. he can’t stop thinking about what you might be doing, can’t stop thinking about the fact that you’re still lingering in his mind.
without realizing, mark asks, “how bad is it if i’m still thinking about who i slept with last night?”
haechan looks up at him, his cheeks full with food. he takes his time to contemplate mark's words, chewing slowly on his food before speaking. he clears his throat, “well, what exactly are you thinking about? like, sexually, or…” he whispers at the end of his sentence, “romantically?”
mark feels embarrassed when he realizes it’s both. he could just lie and say it was the first option, but he can’t bring himself to.
haechan doesn’t need to hear mark say his answer when he can see mark become more and more red. he knows mark is more of a relationship kind of guy, but really? he points his fork at mark, and in the nicest way possible, he questions him, “well, how much do you know about her?”
mark has to think about his answer. he’s never really seen you on campus or at any of the parties he’s been to. he knows your name… and how you look. turns out he doesn’t really know too much about you, but it feels more than that to mark. mark huffs out an answer, “not a lot, actually. but i do want to get to know her more! i feel like, like we really could’ve hit it off if it were any other time…”
“are you sure you’re not in love with her pussy or something?”
mark quickly shushes haechan, “why would you say that out loud where anyone could hear us?”
haechan brushes off his words, “it’s just… what if that was supposed to be the only time that you guys were meant to be together. you can’t just force someone to talk to you.”
“but-”
“nope. one, you don’t know her that well. two, if you do ever talk to her, given if she even wants to talk to you, what are you gonna say?”
“you know,” mark starts, really trying to come up with anything, “ask how she’s been?”
haechan threatens to throw his crumbled napkin at mark.
mark stares at his half eaten plate, not really knowing what else to say. he’s never seen you before, and last night was quite literally the first time he’s ever seen you. he’s not sure how he hasn’t before, not when you were so easy to pick out of a room full of people. maybe haechan is right, if he really wanted to know you, he should’ve already tried before.
he'll convince himself it was just a one time thing.
when mark came up to you at the party, it was the second time you had ever seen him.
he still looked the same as how he did when you first saw him during your freshman year. he still looks a bit boyish, but somehow obviously more grown up. you saw him slowly walk up to you after apparently getting a pep talk from a friend. you had quickly pieced together who the two were, and how exactly you remembered them.
it was one of your first weeks of college. you were hanging out with a friend, quietly talking outside the room that your class was about to be held in. you didn’t want to be late, but you also didn’t want to be the first person walking in there. that was embarrassing, but it was also embarrassing just standing out here like you wouldn’t be entering in a few minutes.
you and your friend were sharing hushed whispers to one another, probably talking about an upcoming assignment you really didn’t want to do. you watch your friend pull out her phone to mindlessly scroll before class starts. you were about to do the same when you heard loud voices quickly pass through the hall.
the voices are too loud for the quiet hall, cringing lightly before you hear thundering footsteps coming your way. in a flash, you see a guy dragging another guy down the hall with him. you hear stop pulling so hard! and a hurry up! as they pass by you. you make eye contact with the one being dragged, his eyes looking apologetic for how loud they’re being.
as soon as they arrive, they’re fast to go. you hear your friend laugh next to you while you just shake your head in disapproval. you click your tongue before talking, “we’re in college and there’s men still acting like children.”
she giggles at your words, “i think they might just be like that.”
“do you know them?”
“not really, no. i just know their names. the guy who was doing the dragging is always loud like that. i guess the other guy gets caught up in it.”
you nod at her words. you hear the elevator doors open and you wonder if the two entered in together, praying the ride would be fast to whatever event they were late to. you let out a sigh, “the one being dragged looked at me like he was sorry.”
when she laughs, she bumps into your side, “i think his name is mark. i’m pretty sure they’re roommates.”
with a frown, you add, “i hope they’re late to wherever they’re going,” your friend laughs at this, “people are starting to get in class, let’s go.”
now, the second time you meet mark, it feels like you’re being properly introduced. he comes up to you, only slightly faltering when you look at him with a smile on your face. you wonder if he remembers you all those years ago, wonders if he remembers feeling sorry for you. he probably doesn’t with the way he tries flirting with you.
it’s not like you don’t expect it, knowing he had to go through a whole pep talk before this, but you still feel surprised. he doesn’t look like someone who would be this forward, but you can’t say you didn’t like it.
he asks for your name (proving he really doesn’t know you), and asks how the party is going for you. cocking your head slightly, you answer his questions, noticing how his eyes dart down to your lips occasionally. it doesn’t take long for you both to head up to a room together, full of giggles and laughs.
you didn’t realize how much you would be into this, into him. he was desperate, hands all over you as he groaned into your mouth. you thought you would have to beg him to eat you out, but he was the one practically whining out to have a taste of you. it’s even better once he starts fucking you, taking care of every single need of yours before his own.
it’s over faster than you want it to be. he looks a little panicked afterwards, confused on what exactly he should do. you wonder how often he does this, if he even does this at all. you brush it off by asking him to come lay down by you. he presumably pushes all his worries away to lay behind you, arm tentatively wrapping around your side.
you wonder if you pushed it too far by asking him to sleep with you like this. you both could’ve left the room together, parted ways for the night, and probably never see each other again. it makes you think if this was all he wanted with you. sex. it’s not that you were hoping for more, but mark seems like a nice guy.
you have a quick conversation, thanking him for tonight. it feels too formal, almost as if you were ending a date. this is mark, someone you don’t know well and have never talked to. you don’t know why you push the hairs out of his face or why you let him wrap his arm around you. you should keep distance between you two, but you don’t.
it’s hard to explain what you really want right now, but all you can do is fall asleep in his hold.
you wake up earlier than mark, watching his chest rise and fall.
you find yourself cuddled into his side, using his arm like a pillow. you get up quietly to not disturb him, picking up your clothes from the night before. you hate staying at a random person’s place, but what else can you do in a situation like this. you find your phone, looking at your friends messages saying how she’s back at your shared apartment.
you send her a quick text that you’re heading back soon. you wonder what she’d say about all this, wonder if she remembers your encounter with mark from all those years ago. you take one last look at mark, sleeping peacefully on the bed, unknowing that you’re about to leave him there by himself.
you ponder on leaving your phone number for a few moments. nothing bad could come from it, but you don’t know if he would even want to see you after this. you bite your lip as you unlock the door, slipping out into the quiet frat house. you spot his friend passed out on a couch, a few others sleeping on the floor or other seats.
you debate on walking back to your apartment, but you’re sore everywhere. you mentally curse out mark as you try to find an uber, wincing when you look at the prices. you try to convince yourself that it's better than walking, better than waiting for the bus, and better than having to hear everyone else talk.
once your ride arrives, you're quick to hop in. it’s quiet for the most part, the radio playing a song you’re not too familiar with. you mull over every decision you've made within the past twelve hours, and as much as you want to regret every single one, you can’t. it was a good night, you met a good person, and you got good sex out of it. what’s there to complain about?
you can’t help but wonder how mark feels.
a few days pass, nothing really exciting happens.
you have class, you go to your job, and with the free time you have, you study or hangout with your friends. today’s a day where you've been out for a while, your friends dragging you out of your apartment and away from all the stress of a job and studying. even though you complain, they’re quick to see the smile on your face once you’re actually out.
there’s few times where you hang out at the campus. after your freshman year, you stayed close to the areas around your apartment. the campus felt too far and suddenly felt like it was only there for business. but your friends insist on eating on the quad. it’s a nice day, and you can’t really say no to eating outside with warm weather and friends around you.
you don’t know what possesses you to look over your shoulder, but you do. you regret it immediately, noticing mark walking down a sidewalk to wherever he’s going. you’re not sure why you stare for so long, it’s not like you want to know where he’s going or who he could be meeting with. he does look nice when he’s dressed casually, though.
you realize you might’ve stared for too long once you see him turn back at you. it’s quick, but he does a double take, realizing it’s you that’s staring at him. you quickly whip your head back to your friends, internally panicking on what you should do. you have about twenty seconds to decide if he does come over.
this would be your first time seeing mark after the party, probably your second time seeing mark on campus at all. does he even want to say hi? and what will your friends think? they’ll wonder why you’re trying so hard to ignore the man that is currently walking towards you. you don’t really want to talk about it just yet.
you realize you might have to when you hear mark call out your name. you take a deep breath, slowly turning around to give him a small wave. you can feel the gazes of your friends fall onto you without even having to look at them. there’s a soft smile on his face, hands wrapping around his backpack straps as he gets closer.
“uh, hey, how are you?” he asks a little awkwardly
“i’m doing fine? how are you?” you can hear your friends whisper behind you as you feel the back of your neck go hot.
“i’ve doing fine, i’ve just… been thinking about you. you kinda just, like, left that morning.”
you sigh, fingers moving to play with the grass under you. is he really thinking about that night? does he expect you to want to do it again? you shrug, “yeah, i didn’t really know what else to do. i didn’t want to stay there all by myself.”
“oh, sorry. i could’ve… walked out with you- i mean, if you had asked.”
“no, it’s okay. i know your friend was still there.”
he nods, “yeah, i know. but, um, if you’re not busy soon, then can we hang out? just us two?”
you’re a little shocked that he can just ask that so casually. it’s like you’ve both been friends for so long, as if it was always normal for him to ask the girls he meets up with to hang out. in another world, you would probably say yes to him, but you can’t think of a good reason to tell him yes. “mark,” you start, “i’ll be busy this whole week so… i’m not sure if i’ll be able to.”
he takes a few moments to take in your words. he stares at you before finally staring at the floor. he nods slowly, offering you an apologetic smile before speaking, “that’s fine, i just wanted to see-” he takes a breath, “wanted to see what you would say.”
you let out a small sorry, and he takes it as a sign that it’s time for him to go. he takes a few steps back, watching as you give him an apologetic look. “i’ll, uh, maybe see you again? soon? i mean, like, if you ever want to.”
you feel a little awkward as you try to avoid any more eye contact with him. “yeah. i’ll see you, mark.”
he takes a few more steps back before fully turning around. you look at him out of the corner of your eye, watching as he spares you a few more glances. he looks a little disappointed, but he doesn’t try to force you into what you don’t want to do. that’s a good thing about him, you think.
you let out a heavy exhale, now fully facing your friends. when you notice the silence among the group, you look up. everyone is staring at you with smiles on their faces, their faces practically begging for you to say something. you bite back a laugh as you try to ignore it, but one of them speaks up, “what even was that?”
you huff, “just… someone i met the other night.”
if you ever meet mark lee again after this, you might just have to curse him out for having to awkwardly explain to your friends what just happened.
it’s another day when you're back on campus.
there’s no friends this time around, no way for you to relax. you have a class today, getting upset with your past-self for thinking you could wake up this early for a class. you usually try to grab a quick snack beforehand to keep yourself awake. you make your way to your campus’s coffee shop. it might be 50/50 on whether it’s good or not, but it’s closer than anything else.
you think you deserve a sweet treat, a chocolate muffin that would probably cure every single thing that’s happened to you these past weeks (that also somehow all lead back to mark lee). you don’t really expect anything but a long line of other students waiting to order, but there you see the man himself, mark lee, sitting at a bench.
you’ve learned your lesson from last time, quickly moving out of his sight and choosing not to stare at him. you make your way to the line, trying hard to ignore him. your eyes subconsciously move to look at the side of his face. he’s wearing glasses, hanging low on his nose as he scrolls through his phone.
you wonder if he’s waiting for his friend or if he’s just waiting for his class to start. there’s an impulse to walk over to him and make conversation, smiling as you ask about his morning. you’d be willing to be a bit late to your class if it meant to talk to him more. you’re just not sure he’d feel the same way.
you watch as he looks up from his phone, rolling his head around to stretch. before he can catch you staring you look away, straight ahead to the menu in front of you. you have to wonder if you’re making this hard for yourself on purpose. you don’t have to think about him so much, especially if he might not even be thinking about you.
well, he’s thinking about you, but probably not in the way you’re thinking about him. it makes you sad, you could’ve at least been friends with him. even now, as you stare at him a few feet away, you could easily eat your snack with him. you could laugh at how nervous he gets, could get him to warm up to you as he gets more comfortable.
but you don’t.
you pay for your muffin, wait for it to be handed to you, and take a whole separate route to your class. before you walk out of the building, you take one last look at him, watching how he stares off into the distance. you don’t want him to see you, quickly walking off away from him.
what you miss is mark staring at you as you walk away. there’s a small smile on his face, seeing you rush off. he doesn’t care that this is the second time he’s seen you, doesn’t care that you don’t even notice him. he likes seeing you like this, so different than how you presented yourself at the party, not that it’s a bad thing.
he wishes that he could go up and talk to you, but he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. when he walked back to his apartment after the day he saw you with your friends, he decided that you probably weren’t interested. as much as he wants to talk to you, it’s better to give you your space. he just wishes he never ruined his chances with you.
he checks the time on his phone, wondering how haechan could be so late. before he can pull up his messages with haechan, he shows up. there’s a lazy smile on his face as he walks down the hall. mark rolls his eyes as haechan gets closer. haechan only chuckles, slugging an arm around mark’s shoulder. mark is quick to take it off, earning a quick whine from haechan.
wordlessly, they start moving to their shared class. mark doesn’t bother to ask haechan how he’s doing, clearly having a nice morning if he decided to show up so late. haechan laughs when he sees mark so annoyed, patting his shoulder before he speaks, “i have good news, you’ll never guess who i saw.”
mark hums disinterestedly, knowing it was probably someone he saw doing something crazy at a party.
“i saw your girl walking by just now.”
mark's head snaps towards his friend, haechan laughing at how wide mark’s eyes are. haechan picks up his pace, “that’s not even the best part. i said hi. and she knew who i was.”
mark furrows his eyebrows, “why would you do that? did she… did she say anything else?”
“i just asked if she had any plans, but she just shrugged and said she was probably gonna go out this weekend with her friends.”
mark smacks his lips as they near their building. he pushes the door open, air slapping against his face as they step in. he lets out an exasperated sound, “well, do you know, like, where she’s going?”
haechan coos at mark, “you’re so sweet, such a sweet boy. she didn’t say, but that doesn’t mean we can’t try to find out, right?”
mark is deep in thought. if he did find you, and that’s if he really tried, would you even want to talk to him? he’s not sure if you want that kind of thing with him, but he wonders if he can still try. if you brush him off, then he realizes that’s probably it. he could respect your opinion, as long as you tell him what you want.
before they enter their class, mark stares at haechan, “right, there’s no harm in trying.”
mark feels nervous tonight.
it doesn’t feel like the last time he went to a party, more confident and driven. now, he has a goal in his mind: to find you. he thinks it’s funny how nervous he’s being, it’s not even guaranteed that he’d see you again, not guaranteed that you would want to talk to him. if it doesn’t end up working out, he’ll just use tonight as a de-stressor, forcing all thoughts of you away.
haechan helps get his mind off of things on the way there. he doesn’t bring you up, chooses to talk about other mundane stuff. it would help more if mark didn’t know that haechan was just trying to distract him. it does make him realize how good of a friend he’s been through all of this.
when they get close to the place, haechan has to stop himself from laughing at how nervous mark looks, “you know she might not even be in there, right? it’s literally a saturday night, she could be anywhere.”
mark lets out the breath he’s been holding, “yeah, i guess.”
“do whatever you want tonight,” haechan huffs, “this is about you.”
with that, they enter the house. it’s a lot smaller than the frat, people all around mark as he enters. mark tries to scan the room, but can’t quite seem to catch you. you’re easy to spot, so that tells mark that you might not be here. before he can think about it more, haechan drags him off so he can get a drink.
haechan offers him some, but mark declines. if he does see you, he doesn’t want to mess it up by being potentially drunk. he tries to look around the room again from this angle, but he still can’t find you. it was bound to happen.
he’s about to give up when he notices a group of people move out of their spot, and there you are.
he knows you're there talking to a friend, but he can only see you. you remind him of how he first met you at the other party. he wants to walk over, wants to say hi, wants to talk to you. he forgets that haechan is there, beginning to take a few steps towards you.
he’s quickly stopped by haechan tugging on his arm, a certain look on his face, “are you really doing this?”
“i need to talk to her. even if she tells me to go away, i just- i need to hear it from her.”
haechan lets go of his arm, realizing that this is something that mark is serious about. “i don’t want to stop you. i’ll be here if you end up getting heartbroken,” haechan jokes.
mark just smiles, nodding before he walks away from him. he stops his hands from shaking as he gets closer. you’re turned away from him, and he doesn’t really know what else to do than tap your shoulder. you jump a little before turning around, your eyes wide as you realize it’s mark. he can’t help but notice your eyes soften a little when you see it’s just him.
“hey, uh, i didn’t expect to see you here.” he says to you.
a faint smile forms on your face, “i can’t say i’m too surprised to see you.”
he lets out an embarrassed laugh, smiling to himself when he sees you laugh too. looking behind you, he sees your friend smiling at the two of you. you turn back to your friend, a wordless exchange happening in front of mark.
your friend puts her hands up in defeat, looking at mark with a wry smile, “i just got a text from our friend saying she needs help. i guess i have to leave you two alone now!”
mark gives your friend a wave as she says bye to the both of you. she rushes off to another part of the house, mark not missing the mischievous look on her face. now that it’s the two of you alone, shy and awkward smiles exchanged between the two of you. no one really knows what to say or how to start.
“how have you been-”
“it’s been a while-”
you both talk over each other. you stare at each other with wide eyes, quickly laughing to yourselves. mark thinks he should be embarrassed by this, but he takes in how pretty you look while you laugh. he would embarrass himself for hours if it meant to see you smile.
the laughs subside and mark tries to quickly come up with something to say. there’s so many people around, the music is too loud, and you feel far from him. before he can say anything, you beat it to him, “do you wanna go somewhere more quiet?”
he can’t help but hear the subtle undertone of your words, a double meaning hidden behind them. he nods slowly, watching you grab his arm, just like the other night. he gets dragged through the crowd, weaving through all the people, his eyes remain on your back. your touch is warm, and mark likes having your hand on him.
there’s not a lot of options for a “quiet place” in the house. most of the rooms are locked, and the ones that are open have people openly having sex with an unlocked door. mark grimaces at the sight while you laugh at his face. you opt for a restroom, tilting your head at mark, asking if he’s okay with it. he walks in before you, scanning the room and letting you in.
he watches you lock the door, hopping onto the sink counter as you stare at him. he wants to talk to you, he really does, but you staring at his lips makes it quite hard for him. he takes a step closer to you, your hands wrapping around his neck, pulling him flush against the counter. you’re so close to him, and he can feel his heart racing as he recalls his last meeting with you.
he licks his lips, his cheeks hot, eyes wandering all across your face. you chuckle at him, smiling as you say, “can i kiss you, mark?”
he doesn’t even answer you, pressing his lips against yours without hesitation. as much as he wanted to hold back, he seems to lose all control when it comes to you. he can’t pretend like you didn’t come out in his dreams every single night while also consuming his thoughts in the day. his hands hold your cheeks, almost checking if you’re really there with him.
the kisses are slow, getting used to each other once more. one if his hands slides down to your waist, squeezing at the skin. his tongue licks at your bottom lip, relishing in the small moan you let out. he licks into your mouth, his hand sliding under your shirt. you press your hips close to his, feeling how he’s growing hard in his pants just from kissing.
you can’t help but let your hips roll against his, slow and teasing as he lets out a low groan into your mouth. you’re just as needy as he is, always admiring him from afar now that you see him more on campus. it’s weird how the universe works, bringing him to you when all you wanted to do was try to ignore him.
you can feel yourself getting wet, mark grinding into you as he lets out soft pants into your mouth. you take it all in, finally getting what you wanted. you could try to get rid of all the thoughts that you have about him, but it’s hard when he’s… mark lee.
you can feel yourself becoming more needy, embarrassingly so. mark looks the same, his cheeks pink as he lets out soft grunts of your name. when you start kissing down his jawline, he suddenly pulls his upper half away from you. shock paints your face, and he’s quick to explain himself, “i just- i wanted to, uh-”
“can you cum like this? it’s okay if you do, mark. i think it’s cute.”
he whines out, “no! well, yeah, i can, but i wanted to-”
“really, mark. don’t worry, i’ll let you eat me out afterwards.”
he’s quickly losing the battle, his mouth slowly inching towards you again. his hips buck up at the mention of getting to eat you out, memories of your taste on his tongue playing in his mind. he almost gives up, but he’s determined. he slowly peels himself from you, hooded eyes and a flushed face looking straight at you.
“i, uh, i wanted to talk. i mean, like, talk about… i guess, us?”
you catch your breath, squeezing your legs together as you try to calm yourself down, “is there an us? we’ve only met up once, and it was for sex.”
“that’s true, but i…” he trails off a bit, putting his words together, “i want to talk to you more. i want to get to know you, because i really liked being with you the other time.”
you try to hold back any butterflies from forming at his words. as much as you want to give in, you have to be careful, “but wasn’t it just sex? i thought that’s all you wanted from me.”
his hand moves to your thigh, his thumb smoothing over your skin, “that’s true, but i didn’t expect to like it- like you so much. and i don’t expect you to think the same thing, but i just… had to tell you.”
you choose to stare at his hand on your thigh instead of his face. it’s easier to avoid how his eyes shine thinking about his feelings for you. it’s not like it wasn’t obvious, especially after your friends saw him the other day. you bite the inside of your cheek, “you like me? even though you don’t know me, even if we’ve met only once?”
“that’s why i want to get to know you. i want to know what you like and dislike. i want to know what your favorite songs are, want to know what you do when you’re free. i want to be there to learn it all.”
his words feel heavy, and you can feel your own feelings bubbling in your throat. what about you was so interesting for him? did he have a reason to find you pretty under him? what did you do for him to have such strong feelings so fast?
you speak slowly, “are you sure? i- i brushed you off the other day. another day i chose not to talk to you even though i saw you. am i really someone you want to talk to?”
mark smiles at your words, there’s no faltering on his end, “it’s my fault for not telling you what i wanted. i didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, either. if you didn’t want to talk to me, i didn’t want to force you to.”
your mouth opens and closes, not really knowing what else to say. you can tell he’s been thinking about this, been taking your feelings into consideration. if it were any other guy, they wouldn’t care about you, only thinking with their dicks as they talk to you. it puts you at ease knowing that mark is being genuine about it all.
“that’s why i wanted to talk to you tonight. i really had no intention of doing all this-” he makes a gesture between you two, “-with you, even if i really really wanted to. i was prepared for everything.”
you laugh at him, letting out the breath you’ve been holding, “i also want to say sorry. i didn’t mean to be so… mean. i wanted to talk to you, too. i just thought that you only wanted a one time thing, or that you just wanted sex.”
his hand reaches for yours, and you don’t try to brush it off. you don’t quite grab his hand just yet, but you let him hold on. he stares at you gently, “i’m sorry if i made you feel that way.”
you shake your head, “it’s not your fault, i was just thinking too much.”
the two of you sit in silence for a couple of moments. you can hear the loud music bouncing through the thin walls. you can hear people shouting over the music, loud laughs echoing down the halls. even through all the noise, it feels like it’s just the two of you in the room. this is your space with him, and you like how it feels.
after a few more beats of silence, he speaks up, “can i… can i take you out sometime? like, i mean, like, take you out on a date? that isn’t a party? just… wherever you want?”
you let out a small laugh at his nervous, jumbled words. his cheeks turn pink at the sound, head falling to your shoulder as he groans in embarrassment. you hope he can’t hear your thumping heart as you answer him, “i would like that. i want to go on a date with you, mark.”
you can feel him smile against the skin of your shoulder. he whispers out a thank you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. you wrap your arms behind his back, pulling him close as you hum, “do you think we should get out of here?”
he moves to look at you, “definitely.”
you’re unexpectedly nervous for today.
after the party, you and mark exchanged numbers before you both went separate ways for the night. you never expected to see him, never expected to not have sex with him, and never expected to even give him your phone number. now, as you stare at the shared messages from the previous days, you realize how much you kept yourself away from him.
it almost felt too easy for you to fall for him. you tried to hold back, but the care he holds for you gets to your heart. you don’t mind, knowing that he’s felt like this just as long as you had, no restraint shown in how he takes your feelings seriously. a few weeks ago, you could’ve never felt nervous about what might happen today.
it’s nothing serious, mark even saying that it doesn’t have to be a date if you don’t want it to be. like he said before, he just wants to get to know you as a person. the thought makes you shake out a breath, trying to take it just as easy as him.
you mull over your clothing options, wondering what exactly you should wear for a casual hangout. he probably won’t care as much as you think he would, but you don’t want to seem too prepared or too lax. you’re overthinking it again. it’s just mark. it should be easy with him, he’s interested in you, not the you you try to put on.
you grab whatever feels fitting for the day. you look back at your phone, seeing mark’s text saying he’s ready when you are. you’re quick to type out that you’re about to start heading over. it’s just a coffee shop, you think. you try not to put too much meaning into it yet.
it’s not too far from you, a fifteen minute bus ride to the place. throughout the ride, you try to drown out your nervous thoughts with your favorite playlist. it seems the universe is against you when all it plays are the love songs in your playlist. too coincidental.
you get there before him. it looks like a nice, quiet spot. mark says he’s been going here for quite some time, one of his favorite spots to talk to his friends or study. you can’t help but wonder if it’s true or if he’s lying to impress you. you figure today is the best day to find that out.
you wait for him to arrive. you refrain from texting him, deciding to just wait it out. you don’t want to seem too worried just yet, he could just be running late. thoughts of him standing you up enter your mind. you have to laugh at the thought, realizing that mark doesn’t seem to be someone to do that. you don’t know him well yet, but you’re sure he isn’t that evil.
as if to prove your point, you hear someone calling your name. turning to the direction of the voice, you're greeted with mark lee walking towards you. there’s a bright smile on his face, an arm waving at you. you smile and wave back. as he gets closer, he looks over you, a shy smile on his face as he scans over your outfit. you get just embarrassed as him, looking away from his heavy stare.
“should we go inside?” you ask.
he’s quick to agree, opening the door for you. when you enter, you’re hit with the strong smell of coffee. there’s a few others inside, chatting away or typing on their laptops with their own drinks. you scan over the lengthy menu, opting to choose something lighter for today.
mark chooses the same thing as you, and you laugh at him. he says he doesn’t like coffee and wonders why you chose what you chose. he might be thinking too much into it, but you think it’s cute. you try to order separately, but he practically begs to pay for your drink. you give in, you can’t just say no to a free drink.
it’s a bit awkward when you both wait for your drinks. you can see him roll on his heels as he waits, can see how he tries to pick out what he wants to say. as you try to come up with every possible response, he speaks, “how was your day?”
you let out a small chuckle at his question, “good, actually. i spent most of my time thinking about right now, even i kinda surprised myself.”
he smiles at your admittance, “yeah? i did, too. i was nervous, that maybe you didn’t want to see me.”
“i can’t believe that i’m making you feel like that,” you let out an apologetic laugh, “trust me, i’ll be asking to hang out with you a lot now.”
before mark can say anything, your drinks are set out. you both thank the barista, and you start to move to one of the empty booths. before you can, mark catches onto your arm, “can we actually, uh, sit outside? the sky looks really pretty right now, i think it would be cool to sit outside.”
you smile, quickly nodding at his words. once again, he holds open the door for you, sliding out and looking at the small tables set outside. he was right, the sky is really pretty today. he lets you choose a spot, and you choose towards the corner where no one can bother the two of you.
he’s quick to speak up again, “i really like this place. i found it a while ago while walking around with my friend one day.”
“was it with haechan?”
mark cocks his head a little, “you know him?”
“other than his name and him being your friend, not really. he introduced himself to me one time, though.”
he laughs at that, “good to know. he doesn’t really like coming to places like this, so i would just come here by myself. i even considered asking if they were hiring.”
“and? did you?”
“i didn’t. i would be crushed if they rejected me and i wouldn’t be able to show my face there ever again.”
you choke on your drink at his words, a laugh trying to escape as you let out coughs. mark is quick to pat your back, laughing while trying to calm down your coughing fit. as your throat clears, the coughs fade into laughs, mark joining you as he apologizes, “sorry for being too funny.”
you jokingly glare at him, “you owe me, mark lee.”
silence washes over the two of you again. this time, it’s more comfortable. the drink is good, mark’s company feels good, and you’re happy you came today. you watch as he takes out his phone, quickly snapping a shot of the bright blue sky. it seems practiced, something he always does. you can’t help but ask, “what about the sky makes you like it so much?”
he shrugs, “i just think it’s pretty. it’s not going anywhere, and it’s nice to take a break from it all and look up at the sky.”
“i’ve never really thought about it that way. i don’t really take the time to just stare at it.”
he hums at your words, “it’s nice to look and think about all the pretty things in the world.”
you try to ignore how he stares at you while he says that, quickly breaking eye contact with him. there’s a shy, but proud smile on his face. you chuckle, “you’re too cool for me, mark.”
“one day you’ll be as cool as me. just know that i’ll send you pictures of sunsets or the moon, or literally just, like, anything. anything that reminds me of you.”
he lists the things that he just told you he finds pretty, indirectly implying that all the pretty things remind him of you. your heart beats a little harder, quickly taking a sip of your drink to try to ignore it. you try to come up with anything else to get rid of the rush growing inside you, “you know, i actually had seen you once before.”
his head quickly turns to you, “really? when?”
“it was during freshman year, i saw you getting dragged down a hallway.”
mark racks through all his memories, pinpointing when exactly that could’ve happened. you watch the realization dawn on his face, quickly shoving his face into his hands in embarrassment. you shake his shoulder a bit, laughing when he makes a humiliated sound. you question him further, “where were you guys even going?”
after ruffling his own hair a bit, his head slowly lifts up to get a quick look at you. his face is red, hands fidgeting in shame. you wonder what could possibly be so bad. he speaks up when he starts to see you get worried a bit, “it wasn’t even anything crazy, he was just trying to take me to an event with free food in it.”
you can’t stop yourself from laughing, placing your hand on his arm to stable yourself. you decide not to think too hard when his other hand lays on top of yours, thumb smoothing over your skin. it feels like it should always be there, his warm palm calming down your nerves. it should always be this easy.
“if it was just that, then why are you so embarrassed?” you ask, laugh airy.
“i know, but i could’ve skipped free pizza and instead talked to you! it’s not fair you’ve known me longer than i’ve known you. maybe we could’ve… we would’ve…” he doesn’t finish the end of his sentence, but you can assume what he’s trying to say.
“two poor freshmen students couldn’t help themselves to free pizza. i can’t blame you, honestly.”
he squeezes your hand and takes a breath before speaking, “you’ll go with me to get free pizza next time? you’re, like, officially invited to the next free pizza event.”
you chuckle, “would very much prefer you to take me out to an actual pizza place, thank you very much.”
his eyes shoot towards yours, “does that mean you want to see me again?”
you put his words together, “mark lee, were you trying to get me to go on another date with you by asking me to go to a campus event with free pizza?”
“well, it almost worked, didn’t it?”
“you can think of it as me choosing the next spot.”
his fingers move to try to intertwine his with yours. you bite your lip, letting him hold onto your hand. you don’t want to hold back anymore, he’s made it easy for you to let go of it all.
“i can’t wait. it’s my turn to confess.”
you wait for him to continue, watching him hold back a smile as he pays full attention to your hand holding his. you tell him to focus, and he lets out a sheepish laugh, “that day haechan talked to you, he told me that you were going out that weekend. i really wanted to see you, so we both ended up going out that same weekend, too.”
“how did you know where i would be?”
“we didn’t,” he chuckles, “i just hoped that i would find you, hoped that you would be there. i got lucky that night.”
“it’s like you knew exactly where to find me.”
“it’s almost as if our subconscious were trying to bring us together,” he let’s out a proud noise at his own words while you playfully roll your eyes at him.
“mark, i will threaten to cancel our next date,” you joke.
he hums, “i know where to look to find you, don’t worry.”
mark finds himself in bed with you again.
this time, he knows exactly why. he’s in love with you, and you finally admitted that you’re in love with him. he didn’t rush you, didn’t pressure you into reciprocating his feelings. he could see yourself becoming more comfortable around him, leaning into his touch, smiling at his words. he wouldn’t change anything (besides maybe that day he got dragged by haechan), in order to be here in bed with you.
even if all he had with you was that one night, he’d be happy knowing that he at least spent some time with you. but he got what he wanted, you let him into your life. he would’ve waited years if it meant getting with you.
so as he makes his way in between your thighs once more, he looks to see your face staring down at him with love. though he’s having sex with you again like all those nights ago, it feels different this time. he’s not here just to fuck you, but he’s here because he loves you. what’s even better is that now you love him back, and it feels right as you moan out his name.
he’s softer this time around, no rush in getting you both off as fast as possible. there’s no loud music or screaming coming through the walls, and you’re laying on top of your own bed. he’s here in your room, enjoying the presence of you right next to him.
he licks a stripe up your dripping cunt, savoring the taste that he’s been craving. he looks up to gauge your reaction, a smiling forming on his face to see your face scrunched up with need. he moves to suck on your clit, humming around it, feeling your thighs tighten around his head. he doesn’t bother moving them this time around, letting them try to shut around his head.
you can feel his tongue prod at your entrance, your hands move to tangle in his hair. he just can’t get enough of how sweet you taste. he thinks he could spend hours here in between your thighs, licking up your slick. he thanks every god out there for letting him be here with you, letting him be so entranced by all of you.
he grabs you by the waist to pull you closer to him. you can feel his nose press against your clit, and you can’t help but practically use his face to grind into him. he opens his eyes a bit, looking at the sight of you so fucked out just from his mouth. you’re all he can think about.
you can feel one of his fingers replace his tongue, moving to tease your clenching hole. you gasp out, tears welling in your eyes, “mark, please. need you so bad, you don’t even know-”
“baby-” you moan at the pet name, “i know how much you need me, i could never keep you waiting.” he slides a finger in, relishing in the way you clench around his digit. his mouth focuses on your clit, listening to the moans and whimpers you let out. it’s all because of him this time, all of the things he does for you because of how much he loves you.
he slips another finger in, scissoring them inside you, earning him a tug at his hair. his fingers move to curl inside you, enjoying the feeling of your warm walls wrapped around his fingers. you whimper when he finds your sweet spot, thighs practically trapping him between your thighs. he commits that spot to memory, now forever burned into his mind.
it doesn’t take long for him to get you close to cumming. he’s putting all his attention on you, his desperation showing with how greedily he’s moving against you. you feel your body heat up, thighs beginning to shake around him. “m-mark, ‘m gonna cum, wanna cum so bad!” you wait, and you can feel him smile against you.
he pulls his mouth away from you, his fingers still moving inside of you as he thumb reaches to rub your clit. he moves to kiss you, licking into your mouth. you can taste yourself on his tongue, moaning into your mouth as you cum on his fingers. he rides you through it, fingers slowing down as you whine from the overstimulation.
he removes them from you, bringing them up to his mouth. you watch him slide them into his mouth, his eyes fluttering shut with the taste of your cum. he lets out a small groan, and you have to lightly kick his leg to get him to focus. his eyes focus on you again, letting out an embarrassed laugh, trying to redirect it towards you.
“my girl came so fast, did you miss me that much?” he teases.
you roll your eyes, “so what if i did! now, will you let me finally suck you off?”
his eyes bulge out of his head and you have to refrain from laughing at the sight. “i never got to, but you don’t know how much i want to.”
you both trade spots, mark laying to lean against the headboard, his hooded eyes staring down at you. your hands trail up his clothed thighs, and he can’t miss the way you look at his bulge in his sweats. you make eye contact with him as you slide down his sweats and boxers, watching how his hard cock slaps against his stomach.
he lets out a low groan at the sight of you so prettily sat between his legs. you kitten lick his tip before wrapping your hand around his length. you move your hand slowly up and down, smiling at the low groans he lets out at the feeling. you won’t ever admit it to him, but you’ve thought about doing this to him too much, even before you started dating.
you can tell he thought about it too with the way his bleary eyes look at you. his head pushes into the headboard as your lips wrap around his tip, sucking lightly. his hand doesn’t hesitate to move to your cheek, his thumb smoothing over your soft skin. your tongue swirls around his tip, and mark tries hard to stop himself from shoving his cock down your throat.
you move down his cock, trying to take as much of him as you can. you have to wrap a hand at his base, twisting your fist as you bob your head. his hips buck up a little, feeling you gag around him, moaning out an apology. you hum around him, a hand moving to hold down his hip. he lets out a whine at the feeling of vibrations, one of his hands moving to tug at his hair.
“d-doing so good for me- shit, my girl is doing such a good job for me.”
the praise makes your cheeks heat up, and you quicken your movements to hear more. you swallow around him, hearing the anguished groans he lets out. your tongue slides against the underside of his cock, “such a pretty mouth, making me feel so good. you d-don’t know how much i thought about this.”
if only he knew that you feel the same way. as if to respond to him, your eyes look up at his. they almost flutter close, the sight of his cock in your mouth, your pretty eyes batting at him, and the almost glossy look to your eyes sets something off in him. he’s so close, a broken moan escaping him, “if you keep doing that, i’ll cum- oh god, please don’t stop.”
he tries to hold off to make this last longer, but every time you swallow around him, it gets hard for him to hold back. he’s losing his self control, something that you always manage to take away from him. he doesn’t know how you do it, but he thinks it’s because of all the love he holds for you.
it’s your eyes smiling at him that makes him cum. you don’t pull off of him, trying to fit more of his length into your mouth as he spills his cum down your throat. he’s letting out whines of your name, telling you how good you’ve been, how he’s so lucky to have his pretty girl do this for him. you swallow up all his cum, feeling how his cock twitches in your mouth.
you don’t pull away from him right away, causing mark to nervously laugh out at the feeling of overstimulation. you hum around him once more, hearing the small whimper he lets out as he tries to pull away. you slowly move away, mark letting out a huff of relief as you lazily smile at him.
“i think i would’ve passed out if you tried making me cum again.”
you move up to snuggle at his side, nuzzling your face into this neck, “now you know how i feel when i have to get you to stop eating me out.”
he whines out an it’s different! as he wraps his arms around you, tucking you into his chest. he’s warm, slightly sweaty, but you wouldn’t want it any other way. it’s quiet, hearing his heart beat in his chest with you so close to him. you could fall asleep in his arms, but you hear him whisper something above you. you ask him to repeat it, not quite catching it the first time.
“please don't leave me ever again.”
“this is my own apartment-” he laughs at your words, “plus, i think i love you too much to let myself ever leave you.”
he lets out a sigh, calmed by your words, “good. i can’t ever let my girl go anywhere anymore.”
a/n: I FINALLY FINISHED OH MY GOD. i love writing for mark and towards the end i somehow fell more in love with him... i hope u guys enjoy the second part to how it all goes, please let me know if you did!!!! hehe
taglist: @mwahaechz @froggyforyoongi @ppeachyttae @omlhyck @hazyhae @haechology @hrts4doie @kittydollzz @emvrd @pnkified @se7vnn @p4p1l0nn @jeankirsteinsgf69 @n0hyuck @yoursyuno @doejaejung @ccnicole02 @yuskitty @hyuckills @luvjoongz @sunnyeyes7 @tddyhyck @tmtxtf @arsvita @do0jaem @starfields @yoongjk @qusil @hcluvie @chaeceah @kriizztin
#nct smut#nct 127 smut#nct dream smut#nct fic#mark lee smut#mark lee fic#mark lee scenarios#mark lee x reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Yandere! Townspeople Harem x Lucky Reader
Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’
A/N: I have no clue what I was on when I wrote this 💀. This is also inspired by a Reddit post I saw long time ago.
🌟 Yandere! Townspeople who are absolutely enamored by you and everything that you do. They treat you as if you are some kind of entity waiting to be put on a golden pedestal and paraded around town. You are essentially the town’s golden boy/girl/person, a mascot if you can even call it that. In their eyes everything that you do is inspiring and encouraged. It also doesn’t help that you were born with this amazing power that causes you to become extremely lucky. No matter the deed, every action was thrust into the spotlight as if it were a gracious gesture for the community's well-being. Take, for instance, if you ever fatally shot someone the townsfolk would erupt in applause, discovering the individual to be a notorious mass murderer and your action saved the town.
🌟 Yandere! Townspeople who can’t help but gush over every miniscule achievement that you got. You got a perfect attendance award? They wouldn’t expect anything less from you. Did you just get a participation trophy? Well they're cheering for you as if you just won the world cup. To say their actions are embarrassing is definitely an understatement. Everytime they cheer for you, you can’t help but die a little bit on the inside.
🌟 Yandere! Townspeople who absolutely cannot fathom the idea of you moving out of their town. They would much rather skin themselves alive and commit arson than to allow you to leave them. Everywhere you go, there will always be some form of eyes on you. There will always be some type of survance of you at any time of the day. Depending on the person, the townspeople's love for you can either be platonic or romantic. Basically half of the town wants to fuck your and the other half sees you as their beloved child or grandchild.
🌟 Yandere! Townspeople who may or may not be human. Like sure they might have the occasional human sacrifices but what town doesn’t!?!? This is totally normal behavior that people exhibit. What’s that? Did you just see a tentacle coming out from that woman over there? Nahhh. You must be imagining that! What a cute and overactive imagination you have there. In all seriousness, it would literally die for you. You're just a cutie patootie to them. Your small teeth are so cute compared to their razor sharp fangs. You know, you could really use that small mouth of yours and suck on their–
🌟 Yandere! Townspeople have a monthly ritual where they gather around to brag about all of the items that they stole from you. Never in your life will you see someone so happy to own a pair of used underwear that didn’t belong to them or some used pair of socks. If you looked up a textbook definition of “down bad” then a picture of the Yandere! Townspeople would be the first images to pop up. In your presence these people act as if they had never touched grass or seen the sun before. They all seem to have some type of mutual agreement that in your presence, they would try to act somewhat normal in order to not scare/scar you too much.
—
From a young age, your luck was apparent. In school, while others struggled with exams, you breezed through them effortlessly, always managing to stumble upon the exact answers needed to excel. Teachers marveled at your natural knack for stumbling upon solutions, even in the most challenging of situations. As you grew older, the extraordinary luck only seemed to amplify. Job interviews turned into job offers within minutes, as if the universe conspired to ensure your success in every endeavor. Colleagues joked that working with you was like having a lucky charm around, as projects that seemed doomed to fail miraculously turned into resounding triumphs whenever you were involved. It might seem great and all BUT DAMN WAS THIS LIFE SO FUCKING BORING!!!! Which is why you decided to spice up your day a little and rob a bank.
“Oh hello [Reader]! Is this going to be the usual procedure?” The bank teller asks you with a smile on their face as you hold a gun to their face. “You know… the weather is perfectly nice today. It would be a perfect day for a date don’t you think–”
Suddenly a thunderous crash was heard, the police burst through the bank doors, their badges glinting under the harsh fluorescent lights. Guns drawn and voices booming commands, they swept into the lobby, faces masked with determination. Until the police chief sees you and lets out a tired sigh, “Guns down everyone, it’s just [Reader].” A faint sound of disappointed groans can be heard from the crowd of bank patrons from the back. “Why are the police here so soon, I didn’t get enough time to admire their pretty face.” another voice could be heard, “For real, their never this fast in an actual emergency. I mean they only just shot and killed one person, it's really nothing to worry about like who cares–”
—
“You are free to go [Reader], again.” the police officer states as she releases you from your handcuffs. “Turns out the man that you shot ended up being a drug dealer. You really have a special talent for catching criminals don’t you. She states as she gazes at you with loving eyes. “You know I’m free after this shift, you think we can–”
Before she can finish her sentence you walk away with a dejected look on your face. You couldn’t believe how boring a day this turned out to be. Seriously, you wished that something exciting would happen in this town for once you think to yourself. Failing to notice a scene behind you. One that consisted of a bunch of monsters eating the souls of the innocent while on their knees for a statue that seemed to look like you. They all seem to be gripping onto something though– HEY, WAIT A MINUTE ARE THEY HOLDING YOUR UNDERWEAR!?!!?
#yandere#yandere headcanons#yandere imagines#yandere x y/n#yandere x you#yandere scenarios#yandere x darling#yandere x reader#yandere harem#yandere townspeople
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
good for me. | sub!ellie williams
tags: sub!ellie, dom!reader, cunilingus (e!recieving), over stimulation, nipple sucking, praise
a/n: dude i saw a pic (first one) of ellie that filled my mind with brainrot about nipple sucking like all i could think about was rolling her pretty tits under my tongue and agsjej- anyways. we need more sub!ellie in this damn community.
you had her pinned down by the wrists against your pristine white sheets, straddling her hips and watching intently as her chest rises and falls with each shaky intake of air. her long fingers flex and squirm beneath your grasp as she starts to turn pink under your intense gaze, heat swarming in her lower stomach. she worries her bottom lip with her teeth making you tsk unapprovingly. a gentle hand reaches down to caress her warm cheek before you grasp more firmly at her jaw, your thumb swiping her pouty lip out of her mouth. its flushed and wet with saliva and the soft gasp ellie lets out from the subtle dominance of your actions has you leaking into your underwear.
“look at you. my pretty girl. being so good for me.." you lean forward to whisper into her ear. your tits press into hers as you place lingering open mouthed kisses against the sensitive flesh of her neck right below the sharp angle of her jaw. she squeezes her eyes shut and her mouth hangs open slightly. shes panting out sharp little breaths of anticipation. “nngh- please touch me..need you so bad." ellie sighs out the words like they're a secret, and a vicious smile spreads across your face at her little confession. she was enjoying this. enjoying being toyed with, completely at your mercy. the contrast was striking; like night and day. all the snark was gone from her voice. you wanted nothing more than to satisfy her wish and reward her obedience, but not before making her truly desperate for it.
“where do you need me, els?” your voice is sultry and low, almost unrecognisable to yourself. the innate power of having her in this vulnerable position enflames something in you, makes you slippery between the thighs. you want to make her work for it. to beg you to let her cum. you barely register the way your own hips begin to rock slightly against the front of her jeans. ellie gasps, bucking up into you. the subtle friction of your heat against hers makes her needy and anxious to feel you. she struggles slightly against your restraint, yearning to hold your hips. to grip your flesh in her hands and grind you down onto her, to coach you both to a release. “fuck- please baby, i’ve been so good. i can make you feel good, just lemme-” she’s babbling now, groaning as you increase the speed of your grinding.
“hey.” your tone is sharp and authoritative as you grab her by the chin again, diverting her attention. she’s instantly silent, staring up at you with eager eyes and furrowed brows. it almost breaks you. “relax. lemme take care of you.” your smile is sickly sweet as you lean down to connect your lips with hers in a chaste kiss that has her chasing your mouth when you depart. you finally release her wrists with a curt “stay.” that makes ellie swallow a whimper. but she’s such a good girl, staying perfectly still for you, watching as your hands slowly inch her tank top up to expose her perky breasts. your mouth waters at the sight of her soft pink nipples and you’re quick to latch onto one with a groan whilst palming the other.
ellie’s breathing increases rapidly as she watches you flick her nipple up and down with your tongue until it pebbles in your mouth. your lips are gentle, sucking the flesh softly and overwhelming her senses with the feeling of warmth. “uhhn- feels s’good baby, ffuck” ellie hiccups out, moving her hand to lace through your hair. you pop off of her nipple and blow cool air onto the flesh just to make her shiver, giggling cruelly at how cute she looks. her hair is a mess and her body shines with a sheer layer of sweat, a pretty flush spreading from her face down to her neck. she looks utterly fucked out and you haven't even ventured between her thighs yet.
you make quick work of unbuttoning her jeans, sliding them down to reveal her freckled legs. her boxer briefs are slick with her arousal making them almost sheer. the pretty outline of her pussy is on full display. you sigh contently, reaching under her knees to hike her legs up and spread them. “you’re adorable, you know that?” your voice is breathy as you take in the erotic sight below you, reaching a finger down to swipe through her wet folds over her underwear. “so wet.” ellie instinctively bucks into your touch, whining. “sh-shut up n’ fuck me already”
on a different day, you’d be crueler. punish her for speaking out of line by denying her your touch. but you’re just as desperate for her, and all you can offer is a non-committal “say please” which shes quick to relinquish before your diving forward to swipe your tongue up her pussy, desperate for a taste. “fuck!” ellie yelps out, her head thrown back against the sheets. she tastes tangy and sweet and you moan deeply before sucking her slick through the thin fabric.
“lets get these off of you, yeah?” you pant before shoving her wrecked briefs down the plush of her thighs. sticky webs of her arousal cling onto the fabric, and fuck she looks so pretty like this, all wet and pliant for you. her hole pulses around nothing and you’re quick to shove your face back in, sucking her puffy clit into your mouth. ellie’s hands fly, grabbing chunks of your hair in a fist as she humps mindlessly against your tongue. so greatful to finally feel some sense of relief. she’s letting out whiney cries of your name, practically fucking your face. her free hand grasps the sheets when your tongue prods into her entrance, gathering her precum onto your tongue.
“holy f-fuck baby ‘m gonna cum- fuckfuckfu” you’ve never seen her this needy, so close to release this soon; her voice is high and she can barely form full sentences as you feel her pussy pulse and her strong thighs trap you, warm liquid spilling into your eager mouth. you continue to eat her out through her high until shes tearing up and pushing you away, completely over stimulated.
“hh- shit…” shes huffing out, collapsed onto the bed with her arm covering her eyes. you crawl up ellie’s body to kiss her softly, the lingering taste of her cum still fresh on your tongue. a warm hand reaches down to massage the tense muscles of her thighs and you hold her face with the other, staring at her hazy expression. “you okay?” you whisper to her, pecking the tip of her nose lovingly. ellie smiles warmly, basking in the after glow of her orgasm, her eyes closed. “more than okay. fucking amazing.”
#sub!ellie#dom!reader#ellie williams x reader#the last of us#wlw#ellie williams smut#ellie x f!reader#lesbian#tlou2#tlou smut#tlou#ellie tlou#ellie x reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
Firstly, big fan of your poly mc x obey me brothers stuff. Secondly, I'm a bit curious about the dynamics between the brothers and mc (cough three-ways cough). Obviously Beel and Belphie wouldn't mind working together, but do you have any headcanons regarding the other brothers sharing?
threesome parings lets gooo! // nsfw, poly!mc (duh) // dateables and sides next maybe?? ;)
Obvious parings
Beel + Belphie; this one is the most obvious, but it works so well (Belphie likes to say they're the best tag-team). It can leave you reeling because you don't always know what's going on when they communicate with just their eyes. The favorite positions in this team are probably: you sitting on one's face while sucking the other off; riding one while the other fucks you from behind; spooning with one in front of you and one behind you
"Such a fuck-ing slut for us, huh? Our pretty little slut."
"o-oh..yeah, move your hips like that again, please..g'na c-cum-!"
"Please go faster, Mc..uh-huh, like that..a-ah! Yesyesyes, cumming! 'm cumming, oh fuck!"
"Your mouth is always so good...here, do Belphie next. Wanna prep you with my tongue."
"Mmm...slow down over there, Beel. We said we'd go slow...'s still early..'m tired." "Sorry, Belphie, but they feel so good..just listen to them. They need us." "..fine...we're going back to sleep after, though."
Lucifer + Satan; yes. These two. Their synchronized energy is almost on par with the twins (even if it's like a subtle competition the whole time) and they do everything so smoothly and seductively it makes you hot and bothered at a rate that should be illegal. The favorite positions for this team are probably: bent over something, one pounding you from the back while you suck off the other; being held up while they fuck you standing, one in front and one behind
"Come on, you can suck my cock better than that. Don't tell me he's made you dumb already?"
"No, no, no, moan my name. Yeah, that's it baby, let me hear you. Louder."
"I'm cumming- don't fucking move. I don't care if he's close, I'm filling you up first."
"You look so pretty, Mc...so. fucking. gorgeous. Doing so good for us, always do so good."
"Hold it. Yes, you can, and you will." "Don't be so mean to them, Lucifer. I think they've well earned the right to cum, don't you? I wanna feel it. Let them cum." "No. If you keep mouthing off, I'll take them away and you can finish yourself off. They hold it until I say so."
Mammon + Asmo; PARTY DUO! They're so wild and filthy and it's so fun to have both at the same time. Tag teaming you is one of the times they can bounce their energies off each other without arguments. The favorite positions of this team (though they're down to try any positions) are probably: riding one while the other fucks you from behind; train style- fucking one [w/strap or dick] while the other fucks you; both squeezing themselves between your legs to give you oral
"Harder! Yeah, yeah, yeah- like that! Come on, Mammon, fuck them faster, I need them to give me more!"
"Ahh, fuck...you're so fuckin' good t'me, baby. Look so good, you're so damn perfect- look at me, look at me, baby...fuuuckkk.."
"Come on, hon! Spread those legs a biiit wider...don't be shy~ show us your pretty self..gotta give us room to work our magic!♡"
"Rock them hips over me, baby, yeahh..make me feel so fucking good. Takin both of us so well."
"Ooh, turn them around this way!" "No way! They faced you the last time, I wanna look at them this time." "That's so not fair- oh! Aw, just listen to that little whine...you need us that badly, Mc?" "Course they do, you kept us waitin so damn long. Don't worry, baby, we gotcha."
Not-so-common pairings
Asmo + Belphie; little odd pairing here, but Asmo cancels out Belphie's sloth (and even gets him riled up in a way only Azzy can) so once you experience it, it's like the shock of temperature play. The favorite positions of this team are probably: riding Belphie while Azzy fucks you from behind; sitting on Bel's face while sucking Asmo off; getting fucked by one; head hanging off the side of the bed, while the other fucks your throat
"I knew I made the right idea picking this set out for you! You look absolutely gorgeous, Mc! Put on a little show for us?"
"Mmmnn...move faster..yeah, come on..ugh- please? Please, for me...y-yeah! Like that.."
"The way you move your tongue like that has me spinning, darling! A-ah..ah, ah-! I'm gonna cum!"
"No, no, no, look at me. At me, Mc, not at Asmo. I wanna see your face when you cum on my cock- take that pretty mouth of yours off his dick and scream my name."
"Come on, Belphie! You gotta get motivated! Just look at them, laying there so pretty for us!" "I can make them feel good without acting like you, you know." "Not unless you want me to steal them away~ Ooh, there's that competitive look in your eye!"
Lucifer + Levi; not necessarily an ‘odd’ pair, but definitely one we don’t see often. With the elder commanding the room and the younger so willing to follow along, it makes for a smooth combination (and an easy dynamic to settle into). The favorite positions for this team are probably: sucking off one while the other fucks you from behind; bending Levi over and fucking him while Luci bends you over the other and fucks you from behind; sitting on Levi’s face while sucking Lucifer off
"Ah, ah, ah. If I can hear you forming words, it means you're not sucking his cock properly. Doesn't Levi deserve some pleasure, too, hm? Go on, choke on it."
""Nghh! You f-fuck me s'good! Hnn...h-huh? Y-yes...yes, y'r fucking me dumb already- 'm your good boy t-though, please keep going!"
"So willing and obedient...you don't know what you really even do to me, do you?"
"Mmph...love the way you taste..ride my tongue faster."
"You can fuck them harder can't you? If their mouth isn't being forced onto my cock, it means you're slacking again." "S-s-sorry...they just- ah!- f-feel so good...my legs are..are already shaking." "Already? Well, if you aren't going to do it properly, let's just switch positions."
Mammon + Beel; again, not ‘odd’, but more so an overlooked- giving based- combo. They’re pretty much all about you, so it can be a bit overwhelming sometimes (but in the best way). The favorite positions for this team are probably: sitting on one’s face and giving head to the other; laying on your sides, each fucking you from the front and back; riding one while the other feels you up and plays with you
"Aw, why're ya cryin', baby? Yeah? Feels good? Sweet little thing...how bout we make ya feel even better?"
"No, no- don't run away, Mc..not done yet..you can take us both at the same time, know you can."
"Y'look s'good ridin' him like that. Can't wait for my turn, fuck, do you feel what you do to me? C'mon, baby, feel it...s'all for you."
"Make him cum again..I don't wanna stop tasting you yet."
"Beel! C'mon! I wanna taste 'em too! Stop hogging!" "But their taste.." "I know- but look at 'em. They're dying to taste you, too. So give me a turn, yeah? Let 'em get their fill." "Okay...just for you, Mc.."
Levi + Belphie; this one…is interesting. It’s easy to run things because of their natures, but this is the unofficial ‘drastic switch’ team— you never really know what you’re getting with them. The favorite positions for them are probably: giving both a handjob while they pleasure you; riding one and making out with the other; getting fucked from behind and fucking the other
"D-don't stop- hnn..! O-oh, u-uh-huh, make me cum again, don't care if 'm sensitive, wanna cum again for you!"
"Noo! Come back...mmph..mm...don't stop kissing me. Don't care- I'll move your hips for you, don't worry about Levi, just focus on me."
"You look so. fucking. good. bent over for me. Shh, don't listen to Belphie's bitching, he's getting fucked every time I slam my cock into you, so focus on me."
"Pull my hair. Yeah, like that- mm! Let me fuck you harder..please? He won't care, he can take it, I need to fuck you harder, Mc, please!"
"Quit hogging them! It's not fair!" "Is that all you ever say? It's not my fault you don't ask them to give you what you need. I do. So I'm going first." "H-hmph! Mc, Belphie's being mea- oh..oh your hand feels good..yeah stroke me like t-that.."
Other good mentions
Lucifer + Mammon; these two can communicate with just their eyes as well as the twins can, okay, they absolutely have your head spinning— and usually, the eldest is in charge of the whole thing but sometimes his favoritism shows and he lets Mammon take over. The favorite positions in this team are probably: each fucking you standing, from front and back; sucking one off while the other guides the pace; rough makeout session to see who gets to be in charge (and sometimes it’s you)
"It's been awhile, hasn't it, Mc? I can tell by the way you're already drooling for us...all dumb and pretty. All ours."
"Doin' such a good job, baby...uh-huh, bob your head a liiittle faster, like..this. Use your tongue too...hear the way he's moanin' for ya?"
"Don't make fun of me...is it so wrong that I want to feel your touch, too? I love the rake of your nails across my skin..indulge me, won't you?"
"I don't even care if 'm not in charge this time- just don't stop kissing me..haven't felt your lips on mine all day, please, fuck, don't ever stop kissing me."
"Well? What are you going to do now that you're in control this time, Mammon?" "Heh..overstimulate him, Mc. 'n don't stop until he's shooting blanks." "...what? Mc, don't you d-ah! Gr..damnit...fuck, it feels good.."
Mammon + Levi; they might act like it’s a big competition sometimes, but all they really care about is making you feel good, and when their energies are in sync, it’s crazy. The favorite positions of this team are probably: riding one while the other fucks you from behind; getting fucked while fucking the other, spreading your legs wide open so they can both give you oral
"Don't be such a fuckin' sore loser, Levi. Just put your mouth on 'em and shut up..we don't getta talk till their legs are shakin."
"C-can't handle when you s-stare at me like that..m-makes me feel all hot a-and bothered..especially w-when he keeps fucking you e-even closer."
"Can take it- promise I can take it! Don't stop fucking me, need it s'bad!"
"Hah! Look at him! He's practcially in tears from just one orgasm..h-huh? W-w-what are you doing- no, d-don't! You're..going too fast..a-ahhh..c-cumming! N-no..'m not crying..'m not!"
"What'd you say?!" "You heard me! You're not that dumb, are you?" "You little- Mc? Oh, no, we're sorry baby...no, no, we didn't mean to forget you, we'll make it up. Here..put that tail of yours to good use, Levi." "Yeah..okay..we're sorry, Mc. That feel good?"
Satan + Asmo; this pairing can be so softly sweet and so passionately intense, it should come with a whiplash warning (but are you really complaining?). The favorite positions for this pair are probably: laying down while one fucks you from each side, getting fucked while making out with the other, mutual masturbation and getting edged while edging them
"Ah, ah, ah...not yet, love, don't cum yet. It'll feel better if we wait, yeah? Hold it for me...just a little longer."
"You look so sexy, all disheveled like this! Gets me all hot and bothered every time! Hehe! ♡"
"Arch your back for me- just like that. Makes it go even deeper, doesn't it? Just. like. this. Ohh, fuck, make that sound for me again- 'm gonna cum."
"Stroke me faster, baby, please! Uh-huh, uh-huh...mm! Cumming! Yes, yes, yes!"
"Calm down, Asmo. Mc's had a tiring day..let's take it slow and make them feel better, hm?" "Ooh, you're absolutely right! We'll take care of you, hon, you won't even have to lift a finger!" "Relax, love...we've got you."
#obey me x reader#om x reader#obey me smut#om smut#lucifer x reader#lucifer smut#om lucifer#mammon x reader#mammon smut#om mammon#leviathan x reader#leviathan smut#om levi#satan x reader#satan smut#om satan#asmo x reader#asmo smut#om asmodeus#beel x reader#beel smut#om beelzebub#belphie x reader#belphie smut#om belphegor
2K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
supercool-here
Memento Mori
thecosplayscene
Untitled
dabaddesta
DabaddestA
sadzsa
SADsa
blackbeardsemophase
signed, in love and death and beauty and silence,