synopsis : not expecting you to home this week, your parents planned a trip. and winterâyour best friendâs momâoffered to let you stay over at her place, so they could enjoy their trip with no worries.
includes. . . age gap â mommy kink â praise â fingering â oral (f!giving) â pet names â fem!reader.
đŻïžnote: this was supposed to come out like two months ago but i overthink too much⊠also, thank you for the idea twin @matzism
milf!winter who became friends with your mom after you moved next door to her the summer before your senior year. and you, who eventually became close with her daughter that same yearâalways spending the night at her house.
milf!winter who was always your favorite out of all your parentsâ friends because she was more lenient, letting you get away with things thatâd never pass with your mom. sheâd hold your chin as she gave you a waterfall of your first taste of alcohol.
âour secret, right, sweetie?â she kissed her thumb, before pressing it against yours, confirmation that youâd never tell.
milf!winter who used to notice the way you held your breath whenever she was too close. always calling on you to zip her dresses or clip her heels just to see how long you could stay composed.
milf!winter who found herself missing the lingering stares and soft touches you gave her. and hated that ever since you had left for college, she rarely got to see you anymore.
milf!winter who couldnât hide her excitement after she heard youâd be coming back home for spring break. she was quick to assure your parents that youâd be safe at her house while they went away on a trip.
milf!winter who you thought was exaggerating whenever sheâd mention how different you looked when you finally came back. because the only thing that changed was your height, a few features, and your maturity.
milf!winter who called you down to help her cook dinner that same night. she took it upon herself to teach you how to âproperlyâ cut. her front pressed against your back, hands over yours as she guided you, and the warmth of her breath against your ear as she explained.
âlike this, sweetheart,â she demonstrated, her voice like velvet as her hands moved with yours.
milf!winter who wasnât surprised you stayed behind after her daughter went to a party later that night. inviting you to watch a movie because it had been so long since she had you to herself.
milf!winter who made the couch feel smaller than it actually was. the warmth of her leg pressed against yours and her arm resting behind you on the back of the couch.
milf!winter who somehow ended up behind you, with you in her arms as her finger made slow, teasing circles around your clit through the fabric of your underwear. âuse your words, honey. mommy canât hear you.â her voice soft in your ears.
âpleaseâŠâ you spoke up.
she hummed, sliding a finger against your folds through the fabric. âplease, what?â she asked as she hooked a finger around your soaked panties, sliding them off.
milf!winter who didnât stop until she had you seeing stars. her fingers moving at a rhythmic pace, curling just right inside you. she kept up the movements, whispering sweet words in your ear until you came.
milf!winter who wanted to see how far she could push youâneeding to know exactly what youâd do for her.
âyou wanna help mommy, right?â a smile gracing her face as she watched you nod, already lowering yourself between her legs.
milf!winter who doesnât forget to praise you, feeding you with compliments. âfuck⊠youâre doing such a good job,â she moaned. her fingers brushed through your hair, grabbing a handful as she grinds shamelessly against your face.
she threw her head back onto the arm rest of the couch.
"just like that, baby... so good," she cooed, the feeling pooling in her stomach. "...gonnna cum soon." and she did. the orgasm shattering through her, leaving your chin and mouth glinting from her.
milf!winter who had you keep what happened this week a secret, kissing her thumb and pressing it against yours like old times. she made sure to tell your mom how much of a good girl you were that week when she asked if there were any problems.
-
đŻïžnote: last part lwk cringe but fuck it we ball (im js lazy)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
Synposis: Nami likes dressing you up. Its one of her favourite activities to do when shopping. It turns out she likes dressing you up just a bit more than you were prepared for.
Content: Fem!reader x Nami. Bottom reader, Top character, cunnilings, oral sex, reader wears lingerie, hair pulling
The shopping trip had been going normal. Nami got you outfits of all kinds that she liked the look of you in. Cute dresses, skirts that were both cute and hot, stylish trousers she said made your ass and thighs look good, nice shirts of different kinds for different weathers etc etc etc.
Point is, it'd all been going fine. Then you'd stumbled across a lingerie shop. And her eyes sparkled.
"Mmhm, mhm, you taste so good," Nami moaned, licking your clit through the open gap in the lingerie that left you exposed there. Your hands gripped her curling hair, not pulling, simply gripping with the navigator kneeled before you, your legs propped up on her shoulders.
Shortly after the shopping she'd rented this room and had you change into the lingerie. When you'd stepped out, she'd pounced on you like a panther.
And here she was, eating you out like a woman starved. Her tongue flicked at your bud and she sucked it making you gasp and throw your head back. When you looked down, through half lidded eyes, Nami's drunk expression made you feel warmer than you already were as she started up at you with reverence.
"Keep doing that," She commanded making you furrow your brows with confusion.
"Doing what?"
"Keeping your arms like that," she mumbled, licking at your slit again. "Makes your tits look nice."
You looked down to see that, with you holding her hair, you'd inadvertently pressed your breasts together. The lace on your lingerie, picked by Nami to be the colour she thought suited your skin tone best, bunched up slightly with the cups brushing against each other.
"Pervert," you muttered but did as she asked anyway, keeping your breasts pushed together. She gave your clit a harsh suck at your words and you gasped into the air, giving her hair a tug.
Nami's moan vibrated through your body, her nails digging into your thighs as she dove her tongue back into you and continued to take her fill.
It wasn't much longer before you could feel your climax building. Your breathing began to get heavier as the feeling in your stomach stirred. You released your grip on Nami's hair to tap her head which she understood as the signal.
She released herself from your pussy to look up at you, her eyes were half lidded and with the way her hair was messed up with your hands she was the one who looked fucked out.
"Touch yourself for me, pretty."
You blinked down at her but she was already tasting you again. So you moved your hand from her hair and brought it down to your clit. It was already soaked from Nami's work so you could begin to circle it with little effort of preparation needed.
A moan left you at the dual stimulation of Nami's tongue and your fingers, and you rubbed at yourself in tight circles quickly bringing yourself to orgasm. Nami made a pleased sound as you moaned through it and devoured your cum.
Once she was done she looked up at you with a pleased smile. You knew you were definitely wearing this piece again.
Called cat-burgalar Nami cause shes getting all that pussy
Ëąá”á”á”á”ÊłÊž â The sexy pirate hasn't been able to take her eyes off you since she arrived in town. Are you going to give her your attention? Of course you are, damn it. After all... you'll only see her one last time before dawn. Go on... please her with that stupid shot game.
á”á”á”Ëą â Alcohol, sexual tension, Oral Sex, Nami is a girl kisser. MDNI!!
The sound of Igaramâs saxophone in the Whiskey Peak canteen is nothing more than white noiseâa blurry background of loud laughter, clinking mugs, and the out-of-tune chords of a party too perfect to be real. But for you, all that chaos boils down to two things: the clinking of the ice in your glass and the silhouette of the orange-haired navigator. She hasnât stopped scanning you with her eyes since she stepped into the place, and damn it, she knows exactly the effect sheâs having.
Nami leans over the table, resting her chin on the palm of her hand. Her blue eyes sparkled with a mix of fake drunkenness and a dangerously sharp lucidity. She looks you up and down, lingering a second too long on your lips before pretending to pay attention to the local "sister" again.
You know perfectly well that you shouldn't get close. Those pirates are doomed; before the sun hits the horizon, the entire crew will die at the hands of the town.
âWhat a waste... âyou scoff to yourself, remembering your true identity in this damn fake town.
A second later, the supposed nunâwho is none other than Miss Monday in disguiseâslams her forehead against the wood, completely defeated by the alcohol and, above all, by the pirate's cunning. Nami smirks with satisfaction and, with feline agility, begins to drag the pile of berries from the center of the table straight into her bag.
What the hell are you doing?, you ask yourself as your feet start moving toward her of their own accord. It's too late to back out now.
You cross the sea of drunk bounty hunters until you stand right behind Miss Monday. You lean against the back of her chair, leaning forward with your chin pressed against the wood, leaving you just inches away from the navigator. You look at her intently, defiantly.
âIs the game over? âyou ask.
Nami looks up immediately, finding you. Her surprise lasts barely a millisecond; a small, lethal smile forms at the corner of her lips. She isn't bothered by your boldness; on the contrary, she's fascinated.
âThe game is over for her... âNami jokes, nodding toward the knocked-out nunâ. Apparently, God wasn't on her side tonight.
âI can see that âyou nod, letting your gaze wander across the canteen.
In the distance, you see the rest of her crew enjoying the food and music, completely oblivious to the danger. It brings a strange mix of tenderness and pity to you. Poor, gullible idiots.
âDo you want to play? âshe suddenly proposes, breaking your thoughts. She leans a bit closer to you, lowering her voiceâ. I'm still sober enough to win again.
You raise an eyebrow, holding her gaze with a subtle smile.
âHow direct âyou replyâ. Do you always brag before you even know your opponent?
Nami lets out a dry chuckle and gets up from her seat. She walks toward you, closing the distance until you can smell the subtle perfume she's wearingâstrangely clean for a shady tavern.
âTake my seat, I'll handle this âshe whispers near your ear.
You're left almost jaw-dropped as you watch her grab the back of the chair where Miss Monday is slumped over and, with stunning ease, she pulls her away from the table as if she weighed nothing. How much strength is that damn pirate hiding under those light clothes?
Nami returns with an empty chair, placing it right in front of you without taking her eyes off you.
âWhat do you like to drink? âshe asks as she sits down, intertwining her fingers under her chin. She analyzes you as if you were a treasure map.
âWhatever you order will be fine. I've tried everything in this bar for as long as I can remember âyou say with total confidence, returning the power play.
She nods, pleased by your confidence. She turns slightly to look for a waiter and calls him over with a subtle wave of her hand in the air. As she does, the fabric of her shirt tightens and you notice the tattoo on her bicep; the way the muscle subtly tenses with the movement makes you narrow your eyes.
You like it. You like it way too much for someone whose hours are numbered.
âAnother round, miss? âasks the waiter, who looks more like a drunkard than an employee.
Nami nodded, holding up two fingers.
âTwo bottles of tequila. And new glasses, please.
The man hurries away. In the brief silence that settles between the two of you, the tension becomes so thick you could almost cut it. You share a knowing, dense smile, loaded with ulterior motives.
âMy name is Nami âshe finally introduces herself, extending a handâ. Though I think you're already aware that I came with a crew.
You don't hesitate to shake it. Her grip is firm, yet strangely soft. Perfect.
You tell her your name, and Nami savors the syllables in her mouth, dropping an immediate compliment that sends a shiver down your spine. This woman knows exactly how to charm someone: a perfect smile, just the right amount of chivalry, and compliments that sound dangerously sincere.
âYour crew is quite... energetic âyou remark, slowly sliding your hand out of hers, missing the contact almost instantly.
Nami sighs, shrugging with an amused reluctance.
âThey act like idiots the second they get an ounce of attention. But they're sweet, I can't help it.
You lean forward, resting your elbows on the table, shortening the space she had just created. Your gaze drops for a second to her lips before returning to her blue eyes.
âAnd you? How do you act when you get an ounce of attention?
Nami goes quiet for a moment. You notice how she breaks down the suggestive and bold tone you just used in her head. Her eyes flash with a dangerous spark and her smile widens.
Congratulations: you just became twice as interesting to her.
The waiter returns, breaking the trance, dropping two bottles of tequila and a row of small shot glasses onto the rough wooden table, gleaming under the dim light of the cantina.
Nami doesn't waste any time. With feline elegance, she slides the berries she won from Miss Monday and piles them right in the center, like a golden bait.
âSame rules âshe says, challenging you with her gazeâ. The one who ends up under the table pays. And the winner takes all.
You smirk. You reach into your pocket and pull out a bill of a much higher denomination, dropping it deliberately over her pile of money. The paper crinkles under your fingers, eclipsing her bet. Her gaze travels from your money to your eyes, and that spark of fascination on her face becomes almost electric.
âI like to bet big, Nami âyou tease, filling the first glasses right to the brim.
The first round consists of pacing through five shots back-to-back, one after the other, without blinking and without losing your bearings. Inside, you hide a smug little smile. You've seen Nami drink glass after glass against Miss Monday; no matter how good she is, the accumulated alcohol in her system should be taking its toll right about now. You expect to see her falter. You expect to see her lose control.
Huge mistake.
You clink the first glass. The liquid burns as it goes down your throat, but you maintain your composure. Nami mimics you. Second shot. Third. Fourth. By the fifth, the heat of the tequila has already flushed your cheeks and the noise of the cantina feels a little further away, more blurred.
Nami, however, doesn't even flinch.
She sets the fifth empty glass down on the table with a sharp, flawless thud, maintaining a posture so perfect it seems unreal. Her cheeks barely carry a slight flush that makes her look dangerously attractive, but her blue eyes remain two perfectly sharp daggers. She is untouched.
âTell me something about yourself... âshe murmurs. Her voice has dropped a notch, becoming thicker, more intimate.
She rests her elbows on the table, closing the distance. Your eyes involuntarily drop to her mouth and then to your own empty glass. Nami follows the path of your gaze, watching with an almost magnetic intensity how the pigment of your lipstick has stayed perfectly stamped on the rim of the glass. The contrast of the color against the glass seems to fascinate her.
âWhat do you want to know? âyou ask, matching her game while you play with the rim of your glass, brushing the carmine with the tip of your finger.
âI don't know... âNami leans in a bit closer, just enough for the heat radiating from her body to reach youâ. Have you ever left this island?
The question hits you like a bucket of cold water, snapping you back to reality for a second. You look into those blue eyes that seem to want to read your soul. She doesn't know. She doesn't know that this town is a facade, that you are a bounty hunter, and that in a few hours, this place will be a graveyard for her crew.
âFortunately, I wasn't born in this place âyou reply, letting a melancholic smile disguise the truthâ. I was able to... see the wonders of other islands.
Nami arches an eyebrow, caught by the mystery you radiate. Her hand, firm and confident, grabs the bottle again to fill the glasses once more. The clear liquid slides against the glass with a sound that now feels strangely sharp.
âWere your parents... pirates? âshe teases, drawing out her words with a playfulness meant to disarm you.
âMy parents weren't criminals âyou murmur.
You take the glass and let the fire of the tequila burn your throat, using it as a shield to keep from wavering. Nami takes her drink without taking her eyes off you, resting her chin on her hand.
âI thought people in this place loved pirates âshe lets slip, letting her gaze wander across the tavern, where the rest of Baroque Works is still cheering for Luffy and Zoroâ. I mean, look at your people's faces. They welcomed us like we were heroes.
Guilt and irony mix in your chest. You spin the empty glass between your fingers, staring at the trace of your lipstick, and lean a little closer to her. The distance between your faces is so short that you can notice her breath hitch subtly.
âDidn't you ever tell yourself... "this is too good to be true"? âyou let out in a whisper, carried away by the alcohol and a genuine, stupid need to warn her.
Nami freezes her hand mid-motion, leaving the bottle suspended in the air right at that moment. The festive atmosphere of the tavern seems to completely vanish between the two of you. Those blue eyes, which a second ago brimmed with pure flirtatiousness, turn cold, analytical, and dangerously sharp.
âAre you implying something? âshe asks, and her voice holds no trace of playfulness anymore.
You take another sip of the drink you just poured yourself, deliberately ignoring the flash of distrust beginning to tint the navigator's gaze. You know you're playing with fire, but the tension is addictive.
âWho were your parents? âshe insists, measuring your every gesture.
âBankers âyou lie with astonishing naturalness, holding her gazeâ. They lost their jobs, heard that this island needed people like them, and... ta-da, here we came.
A lie. A damn, perfect lie. You don't even remember your parents' faces. For as long as you can remember, your only family has been the organization, and your only purpose has been working as a low-ranking agent for Mr. 0.
Nami stares at you in silence for a few seconds, scrutinizing your features in search of a racing pulse or an evasive glance. Finally, the air trapped in her lungs escapes in a soft sigh, and the tension in her shoulders drops. She bought it. The Whiskey Peak facade remains intact... for now.
The redhead relaxes her posture and rests her elbows on the table again, her face recovering that sly smile that drives you crazy.
âBankers, huh? âshe says, reaching out to brush the tips of your fingers across the table, an electric contact that makes you hold your breathâ. That explains why my bet didn't scare you. I like women with resources.
The atmosphere between the two of you becomes so dense that the air almost seems to burn hotter than the tequila itself. The pirateâs words hang in the air, floating between the flickering candlelight and the echo of the party.
âDo you like me? âyou snap, direct, challenging the fine line that separates the game from reality.
Nami doesn't answer right away. Instead, an enigmatic, wicked smirk plays on her face. With agonizing slowness, she picks up her own full glass and, instead of bringing it to her mouth, tilts it gently forward, pressing the glass rim directly against your lips. Itâs a silent invitation, a command wrapped in feigned submission.
You don't back down. Holding her blue gaze, you part your lips and let the liquid slide down your throat. To steady her hand, you reach up and wrap your fingers around her wrist; your grip closes over her warm, firm skin, controlling her pulse so not a single drop spills. You can feel her heartbeat beneath your palm, a steady rhythm that subtly quickens at your touch.
When Nami pulls the glass away, her eyes instantly drop to the crystal. The pigment of your lipstick has now colored the rim of her glass too, leaving a mark identical to yours. A shared imprint.
âNice lipstick âshe murmurs, running her thumb over the stained rim without taking her eyes off you.
âWant to taste it? âyou blur out, with a boldness that the alcohol has only fueled.
Namiâs smile widens, an expression dripping with lethal sensuality. She glances to the side for a brief second, as if calculating how much time she has left before the ship has to sail, before this one-night idyll turns to ashes. When she looks back at you, her eyes gleam with a dangerous promise.
âMaybe after this round... âshe whispers.
The tension between the two of you becomes almost suffocating, an invisible thread tightening with every shared breath. The heat of the tequila rushes through your veins, giving you that reckless bravery only possessed by those who have nothing left to lose.
You look back at the pile of berries resting in the center of the table, the blood-stained loot of lies Nami snatched from Miss Monday. You tap your fingers softly against the wood, catching her attention.
âLetâs make this more interesting âyou propose, narrowing your eyes with a bold smileâ. If I win this last round... you give me the earnings you took from the nun. All of it.
Nami lets out a low, husky laugh that reverberates in your chest. She leans back against the backrest of her chair, crossing her arms while looking at you with a mix of amusement and respect. She gets off on being challenged, especially by someone who knows how to play their cards as well as you do.
âYouâre greedy. I like it âshe accepts, tilting her head condescendinglyâ. Alright. The church money is yours if you manage to take me down.
The navigator suddenly leans forward, resting her elbows on the table and closing all the distance she had just put between you two. Her blue eyes gleam with a predatory focus, stripped of any trace of shyness. She holds your gaze, trapping you in her net before dropping her condition.
âBut if I win... âshe whispers, her voice taking on a husky, dangerously possessive edgeâ. Youâre coming with me to the ship.
The air freezes in your lungs. Nami catches the split second of hesitation in your eyes, and her smirk widens, savoring her advantage. She slides her hand across the table until her fingers brush against yours, a slow caress heavy with promise.
âWhatâs the matter? âshe teases, using that soft tone that makes your legs go weakâ. Are you scared of the price of losing to me?
âI donât scare easy, darling âyou shot back, forcing a confidence you were rapidly losing.
But Nami knew she had you. She didn't just pour another shot; she poured a countdown.
What followed was a blur of burning throat stings and scathing, razor-sharp flirting. With every glass emptied, Nami didn't back away; she moved closer, her thighs practically brushing against yours under the table. Her gaze was heavy, hooded, and entirely focused on you. She would lean in to whisper something entirely inappropriate against the shell of your ear, her warm breath sending shivers down your spine, only to pull back with a smug, knowing smirk as she watched your pupils dilate.
The scathing remarks, the casual touches of her fingers tracing the back of your hand, the way her eyes kept dropping to your lipsâit was a sensory overload. The tequila was making your head spin, but Namiâs absolute control over the situation was what truly made your knees weak. You could feel it, a heavy, throbbing ache between your thighs, the undeniable, embarrassing dampness soaking into your panties with every passing minute.
You were losing. Not just the game, but every single ounce of your composure.
By the time the next bottle was half-empty, your hand trembled slightly as you reached for the glass. Nami noticed. She didn't let you pick it up. Instead, her hand slid firmly over yours, pinning your fingers to the wooden table. Her touch was scorching hot.
âGive up âshe whispered, her voice dangerously dark, dripping with a lethal, seductive promiseâ. You can't take another one, and we're both wasting precious time.
You looked at the shot glass, then up into her intense blue eyes. The room was spinning, your body was practically humming with a desperate, sinful need, and the sheer heat between your legs was driving you insane.
Slowly, you let your fingers relax under hers. You leaned back, a breathless, defeated sigh escaping your lips.
âI yield âyou breathed out, the confession sounding more like a plea.
Namiâs smirk turned into something feral, victorious, and incredibly sexy. She didn't care about the pile of berries in the center of the table anymore. She slid her hand from your fingers up to your wrist, tugging you gently but firmly out of your chair.
âGood girl âshe murmured against your ear, her lips brushing your flushed skin, making you gasp softlyâ. Now... let's go collect my prize.
The transition from the noisy, suffocating air of the cantina to the quiet, salt-crusted deck of the Going Merry had been nothing but a blur of stumbling steps, tightly gripped wrists, and breathless laughter. Nami hadn't wasted a single, precious second. The moment the wooden door of the ship's galley clicked shut behind you both, burying the outside world in shadows, she didn't just claim her prizeâshe took it by storm.
She slammed you against the kitchen counter with enough force to rattle the hanging pans above, her body instantly pinning yours against the cold wood. Before you could even catch your breath, her mouth was on yours. It wasn't the polite, calculating kiss of a clever thief; it was an absolute onslaught.
Nami kissed you like she was trying to consume you, her tongue tangling with yours in a messy, tequila-fueled rhythm that left you completely dizzy. Low, breathless curses escaped her lips against your mouth between desperate gasps for air, her words a jagged, slurred mess of unfiltered desire.
âYouâre mine âshe growled against your lips, her fingers digging bruisingly tight into your hipsâ. My fucking prize. And I am going to ruin you.
She wasn't lying. She had been grinding against you since the second you walked through the door, her thigh slotted firmly between your legs, rubbing right against the drenched silk of your panties until you were practically begging for release. But Nami wanted more. She wanted to taste exactly how ruined you were for her.
With a harsh, impatient tug, she had you stripped from the waist down, her rough hands dragging you right to the edge of the counter.
Now, the only sound filling the dim galley is the heavy, uneven breathing of the navigator and the pathetic, broken whimpers tearing from your throat. Nami is on her knees, her head completely buried between your thighs. Her hands are clamped like vices around the backs of your knees, pushing your legs wide apart, forcing you to take every single bit of her.
You are completely unraveled, your back arching so hard off the counter it hurts, your fingers desperately clutching her bright orange hair as you try to survive the sheer intensity of her mouth. Her tongue is mercilessâbroad, wet, and heavyâswirling flat against your swollen, hyper-sensitive clit before burying itself deep inside you, mimicking a tight, slick friction that has you completely losing your mind.
âN-Nami, please... âyou sob out, the tears finally slipping down your flushed cheeks as your hips jerk involuntarily against her face.
Nami doesn't stop. If anything, your crying only fuels her. She lets out a dark, muffled hum against your soaked flesh, using her fingers to stretch you wide open while her tongue pushes even deeper, grinding relentlessly against the center of your pleasure. She is milking you dry, devouring every drop of the sweet, messy slick you've been producing for her all night, completely indifferent to the fact that the dawn is creeping closer.
She's going to make you come until you can't walk, cementing her victory in the worst, most delicious way possible.
The heat in the kitchen is absolute, suffocating, and entirely centered on the space between your thighs. Nami is completely feral, utterly addicted to the wet, sweet taste of you.
When she first walked into that shady cantina, her only goal had been to figure you out, to reel you into her orbit just to see what kind of reaction she could get out of the prettiest girl in the room. But this? Being brought to her knees, her face entirely buried in your lap while you come apart at the seams? She hadn't planned it. She hadn't expected to find someone who would unravel so beautifully, so violently under her touch.
And damn it, she is incredibly proud of herself.
âN-Namiâah!
Your voice cracks, a broken, desperate sob tearing from your chest as the first wave of your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave. Your hips jerk forward, completely out of your control, slamming right against her mouth. Your fingers tighten in her orange hair, pulling her closer, dragging her deeper into your own undoing.
Nami doesn't flinch. Instead, she welcomes the impact. Her grip on your thighs turns bruisingly tight, locking you in place so you can't squirm away from the pleasure. She keeps her tongue buried deep inside you, drinking you in as your walls contract in tight, desperate spasms, milking every single drop of your slick right over her lips, her chin, her cheeks.
You are crying out, your back arched so high off the counter that your spine tingles, your vision going completely dark as you ride the high of a shattering climax. You are giving her everything, soaking her face in the undeniable proof of how thoroughly she has ruined you.
Against your drenched flesh, Nami lets out a muffled, vibrating chuckle. It sends a sharp, electric buzz straight to your clit, making your thighs twitch weakly.
Slowly, deliberately, she drags her tongue upward one last time, lapping up the final, trembling traces of your release before finally pulling her face away.
You slump back against the kitchen counter, panting heavily, your chest heaving as the room slowly stops spinning. Your legs are still trembling, shaking so badly you can barely keep them up. Through half-lidded, tear-blurred eyes, you look down at the navigator.
Nami is still on her knees, looking up at you like a creature that has just had its fill. Your slick is smeared all over her lips and chin, glistening under the faint, dim moonlight filtering through the galley window. She looks absolutely filthy, dangerous, and utterly breathtaking.
She swipes her tongue over her lower lip, tasting you one last time, and a smug, victorious smirk stretches across her face.
âLook at you âNami murmurs, her voice thick, raspy, and dripping with an intoxicating pride. She reaches up, using two fingers to gently pinch your chin, forcing you to look at her satisfactionâ. All that big talk in the bar, and you melted for me after just one round.
You try to find your voice, but all that comes out is a breathless, pathetic whine. Your inner thighs are twitching, completely spent, yet Namiâs fingers on your chin feel like a brand keeping you anchored to her.
She doesnât let you recover. Standing up slowly, the navigator hovers over you, her knees slotting right back between yours. She leans in until her nose brushes against yours, her breathing still heavy, her scent completely mixed with the sharp tang of tequila and the overwhelming sweetness of your own slick.
âYou're pathetic like this âshe whispers, though there isn't a single drop of malice in her tone. Itâs pure, unadulterated indulgenceâ. So loud. I bet the whole docks could hear you.
âShut up⊠âyou choke out, your face flushing a violent crimson as you try to push her shoulders away. Your arms feel like leadâ. You⊠you cheated. You weren't supposed to be that sober.
Nami lets out a soft, throbbing laugh against your lips, her hand sliding down from your chin to wrap firmly around the back of your neck. She pulls you into a slow, bruising kiss, deliberately smearing the remnants of your release right back onto your mouth. It tastes intoxicatingly sinful.
âA pirate doesn't cheat, darling âshe murmurs against your lips, her thumb caressing your pulsing jugularâ. We just know how to secure the prize.
whiplash era giselle #nooticing that reader finds her thighs so attractive and is getting so turned on all the time because of them, so she starts wearing more revealing clothes and waits until reader is turned into a walking mess just so she can sit on her face caging her between her thighs and uhnmmnm yesddsdsdxsdzsd
pairing. dom!uchinaga aeri x sub!fem reader.
content warnings. face sitting, teasing.
giselle has always had a body that stands out among her bandmates and is hard to ignore, especially when it comes to her thighs or legs in general... and itâs not even about seeing it in a perverted way, but rather something that attracts attention and catches anyoneâs eye because of the healthy and fit body she maintains.
she is aware of how she looks and the effect her body has on others, without even caring too much if fans or netizens go crazy about it because itâs a topic she doesnât care about at all, if youâll allow me to say so honestly. but she changes her mind about it when she realizes that one of her group members is affected by her... she is used to compliments or flattery about her body, even to others giving their opinions about her in any kind of aspect, something that doesnât interest her in the slightest because she doesnât pay attention to how others think about her â but when it comes to you, she completely changes her perspective and thoughts on the matter because seeing you so affected by something so simple makes her feel different. she canât explain why or how this happens, but seeing you silently watch her when you think she doesnât notice gives her confidence a boost.
from the moment she realizes that your gaze is fixed on her body, itâa when she starts wearing outfits that flatter her figure more. sheâs not usually someone who gets a lot of praise from her stylist because she doesnât usually have the best outfits, but it seems that everyone is on her side because the stylist manages to make her more appreciated and helps her look more beautiful and stand out on stage. and of course she uses that to her advantage because from that moment on she always tries to look super sexy and provocative, especially when she knows youâre watching her.
âthegirlintheclub â you love to party , you also love to make bad decisions when it came to pretty girls in the club..
( giselle x fem!reader ) âą warnings. drug usage, oral , strap kissing/sucking, strap on sex, tribbing , language. đ” word count. 1483 { back to library }
you loved partying; going to different clubs, hopping from club to club, drinking and dancing with your friends until the sun came up â occasionally doing subsistences with pretty strangers , which led you to kissing pretty strangers in the club bathrooms. you just loved clubbing and partying.
normally you went out with your friends; but tonight you were alone , and you didnât mind â because you knew by the end of it you wouldnât be. you squeezed through the crowds of the crowded club , pulling down your sparkly black mini skirt , making your way to the bar to order a drink.
âiâll pay for it , iâll have the same thing sheâs having.â
you turned to face the person; she was gorgeous. âthank you.â you smiled , the girl stood in front of your seat. âbut i couldâve paid for it.â
âi didnât say you couldnât , but i wanted to pay for you.â
âim giselle.â she spoke , her arm resting on the bar counter. âyou come in here a lot , but tonight youâre alone.â her eyes falling to your lips.
âmy friends didnât want to party , theyâre being boring tonight.â you said. âthey said i party too hard.â doing quotations with your fingers.
âwell iâve seen you , you do go pretty hard.â the bartender returned with drinks , sitting them in front of you. âyou can party with me tonight if you want.â she smiled , opening her palms , two tiny pills in her hand.
âyou donât have to if you donât want to.â she picked a pill out from her palm , putting it on her tongue before swallowing it , picking up the shot , downing it right after. âthereâs no pressure.â
you knew youâd regret this in the morning when it was time to get up â but youâd deal with it then. she watched you picked the pill up , putting it on your tongue , swallowing it; also downing the shot. âiâm here to have fun , letâs have fun.â
she grabbed your hand , guiding you to the middle of the dance floor , her hands finding your waist with ease , your arms wrapping around her neck; the two of you dancing to the loud music as the pills started to set it.
she spun you around; your body flushed against hers , giselleâs hands wondering all over your bodies , your body heating up due to both the pills , and the heat of the club â but also the girl currently kissing your neck , her hands grabbing at every inch of your body that she could get her hands on. âyouâre so fucking hot.â
âi really want to kiss you.â
turning back around , you smirked; grabbing her cheeks pulling her into a slopping , wet kiss. your tongues dancing together. you moaned into the kiss as her hands traveled down to your ass ; giving it a light squeeze. âthatâs what i like to hear.â
you werenât sure how many bad decisions youâd make before the night was over , but you surely didnât stop her from grabbing your hand , guiding you to the club exit. âwhere are we going?â
âmy place.â
her apartment wasnât that far away , so the walk wasn't bad; it was full of giggles from the pill , and stopping for a makeout in the middle of the sidewalk , her almond shaped nails scratching down your back lightly. âcanât wait to take this off.â snapped the back of your bra.
before you opened the door to her apartment ; she was pushing you against the solid wood , her hand ghosting around your neck , not to choke you , but you felt it. âyouâre gonna be a good girl for me right?â her lips barely on yours , smiling when you nodded , looking into your blown out eyes.
you guys finally made it into the house; your skirt was already pushed up on your waist before you made it to her room ; but she pushed you down on the bed , dropping to her knees in front of your legs. âlet me see that pretty pussy.â
she slapped the sides of your thighs. âyeah thatâs it.â she kissed the plush , spreading your thighs apart. âgood girl.â her hands reaching up to pull your panties down.
âgiselle.â
her nose brushing your clit as she engulfed your pussy. âfuck.â your hands coming up to her long hair , tugging at it , throwing your head back. youâve never received head like that before â she ate you up like she was starving , her hands traveling up as her mouth never left your lower half , her hands moving quick as she snapped your bra off. âgiselle iâm gonna cum!â
that didnât stop her , her arm hooking under your thigh , throwing your leg over her shoulder, pushing you down on the bed â your moans turning into pleasurable screams as she didnât let up on your clit , sucking it making you twitch. âoh fuckkk!â you squealed.
âfuck iâm cumming.â
she looked up at you , her eyes blown out , dark with lust as you came all over her mouth. she eagerly slurped up all your juices , leaving kisses on your clit as she got up. âtaste just as good as you look.â her lips were once again on yours , your lips dancing together , the pill taking over fully , she pulled away with a lazy smirk , standing up.
âgo up there and lay there and look pretty for me.â
she immediately started stripping herself of her clothes , opening her closet door. she bent down giving you a preview of her ass , standing up , turning around the harness in her hand. âcutie.â she smiled as you eyed the toy , it was definitely bigger than anything youâve taken â man or women. âyouâre drooling.â
she put the harness on , climbing back on the bed , wiping your bottom lip. âyou wanna give it a kiss?â you were quick on your knees , giving the plastic toy a quick kiss. âlook at youâ
her hand gently pushing your head down on the toy , letting her push your head down. she yanked your head off the toy; you let her manhandle you into position , your ass in the air. âlook at that ass.â she massaged it.
âyou want it?â
lining her cock up with your entrance; rubbing the cock along your folds. âyou hear that?â pushing the tip into you. âhow wet your pussy is?â sinking fully inside of you.
her hands tangling up in your hair , tugging at as she pounded into you. âgiselle!â the cock touching deep inside you , her hips slapping against yours. âdeeper please â harderâŠâ
she gave into your wants , pushing your head into a pillow; arching your back to get a deeper angle â going harder , tears filling your water line as she fucked you. âwant you to cream my cock.â she whispered into your ear. âmake a fucking mess on me.â
pushing her cock as deep as it could go , your legs shook as you came; squirting all over the toy. âfuck , thatâs it.â she pulled out , slapping your ass. âmade such a mess.â
you felt dizzy , but in a good way; like you were floating , only being pulled back when she grabbed your face. âyou still with me?â you nodded , she smiled, kissing your lips. âgood.â
she hooked your legs , her clit kissing yours , your anklet dangling by her ear as she moved. âfuck baby.â she moaned out , holding your calf , kissing it as she began to speed , both your moans getting louder , the headboard hitting the wall. âshit!â
you reached up , grabbing her boob , running your thumb along her nipple , watching it pebble up. your buds touching , making her hunch over , still moving as she kissed your neck tenderly. âsuch a slippery pussy , youâre gonna make me cum.â
she moaned into your ear , your third orgasm approaching quickly. âcum with me.â she cursed. âwant you to cum all over my pussy.â she screamed , going faster , squeezing your boob. âfuck!â
both of you moaning out loud as you came , your juices mixing together , messing up the spot below you as you rode out your orgasm. âfuck thatâs was so hot.â she kissed you messily , spit dripping from both of your mouths as she pulled away. âyouâre so fucking hot.â
unhooking your legs , she fell next to you; her hair splayed on the pillow like a halo , her skin coated with a sheen of sweat. âyouâre staring at me like you want to eat me.â she smirked , you took in her naked form. âiâm not against it.â you said , now sitting on your knees. âif you do , thereâs no way iâm letting you leave tonight , hell you may never get rid of me.â
âso youâre saying that itâs a bad decision?â
she pulled you into a kiss , your hands resting on her bare thigh , she pulled away. âiâm saying youâve already made so many bad decisions already.â
âbut that might be the worst one tonight.â
and you clearly didnât care , because you were already working your way in between her thighs.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
Imagine switch!officer!aespa x switch!fem!reader where reader is the new hire and aespa is in charge of training reader. While they give reader useful tips, itâs also an abuse of power behind closed doors. If reader wants their respect or a promotion then she gotta do everything they say or risk getting fired.𫥠Being an officer isnât easy, so they obviously need to relieve stress. Eat them out underneath their desk, fuck them with the strap, let them use your pussy or whatever! Make no mistake friend, even if reader is on top, aespa is still the one whoâs making the calls. đ€
pairing. switch!aespa x switch!fem reader.
content warnings. abuse of power, blackmail, corruption, cunnilingus, face fucking, face sitting, riding.
karina being your main guide because sheâs the officer the police chief trusts most, so youâve been by her side from the beginning because sheâs the one who directs most of the time. she is super professional in the field because from training and rookie days she proved herself firm in upholding the law, so youâre not in the mood for games when it comes to being under her charge and supervision because sheâs super authoritarian. she absolutely does not tolerate misconduct at work because being a police officer implies authority and maturity, being firm in her stance of firmness and seriousness in the workplace, because otherwise you are disrespecting your position. but she stops being so harsh about her stance and thoughts when it comes to you. she doesnât know clearly and exactly why her posture changes slightly when sheâs with you, but thereâs something about your inexperience that softens her, even if only a little.
but that doesnât mean sheâll stop being professional just because a novice is here to be trained by her! although she starts to appear more often with you once she manages to make you willing to do anything to avoid breaking her trust and hope in you. as the person primarily responsible for training and preparing you for the future, she has to prioritize helping you over her job, so you canât disappoint her! but if the moment ever comes when you accidentally do something that shatters that perfect image and thought she had of you, the best way to make amends for your mistake is to give her a head in the form of an apology <3 she absolutely loves it when sheâs doing important paperwork and long reports, but she doesnât have to worry about them because she has you kneeling under the desk and busy devouring her pussy.
giselle is a bit more relaxed but no less professional because she is karinaâs closest colleague, therefore, you can expect a fairly similar attitude and behavior from her. sheâs like a cool person you can joke around with during breaks and even chat with at some point during your shift, but you shouldnât confuse work with friendship because she only speaks to you out of respect and commitment, not to make friends in her work area. she will always be respectful to you because she has manners and she would never disrespect you for anything in the world, but you have to be aware that sheâs not interested in you in any way other than as a new coâworker.
and even if she shows minimal interest in you, she still holds considerable authority over you because you are certainly intimidated by her and her attitude. for her, itâs so easy to give you commands and orders whenever she wants or feels like it, because she is aware that you will do absolutely anything she asks because in no context or situation would you be able to say no to her or even try to contradict her. and that's precisely why she uses that power she has to easily get you to do whatever she wants:
winter and ningning are a saving grace here because they seem to be the only people at the police station who don't want to make your life miserable. luckily, from the first day you walked through that door they were very kind and friendly to you, giving you a quick tour of the entire barracks and explaining any basic information about the place you might need, giving you a warm welcome that felt like a relief because you felt like you wouldnât get out of that place alive.
and they truly prevent you from going through hell there because their attitudes and personalities provide great relief, especially when you spend your breaks with them: on any given day, one of you would drive the patrol car to a fast food place and order something, parking in some parking lot and ending up with the three of you chatting casually while enjoying a hot and delicious meal â but there are other times when that pair has other plans in mind because they want to make the most of their break đ ending up lying on the back seats of the patrol car, giving winter total freedom to ride your leash or grind her wet pussy against yours, barely paying attention to it because your concentration is occupied since ningning is literally sitting on your face and moving her hips so brutally against your face so she can fuck her cunt in your mouth,
gp winselle giving you punishment ?đ SMUT 18+ G!P
They've always been mean with you whenever they came into your home with their parents who are good friends with yours, the two families being close friends with each others, and everyone thought Winselle were being nice with you, which was completely false. So you didn't want to stay silent and suffer from this, so you told her parents who gave them a punishment, but the two girls didn't appreciate what you did!
So when both your families were on a dinner hang out, they knocked at your front door and you regretted opening that godamn entry as they closed the door behind them, causing you to open your eyes wide, feeling stupid from being so clueless as you already knew they'd be mad at you.
But, instead of having those strong and angry expressions they always wore whenever they were around you, they..smirked ?
Of course, because they were being the sadistic mean girls you knew.
They'd drag you to the kitchen, approaching the counter.
"You're getting a little punishment for not being able to shut your mouth, babygirl" Giselle starts, and of course she would call you babygirl, it was obvious seeing her face and how she decided to live her life.
Winter looked at you, and said, as if it was to convince you : "Our cocks need attention, anyway" but they didn't give you the time to answer.
Giselle and winter would waste no time undressing themselves and undressing you, because they're so horny knowing they will be able to use you for their pleasure, and you gulp when you take their amazing, perfect sizes, that they hold in their hand, half hardened.
After some rushed kisses and touches, Giselle sits on top of the counter facing you, her cock at a little bit lower than your head, so you know you'd have to bend down.
"Remember" Winter watches at the side, "when you come her mouth is mine" she reminded Giselle, causing the other girl to roll her eyes in annoyance, already acknowledging Winter was very excited at the idea of having to use your mouth, given away by her hungry stare on your opened jaw, and yes, you couldn't wait any further, lowkey needing your mouth to be used by them!
So Giselle grips your hair in one hand, guiding your head to go lower to finally be hovering against her member.
And she gulps in arousal, not wasting any seconds, pushing you down inch by inch around her length.
"Fuck, your slutty mouth is taking me so well" she breathes out.
Tonight, it would be their night, as they were determined to show you why you shouldn't have told them on.
When her dick is finally buried deep inside your cavity, she grips your hair tightly but not painfully, making you slide up and down around her cock.
She moans : "This is so good damnit".
Winter would be watching, hands holding her crotch, trying to wait for her turn so desperately, but she was so smart she would find a way to take you at the same time!
The drool dripping down on her shaft mixed with her pre-cum makes everything easier for her.
The way the member stretches your lips so perfectly, creating a bulge on your hollowing cheeks, and hitting your throat repeatedly.
The sight is so mesmerizing that she starts to drool herself, not able to contain her building up pleasure đ€€
She couldn't stay in place, her hips moving up just a little to hit deeper.
And for sure, Winter already found it, your ass cheeks standing completely at her mercy in front of her, like a cake ready to be eaten.
She had taken her lube with her just in case, she's so incredible.
She opens the bottle, squirts a generous amount of the lubricant on her other hand, and she wipes her palms together to finally spread it on her member, stroking on it a little.
She smirks to herself, glad she found a way to wait for her turn!
She aligns the tip with your entrance, making you whine on Giselle's size, and the vibrations be making her use your head faster.
Winter holds your hips and hurriedly thrusts into your asshole, stretching you open around her length as she only waits 5 seconds to let you adjust, and then she rocks her hips forward and backward again, her hips moving in a fascinating manner.
"So tight" she pants, listening to her lube wet member manipulating your inner walls in tight but smooth come and go's.
Your hole is accommodating her huge size, and you grip Giselle's thighs as you moan on her shaft, and it's humming so good on her size that she reaches a quick pace now, focusing on her own pleasure.
The double penetration is giving you those overwhelming sensations, Giselle entirely controlling your head movements back and forth onto her silky dick, and Winter worshipping your insides opening for her dick with each thrust, her experienced movements making you feel your orgasm coming soon.
But you weren't the only one, they were both moving desperately and frantically in and out your two holes.
"I'm..close..fuck" Giselle groans, looking at Winter's member disappear and reappear quickly.
Winter looks up at Giselle, hands gripping your hips strongly to hold you steady while she narrowly pounded, feeling her imminent Climax. "Me too.."
But you're the first to come, unable to hold it anymore.
Your thighs tremble as you come down while moaning their names, and winter rubs two fingers on your cunt, catching some of your juices and putting the digits in her mouth to taste you, and then her grip unexpectedly came back to your hips as she buried herself deep inside of you, releasing her load into rapid pulses of her semen stuffing in your hole.
She stays like that, deep inside you, waiting for her cum to be released properly.
Almost at the same moment, Giselle forcefully buried your cavity deep down around her, so that she could fill your mouth with her salty, sticky liquid that you tasted.
"Drink, babygirl, that's good." She smirks down at you, definitely satisfied.
She remains using your mouth up and down on her shaft as she cummed.
"Show how hungry you are for our big dicks" And when you're done, she lets you go and gets off the counter.
Winter couldn't wait no more !
She fastly got up the counter and looked at you from above, knowing one of her biggest dreams was gonna be released in only some seconds.
Giselle, her, took Winter's previous place behind you, as content as the other girl because she had never fucked anyone from behind, and she wipes a handful of your wetness to apply it onto her member.
You can see Winter's size more closely now, realizing she was bigger đźâđš
She took your hair in a firm ponytail, and forced her tip in your mouth, amazed at the incredible feeling of this only.
You sucked on her, and she stayed like that for a moment.
Giselle was too ecstatic right now, focused on the sensation of her cock slowly, deeply entering you, your walls gathering all around it.
"Fuck, you're so tight!" She cries out loudly.
She took your hips and began pounding into you slowly, discovering the new position and the feeling it was creating.
Winter was as pleasured as her, loving the filling of her spit wet girth being wrapped around your head that she entirely controlled.
The way the slippery and wet sounds of her glistening shaft sliding could be heard, the constant schlecks and shlichks and your gagging sounds made thanks to your extra saliva.
She bites her lip: "Look at how fucking wet my dick is because of your spit, it's sliding in and out so perfectly.."
Her enormous dick was slipping all the way past your uvula, the sticky surface of the skin brushing your inner walls again and again, and sliding in your throat.
Giselle, now, found your spongy spots, because every time she would hit them, your muffled gasps would be heard, so she gets an idea, typic of her, because she had a playful nature.
So when she's buried deep inside, she wouldn't slide all the way out, causing her to move faster, with more control, and hitting the spots more often.
She can stimulate your walls easier, massing the spots over and over again.
You can't keep with this new sensation, your vocal cords trembling nonstop around Winter's member, who began picking up her pace in desperation.
Slippery, slick noises filled the room, followed by your constants muffled moans and groans of the girls.
And the two of them could feel their orgasm build up "So close.." Giselle started picking up a brutal face, trying to get you steady but it was so intense she couldn't stop the fact that you were moving forward everytime she slid in, causing you to unconsciously move down on Winter's wood, and she let out a desperate choked cry. "Fuck! Don't..stop.."
Winter's eyes began to get unfocused as she chased her orgasm, making you choke on her cock because she used so much force and didn't care anymore!
They soon filled you with their thick seeds, you drinking down to taste Winter, she was as salty as Giselle but there was a particular smell of it, and without forgetting that you've already came before them both!
It was too overwhelming for you.
Just as you thought it was finished, Giselle pulled out and checked the time for Winter, telling her to be fast before the parents would start to come back, and yes they had calculated how much time your parents would make before driving back home.
"Alright pet" Winter kneeled you down
"Last one before we go back home" she's profile faced to the counter, her left arm on it to steady herself as her other one grabbed your hair roughly.
She angled her tip against your mouth. "Open up for your master" she commanded, and you complied, your gap opening wide for her, happy to be dominated by her.
And fuck, how she would stretch that pretty little mouth open again, allowing you to taste her previous cums.
The way she would start pounding in your cavity with circular, expert circles motions of her midriff, right hand holding you still by the back of your head while the other one gripped the edge of the hard counter, allowing her to have more strength.
She'd look up, lost in the sensations of your mouth soaking her and taking all of her huge dick.
"Your mouth feels so incredible" she closes her eyes.
The way her soaked girth was making your lips stretch wide again and again, the skin of her length rubbing back and forth just up against your tongue.
And the fact that she starts using the same method as Giselle did in your ass, the slippery dick of hers only sliding out a little every time, allowing it to stimulate your throat, massaging the inner walls repeatedly, making you gag.
And giselle would be watching, checking the time to see that they had only 5 minutes left, and trying to hurry Winter up but this one was too buried deep into the wonderful sensations.
before unboxingâ smut, fake dating, fingering, gay vagina sex (ty @ihugwinrina for dis), childhood friends to lovers, dirty talk, strong language, alcohol consumption, etc
notes from staffâ finally coming back guys đ this has been in the drafts for weeks and itâs 12 am sorry if this is dook
you've known kim minjeong since you were seven years old.
back then, she was the quiet girl who sat in the corner of your second-grade classroom, the one with her nose always buried in a book during recess while the other kids played tag in the schoolyard. you'd approached her one spring afternoon because you'd forgotten your lunch and she was the only one who looked like she wouldn't laugh at you for it. instead, she'd silently split her gimbap in half and offered you the bigger piece without a word.
that was eighteen years ago, and somehow, you're still in each other's lives.
minjeong grew up to be beautiful in that understated way. the kind of pretty that sneaks up on people. sharp jawline, soft features, cute chubby cheeks, expressive eyes that crinkle when she smiles. she's always been on the quieter side, a little shy, a little reserved. but around you? she's different, comfortable, real.
she works as a freelance graphic designer now, which means she sets her own hours and spends most of her time in oversized hoodies, sitting in cafes with her macbook and an iced americano. you went into marketing, which is how you ended up at the same coffee shop in hongdae on a random tuesday afternoon when your life started to unravel just a little bit.
"you look stressed," minjeong said as she slid into the seat across from you, her curly hair pulled back into a messy half-updo. she was wearing a black leather jacket over a blue crop top, the outfit somehow both edgy and effortless.
you groaned, dropping your phone onto the table. "my cousin's wedding is in two weeks."
"okay?"
"and my mom won't stop asking if i'm bringing someone."
minjeong took a long sip of her coffee, eyebrows raised slightly. "well⊠are you?"
"no. obviously not. i haven't dated anyone in like a year." you rubbed your temples. "but she's convinced i'm going to show up alone and embarrass the family or whatever. she keeps trying to set me up with her friends' sons. it's a nightmare."
"so bring someone."
"who? all my friends are busy or already coupled up."
there was a pause.
minjeong tilted her head, studying you with those dark, thoughtful eyes. then she shrugged, so casual it almost seemed rehearsed. "i'll go with you."
you blinked. "what?"
"i said i'll go. pretend to be your girlfriend. it's not like i have anything else going on, and honestly?" she smiled a little, that rare flash of mischief crossing her face. "i'm kind of bored."
your heart did this stupid little flip in your chest, which was ridiculous because this was kim minjeong. your childhood best friend. the girl who once cried because she accidentally stepped on a snail. the girl who knew every embarrassing thing about you and still chose to stick around.
"you... you'd really do that?"
"yeah. why not?" she leaned back in her chair, looking entirely too pleased with herself. "besides, it might be fun. i've never been to a wedding as someone's fake girlfriend before."
"minjeongâ"
"just say yes. you need a date, i need something to do. it's perfect."
and that's how you ended up here, two weeks later, standing outside the shilla hotel in seoul with minjeong beside you, looking absolutely devastating in a tailored black suit that hugged her frame in all the right places. her hair was styled in those loose curls you loved, tumbling past her shoulders. she'd done her makeup tooâ subtle but striking, with a hint of shimmer on her lids and a nude lip that made you stare a second too long.
"stop looking at me like that," she murmured, a faint blush creeping up her neck.
"like what?"
"like you're nervous. we're supposed to be dating, remember?"
right⊠dating. fake dating.
you took a breath and linked your arm through hers. her body was warm against yours, and you tried not to think about how natural it felt.
the wedding hall was gorgeous, all white flowers and golden accents, the kind of elegance that screamed old money. your relatives were already mingling, glasses of champagne in hand, and you could feel their eyes on you the second you walked in with minjeong.
"is that her?" your mom appeared almost instantly, her expression a mix of surprise and approval. "you didn't tell me you were seeing someone!"
"yeah, well... it's still pretty new," you said, feeling minjeong's hand settle on the small of your back.
"ah, hello, i'm kim minjeong," she said, bowing politely. her voice was soft, respectful. "it's nice to meet you, eomeoni."
your mom practically melted. "oh, she's so polite! and so pretty. how long have you two been together?"
"a few months," you lied smoothly, and minjeong nodded along, her thumb tracing idle circles against your spine through the fabric of your dress.
it should have felt wrong. it should have felt awkward.
instead, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
everything went smoothâ the ceremony was beautiful, and you barely paid attention to it. you were too aware of minjeong sitting beside you, her thigh pressed against yours, her fingers occasionally brushing your hand where it rested on your lap, every touch felt deliberate, intentional.
during the reception, you were seated at a table with some of your cousins, all of whom were very interested in grilling minjeong about your relationship.
"so how did you two meet?" one of them asked.
"we've known each other since elementary school," minjeong said, smiling. "but we didn't start dating until recently."
"childhood friends to lovers? that's so cute!"
you felt your cheeks heat up, but minjeong just laughed, her hand finding yours under the table and squeezing gently.
later, after the toasts and the cake cutting, minjeong leaned close, her lips brushing the shell of your ear.
"want to get out of here for a bit?"
your pulse quickened. "where?"
"our room. i need a break from all the questions."
you'd booked a suite at the hotel for the night. it seemed easier than driving back to seoul after the reception. the plan had been to just crash and deal with the aftermath of the fake dating ruse tomorrow.
but when minjeong looked at you like that, her eyes dark and unreadable, you found yourself nodding.
the hotel room was spacious, with a king-sized bed and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. minjeong kicked off her heels the second the door closed behind you, sighing in relief.
"thank god. those were killing me."
you laughed, setting your clutch on the dresser. "you did great today, by the way. so very convincing."
"yeah?" she turned to face you, and there was something different in her expression now. something bolder. "i had a good time. your family's really sweet."
"they loved you."
"and you?" she took a step closer. "did you love me?"
the question hung in the air between you, weighted with something unspoken. you just smiled and nodded.
"of course.â
"we should practice," she said suddenly.
"practice what?"
"kissing." her cheeks flushed, but she held your gaze. "i mean, we're supposed to be dating, right? what if someone expects us to kiss in public? we should make sure it looks real."
your mouth went dry. "you want to practice kissing..?â
"only if you want to." she bit her lip, nervous now, that shy side of her creeping back in. "we don't have to. i just thoughtâ"
you cut her off before she could finish the sentence.
"i want to," you breathed, the words tumbling out before you could overthink them. "practice with me, minjeong."
her eyes darkened instantly, that shy nervousness melting into something hotter but still gentle. she stepped forward until your back hit the edge of the bed, her body pressing softly into yours.
"okay," she whispered, voice husky yet tender. "just practice."
but the moment her lips touched yours, it was anything but practice. the kiss was slow at first, tentative and sweet, her soft full lips moving gently against yours, tasting like the champagne from the reception. then you sighed into her mouth and she lost it just a little, her tongue sliding in shyly at first, then deeper, tasting you with quiet hunger, one hand tangling carefully in your hair while the other rested on your waist.
you moaned softly, hands fisting in her black suit jacket, pulling her closer. her wild curly hair tickled your cheeks as she tilted her head, kissing you harder, more desperately.
"ah," she gasped when you broke for air, her forehead resting against yours, a deep blush staining her cheeks. "you have no idea how long i've wanted to do that... is this okay?"
her hands started roaming, sliding down your sides, squeezing your ass through your dress with gentle firmness before slipping under the hem. her fingers traced up your thighs, teasing the edge of your panties.
"you're already so wet," she murmured against your neck, nipping at the skin softly. "all from a little kissing? so pretty... you're doing so well for me."
she pushed you back onto the bed gently, crawling over you. her curls cascaded down around you like a curtain as she kissed you again, deeper this time, her touch still careful but in control. one hand pushed your dress up around your hips while the other tugged your panties aside.
two fingers slid through your soaked folds, circling your clit slowly before dipping lower. she pushed them inside you in one smooth thrust, curling them perfectly against that spot that made your back arch off the bed.
"minjeongâ ah, fuck," you moaned, hips bucking up into her hand.
"shh, jagiya," she cooed softly, pumping her fingers faster, her thumb rubbing tight, gentle circles on your clit. "let me take care of you. been dreaming about how tight you'd feel around my fingers... itâs so good..."
she added a third finger, stretching you open deliciously, the wet, obscene sounds of her fingering your dripping cunt filling the hotel room. she was relentless but so soft, fucking you deep and steady, her mouth moving to your neck, sucking marks into your skin while her free hand pinned your wrist above your head with tender pressure.
"so tight for me," she groaned, voice low and filthy but laced with affection. "your pussy is sucking my fingers in so greedily, baby⊠does that feel good? tell me, jagi.â
you were a mess, whimpering and grinding down on her hand, chasing every thrust. the pleasure built fast and sharp, her thumb pressing harder on your clit as she curled her fingers just right, her eyes never leaving your face.
"cum for me," she whispered hotly in your ear, her voice shaking just a little with her own shyness. "wanna feel this pretty pussy clench around my fingers. come on, let go for me... you can do it."
the orgasm hit you hard, walls fluttering and squeezing her fingers as pleasure crashed through you in waves. you cried out her name, thighs shaking around her wrist, soaking her hand and the sheets. she didn't stop, fucking you through it with slow, deep thrusts, whispering praises the whole time until you were trembling and oversensitive, whimpering into her mouth.
"that's it... such a good girl for me," she murmured, kissing your forehead softly as she finally slowed down.
she pulled her fingers out slowly, bringing them to her lips and sucking them clean with a quiet moan, eyes locked on yours the whole time, her blush still burning bright.
"taste so fucking good," she groaned, licking every drop off. "i could eat you for hours... if you want me to."
but she wasn't done. the lines had blurred completely, and neither of you wanted to stop. you slipped out of the reception early, claiming tiredness. minjeong led you straight to the parking lot, her hand never leaving yours, her fingers laced with yours shyly.
"my car's waiting," she said, voice still husky from earlier, a soft smile on her lips.
you barely made it into the backseat of her sleek black mercedes with the deep tinted windows before she was on you again, pushing you down and crawling over you, straddling your lap with gentle confidence.
"need you again, please," she pleaded softly, unzipping your dress with impatient but careful hands, her own suit jacket and shirt shoved aside in a hurry.
the car smelled like her perfume, leather, and the faint trace of soju from the reception. she kissed you deep and messy, tongues tangling as her fingers returned between your legs, three this time, thrusting in with purpose, curling perfectly while her hips ground down against your thigh.
you tugged at her wild curls, arching up into her, moaning her name loudly now that you were alone.
"cum for me again," she demanded, voice hoarse and filthy but still so soft. "soak my fingers like the good girl you are for me, baby. let me feel how much you want this... you're doing so perfect, jagi."
you shattered hard around her fingers, soaking her hand and the leather seat, thighs trembling uncontrollably.
but you flipped her, laying her back against the seat, mouth latching onto her nipple while your fingers explored her soaked folds. she was dripping, moaning your name in that breathy, shy voice.
"please, deeper," she gasped, hips bucking wildly, her hands gentle in your hair. "fuck me harder, jagi, i need it... please be good to me too."
you slid three fingers inside her, curling against that spot, thumb circling her clit in rhythm. her thighs shook around you, one hand gripping your hair, the other scratching down your back lightly as she rode your hand desperately.
when she came, it was intense. body tensing then melting with a broken cry of your name, curls splayed wildly across the seat, necklaces tangled between you both.
afterward, you both lay tangled, breathing hard, her head on your chest in the quiet of her tinted mercedes, the seoul night wrapping around you.
"this wasn't fake," she murmured, tracing patterns on your skin, voice soft but certain even as her cheeks stayed pink. "hasn't been for a long time. stay with me, yeah? for real this time... if you want to."
you kissed the top of her wild curls, heart full, feeling the blur of lines finally settle into something real and yours.
dom! ningning x afab!reader. praise. vaginal fingering. overstimulation. mommy kink.
âshh, shh, baby..â ningning coos, voice soft and sweet as her fingers pound in and out of your cunt. âyouâre being so good for me..â
âm-mommy, please,â your voice is little beyond a few babbles and whimpers, each orgasm haven taken your ability to speak by this point. âwanna come again..â
ningning grins at you, dragging her thumb across your g-spot simply to make you squirm. âwell, i suppose..â
âhow can i deny such a sweet, pretty thing?â
increasing their intensity, her fingers continue to pound in and out of you at a pace that takes every breath from your lungs. a sharp squeak escapes from your lips as you gush into her fingers.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
đŠđšđ đ đđ„đŹ. the world worshipped aespaâfour figure skating prodigies whose beauty and talent made them untouchable. but when an unknown novice steals olympic gold from beneath their blades, admiration curdles into obsession, and the girls who once ruled the ice become determined to destroy the skater who dared take their crown.
đŁđđđ„đđĄđ. figure skaters!aespa x rival!fem reader.
đđąđĄđ§đđĄđ§ đȘđđ„đĄđđĄđđŠ. abuse of power, alcohol, bitting, body worship, clit play, corruption, cunnilingus, degration, dirty talk, dubcon, face fucking, face sitting, fingering, gropping, hair pulling, humiliation, nipple play, multiple orgasms, pet names, power dynamics (dom!yoo jimin, dom!uchinaga aeri, sub!kim minjeong, dom!ning yizhuo), praise, scissoring, sixty nine, strap usage, squirting, titsucking, voyeurism.
đȘđąđ„đ đđąđšđĄđ§. 16,7k.
đ§đđđđđŠđ§ (if you want to be part of it, leave a comment or send an ask requesting it). @azu21things @fellominaarcher @freakykkuras @hopeless-y @linnnsworld @marvelwoman-simp @miagamegirl @yuyuy90
the biting, crisp air of the milanese winter clings to your skin, but the heat radiating from your own chestâa mix of nerves and adrenalineâis enough to make you feel as though you might catch fire. you clutch the straps of your gear bag, your knuckles white, your fingers tracing the worn fabric as if searching for a thread of stability.
every step you take toward the milano ice skating arena feels surreal. for years, you have lived for the sound of steel shaving against ice, the rhythmic thrumâhiss, thrumâhiss of your skates carving paths into the frozen surface. you grew up in local rinks, your knees bruised, your hair perpetually pulled back into a tight bun, dreaming of the day the olympic rings would loom over your head. and now, you are here. you made it.
âdo you remember the skates, honey?â your mother asks, her voice thick with that particular brand of bittersweet pride that only parents of athletes seem to possess. sheâs walking a step behind you, her hand hovering near your shoulder, itching to offer comfort you arenât sure you need or can handle. âthe ones with the little white bows? you cried because you couldnât land a single lutz.â
your father chuckles, a deep, resonant sound. âand the trophy from the regional finals in â19. you slept with it under your pillow for a week. youâve worked so hard for this, kiddo. just breathe.â
you try to smile, but your jaw is tight. you offer them a quick, tightâlipped nod, wanting to keep your focus sharp. as the grand glass doors of the arena swing open, the temperature drops, and the smell of ozone and freshly zambonied ice hits you like an old, comforting friend. this is it.
at the entrance to the locker room hallway, you turn back. âi have to go,â you say, your voice barely a whisper. âiâll see you in the stands. please donât embarrass me.â
their faces are a blur of tearyâeyed encouragement as you turn away, walking into the corridor that leads to the heart of the competition.
the atmosphere inside the locker room is a chaotic symphony. hair spray fills the air, mingling with the metallic scent of skates and the sharp, floral notes of expensive perfume. competitors from around the world are scattered about, limbering up, applying glitter that catches the harsh fluorescent lighting, and whispering strategies.
as you navigate the narrow space, you feel like an intruder in a sanctuary youâve only ever observed from the outside. people look up, some smiling, some offering polite nods. you try to return the sentiment, offering a small, awkward wave to a skater who catches your eye, but your confidence falters as you round the corner into the main dressing area.
there, sitting in a velvetâlined semicircle, is the quartet everyone has been talking about.
yoo jiminâthe world knows her as karinaâis leaning back, her posture impossibly perfect. her face, often compared to that of a digital rendering or an expensive porcelain doll, is currently set in a mask of total concentration. youâve seen her perform on loop for years; youâve watched her command the ice with that terrifying, calculated technicality. her movements arenât just athletic; they are surgical. she shifts, her neck arching with a grace that seems almost robotic in its precision, her hair falling into place with a flick of her head that looks choreographed even while sheâs just sitting down.
beside her, uchinaga aeriâgiselleâis laughing at something on her phone. she exudes an effortless, âswagâheavyâ energy that makes her look like she belongs on a stage in tokyo or new york rather than waiting for an olympic skate. sheâs vibrant, her eyes bright with a sharp, guarded charisma.
on the far end, winterâkim minjeongâis tugging at her glove, her expression soft and seemingly innocent, a stark contrast to the intensity you know she brings to her jumps. and finally, thereâs ningning, who is currently applying a layer of bold lipstick, her gaze playful and fierce, the kind of person who seems to turn the ice into a personal playground.
you pause, your bag slipping slightly on your shoulder. youâve idolized them from afar, seen their names at the top of every leaderboard, and now you are standing in the same room, mere inches away. a part of you wants to introduce yourself, to bridge the gap between ârookieâ and âpeer.â
you offer a shy, underâtheâshoulder greeting, your hand rising halfway in a hesitant wave. âhi,â you murmur, your voice disappearing into the hum of the arena.
the transformation is instantaneous.
the laughter stops. ningningâs hand stops midâapplication of her lipstick. giselleâs head tilts, her eyes narrowing as she looks you up and down with an expression that is neither welcoming nor curiousâitâs dismissive.
karina doesn't even move her shoulders. she merely shifts her gaze, her eyes like cold, clear glass as they scan your gear, then your face, then the way you are standing. she leans in toward winter, whispering something that makes the younger girlâs lips curve into a thin, inscrutable line. they donât acknowledge your greeting. they donât invite you to sit. they simply exist in their own private orbit, a solar system of talent and cold, hard beauty that seems to have no room for a satellite like you.
the air in the room suddenly feels thinner. you feel smallânot just as a competitor, but as a person. the warmth of your parentsâ pride is replaced by the chill of a thousand needles pricking at your skin. you arenât just another skater; to them, you are a nuisance, an interloper, a footnote in a story theyâve already finished writing.
you pull your bag tighter, your knuckles white once more, and hurry toward your assigned locker, your heart hammering a frantic, uneven rhythm against your ribs. you realize then that the olympics aren't just about the ice. youâve walked into a den, and for the first time since you started skating, you aren't sure if youâre here to win, or just to survive the gaze of the queens of the ice.
the locker room hums with a tension so thick it feels like static electricity. you reach your locker, fumbling with the combination, your hands shaking just enough to make the dial slip twice. all you want is to fade into the background, to lace up your skates and let the cold air of the rink wash away the sting of their silence.
but the silence is hard to ignore.
âdid you see the latest entry list?â ningningâs voice cuts through the room like a bladeâsharp, high, and unapologetically loud. she isnât looking at you, yet the way her head is angled, you know the comment is meant for the air around you. âseems like sheâs letting just about anyone in these days. quality control must be on vacation in milan.â
giselle lets out a sharp, cynical laugh. âlet her have her moment, ning. itâs cute, isn't it? the âeffortâ it takes to just show up. i remember when i was nervous about my first major event. it was adorable.â
you freeze, your hand still resting on your locker handle. the humiliation is a physical heat rising up your neck. youâve worked for this. youâve sacrificed friendships, late nights, early mornings, and the physical well-being of your own body for this moment. to be reduced to âcuteâ or âanyoneâ isn't just rudeâitâs an erasure of everything youâve built."
karina finally turns her head. her movement is so smooth, so controlled, that it feels uncanny. she looks at you, not with malice, but with a terrifying, blank indifference that feels worse. her eyes, beautiful and crystalline, sweep over your competitionâgrade skates, the ones you scrimped and saved for, as if sheâs assessing their value and finding them wanting.
âare you going to stand there all day?â karina asks, her voice cool and low. âor are you going to lace up? the ice isn't going to wait for your jitters to subside.â
winter, who had been the quietest, glances up. her eyes aren't as cold as karinaâs, but they are just as detached. âdonât trip on your laces,â she adds, her tone lacking any real warmth. âthe judges here donât like it when you mess up the surface early. itâs bad form.â
you donât respond. you canât. if you speak, your voice will tremble, and that would be the final victory for them. you shove your bag into the locker and grab your skates. as you move, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the oversized mirror on the wall. you look pale, caught in the reflection behind the radiant, perfectly madeâup quartet. you look like what you are: a newcomer who is vastly out of her depth.
you retreat to a corner of the room, as far away from the group as the space allows. you sit on the narrow metal bench and begin to lace your skates. you pull the laces tightâtighter than you ever have before. the pain in your fingers as they pinch the material is grounding.
focus, you tell yourself. the ice doesn't know who they are. the ice only knows your blades.
you close your eyes for a second, trying to recapture the feeling of your first competition, the pure, unadulterated joy of movement before you knew what it was like to be judged by the silhouettes of icons.
across the room, the quartet is standing up. they move in unison, a pack of predatory grace. as they walk toward the exit, headed for the practice rink, they pass by you. you donât look up, but you can feel them. you can smell the scent of their hairsprayâa mix of expensive jasmine and something sharp, like ozone.
giselleâs shoulder brushes against yoursâa deliberate, calculated touch. she doesnât apologize. she doesnât even break stride. she just keeps walking, her laughter echoing off the concrete walls as they disappear into the tunnel.
you are left in the nearâempty room, the silence returning, heavier than before. you stand up, your ankles wobbling slightly before finding their center. you take a breath, feeling the cold air fill your lungs.
youâve dreamed of this moment for a lifetime. they might treat you like a ghost, an unwanted shadow on their stage, but you arenât going to disappear. not yet. you walk toward the tunnel, the blades of your skates clicking against the rubber floor. each step is a declaration. the arena lights grow brighter as you approach the exit, a blinding, welcoming white. you don't know if youâll ever earn their respect, or if you even want it anymore. all you know is that when you step out onto that ice, you are going to show them exactly why you belong in the same arena.
as you step into the light, the hum of the crowdâdistant, massive, and waitingâbegins to fill your ears. you let go of the straps of your bag, your hands now resting firmly at your sides, and step onto the ice. itâs smooth, pristine, and perfectly empty.
for the first time today, the world isn't about the girls who sit in the velvet chairs. itâs about you, the blades, and the infinite, frozen possibility beneath your feet. you push off, and for a glorious, fleeting second, the noise of the worldâthe whispers, the glares, the expectationsâvanishes into the rush of wind against your face.
you are here. and you are going to skate.
the arena settles into a hush the moment your name is announced. it isnât the loud, excited kind of silence reserved for favorites. itâs the quieter oneâthe kind given to someone unknown. a newcomer. a question mark.
you skate to the center of the rink anyway. the ice gleams beneath the olympic lights, reflecting tiny fragments of silver across your costume. from the corner of your eye, you can see the judges settling into their seats. beyond them, thousands of spectators blur together into a sea of faces.
your heart pounds. once. twice. three times.
then the music begins. a single piano note echoes through the arena. everything else disappears: the locker room. the whispers. the laughter. the dismissive looks. gone. because this has never been about proving yourself to them, itâs about remembering why you fell in love with skating in the first place.
the melody is soft at first, fragile enough to break. it was your motherâs favorite song when you were younger. she used to play it on rainy mornings while making breakfast, humming along as you stumbled around the kitchen in oversized socks.
every time you heard it, you thought of home, of sacrifice, of dreams that seemed impossible. you push forward. your blade cuts cleanly across the ice. the first jump arrives sooner than expected. triple lutz. your body launches upward. for a split second, the world holds its breath. thenâlanding. clean. perfect.
the audience gasps, not because the jump is impossible, but because it is effortless. you donât celebrate, you donât even smile, you simply continue, because this program isnât about technical difficulty itâs a story and youâre telling it with every movement.
your arms extend toward the rafters as the music swells. your fingers tremble with emotion. every edge is deep and deliberate. every spin flows naturally into the next movement like water finding its path downstream.
the judges lean forward: one of them begins scribbling notes, another raises her eyebrows. they werenât expecting this. you werenât supposed to be memorable. yet somehow they canât look away.
halfway through the program, the music shifts. the piano gives way to strings. warmer. bigger. hopeful.
you skate faster, your confidence grows with every second. triple flip, clean, double axel, clean. combination sequence. clean.
the crowd begins reacting before elements are even finished. thereâs a different energy in the arena now: people are paying attention. really paying attention. because what makes the performance special isnât perfection, itâs sincerity. every movement feels genuine. you arenât performing at them, you are sharing something with them, and they can feel it.
by the time the final section arrives, your chest is burning and your legs ache, but none of it matters. the music reaches its climax and you think of every freezing morning practice, every injury, every competition where nobody remembered your name, every moment you almost gave up. and then you fly, your final jump rises higher than any before it, the landing sends a crisp spray of ice into the air. clean. absolutely clean.
the audience erupts, but you barely hear it. the final notes begin, slow and gentle. you glide across the rink one last time before sinking into your ending pose.
silence, for a heartbeat, two, three, then the arena explodes. cheers crash over you like a wave. people are standing, clapping, shouting. you blink rapidly, trying not to cry, because for the first time all day, nobody is looking at you like you donât belong. theyâre looking at you like an olympian.
up in the stands, your mother has both hands pressed over her mouth. your father is on his feet. and at the judgesâ table, several officials exchange impressed looks before nodding to one another.
you slowly rise from your final pose, breathing hard. only then do your eyes drift toward the entrance tunnel, toward the place where the next competitors are waiting: four familiar figures stand there: karina. giselle. winter. ningning. and for the first time since you arrived in milan, none of them are laughing. none of them are whispering. theyâre simply staring, because the unknown rookie they dismissed in the locker room has just given the performance of her life.
and suddenly, you arenât the question mark anymore, you are the score everyone else has to beat.
the applause for your performance lingers long after youâve stepped off the ice. you sit in the kiss and cry area, wrapped in your team jacket, hands clasped tightly together as your score is finalized. your pulse still hasn't settled. every few seconds, another replay appears on the giant screen overheadâthe clean landings, the emotional step sequence, the final spin that had brought the crowd to its feet.
you try not to look at it. if you do, youâll cry. instead, your attention drifts toward the entrance tunnel. because everyone knows who comes next: karina. the reigning queen. the favorite. the skater whose name alone can fill arenas.
the lights dim. a murmur spreads through the audience, and then she appears. even from across the rink, she looks unreal. composed. untouchable.
while your performance had felt like a beating heart laid bare for the world to see, karina looks like a masterpiece carved from marble. every movement is measured. every breath controlled. every step deliberate. she glides toward center ice with her chin slightly raised, her posture flawless. there are no visible nerves, no uncertainty, just absolute confidence. the crowd erupts. some fans are already standing before the music even begins. but karina doesnât acknowledge them, she simply takes her starting position, and waits.
the opening notes arrive. a sweeping orchestral melody fills the arena, instantly, the atmosphere changes. where your music had felt intimate and vulnerable, hers feels grand, regal. like the soundtrack to a kingdom.
she pushes forward. the first stroke alone draws gasps, but it shouldnât, itâs only skating, yet somehow she makes it look different: her edges are impossibly clean. her body lines stretch forever. every extension of her arms looks intentional, elegant enough to belong in a painting.
she reaches her first jump, a triple lutz. perfect. the landing is so quiet it barely makes a sound. then comes another. and another. each executed with frightening precision.
the judges watch carefully. one of them stops writing altogether. simply observing.
karina moves through the program like sheâs following a blueprint only she can see: nothing is wasted. nothing is rushed. there are no frantic moments..no desperate attempts to connect with the audience. everything is under control, completely, utterly. and somehow thatâs what makes it captivating.
you find yourself staring despite everything⊠despite the locker room. despite the cruel comments. because denying her talent would be impossible. she is extraordinary.
the midpoint of the program arrives. a dramatic crescendo swells through the arena. karina launches into her combination, the most difficult pass of her routine.
the crowd collectively holds its breath while watching her: rotation. rotation. rotation. landing. clean. and then the arena explodes. yet karina doesnât react. not even a smile. she simply continues, like she expected nothing less. the confidence is almost intimidating.
near the judgesâ table, several officials exchange impressed glances. their expressions remain professional, but even they canât hide their admiration: every spin reaches impossible positions. every transition flows seamlessly into the next. every movement seems sharpened to perfection â there is no vulnerability in her performance. no cracks. no hesitation. she isnât telling the audience who she is, she is showing them exactly why sheâs on top.
the final section begins. the music grows larger, more dramatic. and karina matches it effortlessly: she skates with the elegance of someone who has spent years mastering every inch of the ice beneath her blades. you suddenly understand why so many competitors crumble when they face her. itâs not just the technical score. itâs the certainty. the feeling that she belongs here more than anyone else.
the final note arrives. karina sinks into her ending pose. still, graceful, perfect. for one heartbeat, the arena is silent. then thousands of people rise to their feet. the ovation is immediate. thunderous. deserved.
karina stands and offers a small bow, nothing more, but as she turns toward the exit, her eyes briefly find yours across the rink. the moment lasts less than a second, just long enough for you to notice something different, because the dismissive indifference from the locker room is gone. she isnât looking at you like an inconvenience anymore. sheâs looking at you the way champions look at other champions: as competition. and somehow, that feels far more dangerous.
if karina skated like a queen, then giselle skates like a star. the difference becomes obvious the moment she steps onto the ice.
the crowd reacts instantly, not with the respectful awe that followed karina, but with excitement. anticipation. because nobody ever knows exactly what giselle is going to do. and thatâs part of what makes her dangerous.
she pushes away from the boards with effortless confidence, rolling her shoulders once as though sheâs stepping onto a concert stage instead of the olympic rink. even standing still, she commands attention.
the spotlight seems to follow her naturally. the opening beat of her music drops: a modern arrangement layered with sharp strings and heavy percussion. it shouldnât work for figure skating, yet somehow it does, because giselle makes it work.
she moves immediately, fast, powerful, confident. there isnât a single ounce of hesitation in her body. while your performance had drawn people in with emotion, and karinaâs with elegance, giselle grabs the audience by the wrist and refuses to let go.
every movement feels intentional. every glance. every turn of her head. every extension of her arm. she isnât simply skating, sheâs performing.
her first jump comes out of nowhere, one moment sheâs dancing across the ice. the next sheâs airborne. the landing is solid, confident.
the crowd cheers when they feel the emotion that her performance transmits to the audience. giselle flashes the smallest smile,.not enough to break character, just enough to let everyone know she heard them. and suddenly theyâre even more invested, because giselle has a way of making people feel involved, as though theyâre part of the performance itself.
the music grows louder. she accelerates, her footwork sequence begins, and the arena comes alive. the speed is ridiculous⊠her blades attack the ice with absolute certainty. every edge change is sharp. every turn precise. yet none of it feels mechanical. it feels natural, like sheâs having fun, like sheâs enjoying every second of being out there.
you notice audience members leaning forward in their seats: judges watching more carefully. even volunteers stationed near the boards seem unable to look away. giselle has that kind of presence, the ability to pull attention toward herself without ever asking for it.
halfway through the routine, she reaches her most difficult combination. the entire arena seems to tense. you know this element. everyone does. sheâs missed it before, rarely, but enough times for people to worry.
giselle takes off. rotation. rotation. rotation. landing. clean. and the reaction is immediate: a wave of applause crashes through the building. for the first time all program, a grin flashes across her face. brief, bright, victorious. the kind of smile that says, âyeah, i know.â and somehow, the confidence doesnât come across as arrogance, because sheâs backing it up. every second of it.
the final section arrives. the music transforms into something explosive. bigger. bolder. and giselle thrives in it, her energy somehow increases despite the demands of the program. the audience is completely under her spell now.
she skates as though she owns the rink, as though every inch of ice belongs to her, the final spin blurs beneath the lights. faster. faster. faster. until the music cuts. giselle stops perfectly on the final note: her chest rises and falls. her hair slightly out of place. her eyes shining.
for a second, nobody moves, then the arena erupts. people are screaming, cheering, standing. the noise is overwhelming. giselle laughs softly and places a hand over her heart before bowing. for the first time today, she looks genuinely happy. not guarded, not cool, just happy.
as she skates toward the exit tunnel, she passes close enough for you to see the faint flush on her cheeks. the adrenaline. the satisfaction. the pride. and when her gaze lands on you, thereâs something there that hadnât existed in the locker room. respect. it lasts only a moment before she looks away, but you catch it. because after your performance, and after hers, one thing has become painfully clear. none of you are skating just for medals anymore. youâre skating to prove who deserves to stand at the very top. and the competition is only getting started.
winterâs name appears on the screen. the reaction from the crowd is immediate, though different from the thunderous excitement that followed giselle. the noise softens. warms. like a collective smile spreading through the arena.
you watch from your seat as she emerges from the tunnel. and for a moment, she doesnât look like one of the most feared skaters in the world: she looks almost delicate, small beneath the olympic lights. her pale costume catches the glow of the arena, shimmering like freshly fallen snow. the soft colors suit her perfectly. there is nothing loud about her appearance. nothing demanding attention, yet somehow everyoneâs eyes find her anyway â winter reaches center ice. she folds her hands behind her back and smiles. it isnât a performance smile. it isnât calculated. itâs gentle, genuine, the kind that makes people instinctively smile back.
then the music begins: a piano. soft, simple, beautiful. winter closes her eyes for the briefest moment. and when she starts moving, it feels less like skating and more like floating. the entire arena seems to exhale, thereâs a purity to the way she performs: no dramatic gestures. no overwhelming intensity. every movement feels effortless, natural, like she belongs on the ice the same way birds belong in the sky. her edges are deep and smooth, drawing elegant curves across the rink. nothing appears forced. nothing appears difficult. even though you know exactly how difficult it is.
the first jump arrives, winter launches into the air, and lands so softly it almost looks unreal. the audience sighs. actually sighs. because somehow she makes one of the hardest sports in the world look easy, beautiful, weightless.
she continues, gliding through the choreography with a quiet confidence that never asks for attention: while karina commanded the ice, while giselle captivated it, winter seems to become part of it: her performance feels like a snowfall, gentle at first, then impossible to ignore. the longer it continues, the more enchanted the audience becomes. children in the front rows stare with wide eyes. older spectators watch with fond smiles. even the judges appear softer, more relaxed, as though theyâve been invited into a dream.
the music swells..winter spins, her skirt fans outward beneath the lights. for a moment, she looks less like an athlete and more like something from a fairy tale, and yet beneath all that softness lies incredible skill. every landing is secure. every turn precise. every movement polished through years of relentless training.
you remember the comment she made in the locker room: the detached look in her eyes,.the coldness, but watching her now, itâs hard to reconcile that image with the girl on the ice, because here, she looks almost impossibly kind, almost impossibly pure.
the final minute arrives. the piano returns, quiet, fragile. winterâs movements grow smaller, more intimate. she skates as though she's sharing a secret with every person in the building, and nobody wants it to end.
when the final note plays, she slowly lowers herself into her ending position: her fingertips brushing the ice, head bowed, still. the silence afterward feels sacred. nobody moves. nobody breathes. then applause fills the arena, a warm, endless, and heartfelt one.
winter rises, visibly surprised by the volume of it. her smile widens, small and shy. and the crowd only cheers louder. because somehow, despite standing among giants, winter has managed to make the entire olympic arena feel gentle.
and as she skates toward the exit tunnel, you realize something: karina inspires awe. giselle captures attention. but winter makes people care. and thats a power all its own.
and then there is ningning. the moment her name flashes across the giant screen, the energy inside the arena changes. again. because ningning doesnâf command attention like karina. she doesnât captivate them like giselle. she doesnât enchant people like winter. ningning makes people excited, she makes them curious, because nobody performs quite like she does.
the crowd erupts before she even reaches center ice. and unlike the others, ningning acknowledges it immediately: a tiny grin appears on her face, mischievous, playful. as if she already knows something everyone else doesn't.
you watch her glide onto the ice: thereâs a lightness in the way she moves. a confidence that feels almost effortless. while the other skaters carry themselves with the weight of olympic expectations, ningning somehow looks like sheâs having fun. actual fun.
the music begins. bright. dramatic. full of personality. and the second the first note hits, she comes alive. her smile widens. her eyes sparkle beneath the arena lights. she skates with an energy that immediately infects the audience.
people start smiling without realizing it, and you catch judges doing the same, because ningning doesnât just perform her choreography, she plays with it. every movement has character. every glance has meaning. every gesture feels spontaneous, even though you know every second has been practiced thousands of times.
her first jump is huge, the landing secure, but what stands out isnât the technique, itâs what happens after. she throws herself straight into the next movement with a grin so bright it sends a ripple of laughter through the crowd. not because sheâs being funny, because sheâs enjoying herself, and everyone can feel it.
ningning skates like someone who genuinely loves being on the ice. thereâs no distance between her and the audience. no wall. she reaches out to them constantly, inviting them into her performance, and they follow willingly.
the music picks up speed. so does she. her footwork sequence becomes a blur of sharp turns and playful musical accents. every beat is matched perfectly. every note answered. itâs as though she's dancing with the music itself.
the crowd reacts louder and louder, completely drawn in. you find yourself smiling too⊠despite everything. despite the competition. despite the pressure. because watching ningning is impossible not to enjoy. she radiates joy. and joy is contagious.
halfway through the routine, she lands a difficult combination. clean. powerful. and the audience explodes.
ningningâs eyes widen dramatically as though sheâs surprised by the reaction, but itâs clearly part of the performance. the crowd laughs, and somehow loves her even more. sheâs teasing them, playing with them, making thousands of people feel involved in every second.
the final section arrives: the music grows bigger, bolder. and ningning rises with it. her confidence shines. her charisma fills every corner of the arena. yet she never loses that playful spark. that feeling that sheâs sharing something fun rather than proving something.
the final spin accelerates beneath the lights. faster. faster. faster. until her costume becomes a blur of color. then the music crashes into its ending: ningning hits her final pose, and immediately flashes the audience a breathless grin. the arena erupts, people are laughing, cheering, standing. completely won over.because while other skaters make the audience admire themâningning makes them fall in love with the performance itself.
she bows deeply, still smiling, and skates toward the exit tunnel. for a moment, she catches sight of you watching. her grin softens, just slightly. and for the first time all day, thereâs no mockery in her eyes. only excitement. because after four incredible performances, one thing has become obvious.
the olympics arenât witnessing a single star. they're witnessing five. and nobody knows who will shine brightest when the scores finally appear.
the arena falls silent. for the first time all evening, nobody is talking. nobody is moving. everyone is staring at the massive screen hanging above the rink.
the final results are being calculated. one by one, names appear: karina. giselle. winter. ningning. all of them have delivered extraordinary performances. olympic-worthy performances. the kind people remember for years.
your stomach twists. youâve stopped trying to guess. stopped trying to hope. youâve already given everything you had. whatever happens now is out of your hands.
the screen flickers.the announcer receives the final sheet. the crowd collectively holds its breath.
âand the olympic gold medalist isâŠâ
a pause. an eternity. thenâyour name.
the arena explodes. for a second, nothing makes sense. the words donât register. they float around you like snowflakes, distant, unreal.
your name remains at the very top of the leaderboard. gold. first place. olympic champion.
you blink once. twice. then your hands fly to your mouth. âoh my godâŠâ your voice breaks. tears immediately blur your vision. somewhere in the audience, your mother is crying openly, your father is hugging complete strangers.
the crowd is on its feet: cheering. applauding. celebrating. but you can barely hear any of it,
because after years of dreaming, after every sacrifice, after every moment you doubted yourselfâyou did it. you actually did it. the medal ceremony feels like a dream. the lights are brighter. the sounds louder. everything softer around the edges.
you step onto the highest podium, gold resting against your chest, heavy, real, yours. when the anthem begins, you finally break, tears slide freely down your cheeks, and you donât bother hiding them, thereâs no point, not anymore.
when the ceremony ends, you glance toward the other podiums, toward the girls: karina applauds with the same composed elegance she carries everywhere. giselle is clapping. winter is smiling politely. ningning whistles loudly enough to make nearby reporters laugh. they are gracious, professional, respectful, exactly what champions should be. and yetâ you can see it. the tiny signs.. the disappointment hidden behind practiced smiles. the frustration. the disbelief. because they didnât come here expecting to lose, especially not to the rookie they barely noticed this morning.
giselle shakes her head with a small laugh, looking toward the scoreboard as though sheâs still processing it. winter smiles, but there's a wistfulness in her eyes. ningning folds her arms for a moment before forcing herself to start clapping again, unable to hide how badly she wanted that gold.
and karina⊠karina simply stares at the rankings. silent. thoughtful. her silver medal gleams beneath the lights. finally, she looks up, and her gaze finds yours. for a long moment, neither of you says anything. then she nods, once, small, genuine. a champion acknowledging another champion. the gesture means more than any speech could. because beneath the disappointment, beneath the rivalry, beneath the countless hours spent chasing the same dreamâthey know. all of them know, you earned this. not through luck. not through sympathy. not through circumstance. you earned it with every early morning, every fall, every sacrifice, every impossible leap of faith. today, the olympic gold medal belongs to you, and no one can take that away.
the olympics are over, at least, officially: the cameras have stopped following every step. the interviews are finished. the medals have been awarded. and yet somehow, sitting across from the four girls at the private hotel tucked away in the heart of milan feels far more intimidating than stepping onto olympic ice.
you stare down at your glass of water. the silence stretching across the table is unbearable. it wasnât supposed to be like this.
when ningning had approached you after the medal ceremony with an invitation to dinner, you'd assumed it was some kind of joke. then karina had joined. then giselle. then winter. and somehow, several hours later, youâre here, sitting with the very people who spent the morning acting like you didnât belong.
the dining room of the luxury hotel where they are staying is warm and elegant, golden lights reflecting off crystal glasses and polished silverware. outside, snow drifts lazily past the windows.
inside, the tension is thick enough to cut.
âso.â ningning breaks first. of course she does. she leans back in her chair and points at you dramatically. âiâm just gonna say it.â
you nearly choke on your water, without even waiting for her to break the ice with a question that hints at something personal. âwhat?â
âwhere the hell did that come from?*
giselle immediately starts laughing. winter covers her mouth. even karinaâs lips twitch slightly.
you blink, surprised that they seemed genuinely, or so they appeared, interested in you and your personal life. âmy skating?â
âyes, your skating,â ningning says. âyou show up looking terrified, barely say two words all day, then suddenly decide to become the main character of the olympics.â
you look down at the table,.heat creeping into your cheeks. âi just skated.â
âthatâs the annoying part.â
you look up: giselle is staring at you. not angrily. not even rudely. just honestly. âyou make it sound so simple.â
the table falls quiet again, because everyone understands what sheâs really saying. nothing about today was simple.
all five of you spent years fighting for moments measured in minutes. you sacrificed childhoods, friendships, holidays, sleep,.pieces of yourselves, and only one person got to stand at the top.
winter gently traces the rim of her glass. âi hated your score.â you nearly drop your fork, and winter immediately laughs. ânot because it wasnât deserved!â
âwinter.â
âiâm being honest.â
she looks at you. her smile sheepish. âwhen they announced first place, i wanted to be happy for you and throw myself into the nearest wall at the same time.â
giselle bursts out laughing. ningning slams a hand onto the table. âfinally! someone said it.â
âningning!â
âwhat? we all felt it.â
you stare at them, speechless, because somehow this conversation feels more genuine than anything that's happened all day.
karina remains quiet. watching. listening. and.the others eventually notice too.
ningning points. âsee? she's still mad.â
karina raises an eyebrow, without even bothering to react because she wasnât willing to waste her energy on you. âiâm not mad.â
âliar.â
âiâm disappointed.â thereâs a difference. the words land heavily. not cruelly. just truthfully.
karina folds her hands together. âi wanted that gold medal.â
silence. the kind that settles deep. because nobody at the table can pretend otherwise. they all wanted it. badly.
âbut,â karina continues, her eyes meeting yours, âif i was going to lose to someone, i suppose losing to the person who skated like that is easier to accept.â
your breath catches..coming from her, that almost feels like an award itself. almost.
ningning immediately groans. âugh. look at her being mature.â
âsomeone has to.â
âcouldnât be me.â
winter laughs into her drink. giselle shakes her head. for the first time all evening, the atmosphere begins to loosen. slightly. just enough. yet something strange remains beneath it all, a feeling you canât quite name. because they are smiling. they are talking. they invited you here. and still⊠every time your gold medal catches the light where it hangs beside your chair, you notice their eyes drift toward it. just for a second, before looking away again. not resentment. not hatred. something far more complicated. the awareness that all five of you stood on the same ice.
all five of you performed brilliantly. and somehow, impossibly, only one of you left with gold.
the conversation continues late into the night: jokes, stories, arguments about skating, occasional teasing directed at you. yet underneath every smile lies an unspoken promise. the olympics may be over, but the rivalry isnât. if anythingâitâs only just begun.
the atmosphere in the private hotel suite was thick with a tension that had nothing to do with the gourmet food on the table. the dim, warm lighting of the room made everything feel intimate and heavy. karina sat reclined in her chair, looking effortlessly cool in a silk camisole, sipping on a glass of red wine while her dark eyes constantly drifted toward you.
giselle was laughing at something ningning said, her eyes sparkling with mischief, while winter sat slightly more reserved, though the way she kept stealing glances at the group suggested she was just as hungry for the night ahead. the conversation was light, but the subtext was loud; every accidental brush of a hand or lingering gaze felt like a prelude to the chaos planned for later.
karina leaned forward, setting her wine glass down with a soft âclink.â she reached under the table, her hand finding your thigh and squeezing firmly, her thumb tracing small, suggestive circles against your skin.
âso.â karina said, her voice smooth and commanding, drawing everyoneâs attention. she flashed that wicked, signature smirk. âweâve all had a good meal. the energy is high. and weâre all in the same roomâŠâ she tilted her head, her eyes locking onto yours with a predatory heat before she scanned the rest of the girls. âwhoâs ready to stop talking and start playing? because i donât think any of us can wait much longer.â
the silence that followed your simple, heavy nod was electric. it was the green light they were all waiting for. the tension that had been simmering throughout dinner finally boiled over.
ningning was the first to move, letting out a low, playful giggle as she stood up, her eyes fixed on you. âfinally.â she whispered, her voice lacing with anticipation. giselle followed suit, her gaze intense as she reached across the table to squeeze your hand, her touch warm and lingering.
karina didnât even wait for the others to finish. she stood up, her movements fluid and predatory, and walked around the table until she was standing right behind you. she leaned down, her lips brushing against the shell of your ear, her hands sliding firmly onto your shoulders. âthatâs my girl.â karina purred, her voice vibrating against your skin. she looked up at the other four, her expression one of pure, unadulterated dominance. âyou heard her. letâs get this party started. i want all of you, and i want (y/n) right at the center of it.â
winter, who had been playing it cool, finally let a hungry smile break her composure as she rose from her seat, the air in the room feeling thick enough to touch. the dinner was forgotten; the only thing that mattered now was the heat radiating between the five of you as you all began to gravitate toward the massive, plush bed in the center of the suite.
the air in the room was thick with anticipation as the five of you moved toward the king sized bed. karinaâs hands didnât leave your shoulders, her grip firm and possessive, guiding you toward the center of the plush mattress. as you sat down, the other girls crowded around, their eyes filled with a shared, hungry intent.
ningning was the first to sink onto the bed beside you, her fingers tracing the hem of your top, while giselle moved to your other side, her gaze intense and unblinking. winter knelt at the foot of the bed, her hands already reaching for your ankles, and karina loomed over all of you, the undisputed leader of this beautiful, chaotic storm.
âdonât be shy now.â karina whispered, her eyes flashing with a predatory heat as she leaned down to capture your lips in a deep, demanding kiss, signaling to the others that the time for waiting was officially over.
the suite was filled with the sound of heavy breathing and the soft, wet sounds of skin meeting skin. karina was completely lost in you, her tongue dancing with yours in a deep, messy kiss that tasted of red wine and pure desire. her hands wandered from your waist to your hair, pulling you closer as if she wanted to merge your bodies together right there â on the other side of the bed, the passion was just as intense. giselle and ningning were tangled together in a heated embrace, their bodies pressing against each other as they traded hungry kisses, their hands roaming freely over each other's curves. the sheer heat of their movements sent waves of electricity through the air.
in the midst of this beautiful, carnal chaos, winter sat slightly apart at the edge of the mattress. she looked small and delicate compared to the others, her eyes wide and shimmering with a mix of awe and overwhelming shyness. she watched the way karinaâs lips moved against yours, the way giselleâs hands gripped ningning, and the way all the light caught the curves of your bodies. she bit her lip, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps as she took in the sight of her friends being so uninhibited.
karina, even while lost in your kiss, was acutely aware of everything happening in the room. she pulled back from you just an inch, a thin string of saliva connecting your lips, her eyes dark and hooded. she glanced over at winter, seeing the shy girl watching them like a deer in headlights. with a predatory smirk, karina reached out one hand, her fingers grazing your cheek while her other hand beckoned winter closer. âdonât just sit there and watch, winter,â karina teased, her voice a low, gravelly command that left no room for argument. she looked back at you, her eyes smoldering. âcome here, baby. thereâs more than enough of us to go around, and (y/n) wants to see you too.â
karinaâs gaze flickered from winter back to you, her eyes practically glowing with a wicked sort of triumph. she didnât wait for winter to find her courage; instead, she reached out and grabbed the hem of winterâs shirt, gently but firmly tugging her toward the center of the bed where you were waiting. âcome on, sweetie.â karina whispered, her voice a velvety lure. (y/n) is waiting for you. donât make her wait too long.â
as winter crawled closer, her face still burning with a shy heat, ningning and giselle broke their own embrace to watch, their eyes gleaming with excitement at the sight of the shy girl finally joining the fray. the circle was closing, the heat was rising, and the night was only just beginning to unfold in a beautiful, tangled mess of limbs and longing.
â... can i eat her out? please?â the room seemed to go silent for a split second as winterâs shy, quiet voice cut through the heavy air. it was so unexpected, so blunt coming from the girl who had been watching from the sidelines with wide, blushing eyes. the sheer honesty of her desire sent a jolt of electricity through everyone present.
karina let out a loud, wicked laugh, her eyes lighting up with pure delight. she loved this the sudden shift from innocence to raw hunger. she leaned back on her elbows, her gaze sweeping over winterâs flushed face with intense approval. âgod, jeongie... youâve been hiding a hungry little mouth under all that shyness, havenât you?â karina purred, her voice dripping with praise. she looked at you, her eyes flashing with a challenge and a promise. âhear that, (y/n)? our little minjeongie wants a taste of you.â
giselle and ningning, still tangled together, both let out low whistles of approval. ningning leaned forward, her eyes dancing with mischief. âgo on then, winter! donât let us keep you waiting. we know you want to!â
karina reached out, her hand sliding behind winterâs head, her fingers tangling in the girlâs hair to guide her. she didnât pull her, but the gesture was commanding, directing the shy girlâs attention exactly where it needed to be. âspread your legs for her, baby.â karina whispered to you, her voice a sultry command as she watched with predatory anticipation. she wanted to see the moment winter finally lost her shyness and surrendered to the heat.
winter, emboldened by the encouragement and the heavy, sexual tension in the room, crawled forward on her hands and knees. her face was still bright red, but her eyes were fixed on you with a newfound, singular focus. she moved between your thighs, her breath warm against your skin as she hovered there, waiting for your signal to finally dive in.
karina leaned closer to you, her lips brushing your temple as she watched winterâs every move. âshow her what sheâs working with, (y/n)... let her eat until sheâs satisfied.â
winter didnât hesitate any longer. driven by a sudden burst of courage, she leaned in, her lips finally making contact with your soft, sensitive skin. a small, shaky gasp escaped her as she began to work her tongue with a surprising, desperate intensity, her shyness melting away into pure, focused devotion. she was thorough, her movements rhythmic and eager, as if she were trying to make up for every moment she had spent just watching.
karina let out a low, appreciative moan at the sight, her hand sliding down from your temple to rest firmly on your hip, her fingers digging into your skin as she watched winter worship you. the sight of the shyest girl in the group being so uninhibited was driving karina wild.
âlook at her goâŠâ karina whispered, her voice thick with lust. she leaned down, her lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck, biting softly as she felt you tremble under winterâs touch. âsheâs a natural, (y/n). and sheâs just getting started.â
on your other side, giselle and ningning had moved closer, their eyes glued to the scene. ningning reached out, her fingers grazing your stomach, her gaze dark and heavy with desire. the air in the room was thick, heavy with the scent of arousal and the overwhelming heat of five women completely lost in the moment. the boundaries between you were blurring, and as winter continued her task, you could feel the hunger of the others rising to meet yours.
your silence was the loudest thing in the room. you didnât need to say a word; the way your back arched off the mattress, the way your fingers tangled into winterâs hair to pull her even closer, and the soft, broken whimpers escaping your throat told them everything they needed to know. you were lost in it, and you wanted more.
karina saw the way your eyes fluttered shut, saw the sheer pleasure written across your face as winterâs tongue worked magic on you. a dark, possessive hunger flared in karinaâs chest. she wasnât about to let you have all the fun alone.
âyou like that, donât you?â karina growled against your skin, her voice vibrating through your entire body. she moved from your neck to your lips, reclaiming them in a kiss that was far more aggressive than before, tasting the heat of your arousal on your tongue. she was marking you, letting you know that while winter was worshiping you, karina was the one in control.
seeing you so undone was the final straw for the others. giselle and ningning, seeing your reaction, moved in like predators. giselle slid up beside your head, her hands roaming over your breasts, her thumbs teasing your nipples through your top, while ningning moved to your side, her lips finding the sensitive curve of your waist, her hands sliding down to join winter in exploring your thighs.
the bed was a sea of tangled limbs, soft skin, and heavy, desperate breathing. you were the center of a beautiful, overwhelming storm of sensation. every inch of your body was being touched, kissed, and tasted. the shy winter had transformed into a force of nature, her movements becoming more confident and rhythmic, driven by the sounds of your pleasure.
karina pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, her gaze smoldering and predatory. she reached down, her hand sliding between your thigh and winterâs face, her fingers brushing against the wetness they were both creating.
âlook at us, (y/n).â karina commanded, her voice a low, sultry rasp. she wanted you to see the hunger in all of their eyes, to see the way they were all completely consumed by you. âlook at how much we want you. weâre not stopping until youâre completely spent.â
as if to prove her point, giselle leaned down to kiss your neck, her tongue tracing the same path karina had just taken, while ningningâs hands moved higher, her touch light and teasing, driving you toward the edge. the sensation was too much a beautiful, chaotic overload of pleasure that left you breathless, your messy hair spread wildly across the pillows like a halo of beauty in the dim light.
the sheer intensity of it was overwhelming. every nerve ending in your body felt like it was on fire, electrified by the synchronized attention of the four women surrounding you. karinaâs dominant kisses, winterâs fervent, rhythmic worship, and the teasing, expert hands of giselle and ningning created a symphony of pleasure that pushed you closer and closer to the brink.
as the tension reached a fever pitch, karina pulled back from your lips, her breathing as ragged as yours. she looked down at your flushed face, her eyes dark with a triumphant, possessive heat. âthatâs it, baby... give in to us,â she whispered, her voice a command that echoed the primal need in the room.
with a final, coordinated surge of passion, the room dissolved into a blur of sensation. you felt yourself arching, your voice catching in a silent scream of ecstasy as the pleasure finally crested, a wave of pure, unadulterated bliss that crashed over you and left you trembling in the arms of the women who had claimed you so completely. in the quiet, heavy aftermath, as the five of you lay tangled together in a heap of sweat slicked skin and heavy breathing, the air was still thick with the scent of desire, a silent testament to the beautiful, chaotic night you had all shared.
the moment you finished, the energy in the room didnât dip; it shifted. the focus of the storm moved from you to the two girls who had been watching with predatory patience. giselle and ningning shared a knowing, wicked glance, their eyes dark with a shared hunger that had been building since the first kiss of the night.
karina, ever the director of this beautiful chaos, didnât miss a beat. she slid back, propping herself up on her elbows to get a perfect view, her eyes gleaming with sadistic delight. she loved watching her friends devour each other just as much as she loved devouring you.
âmy turn to watch the show,â karina purred, her voice thick with satisfaction. she reached out and traced a finger along your sweat slicked cheek, keeping you close as the focus shifted. âdonât go to sleep yet, (y/n). the best part is just starting.â
giselle and ningning moved with a synchronized grace, their bodies already humming with heat. they didnât need words. giselle grabbed ningning by the waist, pulling her flush against her, while ningningâs hands immediately found the hem of giselleâs top, tugging it upward with an impatient, hungry energy â the transition was seamless. one moment they were teasing you, and the next, they were a whirlwind of motion directed at each other. they tumbled onto the center of the bed, their limbs tangling in a frantic, desperate dance. giselleâs lips were everywhere on ningningâs neck, her collarbone, her breasts while ningning responded with fierce, biting kisses and low, guttural moans that echoed through the quiet suite.
the sound of their passion was intoxicating. giselle was dominant, her hands gripping ningningâs hips with a possessive strength as she drove them both toward the edge, while ningning was a whirlwind of sensation, her legs wrapping tightly around giselleâs waist, pulling her closer as if she could never be close enough. their voices rose in a duet of soft cries and sharp gasps, creating a rhythm that pulsed through the entire room.
karina leaned over you, her gaze never wavering from the spectacle. she reached down, her fingers finding yours and lacing them together, her thumb stroking your knuckles in a slow, grounding motion that contrasted with the wild energy of the other two. she leaned in, her lips hovering just an inch from yours, her breath hot and smelling of the wine theyâd shared.
âlook at them, (y/n).â karina whispered, her voice a dark, sultry velvet. she nudged your chin up so you had no choice but to watch giselleâs lips sink into ningningâs neck. âtheyâre losing their minds. and soon, weâre all going to lose ours.â
as the intensity of giselle and ningningâs encounter reached its peak, the air in the suite felt heavy, almost tangible, with the sheer force of their shared release. the bed shook slightly with the force of their movements, and as they finally collapsed into a heap of tangled limbs and heavy breathing, the silence that followed was not empty, it was filled with the lingering electricity of their climax. the night was far from over, but the foundation of desire had been laid, and as karinaâs eyes turned back to you with a predatory, unquenchable hunger, you knew the real storm was still brewing.
your silence was a heavy, breathless invitation. you lay there, your skin still tingling and sensitive from the onslaught of pleasure, your messy hair fanned out like a beautiful and soft silk stain against the white pillows. your eyes were half lidded, glazed with a mixture of exhaustion and a deep, unquenchable hunger that hadnât been fully sated yet. karina saw it. she always saw it. she saw the way your chest rose and fell in shallow, jagged breaths, and the way your gaze drifted toward her, pleading and demanding all at once. a slow, dark smirk pulled at the corners of her lips the look of a woman who knew she had exactly what she wanted, and was about to take it.
âstill hungry, baby?â karina whispered, her voice a low, dangerous vibration. she didnât wait for an answer. she leaned down, her body hovering over yours, her weight a delicious pressure that grounded you. she captured your lips in a kiss that was slow, deep, and incredibly possessive, tasting the lingering heat of the night on your tongue.
as she kissed you, the others began to stir. the exhaustion was there, but the adrenaline was stronger. giselle and ningning, still tangled and slick with sweat, pulled themselves apart just enough to crawl toward the center of the bed. winter, no longer the shy observer, moved with a newfound purpose, her eyes fixed on you with a quiet, intense devotion.
the bed became a crowded, beautiful landscape of soft skin and heated breath. karina was the anchor, her hands roaming your body with a practiced, dominant grace, while the others converged on you like a tide. giselleâs lips found the curve of your shoulder, ningningâs hands began to roam your thighs again, and winter settled close to your side, her warmth a comforting, steady presence â it was a beautiful, overwhelming sensory overload. you were surrounded on all sides by the scent of perfume, sweat, and pure arousal. every time you thought you had reached your limit, a new touch, a new kiss, or a new whispered word from one of them pushed you just a little bit further.
karina pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, her dark gaze burning into yours. she reached down, her fingers lacing through yours, pinning your hand to the pillow as she leaned in to whisper against your lips. âweâre not letting you go anywhere tonight, (y/n).â she promised, her voice thick with a predatory promise. âweâre going to keep you right here, in the middle of us, until the sun comes up.â
and as the five of you merged into one singular, pulsing entity of desire, the world outside the hotel suite ceased to exist. there was only the heat, the rhythm, and the intoxicating, endless dance of five women lost in each other.
the atmosphere in the room shifted from chaotic to intensely focused. karina, ever the one to take command and push the boundaries of pleasure, decided it was time to claim her prize in the most dominant way possible. with a wicked, knowing look shared between her and the other girls, she moved with a predatory grace, crawling up your body until she was positioned directly over your face. the weight of her was a delicious, heavy pressure, her hips settling firmly against your cheeks. you could feel the heat radiating from her skin, the scent of her expensive perfume and the faint, intoxicating musk of arousal filling your senses. she looked down at you, her dark hair falling like a silken curtain around both of your faces, creating a private, darkened world just for the two of you.
âyouâve been such a good girl, (y/n).â karina purred, her voice vibrating through her thighs and directly into your jawline. she leaned forward slightly, her hands planting firmly on either side of your head, pinning you to the plush mattress. her eyes were hooded, dark, and filled with an unquenchable hunger. ânow, itâs time to show you exactly how much we appreciate you.â
as she slowly lowered herself, the sensation was overwhelming. the softness of her skin against your lips and nose, the intense heat of her, and the sheer dominance of her position left you breathless. you could feel the dampness of her arousal, a slick, heady invitation that demanded your attention. karina wasnât just sitting there; she was claiming you, her movements deliberate and teasing as she ground her hips in a slow, rhythmic motion against your mouth.
the other girls watched, mesmerized. giselle and ningning leaned in closer, their eyes wide with anticipation, while winter sat perched on the edge of the bed, her breath hitching at the sight. they were all caught in the gravitational pull of karinaâs dominance and your silent, hungry submission.
karina reached down, her fingers tangling in your sweaty and messy hair, pulling your head back just enough to expose your throat before guiding you back to her. she began to move with a more insistent rhythm, her hips rolling in a way that forced you to taste her, to breathe her in. every time you tried to gasp for air, she would shift just enough to let you in, only to press back down with a renewed, commanding intensity.
âtaste me, (y/n).â she commanded, her voice a low, gravelly rasp that sent shivers racing down your spine. âdonât miss a single drop. show me how much you want it.â
the sensation was an incredible, overwhelming overload. the warmth, the taste, the scent, and the sheer, raw power of her sitting atop you made your head spin. you were lost in the rhythm of her, your hands reaching up to grip her hips, your fingers digging into her skin as you desperately tried to keep up with the delicious, demanding pace she set. the world outside the bed disappeared, replaced entirely by the heat of karinaâs body and the primal, intoxicating dance of her hips against your face.
as her movements grew faster and more frantic, karina let out a low, guttural moan, her head falling back as she surrendered to the sensation of your tongue working against her. she gripped your hair tighter, her knuckles white, guiding your mouth with a desperate, uninhibited hunger. the other girls were practically breathless, watching the display of dominance and devotion with wide, hungry eyes.
âyes... just like that.â karina gasped, her voice breaking as she neared her peak. she ground herself down against you one last time, a powerful, rhythmic surge that felt like it would shatter you both.
while karina was busy asserting her dominance above you, claiming your mouth and your breath, the heat beneath you was just as intense. giselle, who had been watching with a hungry, focused gaze, decided she wasnât going to let you be the only one being worshipped. she slid down the bed, her movements fluid and purposeful, until she was positioned between your thighs.
the sensation was a dizzying, dual assault on your senses. above, you were drowning in the intoxicating taste and scent of karina; below, you were being met with the expert, feverish hunger of giselle. as giselle pressed her face against you, the warmth of her breath sent a fresh jolt of electricity straight to your core.
giselle didnât hesitate. she leaned in, her lips parting as she made first contact with your sensitive skin. unlike the shy, hesitant movements of winter, giselle was a pro; she was confident, assertive, and knew exactly how to drive a girl insane. her tongue was long and firm, tracing the delicate lines of your anatomy with a rhythmic, sweeping motion that made your hips buck instinctively against the mattress.
she let out a low, appreciative hum against your skin, a sound that vibrated through your entire lower body. her hands reached up, her long fingers gripping your thighs and spreading them even wider, anchoring you so she could get deeper, more intimate. she began to focus on your most sensitive spot, her tongue flicking with a precise, relentless intensity that felt like liquid fire.
the contrast was overwhelming. you were caught in a pincer maneuver of pure pleasure. karinaâs weight on your face provided a heavy, grounding pressure, her hips grinding rhythmically against your lips, while giselleâs mouth was a whirlwind of wet, swirling sensations below. every time you tried to moan, the sound was muffled by karina, only to be echoed by the sharp, needy gasps escaping your throat as giselle found a particularly sensitive nerve.
giselleâs technique was masterful. she used a combination of soft, teasing licks and deep, demanding suction that left you seeing stars. she could feel the way your muscles were twitching, the way your breath was hitching in sync with her movements. she leaned into it, her nose brushing against you, her entire focus narrowed down to the taste of you and the way you reacted to her every move.
karina, feeling the tremors running through your body, leaned down even further, her chest pressing against your face as she looked down at giselleâs work. a dark, triumphant grin spread across her face. she reached down, her fingers lacing into your sweaty hair, her other hand reaching down to guide giselleâs head, pressing her even closer to you.
âlook at you, (y/n)...â karina whispered, her voice a husky, distorted growl through the heat of her own body. âgetting devoured from both sides. youâre taking it so well... such a greedy little thing.â
the room was a symphony of wet sounds, heavy breathing, and the frantic heartbeat of five women pushed to their absolute limits. you were the epicenter of a storm of sensation, trapped between the commanding dominance of karina and the expert, ravishing hunger of giselle, as the world dissolved into a blur of pure, unadulterated ecstasy.
the sensory overload was now absolute. you were no longer a person; you were a vessel of pure sensation, a living nerve ending caught in a beautiful, erotic crossfire. as karina dominated your mouth and giselle worshipped your core, the upper half of your body was claimed by the others, ensuring that not a single inch of you was left untouched.
winter, the shy girl who had finally found her courage, and ningning, the playful provocateur, moved in on your chest. they worked in a frantic, hungry tandem, their bodies pressing against your sides as they leaned in to claim your breasts.
ningning was the first to make her mark. she didnât hold back, her lips finding one nipple and taking it into her mouth with a sudden, demanding suction. she used her teeth just enough to send sharp, electric jolts through your chest, her hands roaming up to squeeze your breasts, kneading the soft flesh with a desperate, playful energy. she let out a low, satisfied moan against your skin, her tongue swirling around the peak in a way that made your toes curl.
on your other side, winter was more tender, yet just as intense. her touch was soft, almost reverent, as she cupped your breast in her small hands. she leaned in, her lips grazing your skin before she began to suckle with a slow, rhythmic devotion. her tongue was warm and wet, tracing the underside of your breast before focusing on the tip, her movements gentle yet incredibly focused, as if she were trying to memorize the taste of you.
the sensation was maddening. you were being pulled in four different directions by four different styles of pleasure. the sharp, biting hunger of ningning on one side, the soft, worshipful suction of winter on the other, the heavy, commanding weight of karina on your face, and the relentless, expert tongue of giselle between your legs. every breath you took was a struggle, every gasp a plea for more.
karina, feeling the frantic movements of the other girls, leaned down, her face inches from yours. she could hear the wet, slapping sounds of winter and ningningâs mouths on your skin, the heavy breathing of giselle, and the muffled, desperate sounds coming from your own throat. a look of pure, unadulterated triumph crossed her face.
âgod, look at youâŠâ karina groaned, her voice thick with lust as she felt the vibrations of your pleasure through her own body. she reached down, her hands moving to grab winter and ningning by their hair, pulling them even tighter against you, forcing them to deepen their assault. âdonât stop! eat her! i want her to feel every single one of you!â
the bed was a battlefield of desire. the air was thick with the scent of arousal and the frantic, rhythmic sounds of five women lost in a singular, carnal purpose. you were the sun, and they were all orbiting you, caught in a gravitational pull of pure, uninhibited ecstasy. as the intensity climbed toward an impossible peak, the boundaries between your bodies and theirs began to vanish, leaving only the heat, the taste, and the overwhelming, beautiful chaos of the night.
the peace was shortâlived. the moment you thought you had found a moment to breathe, the hunger in the room surged back to life. the girls werenât finished with you not by a long shot. they were like predators who had tasted blood and were now driven by an insatiable, collective craving.
giselle, her eyes dark and dilated with a renewed sense of purpose, didnât let you settle. she moved with a smooth, predatory grace, crawling up the bed until she was hovering over you once more. she looked down at you with a smirk that was both beautiful and dangerous, her skin still slick and glowing from her previous climax.
âdonât get too comfortable, baby.â giselle whispered, her voice a low, sultry command. without waiting for a response, she lowered herself down. the weight of her was a heavy, delicious pressure, her hips settling firmly over your nose and mouth. she positioned herself perfectly, her heat pressing directly against your lips, inviting you back into her world of sensation.
but she wasnât the only one claiming you. ningning, ever the one to crave contact and mischief, slid down to your side. she didnât want to be a spectator anymore; she wanted to be part of the friction. she moved between your legs, her body pressing tightly against your thigh, and began to rub her own swollen, aching cunt directly against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh and the edge of your hip.
the sensation was a dizzying, dual layered assault. above, you were being smothered by the intoxicating scent and weight of giselle, her hips beginning to grind in a slow, demanding rhythm that forced you to breathe her in. below, ningning was a constant, pulsing friction, her wetness smearing against you as she moved her hips in a frantic, rhythmic dance, seeking the relief only your body could provide.
karina, watching from just above, let out a low, appreciative groan. she reached down, her hands finding your waist to steady you, her fingers digging into your skin as she watched the spectacle. she leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear, her voice a heated, ragged whisper.
âlook at you... caught in the middle of it all again.â karina teased, her breath hot against your skin. âgiselle wants you to worship her, and ningning wants to melt into you. youâre the center of our whole world right now, (y/n).â
the room was filled with the sounds of intense, rhythmic friction the wet, slapping sound of giselleâs hips against your face, the soft, desperate gasps of ningning as she rubbed herself against you, and your own muffled, frantic moans as you tried to navigate the overwhelming sensation. you were being squeezed, rubbed, and smothered in a beautiful, erotic vice.
giselle began to increase the pace, her movements becoming more aggressive, more desperate. she was no longer just sitting; she was riding the sensation of your mouth, her hips rolling in deep, heavy circles that made your head swim. meanwhile, ningningâs movements became more frantic, her breath coming in short, sharp hitches as she pressed herself harder against you, her desire reaching a fever pitch.
you were trapped in a beautiful, carnal loop of pleasure, a prisoner to their hunger, and as the heat rose once more, you knew that the night was far from over. the storm wasnât passing; it was just gathering strength for a second, even more violent, wave of ecstasy.
the sensation of giselleâs heavy, rhythmic grinding against your lips, combined with the frantic, wet friction of ningningâs body against your hip, pushed you toward a state of sensory delirium. you were drowning in them in their scent, their heat, and their unyielding demand for your attention. every time you tried to draw a breath, giselle would press down harder, her hips rolling in deep, punishingly perfect circles that forced you to taste her essence, while ningningâs desperate, rhythmic rubbing sent waves of electricity through your entire lower half.
âyes... just like that, ningning! use her!â karinaâs voice rose in a triumphant, jagged command, her hands moving from your waist to your hair, pulling your head back slightly to give you a clearer view of the chaos. she was watching the way giselleâs skin glided against yours, the way ningning was practically vibrating with the need to reach her own peak.
the tension in the room became a physical weight, thick and suffocatingly erotic. you could feel the moment the threshold was crossed. giselleâs movements suddenly became sharp, frantic, and uncoordinated as she gripped your shoulders, her back arching as a silent, powerful tremor tore through her. simultaneously, ningning let out a high, broken cry, her hips slamming against you one last time before she collapsed against your side, her body shuddering in the throes of a violent, beautiful release.
as giselle finally slumped forward, her weight pressing you deep into the mattress, the world seemed to explode in a final, blinding flash of pure sensation. you were caught in the crossfire of their dual climaxes, the sheer intensity of their shared ecstasy pulling you over the edge of a cliff you hadnât even realized you were climbing. your body bucked, your vision blurred, and for a few long, breathless seconds, there was nothing in the universe but the heat of their skin and the overwhelming, divine chaos of the moment.
the room was still thick with the heavy, sweet scent of spent passion. you lay there, your chest heaving, your skin flushed and slick with sweat, feeling like you had been through a beautiful, erotic war. your voice, though a little raspy from the muffled cries, cut through the quiet of the suite like a spark in a powder keg.
âare we done? or whatâs next?â
the question hung in the air, provocative and daring. the other girls, who had been drifting in the hazy afterglow of their own climaxes, all snapped their heads toward you. the exhaustion was there, but your hunger that unquenchable, hazy eyed fire was clearly still burning.
karina, who was still draped partially over you, let out a low, dark chuckle that vibrated against your skin. a slow, dangerous grin spread across karinaâs face. she loved that you were asking. it meant the hunger hadnât been extinguished; it had only been stoked into a wildfire. she lifted her head, her hair a messy, beautiful halo around her face, her eyes smoldering with a renewed, predatory intensity. she looked at the other girls, a silent communication passing between them. the âafterglowâ was officially over; the hunt was back on.
âwhatâs next?â karina repeated, her voice a sultry, dangerous purr. she leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear, her breath hot and teasing. âyou really are a greedy little thing, aren't you? most girls would be begging for sleep, but you... you want more.â
giselle, still flushed from her release, propped herself up on one elbow, a wicked smirk playing on her lips. she reached out and traced the line of your jaw with a finger. âi think we know whatâs nextâ she whispered, her gaze dropping to your lips.
ningning, ever the playful one, sat up and began to crawl toward you, her eyes dancing with mischief. âwe havenât even gotten to the best part yet,â she teased, her hands already reaching for the hem of your shirt again. âweâve been taking turns, but maybe itâs time we all... work together.â
winter, who had been quiet, watched the shift in energy with wide, sparkling eyes. the shyness was still there, but it was being overtaken by a desperate, eager curiosity. she moved closer, her hand tentatively reaching out to touch your arm, her touch light and electric.
karina sat up fully then, her gaze sweeping over the group, her expression one of pure, unadulterated command. she was the queen of this chaos, and she was about to orchestrate the grand finale. ânext,â karina said, her voice dropping to a commanding, velvety low, âis a complete surrender. no more taking turns. no more watching from the sidelines. weâre going to lose ourselves in you, (y/n). all of us. at once.â
she looked at giselle and ningning, a silent command in her eyes. they moved instantly, positioning themselves on either side of you. she looked at winter, beckoning her forward with a tilt of her head. finally, karinaâs eyes locked onto yours, dark and filled with a promise of something even more intense, more overwhelming, and more beautiful than anything you had experienced so far. âget ready, baby.â karina whispered, a slow, triumphant grin spreading across her face as she began to lean back down toward you. âbecause weâre about to show you exactly what ânextâ looks like.â
the air in the room seemed to thicken as the focus shifted. while the other girls were loud, aggressive, and demanding, winter remained a quiet, shimmering presence at the edge of the bed. she was watching you with an intensity that was almost unnerving a silent, wide eyed devotion that felt like a prayer. she hadnât quite found her voice in the chaos, but her eyes were screaming for you.
karina, sensing the unspoken tension, let out a soft, knowing hum. she nudged winter with her shoulder, her voice a teasing whisper. âdonât just sit there being a good girl, winter. sheâs practically begging for you. go on... show her that quiet side of yours has some teeth.â
winterâs breath hitched. a deep, rosy flush crept up her neck and flooded her cheeks. she looked at you, her puppy eyes searching yours for permission, and when she saw the hunger in your green eyes, she finally moved. she crawled forward with a hesitant, graceful elegance, her movements almost feline as she settled between your legs.
as you reached out, pulling her closer, the dynamic changed. where giselle had been fierce and ningning had been playful, winter was... profound. when you leaned down, your lips finally meeting her skin, she let out a sound that was less of a moan and more of a soft, broken sob of relief.
you began to worship her, your tongue tracing the sensitive skin of her inner thighs before finding her center. the moment your mouth made contact, winterâs entire body jolted. her fingers flew to your soft hair, not pulling with dominance like karina, but clutching you with a desperate, trembling need, as if you were the only thing keeping her grounded.
as you worked your tongue against her, your fingers sliding inside her to find her rhythm, winterâs quietness transformed into something much more primal. she wasnât loud, but she was vocal in a way that felt more intimate: small, sharp gasps, the rhythmic catching of her breath, and the way she whispered your name like a secret between the two of you.
the sensation of your fingers stretching her, the wet, rhythmic suction of your mouth, and the sheer intensity of her focus on you created a bubble of intimacy in the middle of the crowded bed. you could feel her pulsing around your fingers, her muscles twitching in anticipation of the release you were expertly coaxing out of her.
karina, giselle, and ningning had slowed their own movements, leaning in close to watch. they were mesmerized by the sight of you, the girl with the fiery and beautiful hair, completely lost in the act of devouring the quietest member of their group. they watched the way your hands worked, the way your eyes stayed focused on her face, and the way winterâs expression shifted from shy hesitation to pure, unadulterated ecstasy.
winterâs head fell back against the pillows, her eyes fluttering shut as she neared the edge. her hands tightened in your hair, her hips beginning to lift off the bed in an instinctive search for more pressure. â(y/n)...â she whimpered, her voice a tiny, beautiful wreck of sound. âplease... donât stop... pleaseâŠâ
the room was silent except for the wet sounds of your devotion and the frantic, shallow breathing of the girl beneath you. you were the one in control now, the silent architect of her pleasure, driving her toward a climax that felt as sacred as it was carnal.
the intimate bubble you had created with winter was suddenly, deliciously breached. just as you were driving winter toward the edge, your tongue working in perfect tandem with your fingers, a new heat pressed against your backside. you felt a pair of soft, eager hands slide around your waist, pulling your hips back toward a new source of hunger: ningning, never one to stay on the sidelines for long, had decided she wanted a taste of the main course. with a playful, mischievous giggle that vibrated against your skin, she maneuvered herself behind you. she didnât wait for an invitation; she simply dove in, her lips finding the sensitive junction of your thighs from behind.
the sensation was a staggering, multi directional assault. from the front, you were still deep in the rhythmic, worshipful devotion of winter, whose quiet whimpers were turning into frantic, breathless gasps as you continued to tease her. but now, from behind, ningning was attacking your heat with a completely different energy. she was all teeth and tongue, her movements quick, wet, and incredibly teasing.
ningningâs tongue flicked against your clit with a rapid, staccato rhythm that contrasted sharply with winterâs slow, deep suction. she was playing you like an instrument, her hands reaching around to squeeze your breasts or knead your hips, driving you into a frenzy of sensation. the dual stimulation was almost too much to bear; you were caught in a pincer maneuver of pure, unadulterated pleasure.
âoh god...â you gasped, your head lolling back. you were trapped between two different worlds: the soft, reverent ecstasy of winter in front of you, and the wild, uninhibited hunger of ningning behind you.
karina, watching this spectacular display from above, let out a low, predatory growl of approval. she reached down, her hands gripping your hips to steady you as you bucked under the dual onslaught. âthatâs it! get her! both of you!â she commanded, her voice thick with lust. she leaned down, her lips brushing your shoulder, her eyes dark as she watched you being devoured.
the room was a cacophony of pleasure: the wet, rhythmic sounds of her mouth working on you, the frantic gasps of winter as she neared her peak, and the low, triumphant moans of the other girls. you felt like you were being pulled apart by two different tides, your body arching and trembling as you struggled to process the sheer volume of sensation.
ningningâs tongue became even more insistent, her suction deepening as she felt you beginning to tremble. she was chasing your climax, her movements becoming more frantic, more desperate. at the same time, winterâs hands tightened in your hair, her hips beginning to roll in a desperate, rhythmic search for the final release you were providing.
you were the epicenter of a beautiful, erotic storm, caught in a collision of two different kinds of passion, and as the tension reached a breaking point, you knew that the explosion was only seconds away.
âoh god...â you gasped, your head lolling back, eyes rolling back into your head. you were trapped between two entirely different worlds: the soft, reverent ecstasy of winter in front of you, and the wild, uninhibited hunger of ningning behind you. the air in the room seemed to crackle and weigh down with the sheer volume of arousal.
karina, watching the scene unfold from above, was practically vibrating with tension. she didnât just watch; she participated, her fingers digging into your hips, pulling you back against ningning even more firmly. she leaned down, her voice a low, guttural whisper that cut through the sounds of wetness and gasping. âlook at you... being taken care of from both sides. do you feel that, (y/n)? how much they want you?â
every time you tried to focus on winter, ningningâs tongue would snap back into place, stealing your attention with a sudden, sharp flick of pleasure. and every time you tried to lean back into ningning, winterâs desperate, needy whines would draw you back down. you were the bridge between them, the source of their shared hunger, and the pressure was becoming unbearable.
the world didnât just blur; it shattered. you were no longer a person, but a raw, pulsing nerve ending caught in a violent collision of pleasure. the dual assault was too much, a beautiful, agonizing overload that pushed your nervous system to the absolute brink.
from the front, winterâs quiet, worshipful devotion reached a fever pitch. as your fingers worked deep inside her and your tongue maintained that steady, rhythmic pressure, she let out a sharp, high pitched cry, a sound of pure, uninhibited surrender. her body stiffened, her back arching so hard it felt like she might break, her internal muscles clamping around your fingers in a series of frantic, rhythmic spasms that sent a jolt of sympathetic electricity straight into your own core.
but before you could even process winterâs release, ningningâs hunger from behind slammed into you like a tidal wave. sensing you were on the precipice, ningning abandoned all teasing. she became relentless, her tongue a blurring, frantic machine of wet heat, her suction so intense it felt like she was trying to pull your very soul out of you. she was chasing your peak with a predatory ferocity, her hands gripping your hips so hard her knuckles were white.
the two climaxes collided within you. the soft, trembling ecstasy of qinter and the wild, jagged fire of ningning merged into one singular, earth shattering explosion. your vision went white. your lungs seized. a long, silent scream died in your throat as your body bucked uncontrollably, your hips slamming back against ningning while your head thrashed against the pillow.
you were drowning in the sensation of your own release, the intense, pulsing contractions of your walls, the heat of their mouths, the weight of karinaâa hands anchoring you to the bed. it felt as though you were being torn apart and put back together all at once.
karina, seeing you break, let out a triumphant, guttural roar. she didnât just watch; she leaned down and captured your mouth in a deep, bruising kiss, her tongue tangling with yours as if she were trying to drink in your very essence. she was the conductor of this madness, her body vibrating in sync with your frantic tremors.
as the intense waves of your orgasm finally began to ebb into a slow, heavy throb, the room fell into a state of beautiful, exhausted wreckage. the only sounds were the ragged, desperate gasps of five women, the wet slapping of skin, and the heavy, humid air of the suite.
ningning finally slowed, her forehead resting against your lower back, her breath hot and shaky. winter collapsed beside you, her eyes glazed and beautiful, her chest heaving in synchronization with yours. karina remained draped over you, her weight a comforting, heavy presence that kept you from floating away into the ether.
you lay there, a beautiful, broken mess of sweaty hair and flushed skin, completely spent. the silence that followed was thick, heavy with the scent of sex and the profound, quiet intimacy of what you had just shared. you were exhausted, overwhelmed, and utterly, completely conquered.
the exhaustion was a lie. the moment you felt ningningâs hot, playful breath against your skin again, a new, sharp hunger flared up in your gut. you werenât done. the adrenaline of the previous climaxes was still coursing through your veins, and the sight of ningningâs mischievous, lopsided grin her lips still wet and swollen from you was enough to ignite a fresh fire.
with a sudden, coordinated burst of energy, you and ningning shifted. the movements were fluid and practiced, a dance of mutual desire. you rolled, and she rolled with you, until you were positioned in a perfect, symmetrical tangle of limbs. the sixty nine position was established, your bodies locked in a heated embrace where the only thing that mattered was the taste and sensation of each other.
the sensation was a dizzying, reciprocal loop of pleasure. as you lowered your head, your sweaty and messy hair cascading down to frame her, you were met with the intoxicating scent of her arousal. you didnât hesitate. you dove in, your tongue finding her center with a hungry, confident rhythm that matched her own energy. you wanted to taste her, to devour her, to show her that you could be just as predatory as she was.
ningning, true to her nature, didnât just receive; she attacked. as you worked on her, she leaned into you, her mouth finding you with a frantic, eager intensity. her tongue was a whirlwind of sensation, her suction deep and demanding, her hands reaching up to grip your hips, pulling you even closer, even deeper. it was a beautiful, erotic feedback loop: every time you made her gasp, the sound of her pleasure drove you to work even harder, and every time you teased her, she responded with a ferocity that sent new jolts of electricity through your own body.
the rest of the girls watched, mesmerized by this new, intense dynamic. karina sat up, her eyes dark and hooded, a slow, appreciative smirk on her face as she watched you and ningning lose yourselves in each other. giselle and winter leaned in closer, the air around the bed practically humming with the raw, uninhibited energy of your mutual worship.
âlook at themâŠâ karina whispered, her voice a low, husky rasp. âtwo hungry little beasts, trying to eat each other alive.â
the sounds in the room became a rhythmic, wet symphony. the frantic, shallow breaths of you and ningning, the slapping of skin, the low, guttural moans that escaped you both as the pleasure intensified. you were caught in a whirlpool of sensation, where the line between giving and receiving blurred until it disappeared entirely. you were no longer just a participant; you were a part of a singular, pulsing cycle of lust.
as the intensity climbed, the world narrowed down to just the two of you: the taste of her, the heat of her, and the desperate, beautiful struggle to reach the peak together. you were driving her toward the edge, and she was pulling you right along with her, a synchronized descent into pure, unadulterated ecstasy.
the air in the room reached a fever pitch of anticipation as the dynamic shifted once again. the mutual heat between you and ningning was a wildfire, but karina and giselle were no longer content to be spectators. with a low, knowing glance at each other, they reached for the straps they had brought along dark, sleek, and ready to transform the encounter from a beautiful duet into a full blown symphony of sensation.
you were still locked in your position with ningning, your tongue working its magic on her, when you felt the bed shift. the sudden, heavy weight of karina pressed against ningningâs back, her long, strong legs locking ningningâs in place. karina let out a low, satisfied growl, her hands gripping ningningâs hips and pulling her back, a predatory, confident smile on her face as she slid her strap into place.
at the same time, giselle moved behind you. you felt her hands, firm and sure, glide up your thighs, spreading them wider as she settled herself against you. the first contact of her strap was a jolt of electricity that made your breath hitch. she didnât tease; she didnât hesitate. with a single, powerful surge, giselle filled you, her body shuddering with the sudden, intense connection.
the room dissolved into a chaotic, beautiful blur of sound and motion. you were trapped between ningningâs frantic, desperate tongue and giselleâs relentless, rhythmic thrusts. the pleasure was overwhelming, a dual assault that demanded your total attention. you gasped into ningningâs skin, your fingers digging into her thighs as you tried to keep your balance, your body responding to giselleâs movements with a desperate, needy rhythm of its own.
above you, karina was lost in her own world of ecstasy, her body slamming against ningning in a fierce, commanding cadence. ningningâs moans were now a series of high, broken cries, her back arching as she was driven deeper and deeper into her own release. the two of them were a storm of motion, their bodies colliding with a raw, visceral intensity that echoed through the entire room.
behind you, giselle was a force of nature. her movements were sure and deliberate, each thrust sending a new wave of pleasure through your body, building a tension that was almost unbearable. she leaned forward, her lips brushing against your ear, her breath hot and ragged. âyou feel that, (y/n)?â she whispered, her voice thick with lust. âfeel how much we want you. feel how much you belong to us.â
you were caught in a crossfire of passion, the air thick with the scent of sweat, sex, and the overwhelming presence of four powerful women. your own climax was building, fueled by the combined energy of everyone on the bed. the world narrowed down to the friction of skin, the heat of breath, and the rhythmic, pulsing beat of five hearts all synchronized in a single, primal moment of connection.
as the tension reached its absolute peak, you felt it the moment where the pleasure became too much, where it crossed the line into something transcendental. you gripped ningning, your fingers digging into her, and giselleâs pace increased, her body vibrating with the same desperate need that was tearing through you. with a final, guttural cry, the world exploded into a kaleidoscope of white light and pure, unadulterated bliss, as you and the girls collided in a shared, shattering release.
the friction of giselleâs thrusts and the frantic, wet suction of ningningâs mouth merged into a singular, deafening roar in your mind. you were being pulled in two opposite directions one driving deep into your core, the other pulling at your very soul and the tension was so immense it felt as if you might physically split in two.
the climax hit you like a lightning strike. as giselle delivered a final, deep, punishing thrust, her body trembling with her own release, you felt your walls clamp down on her with a desperate, rhythmic ferocity. simultaneously, ningningâs mouth found your clit one last time, her tongue working with a frantic, starving intensity that sent you spiraling into a void of pure, white light. you let out a long, broken cry, your body arching so violently that you felt weightless, suspended in a sea of pure, unadulterated ecstasy.
the room erupted. karinaâs triumphant roar joined the chorus of gasps and moans as she reached her own peak, her body slamming against ningning in a final, powerful cadence. for several long, breathless seconds, there was no world outside of the bed, only the heat, the friction, and the overwhelming, beautiful chaos of five women losing themselves in each other. as the waves of pleasure finally began to recede, leaving you all gasping and trembling in the wreckage, you knew you had never been more completely, beautifully conquered.
the silence that followed was heavy, thick, and almost sacred. it wasnât the silence of emptiness, but the silence of total, absolute saturation. you lay there, completely motionless, your body feeling less like flesh and bone and more like a collection of glowing, vibrating embers. your messy and sweaty hair was spread across the pillows like a spilled silk shroud, damp with sweat and the remnants of the nightâs passion.
your eyes were open, but you werenât really seeing the room. you were staring at nothing, your gaze unfocused and glazed, your mind still caught in the aftershocks of a climax so violent it felt like it had rewritten your very dna. every inch of your skin was hyper sensitive; the mere brush of the cool air in the room felt like a caress, and the weight of the girls around you felt like a warm, protective cocoon.
giselle, still connected to you, slumped forward, her forehead resting against your stomach as her breathing slowly began to level out. her heart was still hammering a frantic rhythm against your thigh. beside you, ningning had collapsed into a heap, her limbs heavy and uncoordinated, a small, dazed smile plastered on her face as she stared at the ceiling, her chest heaving in shallow, satisfied gasps.
karina was the first to break the stillness. she didnât move away; instead, she crawled upward, her body slick and glowing in the dim light. she hovered over you, her eyes dark, hooded, and filled with a terrifyingly beautiful sort of triumph. she looked down at you at your flushed skin, your swollen lips, and your wide, dazed and soft eyes and she looked like a predator who had just finished the most exquisite feast of her life.
she reached down, her fingers trembling slightly from the sheer exertion, and traced the line of your jaw, her touch incredibly tender despite the raw intensity of the last hour. she leaned down, her lips hovering just a fraction of an inch from yours, her voice a low, primal vibration.
âyouâre still hereâŠâ she whispered, her breath smelling of you, of us. she let out a soft, breathless laugh that was part exhaustion, part pure adoration. âgod, baby... youâre incredible. you took all of us. every single bit of us.â
winter and the others drifted closer, a slow, tangled migration of limbs. there was no more talking, no more commands, no more frantic hunger. there was only the quiet, rhythmic sound of five women breathing in unison, the warmth of skin on skin, and the profound, overwhelming sense of being completely, utterly, and beautifully consumed.
you were the center of their universe, and as you finally allowed your eyes to close, drifting into a deep, heavy slumber, you knew that you hadnât just survived the storm you had become the storm itself.
đČ sister!kirara x reader she teaches you how to give a blow job
cw: incĂšst
You sit there on the edge of Kirara's bed, cheeks burning hot as you twist your fingers in your lap. She's your older sister, she's always been more confident than you and that makes you a little jealous. Your voice comes out so small and shaky when you finally whisper it. "Kirara⊠um⊠could you⊠teach me how to give a blow job? Please?"
She smiles slow and knowing, her eyes darkening with something that makes your stomach flip. "Oh sweetie," she says, she's been waiting for this. "Of course I can. Come here."
Before you can even think, she's pulling you closer, her hand firm on the back of your neck. The power she has over you feels so heavy, so right. She's bigger, stronger and right now she's in total control. You drop to your knees between her legs without her even having to push, your face level with her lap as she unzips her pants.
Her cock springs free, thick and heavy, already half-hard and twitching under your wide-eyed stare. It's so much bigger than you imagined: veins stand out along the shaft, the head flushed and shiny. "So eager already," Kirara murmurs, stroking herself once with a lazy hand. "Open your mouth, sis. I'll show you exactly how I like it."
You part your lips shyly and she guides the tip right against your tongue. The taste is salty and warm, filling your senses as she slides in deeper. "Good girl. Swirl your tongue around the head like that⊠yeah hah, jus' like that." Her fingers tighten in your hair, not letting you pull back even a little. She rocks her hips forward, pushing more of her thick cock into your wet mouth.
You gag softly when she hits the back of your throat, but she doesn't stop. "Relax your throat for me and breathe through your nose. You're doing this for me, remember?"
She's your older sister, the one who always knows better, and now she's using your mouth like it's hers to train. Tears prick your eyes but you keep going, sucking sloppily as she teaches you the rhythm.
"Faster with that tongue. Hollow your cheeks⊠fuuuck, yes." Kirara's breathing gets heavier, her cock throbbing against your tongue. She starts thrusting more deliberately, fucking your face while you kneel there obediently. Spit drips down your chin, messy and humiliating, but it only makes her moan louder. "You're such a natural cocksucker. Taking me so deep already."
She holds your head steady with both hands now, using you harder. Her balls press against your chin as she buries herself to the hilt, groaning your name. The room fills with wet sounds and her low commands. "Nghhh, so good. Swallow every inch like the good sis I know you are."
Her hips stutter and suddenly she's cumming. Thick ropes of cum flood your mouth, shooting straight down your throat. You try to pull back but her grip is iron, forcing you to stay right there. "Swallow it all⊠don't waste any of my cum." You choke and gulp desperately, the salty taste overwhelming as you obey, tears rolling down your flushed cheeks.
Kirara keeps you there until she's empty, patting your head like a pet. "See? You learned so well. Next time we'll practice even longer." She finally lets you pull off, a string of spit and cum connecting your swollen lips to her softening cock. You feel so small, so owned, but the heat between your own legs tells you how much you needed this.
đđ She has the slightest bit of a breeding kink. It just when she's wrapped in the warmth of your cunt, she can't help but imagine pulling out just a bit to late. The image of you pumped full of her cum, almost leaking. Or how pretty you would look with milk leaking from your nipples.
âyouâre s'perfect,â she gasps between thrusts, voice almost breaking. âso full for meâ wanna keep you like thisâŠâ
đđ She loves to watch you ride her, or even just grind against her bulge. Her game will be long forgotten on her monitor, you're sat in her lap, panty cladded core against hers.
đđ Speaking of riding, on most occasions she'll have your tit stuffed in her mouth. Moving her tongue around the hardened bud.
đđ Megan tends to have you cockwarm her after. She'll nuzzle into the curve of your neck, still semi-hard, murmuring incoherent rambles into your skin.
âjus' a little longer⊠please.â
âđđâ
a/n : sorry that my first post is a lil short (^_^;)
i know u wrote a omega!maki x omega reader but could u maybe write an alpha!maki? đ„č
TWO OF HEARTS ââââ ALPHA! MAKI ZENIN
4.8k Â·àŒ»đ«±àŒș· Maki wants to take your relationship to the next level. You're more than agreeable to that idea.
content. a/b/o au âą alpha maki âą omega reader âą established relationship âą butchfemme dynamics âą canon divergence âą time skip âą sorcerer maki âą clan daughter reader âą introspection âą (lighthearted) corruption kink âą dirty talk âą marriage kink âą morning sex âą
i know i said...like a month ago that this was "almost finished" but as i was reading over it, i discovered that i fucking hated it and deleted it all and did a completely different angle. hope you enjoy anonja!
and before we begin, in the amala omegaverse, all female alphas and male omegas have both genitalia. so yes, maki's dick gets hard. if that bothers you, just pretend its a strapon or something.
Maki knows her reputation precedes her.
From a sniveling worm at the bottom of the Zenin totem pole, unable to even see curses to the slaughter of her clan's entire military branch. So she knows, she swear she does, that the rest of the jujutsu world isn't like the circle she's carved out for herself with her peers and Gojo as a steadfast mentor. They can't see her the way they do.
To the rest of the jujutsu world, Maki Zenin knows she'll always be more of a monster than a woman.
She expected that she would have scared you off, in the beginning. Even Gojo had pulled her aside and teased about your "sensitive nature". She knew the drill : steer clear of the prissy clan girl.
Clan girls invoke their own image in her mind. And like her reputation, it isn't a pleasant one. Girls no girl wants to be, but a fate that most aren't lucky to escape. Always omegas, with their soft scents and clear skin. Their pretty figures and hair fashioned neatly. Demure personalities, melodious voices.
Maki doesn't really...like omegas. Doesn't know how to conduct herself around them in a way that won't terrify them. She's an alpha, but a female one, and that's already a rarity. The scars all over her body certainly don't help.
She wasn't too keen on having some clan omega here, sniffling around the school, making her feel unwelcome. Because the clan omegas never come alone. There's always their alpha husband if they're married, or a beta bodyguard of some sort if they aren't. So she avoided you. For months.
You found her one night, wandering the track. Her head was throbbingâbecause she told Shoko she didn't need to take anything for her migraine. Mostly out of pride, which is beginning to get her into a bit of trouble.
"Oh!" You had said, which shot through her aching head like an arrow. Her instincts latched onto the sound, rolling it around in her mind again and again. Pretty. And you had a nice scent too. "Are you alright, Maki?"
Maki glanced around. It was much too late for her to either pretend she hadn't seen you or make her escape. But where was your...watchful eye?
"How do you know my name?" She asked instead and forced her gaze to soften when she narrowed her steely eyes at you.
You didn't flinch at all. Maybe you were used to it. Instead you smiled. At her.
And she's been gone for you since.
Maki's never believed in any of that alpha bullshit. The whole domineering, controlling act.
Or the whole bit where omegas are the ones 'secretly in control' of their alphasâit's just lie clan girls are fed since they were old enough to comprehend human speech. To keep them docile and harmless. To know that all they have to do to get their alpha husbands to hit them less or to maybe stop them from having so many children is to give him what he wants.
Be sexy. But not too sexy, because alphas don't want whores. They want wives. Soft-spoken, sweet on the eyes. And a figure that'll get them hard. Good with children, unless you're in a bigger clan, where betas and lesser born omegas do all of the hard work for you.
She only knows that bit because she was expected to present as an omega, like Mai. Of course, she hadn't.
Maki isn't some knot-dumb alpha who loses her mind at a nice scent. Not even a really nice one. But what she loses her mind over is this : an omega who touches her arm carefully, who prattles on and on about whatever's caught her attention. An omega who insists on everything being neat and pretty, nice legs and a nape that makes Maki's fangs itch. An omega who is kind. Kind to weaker sorcerers, kind to the auxiliary staff. Kind to people she passes on the street.
To old men, to the beggars, to the children, to the girl running from an alpha who can't take no for an answer. An omega who stands up for the weak in the best way she knows how, who stands up to the strong even when it scares her; makes her breath run quick and her delicate flowery scent turn bitter with fear.
For an omega like that; Maki will do anything to keep her. And she has.
You stir against her. You've actually been awake for some time, but for some reason beyond her, you like to pretend. It's easy to tellâ because when you are asleep, you become a terror. You hog the blankets. Sometimes your arms and legs thrash while deep within the land of dreams, causing Maki to be attacked at odd hours of the night.
And every night, against your own will, you end up on the other side of the bed. Sometimes (if she is awake hours before you even think to rouse) one of your limbs will hang precariously off the edge of the bed.
When you do wake, you immediately latch onto her side again. Sweet as a daisy, plastering onto whatever part of her body you can reach. So it's easy to tell.
At this point in the morning, you've been awake for quite some time before Maki just rushes out with it, nerves be damned : "I would like to marry you. If you don't hate that idea"
She feels your smile pressed into her neck. "Why would I ever hate being married to you, Maki?"
"Wellâ" She flounders, sucking her teeth. "Shit. I don't know. I just. Well I wanted to ask." Isn't it important to know where you both stand, or something like that?
Your giggle spins around inside her brain, like a record stuck on repeat. "Oh-ho." Your gummy smile turns all sweet and bashful, dreamy-eyed gaze. "Are you afraid of what my parents might think?"
Maki snorts and rolls her eyes (mostly to hide the fact that she's blushing). What your parents should think is that they're eternally grateful for the existence of Maki Zenin who murdered her cousin, Naoya, who would have been your husband (that had not been a factor in killing himâshe was going to do that anyway). That you still care enough about either of them to still want that connection. That you choose to don your best yukata every Sunday evening to take dinner with them. That their daughter has an alpha who loves her, even if that alpha is Maki Zeninâwho is no good for anything.
"My parents think," You begin pointedly, when Maki does not confirm or deny your earlier statement. "Of my happiness. And that my alpha should maybe start planning her proposal, unless she intends to court me for the rest of her life"
Maki heavily doubts that, but says nothing. Your parents are probably waiting for a curse to finally kill her so they can match you up with a better, more virile alpha.
"Well, your parents are probably right" She says instead, pulling you half on top of her and gripping the soft doughy around your hips. "But, for the record, I do not intent to court my omega for the rest of my life and I do, in fact, plan on getting over my insecurities. Because I've already corrupted you, and your parents will be so heartbroken now that I've deflowered their only omega daughter by not claiming her, when I've done everything else"
You giggle again. "You didn't corrupt me, Maki. This isn't the old days" But you squirm on top of her anyway, looking sweet.
"Mhm" Maki hums dryly, and slides her (cold) hand underneath the waistband of your lacey pajama shorts. "So, you weren't a good, sweet girl before you met me?"
"Wellâ" Your words pitch off into a delicate little sigh as her hand massages your stomach and waist, trailing lower. Something about it makes her fangs itch. She isn't into the whole alpha puritan bullshit, but something makes her smug, knowing she got to you before some other alpha did.
"I bet you were all demure. Pourin tea for your parent's guests. Hung out with other pretty, delicate little omegas. And never talking to alphas, cause they're trouble, that's what your parents told you anyway. And you listen to them, always. I bet you even say your sir's and ma'am's because you're a really good girl. And that means absolutely never letting alphas in your panties, hm?" The words pour out of her mouth like filth, she can't stop.
Your wriggle, trying to coax her hand where you want it. Maki doesn't, because she's trying to feel you up instead, and right now, that's more fun. Her fingers skirt alongside the edge of your panties, before moving to grope your butt and back up to your waist again.
"Maki" You whine, eyes narrowing into little slits. "I'm still goodâtouch me please. Now. Please?"
She does not, biting her lip instead. She slides her other hand up, massaging your breasts. Fondling them until the nipples grow hard like little pebbles.
You are easily the prettiest omega she's ever seen. And you're pretty like a goddess would be. Ironic, considering she's never cared for them before. Never been the religious type. Yet you must definitely be a goddess sent down to absolve Maki of her wickedness. A goddess that deserves to be laid down and touched, worshipped and sampled like the finest delicacy on Earth.
She feels like a half-crazy fanatic priestâexcept one with less holy intentions. She wants to lay you down on an alter and get your clothes off so she can feel your body coming alive beneath her hands. So you can squirm all cutely and bat her hands away, except your legs will spread and she will drink the God's ambrosia right from the source.
You whine out her name again, practically pornographic, rubbing and grinding against her for friction. It isn't enough for you, and Maki's tongue pokes against the inside of her cheek to keep from teasing you mercilessly.
"Maybe you were just pretending to be a good girl," She hears herself breathe out. Her hand slides inside your shorts again, this time tracing the lips of your cunt through your panties with her finger, green eyes trained on your face. "With your sugar scent, trying to trap and ensnare an alpha like me. Of course it would have to be me. No other alpha could handle you, because they don't know what you need. How to treat you. But I do, don't I?"
"Yes. Yes, Makiâ" You whine again, sounding delicately frustrated. Like Maki not touching your cunt when you want it is somehow the end of the world. "Touch me now, want you to touch me"
Who is she to keep you waiting? Besides, you've always been terrible at this part, the dirty talking. You get all bashful and clammy, face and neck heating upâbarely being able to hold her gaze. Or, you end up too fucked out to function right, just whining for more, more, more.
But Maki loves it. She fucking loves the whole shy, desperate thing. Because it's real. It's not some omega trying to cater to her fantasies. But it's you becoming tongue-tied and whiny because you want her to touch you and then more tongue-tied because your brain oozes out of your ears and you never want her to stop.
Maki reigns in her thoughts and gently nudges your panties to the side and firmly drags her fingers through the wet folds of your pussy, not even blinking as your thighs quake and your head tips back with a wavering little moan.
"You were just waiting for me to come for you, weren't you baby?" Maki finds herself thinking of Naoya, and how he was everything she has ever hated about Jujutsu, and the world. About how he will never get to see this or work his fingers against you slow and delicate to drive you up a wall. Thinks of all the alphas out there with wonderful omegas who probably don't even know how to make them cum outside of their heats.
"I was, I was-" You nod, ever so eager to please.
"Not your fault," Maki coos, and snakes her other hand back up to your tit. "I should've came for you sooner. I took too long, left my omega craving for something she couldn't even understand she wanted" Really, she should have known. "I should have realized it when we met. Should have just asked you to marry me when we were at the track, remember?"
"I remember," Comes the sweet, airy reply. "Marry me now; Maki. We can just get married now"
Maki has to yank you down, burying her face into your neck to mask her groan. God, that was so cute. Her entire face flushes with heat. She loves that about you. She's no good with wordsâsays very little or the first thing that comes to her mind. But you seem to pluck words out of thin air and whisk them into something incredibly beautiful and real.
No way in hell can she pass you up. The thought of another alpha getting to have what she does makes her want to snarl and bite.
"How do you want it?" Maki pants, and she meant to sound more confident. More in control. Cool and level-headed. But you undo her. Her fingers run up your side. "It's your wedding baby, how do you want it?"
You sigh, eyes closed, completely blissed out against her. "I want you to fuck me"
"Are you sure?" She inquires. You've been together for some time now, but she always asks. She trusts you and she knows that you wouldn't do something just because she likes it. But she can't help butâit could. Ugh. There she goes again, all ineloquent.
The last thing Maki ever wants to do is force you.
Because she likes it. Maybe too much. She doesn't like feeling like one of those alphasâdoesn't want to be reminded of the shitheads in the Zenin she grew up around. But there are very few things in the world that are better than being inside of you.
"'m sure" You coax, rolling off of her and onto your back, showing her the most vulnerable parts of yourself with ease. Then you giggle. "It's our wedding night, right? And I want my wife to take care of me"
Nevermind the fact that it's midmorning. Nevermind that there's no ring and there has been no ceremony and she hasn't even proposed. But that does it for her. My wife. She wasn't expecting it...to have this much of an effect. But it literally makes her mind spin and she feels all dizzy with it. The last name Zenin wouldn't be so awful if you had it, she thinks. Or would she rather have yours? Belong to a family, for once in her life?
No. It's obvious that you two would share them. Swap them like hoodies and shoes and everything else.
Mind made up on the matter, Maki surges down to kiss you (luckily, you say nothing on the fact that she had done nothing but stare at you for a handful of minutesâa part of her realizes you're used to it). She gets her leg between your thighs and lets you ride her thigh for a moment.
It's a sight. The wet patch on your panties, sliding back and forth in view, and then gone againâalways garnering her eye. The huffed, quiet little breathing. The fact that all she has to do is lie there and let you use her for her pleasure. That her body does something other than maim or kill.
But no. She can't let you finish like that. Her baby wants to get fucked, so Maki's going to fuck you. Still (like you hadn't asked for it), you whine when she moves her leg in order to strip you of your clothes.
She can't help it when she says, still shuddering around a lungful of air, "Be patient. My bride deserves something a little more than some filthy grinding" The word bride tentatively, unsureâwholly experimental in nature. Wants to see if you like it the same way she likes hearing the word wife come out of your lips. But there's still that edge to it, slightly playful; safe. Plausibly deniable. A joke, if you don'tâ
"Oh, fuck" You gasp, reedy and entire body squirming, seeking out friction from her body where there is none. "Maki, please"
Maki grind. Yeah. She had a feeling you'd like it.
Her hands quickly move onto the next task. Finding a pillow and shoving it underneath your hips and then pulling your sticky panties off, exposing your thighs. The smell of your wet cunt, ready to be bred, slaps her in the face, and she thinks she does a great job at self control by not sticking her face in your pussy to get a taste.
"Look at you," Maki murmurs, a hint of genuine wonder in her voice. You get all squirmy from the tone, caught between bashful and stupidly-fucking-horny, lashes kissing your cheeks. "Wow, you're so beautiful"
"Jeez, Makiâ" You grumble, though it sounds exasperated and embarrassed rather than annoyed. Not that it matters, because the rest of your slick remark is cut off by a whiny oh! when her fingers press inside.
Despite your needy protests, Maki doesn't rush through this. Prepping is always her favorite part and she kills for some good foreplay. Most alphas would want to rush through it and knot up, but not her. She likes the tension, likes dragging the moment all the way out; taught and thin. Sweat beads along her forehead but she ignores it, eyes practically unblinking as two fingers become three and hinting at maybe four.
It's the control, she thinks. Knowing that without a shadow of a doubt that she knows you're ready. That she can guide you along, make it real good. Of course you can beg and whine for her cock, that you can take it, but Maki likes to be sure. Even when your hands claw at the sheets and your thighs start shuddering like you're about to cum.
"Maki" You whine, sounding put-out that you aren't getting your way. Your hands stop trying to rip the sheets apart to instead tug her shirt off of her head. Not that you can, considering the fact that you've been fucked dumb by her fingers. You grow frustrated, lashes clumping with tears and then you grab her and yank her down so close her nose bumps awkwardly into your cheek. "Oh, god. Get on with it! Maki, please, get the fuck on with it!"
"So bossy" Maki tuts, but does like you've asked. Sitting up on her haunches to pull her shirt off, abs clenching as you run your fingers reverently over her muscles. "What happened to that sweet girl who says her please's and thank you's?"
"You married her" You say smartly, looping your arms around her neck like it's your first dance at prom. There's something that twinkled in your eyes, mischief or fondness, maybe. Makes her feel stupidly fluttery inside. "I'm your wife now, remember?"
Maki kisses the side of your face and guides her cock in. "How could I forget?" She murmurs and then hisses through her fangs when your syrupy cunt starts spasming around her cock, oversensitive. She tucks her face down into your neck, gnawing on your shoulder as gently as she can manage so that she doesn't do something stupid like bite.
Her hips churn inside, fucking in with deep thrusts, the sound of your moaning like the heavenly sound of a choir in her ears.
"How're so tight?" Maki grunts, planting one of her hands in the mattress and another gripping tight around your clammy, sweat-slick skin. Her ears pop, like she's way up high, or down in the deepest depths of the ocean. "Almostâalmost could believe it's your first time. Like you saved yourself for me. For our wedding night"
That pulls a loud, punched-out cry from your throat. You tip your head back, body quivering and shaking. Those big eyes slip shut and then open, and then shut again, accompanied by your startled, rabbit-fast breathing. God, you're so beautiful. Your arms are constantly moving, like they don't know exactly what to do with themselves, and your tits bounce every time Maki fucks back in. She makes a quick game of it, really clearing her head and fucking it how you like, practically drooling with her eyes focused entirely on your tits.
"Oh, oh, uh, uhn, MakâMaki"
"Don't worry, I won't tell" She murmurs. She shifts herself again, puts one of her hands on your stomach and pins you down because you keep trying to run from it. "I'll make sure everyone knows you're still that proper little omega. That you didn't let your bad alpha in this pussy before your wedding night"
The idea of marriage and a familyâthose things used to belong to a world where Maki knew she wasn't welcome. Something like that, a sense of belonging, a home. Things like that wasn't something someone like her was allowed to have.
Of course, all of that changed when she met you. Averse to omegas as she was, scared of their rejection and the isolation...she wanted you. The first time you met and you smiled at her, she wanted you. She likes to think that she sees the world like you do now, something that is capable of goodness and change.
Maki wants so much she feels sick with it sometimes. Like that part of her that says you don't get to have nice things is trying to rear its ugly face again. But she wants to parade you around under the noses of other sorcerers. Wants to show them a free omega, one not constricted to their pointless rules and expectations. She wants to kiss you in public, in front of the more traditional idiots who don't still believe that female alphas are an abomination or that women, regardless of second gender, shouldn't find happiness in one another.
She wants smaller things too. A kid too. Maybe twins. Maybe like what she and Mai could have been. Wants to watch you on the front porch with them, suckling at your breast. Or maybe both of you stressing about winter fevers or what color to paint to nursery or that awful bittersweet tragedy of that first day of school and all of the firsts that follow behind it. She wants, she wants.
Your arms surge up, pulling her down for a messy, spit-slick kiss. Maki's lower back twinges with discomfort at the position, but she's quick to readjust. Guides your leg around her waist, though it slips a few times before you realize what it is she wants from you. With your body securely in place, Maki finds that rhythm again. Fast, hard, like she's trying to catch lightning in a bottle all while your shuddery cries turn into wails.
I think you were made for me.
The thought is crass, cringe, and Maki doesn't really shes said it out loud until you're echoing herâmade for you, made just for you, Maki, pleasepleaseplease, fuck. But it's true. Maybe the two of you were made for one another. Stars plucked out of the sky and formed into humans bodies that would eventually find one another, no matter the distance between them.
There had been times when she had seen you, or startling moments in passing conversation when she had wondered, is any of this real? Is this a hallucination? Some sort of guardian angel? How was it possible for someone to be so perfect? You love Maki the way she's always wanted to be loved.
You need her, but that is not the limit of your love. More apt, you see her. All the scary things she doesn't want to admit. You dig your hands into the center of her being with your smile and say, Maki, none of this is ugly, this is just who you are. And your hands touch her soul maybeâ
"Maki"
"Yeah, yeah, I know" She grunts, shifting just so her cock nudges into that bundle of nerves that makes you cum with a strangled shout, your nails scratching long marks down her back. Her vision whites out for a second, fuck, so close. But she doesn't want to do too much, wraps her fingers around the base of her cock with the intention to pull out. But you latch onto her wrist with another cry.
"Don't," You slur, more dazed than anything else. "You canâinside. Wan' it inside. Please, alpha"
"Oh, fuck," Maki curses, hurtling right out of her own body, coursing through space and time itself. She curls over your body, doesn't let an inch of your skin go uncovered by her own. Your mouths are close. She'd kiss you if either of you could actually manage the coordination to do so.
Your body goes soft, pliant. Trusting. She rocks in with shallow thrusts, blindly chasing her orgasm, growling and rumbling into your sweaty skin. She's not going to last much longer, and she doesn'tâand Maki pictures a rubber band being pulled so taught it snapsâand then she cums inside of you.
She slumps against you, entirely spent. Gingerly, weakly, completely fucked out, your arms wrap around her, purring with the content. You're both too tired to do much of anything but catch your breath. But the words keep spinning inside of her head anyway, mine, mine, mine, mine.
"Do we even know enough people for a wedding, anyway?" You broach later, once you've both returned to the land of the living. Maki's between your legs with a wet rag, gently wiping you clean.
"Hm?"
"When we're kids, they all tell us," 'They' of course being your clans. Older omegas and the betas in charge of the lessons and schooling. "They tell us we're all going to have alphas who love us, and big, beautiful weddings. I went to my cousins wedding once, I was the flower girl, except I was a bit old. It was big. Lots of people"
Maki smiles despite herself. "Yeah?"
"Yeah" You say assertively, and then nod. "Who's gonna be your maid of honor? Kugisaki?"
"Absolutely not" She snorts, and flings the thing aside, crawling up to your body again. "We're supposed to actually make it alive to the wedding, you know? Kugisaki's bachelorette will kill us both."
"Maybe we can ask Nanami to give the speech" You mumble, cute and sleepy. "I think he would make a nice speech"
"And he can keep Gojo in check, more importantly"
That remark sends you into wild peals of laughter. Something, her heart, she thinks; warms. The pair of you go silent for a bit. Maki is thinking about how you really don't know anybody. Between the two of you there's your parents, and Gojo. That Itadori brat and her cousin Fushiguro. Nanami, Yuta. Sorcery does not exactly ensure a very rambunctious lifestyle and everyone truly important to her is dead.
She loses herself in another timeline. One where sorcerers and curses don't exist. Or at the very least, one where neither of your families are involved. Imagines herself as someone less broken. Maybe the two of you are childhood friends. Mayne you are high school sweethearts.
Maybe she has a scrapbook of her dream wedding, because she is a normal girl who doesn't have to fight curses. Maki's face scrunches in confusion. What would a normal girl even look like, and would she still recognize herself is she were? Would you?
"Maki?" You ask, voice soft and strong enough to break through the murkiness of her thoughts. She hums, noncommittal and turns her face so that she can kiss you lazily for a few seconds. "Where were you?"
"Nowhere important," Maki replies, and means it. She runs her hand down the middle of your back and bites back a sharp grin at the full body shudder the action rewards her with. She means it though.
gf!shoko ieiri and gf!yuki tsukumo love to spoil her younger girlfriend ê° à Ë. á”á”
You wandered through the bustling mall with Shoko on your left and Yuki on your right, their hands brushing against yours every few steps, your girlfriends had decided today was for spoiling you rotten.
âPick whatever you want, baby,â Shoko said, fingers lightly tracing your lower back as you stepped into the first boutique. âWe love seeing you in pretty things.â
Yuki grinned beside her. âAnd we really love taking them off you later.â
You bit your lip, already blushing as they guided you toward the racks. They were so different yet so perfectly in sync when it came to you. Shoko moved calmly, picking out soft sweaters and fitted dresses she thought would hug your body just right. Yuki was bolder, holding up short skirts and low-cut tops with a playful smirk.
You tried on a soft cream-colored sweater first. When you stepped out of the dressing room, both of them were waiting on the little couch outside.
Shokoâs eyes softened immediately. âCome here,â she murmured, reaching out to adjust the collar, her fingers grazing your collarbone. âYou look so fucking cute. It makes me want to keep you in my lap all day.â
Yuki leaned back, eyes dragging slowly down your frame. âSo cute, your boobs look amazing in it.â
You giggled, twisting a little in front of the mirror. âStop itâŠâ
But you didnât want them to stop. Not really.
They kept spoiling you. Dresses, tops, jeans that made your ass look incredible (Yukiâs words). Every time you came out, Shoko would pull you closer, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple or your shoulder while whispering how beautiful you were, Yuki was less subtle. When you tried on a tight black dress that clung to your curves, she let out a low whistle.
âFuck, princess. Bend over just a little for me? Yeah, like that. God, I need to fuck you in this later.â
Your face burned, but the giggle that escaped you was pure delight. Shoko snorted, rolling a cigarette between her fingers to smoke later. âYouâre making our girl nervous, Yuki.â
âAw nooo,â Yuki fake pouted, raising her hand for you to come between her legs. âDo I make you nervous, doll?â She batted her eyelashes, looking up at you as her hands rested low on your hips.
âN-no,â you answered, looking at her for one second before looking away.Â
âDonât lieâŠâ Shoko added with a little smirk.Â
You clicked your tongue in frustration, now nodding. âA little.â You put your thumb and index finger close to each other, showing Yuki how little she made you nervous.Â
âA pretty girl like you canât be shy.â Yuki shook her head, getting up and grabbing your hand. âCâmon, weâre taking it all and weâre going to the makeup store next.â
Shoko dabbed lipstick on your lips with careful fingers. âThis shade looks so pretty on you,â she said softly, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth. âMakes me want to kiss it all off.â
Yuki leaned in from the other side, close enough that her breath tickled your ear. âBet it leaves the prettiest marks on the skin.â
You squirmed in your seat, thighs pressing together, heart racing at how casually they said things like that in public. But they knew exactly how much you loved it.
The lingerie store was the most intense, you felt heat rising to your cheeks the second you stepped inside. âWe donât really have toââ
But they were already choosing sets for you to try on. âThis one,â Shoko said, holding a pink lace set up. âYouâll look like an angel in it. Our sweet little angel.â
Yuki immediately grabbed a deep red sheer babydoll. âThis one too. I bet your nipples are gonna show right through it.â
They ushered you into the large fitting room together, locking the door behind them. The space was intimate, just the three of you and the warm lighting. You slipped into the pink lace first, hands a little shaky with excitement. When you turned around, both of them went quiet for a second.
Shoko exhaled slowly, stepping closer. Her hands settled on your waist, thumbs stroking the bare skin above the panties. âLook at you⊠so pretty for us.â She kissed your neck gently, then your jaw. âWeâre so lucky youâre ours.â
Yukiâs eyes were darker, hungrier. She came up behind you, pressing against your back, hands sliding down to cup your ass. âJesus, baby. This little set is not lasting all night. Iâm gonna eat you out while youâre still wearing it, then fuck you nice and deep till youâre crying my name.â
âYuki!â You let out a soft, giggly whimper, hiding your burning face against Shokoâs shoulder.
Shoko tilted your chin up, kissing you slow and deep, her tongue teasing yours until your knees felt weak. When she pulled back, Yuki turned your head to claim your mouth too, her kiss hotter, more demanding, biting your bottom lip playfully.
âYouâre our good girl, right?â Shoko whispered against your ear.
You nodded fast. âThe best.â
âMm, I love to hear that. Donât you, Sho?â Yuki commented with a grin against your neck.Â
Shoko hummed in approval, already planning all the things theyâre going to do that night to you together, they love so much to team up against you.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
Synopsis: in which your roommate can only be woken up with your tongue inside her
Warning: cnc, somnophilia, consensual deal, perv!reader?, fem!reader, lesbianssss, cunnilingus, reference to thigh grinding, non curse au, college au, breast play, belly press technique, Shoko art by @_3aem on X, not proofread
Word Count: 2.7k
Roommate!Shoko who is a deep sleeper and has been known to miss classes because she just wonât get the fuck up. Her body does as it pleases; she wakes up on her own time, usually hours later, scratching her head and yawning.Â
âMorning, sexy.â She plops her entire body weight upon your back, then nuzzles the crook of your neck, and mumbles, âI missed my brunch plans with Dumb and Dumber again. Theyâre gonna be so mad. Youâll protect me, wonât you?â
âWhy canât you just wake up?â you ask in concern, pretending you canât feel her tits on your back.
âBecause youâre not in my arms,â she replies.Â
âHa. Ha.â
Roommate!Shoko pats your ass before she goes over to the counter to make coffee. âIâve always been like this, but I used to have my parents physically dragging me out of bed. Guess I need a special touch.â
Itâs gotten so bad that her friend, Gojo, has offered you a lot of money to get her out of the apartment on time.Â
And youâre not one to turn down money.
So you devised a plan to capitalise on this. You tried banging pots and pans, leaving ten alarms so that they blare all at once, shaking her, yelling right in her ear â nothing. She will not budge. She will not flinch.Â
She will not wake the hell up.
So itâs clear that by âspecialâ she doesnât mean violence, because youâve rained attacks on her with her pillow many times and it never did anything but tire you out.
Until, one day, you discovered, by complete accident, that thereâs a foolproof way to get her up and alert: orgasms.Â
It really was an accident.Â
You were trying to wrangle her out of bed, and changed so that when she did wake up, she could rush out of the apartment instead of wasting time trying to pick an outfit. It was thoughtful. Smart. Genius!Â
But she never makes anything easy for you.Â
Her body fought against your attempts, wanting to cling to the comfortable mattress and stay in the warm comforts of her blanket. In all the wriggling and fighting, your thigh ended up between hers, lodged firmly to the apex.Â
You realised too late what was happening; you still fought and fought, and was accidentally grinding your thigh to her pussy. It only became apparent to you what a horrible mistake you had made and what an unfortunate position you were in when her arms locked around your torso to keep you in place as she subconsciously humped your leg.Â
Then her body was spasming. She was moaning in your ear, leaving a warm wetness on your skin.Â
Within seconds, she was awake and confused as to what you were doing above her, all flustered and aghast.Â
You didnât want to tell her what happened, out of embarrassment. In fact, you vowed to take it to your grave. But the money dropped in your account, with a note that said, thx for working miracles, from The Strongest. And for the first time in months, maybe even years, you were able to splurge.Â
So, guilt-ridden and fully prepared to go to jail, you explained.Â
Roommate!Shoko hummed, arms and legs crossed. She eyed you through her long lashes before a devious smile pulled at her lips. âSo, you molested me in my sleep and woke me up.â
âI wouldnât put it like that,â you argued, cringing. âBut, yeah, I guess. I promise it was an accident though!â
She cradled your cheek and tenderly pressed a kiss to the other. âItâs alright. Iâm actually quite grateful we found a solution to my sleeping problem.â
A beat of silence passed.
âWhat?â
Casually, she strutted off and jumped on the sofa. She patted the seat next to her as she said, âYou want money, I want to wake up on time. Sounds pretty simple to me. Do what you gotta do, and we donât have to talk about it after. Itâll be our little secret.â
Things spiralled soon after.Â
A routine formed.Â
Every morning, varying the time based on what she had going on that day, you would sneak into her room, checking sheâs asleep.Â
Today is no different.
The door opens to your touch. You step in.
Roommate!Shoko lies over her covers, on her stomach, dressed in only her panties and a big T-shirt that belongs to Geto. You sigh. Thereâs 20 minutes before she has to get to her feet and wash up if she wants to make it on time for a lecture. A med student really cannot afford to be missing any classes and lectures, so you never understood why she doesnât take care of herself better.
Being the one to make sure she can make good on her promises and graduate with a degree has become your responsibility. The burden is heavy. Itâs not like you have nothing going on in your life.Â
At this point, however, when youâve earned thousands and are swimming in money because sheâs friends with a rich kid, you canât complain.Â
With a little groan, you flip her on her back.Â
Still nothing.
âJeez, Sho,â you mutter, âI could throw you down a flight of stairs and youâd still be snoring.â
You trail your fingers over her bare thigh, until they skim the hem of her grey Calvin Klein panties. Itâs one of your favourites. Maybe she knows that, maybe she doesnât. Whoâs to say if she gets herself into positions that pushes her gorgeous ass out on purpose, if she wears clothes she knows you canât get enough of?
Parting her legs for her, you hum as you press an indent on her clothed slit. It surprises you every time how squishy her pussy lips are. Her hips jolt. You easily find her clit, rubbing in gentle circles, just the way she likes at first.Â
Roommate!Shoko stirs.Â
You lie on your stomach on the bed, keeping her legs spread. The mattress drips. The bed frame creaks. Does she wake up?Â
Of course not.
Her thighs are smooth and soft; theyâre nice to lay on when youâre watching movies together. Theyâre even nicer to rest your cheek on when youâre up close and personal with her panties. Your nose nudges the cute little bump where her clit is, inhaling her sweet scent.
A wet spot has formed at the gusset â grey panties show it so easily. Giggling a little, you press a kiss to the darker spot. You lick the faint taste of her off your lips. Not even a second later, youâre suckling on the fabric. âMm, Sho. I can already taste you,â you tell her, even though she canât hear.
Roommate!Shoko releases a low moan. When you peek up, sheâs still asleep. Her lips are parted, her breathingâs steady, eyes closed. Although, you do spot a light dusting of pink on her cheeks and the way her two middle fingers, which rests upon her pillow, twitches.
All good signs.
With 15 minutes left to go, you decide to up the ante; pulling her panties to the side, youâre met with her puffy lips, which have grown shiny with her juices. The heat radiating has you growing dizzy.Â
Itâs silly really, how youâre more affected than her.
Thereâs always a mix of feelings inside you every time you do this: guilt because she has no idea exactly what you do to her, excitement because she has no idea that you take the initiative to suck on her clit, and disappointment because she has no idea and cannot return the favour.Â
After each time, you send her off or you leave first, youâre always left with an itch you have to scratch, on your own. Youâve wondered many times how nice it would be to have her between your legs, to feel her slender fingers in you and sinful mouth on you.Â
Of course, you know this is wrong, that this arrangement isnât healthy or ethical, but itâs for her own good. Itâs simply a bonus that this isnât much of a sacrifice to make because youâve always had a fat crush on your smart, witty, sexy as sin roommate, with her slender legs, wide hips, slutty waist, and huge tits.Â
Speaking ofâŠ
A hand creeps up. You grope one of her breasts over her shirt. Fat pudge between your fingers. Her nipple is hard, poking your palm. You run a blunt nail down the little bud. Her back arches. Like clockwork.Â
Roommate!Shoko loves to have her tits played, especially over the top, where the friction and the texture of her shirt adds a special kind of thrill.Â
Right on cue, a fresh wave of pussy juices oozes out of her, dripping down the plumpness of her ass. You collect it on the tip of your tongue, then bury it back inside her. Warm, gummy walls clench around the wet appendage. Above you, another moan resounds. It shoots straight through your body. Your own pussy reacts.
Even in her sleep sheâs so hot.Â
âDonât worry, Sho,â you chirp. âIâll have you awake soon.â
You lick a fat stripe up her slit.
Her juices are sweet and tangy, with a distinct taste of her. Itâs intoxicating. Her internal heat and your breath creates a humid mix that has your and her clit throbbing seemingly in tandem. You greedily lick as much of her as you can, making sure to flick her cute button on your way up.Â
âMmm.âÂ
Roommate!Shokoâs shuffling now, writhing slowly. Her breathingâs grown irregular, deeper, face more flushed. One leg wrestles itself from your grip. It throws itself over your shoulder, bending to push your head even closer. Soothing, you brush her heated flesh.
In her sleep, her pelvis rocks up. Itâs subconsciously grinding her whole pussy on your face, seeking the tip of your nose to satisfy her needy clit. Thatâs fine with you â you can shove your tongue inside her pussy and curl it against the rough texture near the entrance in the meantime.
Both of your hands are squeezing and massaging her tits, wanting to hear more sleepy moans and groans from her pretty lips. You could play with them for hours. Theyâre a work of wonder. Sheâs always pressing them against your back, your arms, in your face. Sometimes you think she does it on purpose. Perhaps you hope she does.
Lewd sounds are being wrung out by your mouth, which has become an expert in her body by now: squelches, slurrrrps, and the sticking of skin with the messiness of her wetness spreading itself all over your cheeks, chin, her inner thighs.
You look at the alarm clock on her bedside table.
4 minutes.Â
How time flies when youâre having fun.Â
âAlright, Sho. Youâre gonna need to cum for me,â you tell her, slapping the side of her tit to watch it bounce. She gasps.Â
Since she hasnât woken up yet, her bladderâs probably full. And everyone knows the best time to touch yourself is when you need to pee. Sheâs not an exception.Â
You press a hand down on her lower belly as you wrap your swollen lips around her clit. At the same time that you apply pressure, you suuuuckkk! it hard.
Roommate!Shokoâs hips jerk. They threaten to pull away from you. You hold her body down, mercilessly devouring her cunt with increasing hunger. The pulsing of her clit and the clenching of her insides have intensified. Sheâs close. Really close.
âN-no,â she breathes out. âNghhh, gonna -hah- gonnaâŠâ
Sheâs throwing her head side to side, eyes shut tight, and low moans turning into louder groans and whines.Â
Finally, her body tenses.Â
A ferocious climax tears right through her.Â
You hold her firmly as she cums, lapping incessantly at the juices overflowing, threatening to stain her bedsheets. Your hips hump the bed, overwhelmed by the tightness of her thighs which clamp around your bed, trying to suffocate you, undecided between wanting to push you away or pull you in.Â
Thereâs barely any stimulation. Itâs frustrating. Infuriating. Maddening. Maybe you should try scissoring with her. Would she mind?Â
The clock reads that thereâs only a minute to spare. Sloppy work.
Knowing that any second now, sheâll be waking up, you give her quick licks around to clean her up. Then you move her panties back into place. Right as the alarm goes off, youâre standing to your feet.
Roommate!Shokoâs eyes flutter open.Â
She grips a breast in one hand and her pussy with the other, wanting to calm the aches youâre sure as sheâs still feeling the tremors of pleasure in her system.
âMorning, Sho.â
Her eyes dart to you. She lets her body go. If sheâs embarrassed sheâs been caught grinding into the heel of her palm, she doesnât show it. Instead, she gives you a lazy smile. âMmm, hi, gorgeous. You know how I love when youâre the first thing I see in the mornings.â
Even freshly woken up, sheâs a flirt.Â
Taking her hand, you pull her to a sitting position. She runs a hand through her hair and exhales. âMan, whatever you did, you did really well. I feel so light. Mm, my pussyâs tingling.â
âWe donât talk about it, remember?â
Roommate!Shoko bites her lip, and, with a smirk, raises her arms in surrender. âOf course. My bad.â
Her hands grip your hips. You find your body being used as leverage so that she can get to her feet. Youâre chest to chest now. Her hard nipples scrape yours. You fight the urge to moan right in her face. Pelvis to pelvis too; you feel the heat of her pussy through your shorts. You wonder if she feels yours.
Tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, she purrs, âYou always take such good care of me, donât you, roomie?â
âAnything to afford rent,â you say.
With a yawn, she side steps you to head to her en-suite bathroom. âDonât I know it? Well, I appreciate you coming into my room everyday to make sure I wake up to my alarm. You go above and beyond. Youâre the best. I love you, babe.â
âDonât mention it.â
You fall to her bed. Partly because your knees are weak, because your pussyâs still throbbing and you need some friction, and partly to hide the wet spot thatâs formed on her sheet.Â
At the doorway, she pauses.Â
Turning her head to look at you, she gives a wry smile. Thatâs all the warning you get before sheâs shrugging her shirt and panties off. You get an eyeful of pale skin and curves you want to take a bite of.Â
âShoko!â
Roommate!Shoko looks at you with innocent, bambi eyes. âWhatâs wrong? Weâre both girls.â
âIt doesnât matter,â you splutter, looking away even though you really want to look. And occasionally looking back, as though you canât help it. âWhere are your manners?â
The girlâs shameless.
Truly, utterly shameless.
A normal person would be ashamed that they have to be eaten out by their roommate to wake up. A normal person wouldnât be undressing right in front of their roommate. But then again, a normal person wouldnât be eating their roommate out for money either.Â
She rolls her eyes. âMy manners?â she repeats. âWhere are yours?â
âWhatâre you talking about?â
Roommate!Shoko runs a finger across her lips and says, âGot a little something there.âÂ
Face flushing, you hurriedly wipe away her juices from your lips and chin. Oh god, that is humiliating. How long had that been there? Why didnât she say anything sooner?
She laughs. âYou know, youâre allowed to try different methods to wake me up, right?â
âOh.â A twinge of disappointment hits you. Frowning a little, you ask, âYou want me to go back to wafting smelling salts under your nose? That did seem to work for a little bit.â
Roommate!Shoko shakes her head. âNo, babes, Iâm saying you should let me have something sweet once in a while. Switch it up here and there, yâknow? Have some fun for yourself.â With a grin thatâs all sorts of bad for your heart rate, she adds, âI donât bite.â