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imnotkaizer · 3 days ago

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Paige Bueckers | Webcam Pornstar Reader

➟ paige being your anonymous client in one random night. who generously paid you a big amount after you fulfilled her nasty requests. a few weeks after. she recognized you at the same campus just as charming as you are in your webcam. now she was damn sure she was going to have a taste seeing how hot you are in personal.

smut. nudty exposure. paige pinning u for a few days. public sex. strap on. — this is kinda insane dk whats gotten on my mind

The fluorescent lights of your cramped UConn dorm room buzzed faintly casting a sterile glow over the clutter of textbooks, empty coffee mugs and a laptop that had seen better days.

It was late and the connecticut winter pressed against the window, a relentless chill seeping through the glass.

You were a sophomore at UConn majoring in biology, with dreams of medical school and a life beyond the constant grind of scraping by.

But dreams didnt pay the bills, your financial aid package had fallen short this semester, and your part-time job at the campus coffee shop barely covered textbooks. let alone rent or food.

Your parents couldnt help, your mom was a single parent working two jobs and your younger siblings needed her more than you did.

Pride kept you from asking for handouts but desperation was a powerful motivator.

You’d sold your old clothes skipped meals and even considered dropping out.

Then, one sleepless night you stumbled across a darker solution.

A classmate had mentioned it in passing half joking during a late night study session "You know, some girls make bank doing webcam stuff. It# not like you’re meeting anyone in person. Just a camera and a screen."

At the time you laughed it off, vut the idea lingered festering in the back of your mind as your bank account dwindled to single digits.

You researched it in secret heart pounding weighing the risks against the promise of quick cash.

It was anonymous you told yourself no one would ever know, you signed up for a platform under a pseudonym —SlyVixen— and set up your webcam, your dorm room carefully rearranged to hide any identifying details.

A cheap ring light and a borrowed tpp transformed you into someone else, The first night was terrifying your hands shaking as you logged on, but the tips rolled in faster than you’d expected.

Strangers paid to watch to chat to make requests, and you learned quickly how to play the part.

It wasnt about you it was about the fantasy, and the money—God the money—was enough to keep you afloat.

The faint hum of your laptop fan filled the quiet of your UConn dorm room a small sanctuary of chaos tucked away on the third floor of a residence hall.

You sat before your webcam your reflection in the laptops preview window both familiar and foreign.

SlyVixen stared back a persona crafted with meticulous care, the soft glow of a ring light you bought secondhand your lips painted a bold crimson, curved in a practiced smile, and a sweep of eyeliner accentuated your eyes, making them seem larger.

You wore a lace trimmed camisole in deep sapphire its delicate straps slipping just enough to suggest allure without crossing into vulnerability, paired with silk shorts that whispered against your skin as you shifted in your chair.

Behind you, a navy curtain draped across the wall concealed the telltale signs of your real life no UConn Huskies posters, no stray socks no evidence of the sophomore biology major who was one missed payment away from eviction.

The scent of lavender lingered in the air a candle flickering on your nightstand in a futile attempt to soothe the knot of anxiety in your chest.

You lit it an hour ago hoping its calming fragrance would steady your nerves but the weight of what you were about to do pressed harder.

Now your fingers hovered over the keyboard your pulse quickening as the platforms interface blinked with a new notification

"a private session request from AnonClient125."

The username was a sterile string of numbers and letters revealing nothing but the promise of payment steadied your resolves.

You adjusted the ring light its glow softening the edges of your face, and checked your setup one last time the curtain secure the wig in place your voice ready to slip into the sultry cadence you perfected.

With a deep breath you clicked “Accept” and the webcam feed flickered to life.

The clients screen was blank their camera disabled leaving only a black void where their face should have been.

A voice came through your headphones low and smooth with a faint connecticut accent that stirred a vague sense of familiarity, though you couldnt place it.

“Hey, vixen.” they said voice warm, carrying a hint of a smirk. “You look good, First night, huh?” The compliment hit softly their confidence catching you off guard.

You leaned closer slipping into vixen’s sultry purr though your heart hammered.

“Thanks, mystery guest” you said tilting your head “Your my first, so lets make it worth it. Whats on your mind?”

They chuckled a low, easy sound that loosened your nerves slightly “Aight, you already got me feelin’ some type of way” they said,voice dipping with a playful intensity.

“Start slow, Move for me, let me see you. But dont hold back I want you to get bold, make it feel real.”

The request was direct edging toward explicit their sparse slang adding a layer of boldness.

Your breath caught the line between performance and vulnerability thinning.

This was your first session and they were already pushing their tone coaxing yet commanding.

Part of you wanted to disconnect the intimacy too raw but the looming rent and their voice warm and persuasive held you, you could do this.

“You move fast, dont you?” you said voice teasing buying a moment to steady yourself.

You stood hips swaying to the faint beats from your phone, fingers grazing the camisoles straps.

“Alright, mystery you want bold? ive got you.” You moved deliberately letting one strap slip the camisole catching on your curves before sliding to your waist revealing just enough to tease.

Their breath hitched a soft “Damn, thats it” slipping through their voice rougher now.

You turned hips rolling hands tracing your sides your thighs keeping it fluid but controlled your heart pounding as their chat blinked—

Their breathing grew heavier, a faint rustle audible through the mic and then their voice lower, more strained. “your killin’ me” they said a quiet edge of need creeping in.

“Touch yourself slow, like your feelin’ it. im… im touchin’ myself too, want you to know what your doin’ to me.”

The admission hit like a spark vivid and raw Paige, AnonClient125, was fingering herself her voice betraying the rhythm of her movements subtle but unmistakable.

Your skin flushed the image flashing unbidden in your mind their words carrying a quiet hunger that made your pulse race.

You hesitated fingers hovering, the dorms chill clashing with the heat under your skin.

This was beyond what you prepped for, but the platforms counter ticked—$50 $75— and you saw rent, groceries, survival.

“Like this?” you murmured voice husky channeling vixen’s confidence while your mind reeled.

You sank into the chair legs parting slightly hands moving slow tracing your skin following their rhythm.

“You feelin’ me, huh? tell me how its hittin’ you.” Their breath caught a soft moan slipping through barely audible but electric.

“Damn, Vixen you got me fucked up" they said voice thick strained their words punctuated by the faint sound of their movements.

“Feels so good, you are makin’ me lose it. keep goin’ tell me you want this too.”

You leaned back hands roaming voice dropping to a whisper the performance edging into something realer.

“I’m feelin’ it.” you said eyes half-closed their voice and faint moans filling the void.

“Wish you could see how your gettin’ to me how im movin’ for you, you’d like that, wouldnt you?”

“Yeah, i would” they groaned voice breaking slightly their rhythm audible in the tightening of their words.

“Your too good, vixen, show me more, make it real.”

Your fingers moved bolder a gasp escaping their mouth

“Damn, thats perfect” and soft breathy sounds pushing you further.

The line blurred work, desire, fear, need their voice and actions a guide pulling you under.

The session hit thirty minutes your skin flushed breath uneven when they spoke again voice softer but still edged. “you're insane" they said almost reverent their breathing slowing a faint shudder in their voice suggesting theyd reached their peak.

A notification flashed a $500 tip staggering a lifeline.

Your eyes widened relief crashing through the haze.

“Oh, wow” you breathed mic still on, voice raw unguarded.

They laughed warm and easy.

“Worth every cent, you got me hooked, catch you next time aight?”

The call ended screen dark and you sat trembling, the candles flame flickering.

Their voice their explicit actions the $500 it lingered a spark you couldnt douse.

You closed the laptop heart racing knowing AnonClient125 had shifted something even if you werent ready to face it yet.

The campus was a study in contrasts the first tentative buds of spring pushing through frost dusted soil the air still sharp enough to sting your cheeks and the frenetic energy of midterm season clashing with the electric buzz of the upcoming women’s basketball games.

The Student Union was a hive of activity its glass walls fogged with the warmth of too many bodies the scent of burnt coffee and pizza grease hanging heavy in the air.

Students sprawled across tables laptops open highlighters bleeding neon across textbook pages while others queued at the smoothie bar their laughter cutting through the low hum of conversation.

Outside the quad was dusted with a thin layer of snow the kind that melted on contact but left the grass glistening under the pale midday sun.

You sat at a corner table in the Union your biology textbook splayed open to a chapter on cellular respiration though your eyes kept drifting to the notebook beside it, where you scribbled a budget in the margins

$600 rent, $150 textbooks, $50 groceries if you skipped lunch again.

The $500 tip from AnonClient125 three weeks ago had been a lifeline but it was already dwindling and the thought of logging back onto the webcam platform tonight sent a familiar knot of dread twisting in your stomach.

You wore a faded UConn sweatshirt its cuffs frayed from nervous picking.

Your study group was a loose collection of classmates their voices a steady backdrop as they debated enzyme kinetics.

You were half listening your pen tapping rhythmically against your notebook when a new voice cut through the noise low, confident, with that faint connecticut drawl that made your breath hitch.

“Mind if I join?” Paige Bueckers stood at the edge of your table, her gym bag slung over one shoulder a protein shake in her hand.

She was a vision of effortless charisma 6’0 of lean muscle her blonde hair pulled back in a bun a few strands escaping to frame her face.

Her blue eyes were sharp glinting with a mix of curiosity and amusement and she wore a black Huskies track jacket over leggings her sneakers scuffed from countless hours on the court.

The Union seemed to shift around her heads turning whispers rippling she was UConn’s golden girl a senior point guard whose every move was watched celebrated, dissected on X after each game.

Your classmate, yanna blinked up at her then grinned. “Paige Bueckers crashing our bio study sesh? Hell yeah pull up a chair.”

Paige’s smile was easy disarming but her eyes locked onto yours for a fraction too long a silent question lurking in their depths.

“Thanks” she said dropping her bag and sliding into the seat across from you her knee brushing yours under the table.

The contact was fleeting accidental or so you told yourself but it sent a spark through you your pen freezing mid tap. “name, right?” paige said leaning back in her chair her voice casual but deliberate like she was testing the weight of your name.

“Didn5 expect to see you here. Dont you have practice or something?” She shrugged sipping her shake her lips wrapping around the straw in a way that felt unfairly distracting.

"Coach gave us a breather before the game tomorrow. Figured I’d try to pass this bio elective before it kills me."

She tilted her head toward your textbook her braid slipping over her shoulder. “You look like you know your stuff. Mind helping a struggling athlete out?”

The table laughed the tension easing for everyone but you.

Sarah nudged you. “name is our resident genius. Shes got you, Paige.”

You managed a weak chuckle but your mind was racing. Paige Bueckers, UConns superstar, was sitting across from you her knee inches from yours her eyes flicking to you every few seconds like she was memorizing your face.

It was absurd she was just being friendly, right? But there was something in her attention a heat that made your skin prickle a familiarity that echoed the voice of AnonClient927,

though you dismissed the thought as paranoia.

There was no way. None. "Sure" you said clearing your throat flipping to a clean page in your notebook.

“What do you need help with?” Paige leaned forward her elbows on the table her gaze steady as she pointed to a diagram in your book.

“This whole ATP cycle thing, its like… i get it but i dont get it, explain it like im five?”

Her tone was playful but her focus was intense, her eyes never leaving yours as you started explaining your voice steadying as you fell into the rhythm of teaching.

You sketched a quick diagram talking through the stages of cellular respiration and she listened nodding asking questions that were surprisingly sharp for someone claiming to be lost.

Her hand brushed yours once reaching for the same pen and you pulled back instinctively your cheeks warming. “Sorry” she said her smile small but knowing like she noticed your reaction and filed it away.

“No worries” you mumbled focusing on the diagram though your pulse hadn’t quite settled.

The study session stretched on the group’s chatter fading into a comfortable hum.

Paige stayed longer than you expected her presence a constant pull on your attention.

She’d lean in to ask another question her voice low her shoulder brushing yours as she pointed to your notes.

Each touch each glance felt deliberate, like she was testing your boundaries gauging your response.

You tried to focus on the textbook on yanna’s jokes, on anything but the way laige’s laugh echoed. She was everywhere, her scent (clean sweat, citrus shampoo) mingling with the unions coffee haze, her laughter cutting through your defenses.

At one point, yanna left to grab smoothies, and the others drifted to a vending machine, leaving you and paige alone at the table.

The sudden quiet was electric the union’s noise fading to a distant buzz.

Paige leaned back stretching her arms above her head her jacket riding up to reveal a sliver of toned midriff.

Your eyes flicked away but not before she caught you looking.“So, name” she said her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper “whats your deal? Bio major, study group guru… what do you do for fun when you’re not saving my ass in class?”

The question was innocent but her tone wasnt there was a challenge in it, a nudge toward something personal.

You hesitated your fingers tightening around your pen. “Not much” you said aiming for nonchalance. “Study, work, the usual. You probably have more fun than I do, Miss All-American.”

She grinned undeterred her eyes narrowing slightly. “Maybe, but i bet you got some secrets. everyone does.”

The word secrets hung in the air heavy with implication and your heart skipped, your mind flashing to the webcam, She couldnt know, it was impossible.

“Just boring college stuff” you said your voice steadier than you felt. “No big mysteries here.”

“Mm-hmm” she said her smile skeptical but playful, she leaned forward her voice dropping lower. “You ever go to games? i could hook you up with tickets. front row if you want.”

The offer was casual but her eyes were anything but searching your face for a reaction.

You swallowed the idea of sitting courtside watching her dominate both thrilling and terrifying.

“Maybe” you said deflecting. “ill let you know.”

“Do that” she said her voice soft but firm. She stood as the others returned slinging her bag over her shoulder.

“Gotta run to film review but ill see you around, name, Thanks for the bio lesson.”

She flashed a final smile her gaze lingering then turned to leave.

You sat frozen your pen still clutched in your hand your heart pounding.

yanna slid back into her seat oblivious chattering about mango smoothies but you barely heard her.

Paige’s presence lingered like a phantom touch her words secrets, see you around echoing in your mind.

Over the next few days paige was everywhere, She’d nod at you in the hallway her grin bright but edged with something unspoken.

She’d pass you on the quad calling out “Yo, name, still waiting on that game RSVP!” with a laugh that made your stomach flip.

Once she joined your study group again, invited by yanna and spent the session stealing glance her foot nudging yours under the table her questions laced with double meanings.

Each interaction was a thread in a web she was weaving her flirtations subtle but relentless her confidence unshakable.

You tried to dismiss it. Paige was a star, a flirt by nature, her charm part of her public persona.

But the way she looked at you like she knew you like she saw through every brush of her hand chipped away at your certainty leaving you caught between fear and a traitorous pull toward her.

What you didnt know was that paige was playing a game of precision her every move calculated.

She confirmed her suspicion days ago during that first study session when your laugh a soft unguarded chuckle matched SlyVixen perfectly.

Your mannerisms the way you tilted your head when you explained something sealed it.

She wasnt sure how to bridge the gap without startling you so she leaned into the slow burn dropping hints watching you blush testing how far she could push.

The tension was intoxicating, each interaction fueling her desire—not just for a repeat of that night but for you, the real you, the girl who blushed under her gaze.

She wanted you in her orbit, and Paige Bueckers always got what she wanted.

The campus was a ghost town under the Friday night sky the stars half hidden by wisps of clouds the air thick with the damp chill of early.

The Student Union bar a squat brick building pulsing with bass and neon was the only sign of life its windows glowing with the chaos of post game revelry.

The Huskies had just crushed a GAME, 82-64, with Paige Bueckers dropping 32 points her name already trending on X as fans dissected every crossover and three-pointer.

The bar was packed students chugging cheap beer players basking in victory the DJ spinning trap beats that spilled into the street.

But you were outside leaning against the rough brick wall your breath fogging in the cold a half-empty soda in your hand.

Your friends had dragged you here hyped about the win but the noise and crowd had pushed you to the edge needing air needing quiet.

You wore a faded UConn hoodie, jeans and scuffed sneakers your beanie pulled low,blending into the shadows.

Paige’s recent flirtations her lingering glances, her foot nudging yours during study group, her cryptic “secrets” comment that had haunted you for days.

The bar’s door swung open, spilling laughter and music, and there she was— Paige, striding out like she owned the night.

Her blonde hair was loose damp from a post game shower, catching the streetlights glow.

She wore a black crop top under an open Huskies jacket low-slung joggers showing a sliver of toned abs, and fresh Nikes that gleamed under the neon.

Her gym bag was slung over one shoulder her posture relaxed but her eyes sharp scanning the street until they locked on you.

A grin spread across her face slow and dangerous like she’d been hunting and just found her mark.

“Yo, Y/N” she called her voice cutting through the night laced with that Connecticut drawl and a streetwise swagger that made your pulse jump.

“What you doin’ out here all lone? party too lit for you?”

You straightened your soda can cold against your palm, your heart kicking into overdrive. “Just needed some air” you said, aiming for casual but hearing the waver in your voice. “Congrats on the game, by the way.”

��Appreciate that” she said sauntering closer, her bag hitting the ground with a soft thud as she stopped a foot away.

Up close, she was overwhelming—6’0 of lean muscle, her citrus shampoo mixing with the bar’s smoky haze, her eyes blue and piercing, like they could see straight through your hoodie to the girl who danced for strangers.

“But real talk, you lookin’ kinda stressed. What’s good?”

“Nothin' ” you said too quickly, your fingers tightening around the can. “Just… midterms, you know?”

“Mm-hmm” she said, her grin fading into something sharper, more knowing.

She stepped closer, her sneakers scuffing the pavement, her body radiating heat in the cold.

“You sure? ‘Cause i been seein’ you around, name, and you actin’ like you got some heavy shit on your mind.”

Your stomach dropped, the word *shit* landing like a warning shot.

She was so close now, her jacket brushing your arm, her gaze pinning you against the wall.

“I’m fine” you said, but your voice cracked, betraying you. “Why you care, anyway?”

Paige laughed low and rough, leaning one hand against the brick beside your head, her body caging you in without touching.

“Oh, i care” she said, her voice dropping to a husky whisper, thick with slang and intent.

“Been thinkin’ ‘bout you, name. Ever since that night, three weeks back. *SlyVixen*. That was you, right?”

The world tilted, your breath freezing in your chest.

The soda can slipped from your hand hitting the pavement with a dull clank, fizzing into the dirt.

“What?” you choked out, your voice barely audible, your mind screaming *no, no, no* “I don’t—Paige, you got the wrong person.”

“Nah, I ain’t got shit wrong” she said, her grin wolfish, her eyes glinting with certainty.

“That laugh, the way you move, that lil’ head tilt when you talk? I clocked it the second i bumped into you. Paid five hundo to watch you, and damn, it was worth every dime. But seein’ you now, all real and shit? Fuck, you finer in person.”

Panic surged hot and suffocating, but her words—*finer in person*—lit a spark you couldn’t douse, even as you scrambled for denial.

“Paige, Im not—you’re crazy” you stammered, pressing back against the brick, its cold bite grounding you. “I don’t do that stuff.”

“Stop playin’” she said, her voice softer now, but still laced with that thug edge, her free hand brushing your hip, light but deliberate.

“I ain’t here to snitch or judge. Im here ‘cause I can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout you. That night, you had me fucked up, name. And now I want the real thing.”

Before you could protest, she closed the gap, her lips crashing into yours with a hunger that stole your breath.

The kiss was raw, urgent, her mouth hot and demanding, tasting faintly of mint and victory.

You froze for a split second, your brain screaming *run*, but your body betrayed you melting into her, your hands gripping her jacket as you kissed her back, hard.

The bar’s bass thumped in the distance, but the world narrowed to her—her heat, her hands, the brick scraping your back.

She pulled back, just enough to speak, her lips brushing yours, her breath ragged. “Fuck, you taste better than i imagined” she murmured, her voice all grit and want, her hand sliding to your waist, pinning you against the wall. “You gonna keep lyin’ or you gonna let me have you?”

“Paige” you gasped, your hands pushing at her chest, but there was no strength behind it, your body already arching into her touch. “This is—we can’t—”

“We can” she cut you off, her eyes blazing, her hand slipping under your hoodie, her fingers cold against your stomach, making you shiver. “Ain’t nobody out here. Just you and me, name. Let me show you what i been dyin’ to do.”

Her fingers moved lower, deft and confident, unbuttoning your jeans with a flick, slipping beneath the fabric to find you, her touch bold but precise, like she was calling a play on the court.

You gasped, your head tipping back against the brick, your hands clutching her shoulders as she worked you, her fingers curling with a rhythm that had you trembling, already teetering on the edge.

“Damn, you wet as fuck” she whispered her lips grazing your ear, her voice dripping with thug swagger.

“I bet no one else can make you feel this way. Not them other clients, not nobody. Just me.”

“Just you” you managed, your voice breaking, your nails digging into her jacket as her fingers pushed you higher, her touch relentless but controlled, drawing out every gasp, every shudder.

She was right—no one had ever unraveled you like this, not on the platform, not in the fleeting hookups of your past. It was her, all her, and the realization hit like a wave.

She pulled back just as you were about to break, her grin wicked, her eyes dark with intent. “Hold up, we ain’t done” she said, her voice low and rough, her hand reaching into her gym bag.

You caught a glimpse of what she pulled out a strap, sleek and familiar to her, like an extension of her confidence and your breath hitched, desire drowning out the last of your panic.

She adjusted it with practiced ease, her joggers low, her body pressing closer, pinning you against the wall.

“Paige, we’re outside” you whispered, but it was half hearted, your body already moving to meet her, your hands tugging at her waistband.

“Ain’t nobody seein’ shit” she said, her hands gripping your hips as she lifted you slightly, your jeans sliding lower. “You mine right now, name. Say it.”

“Yours” you breathed, and that was all she needed.

She entered you with a slow, deep thrust, the sensation drawing a moan from your lips, your back scraping the brick as you clung to her.

Her rhythm was deliberate at first, each movement precise, her lips brushing your neck, your jaw, whispering

“Fuck, you feel so good” her voice raw with need.

Then she quickened, her thrusts harder, more urgent, her hands tight on your hips, her body claiming yours in the shadows.

“I bet no one else can make you feel this way” she growled, her lips against your ear, her voice thick with possession, her thrusts relentless now, pushing you past the edge into something overwhelming, your body shaking as pleasure crashed through you. “Tell me, name. Who got you like this?”

“You” you gasped, your voice a cry, your hands tangled in her hair, pulling her closer as she drove you higher, her own breath hitching as she felt you unravel. “Only you, Paige.”

She groaned, low and rough, her thrusts slowing but not stopping drawing out every aftershock until you were trembling, oversensitive, your body pressed against hers.

When she finally stilled, her forehead rested against yours, her breath hot and ragged, her hands softening on your hips.

“Damn,” she whispered, her voice softer now, almost tender.“You got me fucked up, name.”

You laughed weakly, your chest heaving, the cold air sharp against your flushed skin. “You’re the one who started this” you said, your voice shaky but warm, your hands still clutching her jacket.

She grinned, pulling back to look at you, her eyes softer now, searching. “Yeah, and I ain’t sorry” she said, her voice low, her thumb brushing your cheek. “you know, you don’t gotta keep doin’ that webcam shit. Not if it’s killin’ you. I… I could help, you know. Or we figure it out.”

You blinked surprised by the sincerity, your heart twisting with something new—hope, maybe, or trust. “Paige, you don’t even know me” you said, but your voice was gentle, testing.

“I know enough” she said, her grin small but real, her hand lingering on your waist. “And I wanna know more. If you down.”

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malavera · 8 months ago

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Peaches: “Will you forgive me... Daddy?” (18+) — Logan Howlett

this is a part 2 of my series called Peaches, but it can be read as a standalone 😉 if you wish to check out the part 1 click here!

summary: It’s not like you can’t take care of yourself, no. Your dad just worries a lot so he asks for your friendly old man neighbor to look after you while he’s gone on his business trip. But is that all?

warning: SMUT! MDNI. a little bit fluff, ddlg dynamic, bratty!reader, dom!logan, oral M receiving, throatfucking

taglist: @wcndercore @peachyystuff @kholdkill @narjuko @the-occasional-artist1125 @robynanthonystark @suchasweetieee @jensojkaobecna @explainthisaetheists @currentlyquestioningexistence @cathers-world @seasonofthenerd @thinkinonsense comment if you'd like to be tagged for the next part 😉

The peach-colored bath bomb hisses as it plunges into the warm water, sending ripples through the surface. It fizzes and dissolves, releasing a cloud of sweet fragrance that wraps around the room like a soft, intoxicating embrace. You inhale deeply, the scent pulling you back to a moment not so long ago. As the steam rises, you let the bathrobe slip from your shoulders, but hesitate. The water beckons, promising comfort and warmth, yet something in you resists. His scent still clings to your skin—a haunting reminder of a presence now gone. The thought of washing it away feels like surrendering the last trace of him, and for a moment, you stand there, torn between the allure of the soothing bath and the ache of holding on to what remains.

But in the end, the warmth proves too inviting, and you let yourself slip into the bath. The water envelops you, pulling you into its embrace as your mind replays the scene, vivid and haunting. You can almost see him again, the way he casually brought his fingers to his lips, licking the last remnants of you with a slow, deliberate ease. He didn’t say a word, but that smirk—so confident, so sure—spoke volumes. It was a silent claim, a parting message that lingered as he turned to leave, leaving you with nothing but the fading echo of his presence and the water that now seems too gentle, too cleansing, against the memory you wish to keep.

Time has slipped away, and now, two weeks have passed since that moment. It feels like a distant dream, yet the memory remains sharp, refusing to fade. You’ve been avoiding Logan ever since, even though that’s not what he wants from you. He’s the opposite of what you’ve intended to do; he wants you to embrace it. He wants you to embrace your desire.

But like what you are, you’re too much of a pussy to face your own desire. Even though it aches for his touch.

Now, with your dad away on a business trip, you couldn't be more thrilled. The house is yours, a rare freedom that has your mind buzzing with possibilities. You imagine nights without curfew, slipping out into the night without a care, and not having to worry about getting caught. But your excitement gets the best of you, and you celebrate too soon. Just when you think you’ve outsmarted the system, your dad’s words come crashing down like a cold wave, his rules and expectations finding a way to reach you even when he’s miles away, dampening the thrill before it even begins,

“I��ve asked Logan to watch over you here and there. So, I won’t worry much. He’ll update me on whatever it is you do so, behave.”

Fun right?

And here you are, sitting in the diner’s booth with your girlfriends, the buzz of conversation and the smell of greasy food filling the air. They’re all planning to head to a party after this, and when they mention the time—10 PM—your stomach flips. That’s your curfew, the invisible line you’ve never dared to cross. But tonight, the temptation is too strong, and you’re about to go for it, to finally break the rules. Just as you’re about to give in, the door chimes, and there he is—Logan, strolling into the diner like he owns the place. He walks right up to you, his presence sending a jolt through your resolve, and without a word, he makes it clear he’s not letting you out of his sight tonight. As he takes your hand, you know the party isn’t in the cards anymore—Logan’s about to take you on a different kind of ride.

Crossing your arms tightly over your chest, you pout, your bottom lip jutting out as you stubbornly refuse to look straight ahead. “I’m not a seventeen-year-old,” you mutter under your breath, the words more for yourself than for him.

“But you act like one,” Logan shoots back with a tsk, not missing a beat.

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “I’m twenty-three, for god’s sake. Both of you need to stop treating me like a baby!” You huff, finally turning to face him. He’s driving with effortless ease, one hand on the steering wheel, the other casually resting against the door. The simple, relaxed way he holds himself only makes him look even more frustratingly attractive. You hate that he’s right, but more than that, you hate that you can’t stop noticing just how good he looks when he’s in control.

Stubborn as ever, you dig in, determined not to let him win this round. You reminded yourself of why you were fuming in the first place, the anger bubbling back to the surface. “Stop the truck,” you demanded, your voice edged with frustration.

Logan’s head snapped towards you, surprise flashing in his eyes. “What?”

“I said stop the truck, or I’ll jump, and I won’t hesitate. Do not test me right now, I swear, Logan,” you grumbled, your tone leaving no room for doubt. Your sudden tantrum catches him off guard, and for a moment, the confident Logan you’re used to falters. The sweet little peach he thought he knew is nowhere to be found, replaced by someone fierce and unpredictable.

It intrigues him. Something in your defiance pulls at him, piquing his curiosity. He’s not sure what you’re planning, but he wants to find out. Without a word, he slows the car, watching you closely, waiting to see what you’ll do next.

The tension in the car was thick, suffocating even, as you glared at Logan, fury burning in your eyes. The moment felt like it could explode any second, and you weren’t willing to sit there another minute. With a sharp huff, you pushed the door open and stormed out of the car, the cool night air hitting your face like a slap.

“Peach!” Logan’s voice boomed, filled with an urgency that barely masked his frustration. He fumbled with his seatbelt, the metal buckle clinking violently before he freed himself and followed you out. The car door slammed behind him, reverberating in the stillness. “What the hell are you doing?!”

You didn’t stop. “I’m going to my friends, and you can’t stop me!” Your voice was a defiant shout, each word a hammer striking the fragile foundation of whatever was left between you two. Your footsteps were quick, determined to leave him and everything he represented behind.

Logan’s grunt was more animal than man, filled with a rawness that made your heart lurch. “Peach, I swear, get back in the fucking car!” His voice cracked through the night, a desperate command that echoed around you.

But you didn’t turn back. Not this time. “No! And stop calling me that, that’s not even my name!” You shot back, your words slicing through the tension like a blade, final and unyielding.

As you thought you’d finally put enough distance between yourself and his truck, something shifted beneath you—your feet were no longer pounding against the pavement. You shrieked in surprise, your arms flailing as you tried to break free. But before you could fully process what was happening, you were momentarily released, only for Logan to scoop you up again, this time slinging you over his shoulder with a grunt of determination.

"You're not going anywhere, not even in that dress," Logan growled, his voice rough and unwavering, sending a chill down your spine. You writhed in his grasp, pounding your fists against his broad back with all the force you could muster.

"Let me go! Please! Help, someone!" Your voice rang out, desperate and frantic, but the night offered no solace. The street was eerily quiet, not a single car in sight, no one to hear your cries. The only response was the echo of your own voice and the steady, unyielding pace of Logan’s steps as he carried you back towards his truck.

Logan wasted no time strapping you into the passenger seat, his hands moving with a practiced efficiency that left no room for protest. The door slammed shut with a resounding thud, and before you could unbuckle yourself, he was already climbing into the driver’s seat. Your frustration bubbled over, and you flailed your arms, grunting and throwing a full-blown tantrum like a five-year-old denied their favorite toy.

But then Logan’s voice erupted, filling the car with a booming authority that silenced you instantly. “ENOUGH!” The word hung in the air, heavy and final. Your arms froze mid-motion, and you stared at him with your brows furrowed and lips pouting, the anger in your eyes now mixed with a hint of confusion.

Logan’s gaze softened just a fraction, but his tone remained firm as he continued, “I’m just doing what your dad wants me to do here, Peach. So help me God, if you wanna go hang out with your friends past curfew, fine, I’ll let you go. But not this one!” His voice was low, edged with a protectiveness that made your heart skip a beat. “I’m not letting you go out there to that fucking stupid party where you could probably get drugged or have alcohol shoved down your throat without your consent; no fucking way.”

The weight of his words settled over you, and for a moment, the car was filled with nothing but the sound of your heavy breathing, the tension between you both palpable.

Logan’s eyes flicked over to you, taking in the way your chest still heaved with heavy, frustrated breaths. He understood why. The anger bubbling inside you wasn’t just about this moment—it was about the bigger picture, the suffocating sense of disappointment that came from a reality that refused to bend to your desires. You craved freedom, the kind that seemed to come so easily to everyone else.

All you wanted was to be like the others out there, those who could breeze past curfew without a second thought, who laughed and danced through the night without anyone holding them back. Hell, they didn’t even have curfews anymore, not since they turned twenty-one. But here you were, feeling like the world was passing you by, like you were missing out on all the big, exhilarating experiences that came with being young and reckless.

You’d never touched alcohol, never gone to a party where the night stretched into the early hours, never done anything that could be described as recklessly fun. And it gnawed at you. The longing for that freedom, for the chance to let loose and live a little, was a weight on your chest, one that no amount of logic or concern from Logan could lift.

Logan watched you quietly, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he saw the storm brewing in your eyes, the conflict between the person you were and the person you wanted to be. He knew he couldn’t give you the freedom you craved, not in this moment. But he couldn’t ignore your pain, either.

Logan leaned over, his movements deliberate as he unbuckled your seatbelt. You watched him, confusion flickering in your eyes as the sharp edges of your anger began to soften. His gaze met yours, steady and calm, as he murmured, “C’mere.”

Before you could fully process what was happening, his hand found your thigh, firm yet gentle as he lifted you up and guided you to sit on his lap, sideways. The shift in position felt unexpected, your body tensing for a moment before you let yourself relax into the warmth of his embrace.

Logan’s strong arms wrapped around you, guiding your body to lean against his chest. He carefully positioned your head on his shoulder, his touch tender as if he knew exactly how to soothe the turmoil raging inside you. The steady rhythm of his breathing, the solid feel of his chest rising and falling beneath you, gradually eased the tension from your muscles.

In his arms, the world outside the car seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in the quiet, shared space. The anger and frustration still simmered, but now, in Logan’s embrace, it felt more manageable, less like a storm and more like a lingering cloud.

Logan's voice rumbled softly against your ear as he spoke, the firmness in his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’m taking you home, alright? Whether you like it or not, I don’t care. But if you want to go out with your girlfriends tomorrow night doing other things than PARTYING, you bet your ass I’m gonna lock you in the house myself. Deal?”

You didn’t respond immediately, the weight of his words settling in as you considered his offer. It wasn’t exactly what you wanted, but it was better than nothing. The compromise, though not ideal, felt like a small victory. So, without saying a word, you nodded your head against his shoulder, accepting his terms.

Logan seemed to take your silent agreement as enough, his arms tightening around you in a way that felt protective rather than restrictive. The frustration still lingered, but there was also a sense of relief in knowing that, at least for tonight, you didn’t have to keep fighting.

“Okay,” Logan murmured as he turned the key, the engine of the truck rumbling to life. You instinctively started to shift, ready to slide off his lap and back into the passenger seat, but his hand on your thigh halted your movement.

“Whoa, whoa, where are you going?” His voice held a teasing edge, but there was no mistaking the seriousness in his eyes as they locked onto yours.

“But, you’re about to dri—” you began, but Logan cut you off with a grunt.

“I don’t care,” he said, his gaze intense, the authority in his tone leaving no room for argument. “Make yourself comfortable and sit on my lap like a good girl, no more tantrum.”

The command sent a shiver down your spine, your breath catching in your throat as you met his stare. The tension from earlier was still there, but now it was mixed with something else, something that made your pulse quicken. His grip on your thigh was firm, but his touch was still gentle, almost reassuring.

Slowly, you settled back into his lap, your body leaning against his solid frame as the truck began to roll forward. There was a strange comfort in the way he held you, the familiar scent of him filling your senses. The fight had left you, replaced by a quiet acceptance, your earlier anger melting away as you rested your head against his shoulder.

The ride was wrapped in a comfortable silence, the kind that didn’t need to be filled with words. For some reason, being around Logan soothed you in a way that nothing else had for a long time. It was a feeling you’d longed for, a sense of security and warmth that you hadn’t realized how much you missed until now.

Even though you had your dad, it wasn’t the same. You were never really close with him. The glue that held your family together had always been your late mother, the one who bridged the gap between you and your father. But when she passed away from that illness when you were seventeen, everything changed. The dynamic between you and your dad became something different—just plain family.

He loved you, you knew that, but it was a love that felt distant, like an obligation rather than a connection. And you loved him back, but only just enough. There was a gap, a void left by your mother’s absence, that neither of you knew how to fill. You’d drifted apart, existing in the same space but not truly together.

But with Logan, it was different. Even in the quiet, even without saying a word, there was a comfort in his presence that made you feel like you weren’t so alone. The steady rhythm of his breathing, the warmth of his body against yours—it was like a balm to the aching loneliness you carried.

The warmth of your house greeted you as soon as you unlocked the front door, a comforting contrast to the cool night air outside. You stepped inside, the familiar scent of home wrapping around you like a blanket. With a tired sigh, you tossed the keys into the bowl on the console table, the clatter echoing in the quiet hallway. Without a word, you made your way upstairs, leaving Logan standing in the entryway, the silence between you stretching out once more.

Logan watched you disappear up the stairs, a heaviness settling over him. With a resigned sigh, he headed straight for the kitchen, his boots thudding softly against the hardwood floor. He grabbed a bottle of scotch from the cabinet, the glass container cold to the touch as he unscrewed the cap, pouring it down the glass.

Taking a generous sip, Logan flopped down onto your couch, the cushions sinking under his weight. The remote was within reach, and with a flick of his wrist, he turned on the TV. The soft glow of the screen filled the room, casting flickering shadows on the walls.

But even as the TV droned on in the background, Logan’s mind wasn’t on whatever was playing. He took another sip of his beer, letting the quiet comfort of your home settle around him, a stark contrast to the tension that had filled the night.

After slipping into more comfortable clothes, you hesitated at the top of the stairs, hoping that Logan was still there. The night had left you feeling unsettled, and the thought of him being gone added to the unease. Slowly, you made your way downstairs, the soft fabric of your clothes brushing against your skin, grounding you.

As you reached the living room, you cleared your throat, the sound breaking the stillness. Logan, who had been staring at the TV without really watching, turned his head towards you, his eyes meeting yours. There was a flicker of something in his gaze—concern, maybe relief—before he watched you walk towards him.

Without saying a word, you sat down on the couch beside him, the space between you feeling both intimate and vast. You looked at the glass of scotch in Logan’s hand, your curiosity piqued. “Can I try?” you asked, your voice soft but eager.

Logan glanced at the glass and then back at you. He simply handed it over without a word, his expression neutral. The amber liquid sloshed slightly as you took the glass from him. The warmth of the scotch felt foreign in your hand, but there was a sense of anticipation as you held it. Logan watched you silently, his gaze steady as you prepared to take your first sip.

You raised the glass to your lips, the rich, amber liquid catching the light. With a deep breath, you took your first sip. The taste was immediately intriguing—complex and smoky, with a hint of sweetness that lingered pleasantly on your tongue. It was unlike anything you’d ever had before, a unique blend of flavors that seemed to dance across your palate.

The warmth of the scotch spread from your mouth down your throat, a slow burn that settled into a comforting glow. You took another sip, savoring the taste, letting the sensation wash over you. The flavor was bold and sophisticated, a little bit of adventure in a glass.

“You like it?” Logan asked, raising one eyebrow and giving you a half-smile. His gaze was curious as he watched you take in the experience.

You folded your lips, glancing down at the glass before meeting his eyes again and nodding. “It’s not bad,” you admitted, a hint of a smile playing on your lips.

Logan chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Would you trade your life for this or for your peach soda?” he joked.

You giggled, the scotch giving you a carefree lightness. “Peach soda for the win,” you declared with a playful grin. But then, without hesitation, you raised the glass to your lips and chugged the rest of the liquor in one swift motion.

Logan watched with a mixture of amusement and surprise. “Says one who’d trade her life for the peach soda,” he remarked with a scoff, shaking his head in mock disbelief.

He grabbed the empty glass from your hand and, with a quick motion, poured another round for himself. The scotch swirled in the glass as he settled back onto the couch, the warmth of the liquor evident in his relaxed demeanor.

“I want one again,” you murmured, a pout forming on your lips as you looked at the empty glass.

Logan sighed, giving in with a resigned smile. “Fine, here,” he said, pouring another generous measure of scotch into the glass. But instead of reaching for the glass, you snatched the bottle right from his hand.

“Wha—hey whoa, Peach,” Logan started, surprised.

“I have my limits, don’t worry,” you replied with a mischievous glint in your eye.

Logan frowned, his hand reaching for the bottle. “Right, considering this is your first time and you like this more than your peach soda, I think that’s not a great idea. Come on, give me the bottle.”

With a shriek of playful defiance, you pushed yourself off the couch and stood in front of him, waving the bottle mockingly. “Watch me,” you smirked, lifting the bottle to your lips.

You took a generous sip, the rich warmth of the scotch flowing smoothly down your throat. Logan watched, amused. The newfound confidence in your actions only seemed to grow with each sip, the scotch emboldening you in ways you hadn’t anticipated.

As the minutes ticked by, you began to feel a subtle shift within you. The warmth from the scotch seemed to spread through your body, making you feel more alive, more fearless. It was as if the world outside had softened, the edges of your worries and reservations blurring into the background.

“Hmmm,” you hummed contentedly, taking a step closer to where Logan sat. With a playful glint in your eye, you placed the bottle on the coffee table and then gracefully straddled his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Logan’s expression shifted subtly, his initial concern giving way to something more intimate. His eyes softened, the playful warmth of the moment casting a new light on his face. He adjusted his position slightly to accommodate you, his hands resting gently on your hips.

"I'm sorry for the way I acted tonight," you murmured, looking down to his lips before gazing up to his eyes. "Will you forgive me... Daddy?"

Logan looks at you surprised, he couldn't believe what he just heard. It's something he has never heard anyone addressed him with that before. The tension wasn't comforting it was rather more, sensual. Logan slowly leans forward inching closer to your face, he looks down to your lips before murmuring, "What did you just call me?"

You giggled, "Daddy." You repeated. "You're more like a dad to me than my dad ever was," you giggled. "The only difference is, I wanna fuck you." The scotch is now talking. "You were right, all those times you've caught me fucking myself with my fingers through my window, I wanted you to watch me," You stare at him with doe eyes. "And thank fuck, you watched me."

Logan groaned from listening to you talk like that. His hands gripping your hips, throwing his head back against the cushion. "You promised me you wanted me to feel your cock," you pouted, starting to move your hips, rubbing your clothed cunt against his denim jeans. Inching your face close to him, you whispered against his lips, "So give me your cock, Daddy."

Logan grumbled something under his breath, his gaze darkening as the playful tension between you ignited into something more intense. Without warning, his hand moved to your throat, not with force but with a possessive firmness that sent a shiver down your spine. In one swift motion, he pulled you in, crashing his lips against yours.

The kiss was searing, filled with the passion that had been simmering between you all night. His lips moved against yours with an urgency that took your breath away, the earlier tenderness giving way to something more primal. The heat of the moment enveloped you both, and you felt your heart race as the kiss deepened, becoming more feral and uncontrolled.

Logan’s hands tightened around your waist, pulling you closer as his mouth claimed yours with a hunger that made your head spin. The kiss became sloppy, desperate even, as the two of you lost yourselves in the intensity of the connection. You struggled to keep up, your breath hitching as you tried to match his pace, but it was overwhelming, intoxicating. The world around you seemed to blur, your senses consumed by the taste of him, the feel of his hands on your body, and the way his lips demanded everything from you.

You never stopped grinding your hips against his clothed cock as both of your lips were dancing with each other. The bulge in his jeans kept growing bigger and bigger until he decided it's finally enough to torture him; he broke the kiss and lift you up before his hands went to undo his jeans.

You watched the way he swiftly pulling down his jeans along with his boxers, his cock slapped against his abdomen. Shit, you thought. He's nowhere near small, he's big and fat. You wonder if it's going to fit in your small cunt and your small mouth. Logan noticed your demeanor has changed as he smirked to himself.

"Don't worry, Peach. I'll show you how." You looked at him confused. "You're gonna put my cock in your mouth first," You inhaled sharply before nodding your head, Logan smiled at you, happy that you're obeying to what he wants you to do. "Good girl, get on your knees."

Logan walked you through it, by telling you to grab his cock with both hands. "Give it a kiss." He urged, nudging his chin cockily. You hesitatingly kissed the raging red tip of his cock that has his already pre-cum leaking from the tiny slit. "Lick it, peach." He commanded, you obeyed. Dragging your warm tongue out from your mouth and made contact with the skin.

Logan watching you so innocently making out with his tip, makes his heart beat faster, eager to slide his cock down your throat and fuck your stupidly innocent face. "Thaaaat's good, peach. Put 'em all in your mouth." Before you do that, you fixated your gaze on Logan before moving away to inch your face close to his heavy balls.

You decided to improvise and see if he'd like that, Logan watches you intensely and groaned as you drag your tongue from the bottom of his cock upwards to meet his tip before putting him all in your mouth. Hollowing your cheeks, and teasingly rolled your eyes close to show that you're enjoying it so much. And it did sent Logan to heaven, watching his little peach enjoy sucking his girth.

"You like my cock, peaches? .... Yeah? .... Well come on, put them all in ya." Logan muttered as he raised his hip slowly upward, pushing his cock into your mouth further to reach your throat. When you gagged, Logan moaned. You thought that was a good sign, especially when you couldn't control your saliva as it drips down to his pubic hair and all. "Fffuck." Logan cursed watching you bob your head and up down his cock.

"Feels s'good.. Peach, god." Logan rolled his eyes and lean his head back, his hand rest on top of your head, fisting your hair. He grunted, "'want more." He murmured under his breath before he decided to take control. He bobbed your head up and down, increasing the speed while also thrusting his hips upward, fucking your throat.

"Fuck yeah, you better think twice before you talk back to me like that in the car." Logan grunted, watching you struggle to breathe, your eyes getting teary and choked on his cock. Logan laughs rather maniacally, watching you struggle turns him on even more.

"You wanna feel how it feels like to have a warm cum slides down your throat, peaches?" Your eyes widened. "Yeah.. I'll show you. 'M gonna cum soon, Oh.. So good, peach." Logan moaned, eyebrows scrunched together with his eyes closed.

Placing your palm on his thighs, you tried to at least breathe a little. You didn't want to pull away as you don't want you disappoint him. You can feel Logan's tip twitch in your mouth, you take it he's about to cum soon.

Without warning, Logan let out the loudest moan ever, spilling his warm cum down your throat. His hips stuttered a little, giving you one final thrust to make sure he emptied everything in your mouth. And you gladly took them all. As Logan pulls his cock out from your mouth, he watched you swallow his everything down your throat as he smirked in proud.

You watched him with your famous doe-eyes when you want something but Logan just laughed at you, mocking.

"You think after you pulled that stunt on the road you deserve my cock in your pussy? Hell fucking no, peach. At least not tonight, now get to bed."

thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it! if you love my writing feel free to check my other works here

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#Malavera #Logan and peach #Logan howlett smut #logan howlett #wolverine #wolverine smut #logan howlett x femalereader #logan howlett x you #logan x reader #logan howlett x reader #logan james howlett #james howlett #xmen wolverine #hugh jackman #hugh jackman smut

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javierfashionbazar · 2 years ago

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ALLURE HOMME SPORT COLOGNE🧔‍♂️CHUPATE ESA 🍭PEPE LUIS

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malleleothreesome · 1 year ago

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Azul Ashengrotto x afab Reader - Aphrodisiac + Breeding

💜 summary: After an alchemy accident, you and Azul end up covered in an aphrodisiac potion ༶༶༶ 💜 warnings: afab reader, smut, LOTS OF BREEDING KINK, pregnancy mention, porn with plot??? ༶༶༶ 💜 word count: 8.4k words I DON'T KNOW HOW THIS HAPPENED ༶༶༶ 💜 song: Vapor - 5 Seconds of Summer "I wanna feel you in my veins I want to breathe you in like a vapor I want to be the one you remember I want to feel your love like the weather, all over me" ༶༶༶ 💜 inspired by: this ask thank you! ♡✧*:･ﾟ

As a magicless human, Alchemy had always been your favorite class at Night Raven College. Despite lacking an innate aptitude for spell-casting, mixing and crafting potions was an artform that didn't require magic in order to bring spectacular effects into the world. Alchemy classes provided a refuge—a safe space with no barrier for entry where you could excel instead of feeling singled out for being an oddity in a sea of talented mages. You relished in the opportunity to learn about new components and elements, excitedly observing as volatile chemicals bubbled in heated pots to produce glowing, glittery pastes.

Much to your suspicion, Azul had always been particularly enthused to help you with potions, boasting how he was the most adept in the class due to his academic proficiencies, and that he was certain you'd find success with his aid. He took special interest in mentoring you, watching your delicate, nimble movements as you worked, walking you through procedures and detailed steps, and speaking knowledgeably about the ingredients in a tone that oozed expertise. His tutelage had helped you reach impressive grades on even the most challenging assignments. It wasn’t long before you found yourself spellbound by his charming intellect, deceivingly sweet demeanor, and the addictively intense gaze of his unique blue eyes.

There was always a subtle mischief hidden behind the smiling eyes and the easy charisma that suggested an ulterior motive lurking beneath his silver-tongue. Based on your observations of his interactions with other students, you assumed this was a ploy in hopes that if you had taste of the sweet, intoxicating elixir of power and success, you'd become desperate for more of his help, consequentially making you subservient and open to the idea of contracting yourself to him. In defiance of your paranoia that his motivations are not entirely altruistic, you did always feel an odd prickle in the air when he stood right behind you to monitor your actions. That sensation, a fiery buzz that hummed in your lower abdomen, always gave your heart flutters and kept you on edge as Azul's calm breaths ghosted against your hair and sent ripples of warm pleasure tingling through you. Your breath hitched in your throat as his large, gloved palms gently guided you through your motions, brushing over the bare skin on your knuckles or arms, leaving electric jolts where you felt his warmth. He smelled crisp like ocean breeze, an inviting fragrance that enveloped your mind and wrenched you out of reality and into his heady fantasy—a scene in which all you can taste are the thick, sweet notes of his dark intentions, and all you could do was choke on his cloying, dominating allure. He didn't ask permission to touch you or indicate an appropriate method to teach—no, his hands simply snaked around your waist and ran along your curves, slowly learning the feeling of your soft flesh through his gloves. Each time, you couldn't help but sink a little closer to his chest, instinctively chasing the seductive ambience radiating off of him, drowning in his captivating presence as though he was the tide pulling you under. There was no denying it—you wanted more of him.

Today's lab was no different, the air was tense and thick with charged attraction, filled with sexual tension so palpable it could be cut with a knife. The assignment was to experimentally combine various liquids, mixing and adjusting for better consistency, until you found a formula to concoct a viable, bountiful healing potion that would greatly ease the effects of injury. This assignment was a notoriously difficult, energy-draining procedure that required extreme vigilance to avoid an adverse chemical reaction that would result in a completely different type of potion, although Crewel didn’t elaborate on the exact details. After carefully pouring two compounds—one a milky white, and the other a vivid magenta—into a tall, cylindrical flask, Azul cautiously peered over your shoulder to check your concoction's progress as you stirred them. With one arm outstretched against the table to secure a good vantage point, he rested his other on your waist and leaned in closer as he studied the bubbling pink mixture. After adding an infusion of ground powder, a burst of sparkles clouded the interior of the flask, a telltale sign you were on the right track. This is the portion of the experiment where you needed to take extra caution to mix the elements together in perfect precision without faltering or taking your eyes away from your project, a delicate operation requiring the utmost concentration. Suddenly, Grim barges in and jumps on the lab station in excitement, yapping about how he wants to help, despite you and Azul explaining multiple times he has a proven history of destroying your projects.

The moment the little cat-monster attempts to extend his claws into your precious potion, Azul reacts automatically with surprising speed, his hands fly in a frenzy to scoop Grim away from your chemistry equipment. "Get off that this instant, Grim! You have no business here! Get your little paws out of that glassware this instant before you ruin another assignment! Do not interrupt us! Get away from there immediately!" Azul scolds him repeatedly while chasing him around the room, attempting to steer him to the door. "Why you foolish beast! You're far more of a liability than an asset! This experiment requires extreme care and concentration to avoid failure—a common result of your erratic, clumsy behavior!" His expression hardens with anger, eyebrows drawing into a line as Grim hisses defiantly. The little monster still hasn't relented, his hind legs clumsily scrabbling and slipping in Azul's grip as he tries desperately to cling onto the edge of the lab table, hoping for a quick paw-hold. A heavy, frustrated sigh escapes Azul's nostrils, his face morphing into one of desperation, pleading with the troublesome cat-creature to just leave you to focus your project in peace.

"How very annoying... To think he would willingly place himself in danger without even stopping to consider the consequences... what a foolish and irresponsible creature," he exhales irritably, struggling to wrestle Grim from his precarious position as his composure begins to slip, agitation creeping through his voice and shattering his typical polished and suave illusion of unflappable equanimity. He continues to scold Grim as he chases him around your station, gritting his teeth and losing his cool as the monster's cries of distress and denial ring through the entire room. Grim is an unrelenting little bastard who won't quit squirming. There isn't the slightest semblance of remorse or pity on his stupid, feline face, and Azul feels his resolve crack as he becomes utterly fed up with this spoiled brat's behavior. Grim continues to kick and howl his way through Azul's grip, determined to aid with your Alchemy project, but his clumsy movements start causing your potion to bubble and ripple in an unsettling manner. You shriek his name, begging him to just settle the hell down and be a team player.

It happens in a matter of seconds—a fizzling sound grabs your attention. You turn back around quickly and notice your reaction beginning to froth violently. Your eyes widen in horror and your mouth drops in disbelief. Azul notices your fear-wide eyes and immediately stops his futile efforts to reprimand Grim. In an instant, his gaze reflects the alarm in yours and the blood drains from his already pale cheeks. Grim runs out in a screaming huff as he exits in a frenzied flurry, knowing when to take a hint and make a clean getaway. At this point, the compound is pouring heavily from the top of the flask, spewing out onto the heating device and coating the table below. The chemical reaction is completely beyond your control now, its speed increasing exponentially, bubbling and exploding, kicking out thick, unmanageable clouds of murky pink and purple fumes. Within seconds, it covers the lab tables in an almost misty haze as you choke and sputter in a coughing fit, Azul gasping and choking right alongside you, panic flashing across his face. An eerie glow seeps through the thick liquid as a swirling mist appears from inside the glass. Without warning, it erupts directly toward the two of you before either of you have time to take cover—shattering the flask and showering the fronts of your faces and bodies in its noxious, intoxicating fluids. Both you and Azul choke out muffled yells and groans, the sticky, glittering mixture clinging to the fabric of your clothes and the exposed skin on your faces.

The next thing either of you register is Crewel's obnoxious bark as he spits out sharp commands to open the windows and clear out all the air from the room. Coughing, you gasp for fresh oxygen, suddenly becoming very aware of how fast your heart is racing. It thumps so hard and so forcefully inside of your ribcage that the noise reverberates loudly in your ears, overwhelming your senses. However, no amount of labored inhaling can free you from the toxic, vaporous gas; every molecule in your lungs has already been bombarded and completely overcome by the potion’s effects. As its intoxication takes hold of you, a wicked fever seems to roar within you, followed by a horribly slow heat that makes your limbs ache. Every orifice of your body is saturated by the miasma—liquid slips between your lips, gushing down the front of your body to coat your exposed neck and chest. You taste the surprisingly sweet potion on the inside of your mouth; its taste lingers sweet and tacky on the flat of your tongue, coating your throat. You'd panic that you just consumed some horrific cocktail with traces of corrosion or stomach-rotting acid, if it weren't for the fact that Crewel seems more frustrated than concerned for your well-being. Rather than damaging you, whatever substance was expelled seems to be having quite the opposite effect; you feel your body becoming more energetic, your head becoming lighter, and a bubbling rush of warmth seems to radiate all over from the inside out, changing your physiology into a fertile garden in need of sowing. Adrenaline rushes through you and awakens your basal instincts, forcing you to acknowledge every excruciating detail of your body in an erotic manner. Arousal slithers through your veins like venom, poisoning all remaining thoughts and rationality, as a throbbing, almost blinding wave of pleasure overtakes your body. You become intensely, achingly aware of your physical needs, and all those needs center upon an impassioned desire to be filled, stretched, and seeded full—the frantic urge to be bred nearly splits you in half and makes your lower belly cramp in a hot flash of want. For a second, you hear Azul stutter something to you, his voice wavering on the verge of cracking with the desire that the aphrodisiac had triggered. You lock eyes with Azul, pupils blown wide as lust makes his oceanic gaze shimmer. The front of his slacks have grown embarrassingly tight with the straining girth of his aroused cock. You meet his clouded eyes, almost embarrassed by your wanton thoughts and the desperate throbbing between your thighs.

It is only a split second of recognition, a blurry, sweaty haze of unfathomable passion, before your shared moment is interrupted. Crewel shouts at you to look him in the eyes, snapping you out of your sexual frenzy, even if only for a split second. He stares at you, his gray-streaked hair framing the contoured features of his face as he cocks an eyebrow. The elder gives your flushed skin and trembling body a once-over.

"Just as I thought. It's a dopamine-based aphrodisiac. At least nothing fatal or life threatening, but enough to send you both into a delirious, euphoric-fueled rut," he assesses calmly, unfazed. "What's more, the way the explosion altered the structure of the compound has made its properties even more potent and uncontrollable. In terms you incompetent pups will understand, we're past the stage of antidote or reprieve, and you both have mere moments before the hormones will reach maximum capacity and you two will need to find some private location to release the effects..." He trails off. From his expression, you can tell there is more he would like to add to the situation, yet a worrisome crinkle furrows his brow as his eyes remain on Azul, as though assessing whether the situation is really as under control as he wishes. "Both of you bad dogs listen carefully. Do not even dare to even breathe a word of what transpired here—you are to wait in isolation for five to eight hours until its effects wear off. Under no circumstances should you share physical contact with anyone else for the remainder of the day." He holds Azul's gaze longer than necessary, silently threatening him not to take advantage of this situation—but Azul seems far too caught up in the spell and too infatuated by the burning image of you, sweating, panting, and splayed before him.

"Should anyone at all realize that the two of you have taken any sort of love potion or been afflicted in this manner, it could create a massive scandal, and I'll punish you both so mercilessly for causing such an indiscretion, you'll be licking my boots in front of the entire school!" his deep voice booms in threat. "Have I made myself understood, dear pets?" Crewel snaps, the sting of his whip making both you and Azul wince and nod profusely. He leads you and Azul to the decontamination area of the lab, ushering you two into separate stalls so you can change into fresh, dry garments and wipe off the evidence of the explosion from the potion. When you both emerge, it takes Crewel less than a second to glance from the massive bulge straining against Azul's clothing, to where your heaving, quivering chest is spilling over the low neckline, your nipples hard and pressing obscenely through the thin fabric. He glares down his nose at the two of you in distaste.

"Five to eight hours," he hisses, eyes narrowing, almost sizing you and Azul up like he's waiting for one of you to give in to the pressure of the aphrodisiac. He throws open a back door, gesturing for you and Azul to disappear. Azul leaves first, a flushed, jumbled mess of conflicting emotions that are only intensified as he can feel every agonizing beat of his aroused heart pulse in the heat of his hard dick. You follow closely behind, but before you can cross the doorway, Crewel shoots his hand out to grip you by the upper arm, turning you to him as he towers over you, giving you an intense glare before sighing and pulling a small vial of bluish, iridescent potion from his bag and thrusting it into your hands.

"Since I know you won't be able to resist such a delectable temptation from that damn fishy bastard," his words drip with annoyance as he continues, "at least be safe, Pup. Go have a nice screw if that's what you really desire. The serum I just gave you is a contraceptive—just one sip and you will have full reproductive control, in case Azul isn't a decent man about his desires." You blink up at him in utter bewilderment. "Under no circumstances will I allow my star pupils to fall prey to the temptations and consequences of unprotected intimacy in the midst of this reckless hormone rush... I can't allow something like this to affect you or your ambitions. My students can only go to greater places." You feel his eyes burning with concern as he brushes your cheek, sending you a warning in his eyes and urging you to please think it through and consider it. "You are interested in Azul, are you not? I won't allow you to get involved in anything you don't consent to. If you don't feel safe, I can escort you straight to Ramshackle dorm and I will handle Ashengrotto myself." His stare, once cold and imposing, is now warm with protective care, as he looks you up and down with a gentle softness you didn't expect from your professor. The paternalistic expression on his face strikes your soul and pulls on your heartstrings a bit. After all, it's the type of support you feared was lost to you once you found yourself trapped in Twisted Wonderland with no hope of ever seeing your family again. With all the gentleness of a father, he squeezes your shoulder and gazes deeply into your eyes. You assure him that it's okay, you trust Azul. Nodding, your professor finally allows you passage out the door.

You had barely made it beyond the courtyard doors before Azul approached you with a sickly sweet, almost giddy look on his face. His steel-blue irises burned bright with anticipation, accompanied by a hint of something dark and salacious flickering in the shadows. The corners of his lips pulled taut, curling upward in a devious smile. A tremulous shudder passed through you and prickled up your spine at the thought of those hypnotizing eyes studying you while you lay enraptured beneath him, completely at his mercy. As he takes a few tentative steps toward you, his right hand glides and rests softly on your hip, making you gasp with surprise, your heartbeat fluttering and pounding deafeningly in your ears. Azul leans close to your ear, his breath coming out in hot, rapid pants, a carnal excitement that threatens to spill over and devour you whole. You swallow in nervous expectation, hardly daring to look into his lustful gaze. With his elegant index finger, he lifts your chin up and you are left gasping and flushed beneath him, lips parted to beg him for more as his gentle caress lingers. He flashes a devilishly handsome smile before tracing your lower lip with a seductive slowness. "Please, allow me to escort you back to Octavinelle where I can properly tend to you and your condition," the breathiness of his voice and his lack of composure cause your clit to throb, your inner walls pulsating, pleading to be stretched and ravaged. His lecherous advances and insinuations combined with the aphrodisiac coursing through your veins is making you so aroused, even standing close to him is threatening to make you cum. The very fabric of his essence seems to burn a shade darker—there is a terrifying intensity to his ardent desire for you, yet also a rawness and exposure you hadn't seen on his usually suave and polished facade.

Your whole body flushes when your gaze lands upon the size of his aching erection, an impressive tent straining tightly against his immaculate slacks, begging for attention through the dark material of his trousers. There is a manic, primal gleam that's spreading rapidly across his entire visage; he looks rabid with uncontainable greed, and you shudder at the thought that Azul will use your body to satisfy his own dark and twisted curiosities. "Please... It's the least I could do. After all, our most unfortunate situation is all due to my own recklessness," Azul pleads. His tone of voice is unwaveringly convincing in its sweet charm, yet you cannot escape the licentious twinkle that betrays his intentions, eyes ablaze with passion and lips quivering at the thought of making you his forever.

"Please... Just let me serve you and tend to your every whim," he begs. Even though the tone of his voice suggests innocence, you're reminded once more that Azul Ashengrotto believes the true intent in a plea is only to benefit his own ambitions—how ironic, then, that you find yourself overwhelmed with the desire to listen to the velvety cadence of his whispered sweet-nothings until you orgasm multiple times around the girth of his hard dick. Before you can speak, he reaches out and threads his fingers between your own. It was impossible to say no to the lilting honey of his tone, nor was there any will to fight as his firm and commanding hands ushered you towards the teleportation door. He practically pulls you into the mirror with him, and with a twinkly, delighted laugh, his covetous hand grasps you harder than ever as the portal draws closer, his eyes and touch almost reverential—eager, desperate, craving. The surface of the mirror swallows both of you up as the shadows distort the edges of your vision. The whole world spins around you both before the smell of the sea overwhelms your senses—the crispness of ocean air fills your lungs, and a feeling of cool relief washes over your flushed skin. In seconds, Azul is shoving you into an elevator and hitting the button to his suite. When the metal doors slide open, he gently shuffles you forward as he urges your body closer and closer toward his bedroom.

After his dorm door slams shut, your bodies mindlessly work to free the other's of their pesky and offending clothing, eager and restless fingers tearing and ripping at each article as though your lives depended on it. As each piece of clothing is discarded on the floor, new heated skin presses desperately into another as your erotic moans reverberate through the air. It feels electric, the way your sensitive, exposed bodies seek each other out, pawing and grasping at any available flesh and kissing any naked skin you can reach. Your hot, yearning mouth hungrily seeks Azul's for an urgent, feverish kiss—it is sloppy, desperate, almost savage as you share the intensity of your lusty feelings, gasping into each other's mouths, sucking, nibbling, tasting the sweet and sticky aphrodisiac concoction still lingering on both of your tongues. When Azul finally sheds his trousers, his painfully erect member juts out, throbbing and eager, bouncing happily and proudly as it quivers with eagerness. His knees weaken at the sudden release of the tension he'd suffered since the accident, the air a bit brisk against the heat of his erection, which begs to nestle itself securely into an inviting heat and fill your womb with the lusty seed it desires to spurt forth. His cock is ruddy and reddened, and his sack hangs swollen and tight with pent-up pressure. He doesn't think it possible for it to throb and swell even larger, yet its angry head and veins grow dark and twitch from his hot blood pumping. His hand mindlessly falls to his cock, and at the first stroke to his aching member, a needy whine catches in his throat. There is no time for shyness or apprehension. Whatever spell you were both under was driving you forward—like two planets caught in the gravity of an irresistible force, each gravitationally pulled toward the other with no means to stop. The rational part of his brain has been overwhelmed by an urgent instinct. Azul knows without a shadow of doubt that the only cure for this overwhelming haze of sexual depravity is to thrust himself deep inside the hot, velvety cunt of his precious lab partner.

Next thing you knew, you were pushed roughly, falling backwards before connecting against the smooth, luxurious blankets covering his mattress. He follows eagerly, letting his entire weight drop against your form and trapping your supple body beneath his. It was then, right then, when Azul found that the feeling of his aroused cock pressing against your thigh was unbelievably divine—a warm and pleasant tingling sensation spreading all over his hot, hard shaft and emanating out from his loins. With a contented hum, Azul can't resist the urge to buck his hips against your warm skin, stroking his arousal a little further, groaning at the exquisite friction. What a delicious sight you are—all nude and aroused—splayed and exposed across his bed. The effects of the potion have left you looking thoroughly wrecked, legs open, dripping and hot with an aroma so alluring, it nearly knocks the air out of his lungs. You are positively lovely, just as he'd always dreamed, with your petals unfurled and beckoning, enticing him further and drawing him in as your soft moans coaxed his cock in closer. To see you writhing and panting, the flush of your skin as you burned with longing for him...it was exactly as he'd always wanted it, almost as though someone had crafted the perfect image just to fulfill his darkest wishes. A surge of erotic fantasy comes upon him, and Azul's breath hitches in his throat as he ponders, briefly, about your womb filled with his seed, his beautiful angelfish round with child. He wants nothing more than to unceremoniously bury himself as deep within as he can, to push his thick, pulsating shaft as far as you could manage and stay buried to the hilt for days. His body quivers with excitement as a particularly vulgar dream reenters his mind. He had longed, always, to possess a most lascivious power over you—the power to make you writhe and squirm in bliss, and more importantly, in total and unbreakable dependence and submission for him—the neediest, sluttiest mess imaginable. Perhaps he'd have to thank Grim later for consequentially bringing about this fortunate chain of events.

Azul begins stroking himself fully, unabashed in his view of the sight before him. You don't protest the show. In fact, a high pitched, whimpery moan escapes you as you bite into your thumb to stifle the volume, but the sound is not missed, the harsh pang in his cock proof enough. After some thought, he realizes that he much preferred when you had been writhing and moaning quite uninhibitedly a moment earlier. You shift uncomfortably underneath his heated gaze as his eyes drink in every little curve, every little wrinkle and fold of your dripping pussy. Your toes curl inward and the ache deep within you demands attention. "You're so perfect, my little angelfish. Your body is exactly as I imagined," his saccharine voice admits as he leans forward, letting his fingers dance across the swell of your breasts. His left hand cradles your jaw and throat as his right continues its delicate massage across the plush pillow of your breasts, toying with the perked nubs of your nipples as his thumbs swirl small circles against the delicate flesh.

Azul's gentle touch ignites flames under his fingertips that follow his descent down to the juncture of your legs. The first brush against your swollen bundle of nerves and slit has your spine arching upwards, making his cock throb even more painfully, stiffening under the visual of your trembling body. A whine escapes and your hips grind involuntarily, the heat building intensely as his fingers begin to experimentally spread your folds slowly, running the tip of a finger from your core to the hood of your pearl. Without warning, Azul swipes upwards, expertly pulling back the hood and exposing the raw, sensitive flesh of nerves underneath, pinching down on the fleshy bud and causing you to yelp loudly in shock. With a satisfied grin, his forefinger begins to toy and tweak the hardened bud, rubbing gentle, rhythmic patterns over and over against the bundle as a chorus of delightful, high-pitched squeals fill his dormitory. After a few more ministrations, his hands continue down, delving his fingers straight into the moistened and heated opening, swiping up the slick mess you had coated his palm in. Two long fingers deftly slip right between your folds, caressing their way around your labia, your wet walls clenching around his fingertips desperately. "This wetness, for me?" Azul chuckles wickedly, crooking his fingers upward and brushing your g-spot with a knowing curl of his fingers, sending you spasming, gasping, and writhing in ecstasy, eyelashes fluttering wildly. "Oh, my dearest—so precious, my angelfish. That's it, so beautiful, just for me..." His voice drips with lecherous intent, his body moving without even the slightest hint of hesitation as though you were merely an extension of his own and not even a separate entity. Your wetness coats his fingers easily as Azul keeps sliding his fingers into your wet heat until the pads of his fingers touch all your deepest, hidden places, causing more sweet moans to fall from your lips and echo through his room. He scissors and curls his digits inside, stroking you slowly as though wanting to feel every bump, crease, and ridge along your walls, claiming his ownership over your deepest parts with a sinister delight.

A pressure builds and teeters precariously right at the precipice—the curling of his digits work feverishly to milk every drop of pleasure he can from your shuddering body, the warm flood of wetness drenching his eager fingers and making his head fall back with a sensuous moan. He continues with his relentless assault against your pussy, whispering filthy compliments about how badly he wanted to fuck you and how sexy it is when you take his fingers so well. Your legs flutter open wider, inviting his slim and nimble digits deeper within you, fucking them vigorously as your release begins to pool, rising closer to the boiling point. The aphrodisiac grips its poisonous talons deeper into your mind, warping and bending everything into an unshakable desire to submit yourself and your pleasure to the hands of the devious sea creature above you. He leans down, his silvery eyes roving over your face in an intense appraisal, his features drawn in with concentration, mapping out how to unravel you—there wasn't an emotion or micro expression that slipped past his vision as he carefully considered all the factors of how best to please and overwhelm your body with incomparable rapture. There isn't anything else beyond the present—no outside forces, nor worries about the consequences of being intimate. There's simply no room in your mind to think at this point, the cloudiness of the effects rendering your body vulnerable—you give yourself up entirely. He drinks up every breath, every shake and shiver, as he continues calculating your climax, relishing in each tiny noise or action he drew from you, meticulous with the acquisition of your bliss.

"Yes. Give in." he laughs maniacally, his face fully consumed in the intense madness of his lustful insanity. "Give in to every sensation. Let me drive you wild... Do as I command and cum," Azul demands you through his laughter, his breathing rapid and heavy as he watches your eyes rolling back. He moans in awe as the loud, slick sounds of his hand filling your soaking cunt meet his ears and a deep flush travels across his collarbones. His own needy cock leaks, eagerly anticipating what's next as its engorged state bulges obscenely, its every vein throbbing with virile desperation. Your high-pitched moans continue for some time as his pace stays fast, until you can finally feel your entire body tensing up, the fire coiling inside your gut ready to explode any moment. Everything builds higher and higher to the peak, every muscle and nerve fiber in your body primed to receive that last push that would send you catapulting over the cliff. As he feels your walls tremble, Azul moans along with your high-pitched wailing. A deranged smile stretches across his face and his silver eyes fill with amusement and fascination.

Azul leans into your ear, whispering sweet nothings mixed with commanding, demanding words to finally succumb, "That's it...Let go..." He twists and digs deeper, stroking the perfect places inside you, hitting the correct spots relentlessly in an overload of mind-bending, debauchery-fueled, electric-spark pleasure, forcing your senses to dissociate from reality. His thrusting hand matches the frantic racing of his own heart, unable to keep the carnal fever down. "Give in... submit yourself fully, and surrender that orgasm. It's mine. I've worked for it, and now it belongs only to me." He whispers in a devilish growl, nibbling on your ear as his strokes become rougher, harder, faster—you can hardly stand the overwhelming force of your pleasure before its sweet relief crashes like waves. A broken moan leaves your mouth, a pure exaltation of uncontrolled passion. Noises come tumbling out and spilling over until you finally dissolve into a messy orgasm, shrieking his name in pleasure as his hand slows its motions but doesn't stop, keeping its pressure steady and rocking the whole of your existence until your mind goes blank. "Such a good, obedient angelfish, giving me all of your sweet, succulent cum... all for me, yes?" Azul hums sweetly, teasingly. "Oh, this is so precious," he sighs, feeling the quaking and trembling of your fluttering walls. His expression melts into one of deep satisfaction and pride.

"There you go, my lovely angelfish. Just as I said I would," Azul croons. Without another word, his hand, wet with your desire, abandons its ministrations, pulling from your depths with a slick pop, leaving your empty cunt to tremble from his absence. Azul brings his fingers to his mouth for a lewd taste test, licking the juices from his hand as a self-indulgent smirk plays upon his lips. As he rolls the digits around his tongue, sampling the essence of your cunt, a sharp groan rumbles deep from within his chest, the vibration coursing down his spine and directly into his throbbing member. Even as his breath grows heavy from the feeling of his needy cock, the smug, triumphant smirk doesn't disappear. He enjoys the honeyed, tangy sweetness and savors the lingering sensation on his taste buds—another string attached, making it utterly impossible for him to let go. A low chuckle is heard from deep in his chest, dark and hauntingly mirthful. From his pleased sigh, you could easily read the insatiable hunger growing within his gleaming eyes—clearly the lust in his loins has only been ignited further—a starving, manic beast hungry for even more from your yielding form, an insatiable craving that can't be satiated so easily. His cock visibly twitches, begging for him to mount you and thrust his painfully aroused length as far as he can manage deep into your eager, spasming pussy. The aphrodisiac courses through his veins with all the potency of a tropical storm, whipping every nerve into a frenzy as the instinct takes hold in Azul's most primordial thoughts and drives all those cravings with an irrepressible urgency—he simply has to get your pregnant. Azul's cheeks flush with a reddish-pink shade as he fixates on you, the hunger in his gaze absolutely feral, filled with a single-minded lustful determination to breed you.

When your eyes meet his maddened, love-struck stare, you are overcome with the same desperation radiating from your womb, urging to be stuffed and claimed by his thick load. At last, the two of you had connected in this all-consuming fire—a conflagration of desire so severe and a love so encompassing that both of you could do nothing more than dance on the ashes and burn with the flames. In that moment of recognition, an irresistible, bewitching aura emanates from him and mesmerizes you as the air of mystery dissipates from his visage, the eroticized specter of the fearsome and dangerous, devious mogul melts away to reveal the raw intensity of the young man underneath, exposed in all his ardent, unfettered passions. Here stands Azul, naked with vulnerability, desiring only a love that no other has been able to truly give. He's always tried to prevent access to his real emotions, afraid of the kind of cruelty they would reap upon him if they were found. He didn't believe himself to be worthy of their regard, let alone capable of receiving someone's genuine affections. With you, though, there were none of his signature theatrics, no polite deflection, nor charming evasiveness; he gave you full permission to view him and all of his repressed feelings on full display. An open book, Azul trusts you enough to expose his heart fully, so transparent in his neediness. Since he brought you to his bedroom, there was never the slightest hint of deception in his tone—not once had he attempted to distract you, nor used a tactic or trick. Perhaps his true intentions for getting close to you were more admirable than you thought, his desperation to get close to you was merely just a pining for your love rather than a sordid trick. His earnest, loving gaze, combined with the grip of your desire, makes something finally shift within, like the turning of the tide—a sense that it was fated for you to fall and crash so desperately, madly, and completely for him—a long-awaited inevitability, just as he had already done for you long before this Alchemy accident. Azul was an adoringly gentle yet brutally powerful force, a pillar in your life you can lean into without hesitation. All of your fears, worries, and frustrations are suddenly null, evaporating into the thin air of Octavinelle, carried into the gentle waters outside the window and disappearing into the seas.

Nothing is more erotic than seeing his carefully maintained veneer crumbling before you and letting himself fall apart at the seams. No longer hiding his desires or his ambitions for you, Azul's lusty hunger has you excited, aroused, and turned on like never before. You return his lustful, hazy expression and Azul is drawn right into the softness of your inviting stare. Your mouth parts to allow a needy moan to pass as you buck your hips slightly, inviting him to finally claim your body as his, a beautiful sacrifice you're eager to make for a beautiful siren such as him. With a deep, lewd groan, Azul pushes off your trembling body, propping himself onto his knees and groping at your chest, making you mewl. There's no trace left of the smooth businessman persona, not even a hint of it lingers when his wet mouth kisses at your mounds and his large hands explore the contours of your curves, his fingertips desperately memorizing the way you're put together, tracing every bit of available flesh. His eager tongue swirls at your peaked nipples, moaning in appreciation and delight. Your mind is being swallowed by a bubbling wave of bliss that has no end as his hand trails across your hips, his touch is as gentle as a ripple in the water. With a shyly embarrassed flush and a sigh of wanton abandonment, you surrender entirely to him—letting the sea creature drown you in ecstasy, deeper and deeper, into the endless ocean. He caresses your stomach gently, the calloused pads of his fingers exploring the sensitive skin where he knows your womb lies. Your heart stumbles as his lips twist upward in an impish smirk at the thought of all the cum he's soon going to pump straight into the cavity. He palms your belly, which would soon carry his progeny as an inevitable result of this union, imagining his angelfish's stomach rounded and taut with his unborn child, perhaps, even more than once—Azul's thoughts are full of fantasies about filling you and fucking your pretty little womb over and over until he succeeds and you're blessed with his babies. Azul hums at the image of your pregnant body, worshiping the slope of your thighs and rubbing his hands up your waist and the undersides of your breasts. Azul knows that even if it doesn't work right away, he is more than prepared to breed you again and again as many times as necessary. He is more than certain you'll eventually give him a consortium of little octopus-human hybrids. After all, you'd offered yourself up in the end. Who was he not to take what was freely given?

He grasps the back of your knee to prop up your leg in the air, shifting closer. In one fell swoop, your tender thighs are flung open, revealing your glistening cunt. Azul moans, running the rough pad of his finger right up the slit of your lips. You're already a mess, his slick hand had not been able to satisfy your heat at all, it only created a further yearning deep within that could only be satisfied by his aching cock. Azul settles against the fronts of your thighs, letting the stiff heat of his bulging erection nestle against the dripping lips of your cunt, already poised and eager for insertion. The anticipation causes the two of you to tremble slightly at the intimacy, your lips wet and sticky as they run against the length, his cock drooling freely from the tip and leaking beads of sticky, precum fluid right across your folds. With one more affectionate, sweet peck against the corner of your lip, and another one right upon your forehead, Azul slowly glides inside. A shared cry of euphoria leaves your mouths simultaneously as Azul buries the full length of his throbbing cock into your sopping entrance, thrusting powerfully to hilt balls-deep. The pure, erotic rapture of finally consummating your love floods both of your veins. His dick is filling you in the most indescribable way and stretching your cunt so deliciously that stars appear behind your eyes. A glorious symphony of relief sings in your blood while his hard girth massages your innermost walls as though he were meant for no other—like he was perfectly made to be the puzzle piece filling your immaculate pussy. You both gasp sharply in unison as the sensation sends tremors down his shaft. Every vein, ridge, and inch of his length drags deeply with each thrust as he grinds you thoroughly, bringing your clits into tantric connection and rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves back and forth in perfect time with the rocking motion. Each snap of his hip makes the two of you share a joyful sob as he pleasures you in the most divine manner.

A low and sinful groan passes through your lips as your hands grip him tighter, begging him to increase his momentum and pace. Azul's hands clutch you in a tight embrace, his chest to yours with every inch of his hardness fully embedded into your velvety passage, sending white-hot sparks of pleasure shooting to the deepest recesses of your innermost being, triggering the sudden rush of a climax that is starting to rise to its precipice. Azul groans as your juices run down his balls, pooling around his sack and providing more lubrication for his relentless drive inside of you. You clench and flutter around him, squeezing your inner walls with every desperate urge for friction and movement, drawing Azul's eye right up to yours in a lusty daze. His body is coiling for release, ready to cum, and there's a glitter of utter happiness in his expression. His lips quiver with desire and he smirks as he feels you clamping and spasming around his rock-hard dick, begging him to breed you like the little slut that he secretly knows you are, all while knowing deep down you'd get so unbelievably plump and swollen with his hatchlings, he'd hardly be able to move his tentacles with all the kids crawling over him.

It's more intense, and far more electrifying than the filthy fantasies that had invaded his sleep every lonely evening whenever he gave in to his insufferable yearning for you. He'd envisioned this, over and over—what it would feel like to make you orgasm, just how satisfying it would feel to cum with you at the same time, and how heavenly it would be to stretch your cunt so snugly—and yet, in this moment, it surpasses his imagination exponentially, eliciting a complete flood of sensual pleasure all throughout his senses. Not even his wildest wet dreams had prepared him for the heady intoxication and undeniable high he experiences with you—being passionately and physically intertwined, wrapped around the most sublime euphoria that was possible—a wave so dizzying that there's absolutely no going back to life without the other once your bodies have succumbed and reached that ultimate, highest peak.

When Azul hits the point of no-return, his legs start shaking as though his limbs were going to fall off. His fingers tangle roughly in your hair as he drags your mouth closer to meet his. With each heavy thrust, he swallows every moan that erupts from your throat. His movements become less coherent, rougher, and disjointed as the strength of your cunt's embrace pulses tightly around his shaft and urges him toward the edge. Suddenly, an intense wave of satisfaction takes hold and shoots to the tip of his cock, pulsating violently in need to release its seed. Azul can't help but groan loudly into your ear as he slams his cock into you with ferocious strength, fucking the life and soul right out of your being while a high-pitched scream accompanies the splash and squelching noises of your pussy. Your mouth has gone slack, jaw dropping as you cry out his name and climax with such power that it whips you into a complete frenzy of desperation, sending your vision dancing with lights. You quake and shiver under the force of his fervor and ecstasy, writhing on the mattress and throwing your head backward to soak in your overwhelming, toe-curling rapture. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, pounding you fiercely as you wail and shatter with a rush of emotions so intense, you don't know if you will ever put yourself back together. A strained whine and a few sharp pumps later, a surge of hot, wet euphoric heat shoots from Azul's balls and spurts out in ribbons of his own spent climax as he spends his load of pearly cum directly into your waiting womb, splashing your tight channel with a continuous stream—painting every crevice of your silken, fluttering, vice-like depths a glossy white. Azul is unable to help himself as his hips start grinding into yours with slow rolls, fucking and stuffing every drop of his sticky cream deeply and ensuring it remains securely nestled in your folds. Every remaining bit of sexual tension floods out as though you'd been submerged in the most heavenly waterfall of pleasure imaginable. Azul whines weakly into the pillow and your moans join, eventually dissipating into a heavenly silence as you sink heavily back to reality.

Time slows to an almost stop and your vision gets a bit hazy and bleary as the aphrodisiac magic completely pulses away. You two lay side by side on the soft blankets, still in the bed and soaked with sweat. Neither of you move for quite some time. Just in the wake of your post-orgasm, everything becomes intensely surreal. You try to breathe quietly so Azul doesn't hear and as his head rests on your breasts. He, too, is heaving with difficulty, each inhale is a conscious decision. He clings tightly against you, hands threaded together like a lifeline, afraid to let go. One last sentence leaves his mouth—a whisper that could have easily been missed by anyone except for you. It was a question.

"Are we both in love?" Azul asks with such hesitance, you think maybe you've misheard his inquiry. He is lying right by your side. His face is dangerously close to yours, and the way his stormy, ocean azure eyes reflect every emotion swirling inside allows you to see the years of hurt that's plagued him. He's absolutely enchanted, like you are the perfect dream come true—everything he'd ever imagined in one living, breathing, precious human body—a lover so magnificent he could hardly comprehend. He studies your expression with awe and reverence. A look so intensely raw it burns right through your heart and lights up the space in your soul that you never before realized was reserved just for him. "Because I love you... Truly and deeply. So much that I don't know how it was possible, even," Azul admits freely, without the least hint of apprehension or nervousness. You can feel the intensity and honesty of his words radiate through his trembling fingertips, through the places where his naked skin touched yours—he doesn't try to mask the pure unadulterated warmth and delight that leaks through the shaky but firm expression on his flushed face.

A wide, cheerful and genuine grin breaks out against your features as you nod enthusiastically, and it is almost as though a heavenly, soothing light has poured over his entire world. It feels like a dream, a fairytale that is too good to be true. Yet here you both lie, doused in the magic of the concoction, clinging to each other and to that euphoric elation after giving in to the passions and the chemical bonds. It felt incredible, it felt natural and familiar and right. This wasn't anything artificial, rather the long overdue acknowledgement of feelings that were there all along—a kindling of romance that was never forced, but rather fanned to life after many days spent as Alchemy partners. After seeing each other every day, getting to know each other's quirks, and learning of each other's daily habits, the intimacy had bloomed and nurtured into something tender and real. The closeness the potion provided simply allowed the two of you the confidence needed to step across a boundary and pursue things.

"This won't be something short lived... you understand what I am saying, yes?" His tone has a tinge of fear creeping in and you can't help but stroke the outline of his cheekbones. This feeling will not end with a simple fuck, you knew that deep in the marrow. There will be more of that to come. In fact, the thought of it has your cunt pulsing, your sex aching at the idea. "I simply won't have you anywhere else but with me, and here in my dorm. I just won't be able to be happy otherwise..." Azul's voice quivers as the vulnerable sincerity flows.

"Yes, Azul. Yes, I understand and I feel the exact same," you chuckle and cradle his head. His blue eyes crinkle slightly from the beam across his lips, and Azul can't resist pulling you in for a feverish kiss, groaning from the rush. That familiar, sinfully blissful high is starting to take hold again, the rush of the aphrodisiac stirring something fiery back into a pleasant burn. The chemical’s grip on the two of you continues. After all, nothing will stop the magic from bringing you closer together. He murmurs a seductive promise into the curve of your throat that he won't stop until his load drips and slides right out of your swollen cunt—he's going to breed you the rest of the night and spill as much of himself deep within as he can. He has no doubt you're going to give him a child that will cement this loving bond permanently.

Listen I don't know HOW this HAPPENED, I DON'T understand how I wrote this much. I am DELIRIOUS and I need to go pick up some pizza for dinner, so I wish I could say more here but I can't right now. I'll update this part when I get back home. I just needed to get this out into the UNIVERSE. THANK YOU ALL!!! HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!! <3333 Erica Malleleothreesome

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland smut #twisted wonderland x reader smut #twst smut #twst x reader smut #twst azul ashengrotto x reader smut #twst azul ashengrotto smut #twisted wonderland azul x reader smut #azul ashengrotto x reader smut #twst azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto smut #twst azul #twisted wonderland azul x reader #azul ashengrotto #twisted wonderland azul #azul x reader #my writing

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littlefireball · 5 months ago

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ʏʜ|[ᴍ]|ᴅᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴘʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴄᴇ

ᴘᴇʀᴠ ʏᴜɴʜᴏ x 9ᴛʜ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.1ᴋ

9th member AU/ ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2 ᴏꜰ ᴘᴇʀᴠ ʏᴜɴʜᴏ x 9ᴛʜ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ

"Y/N, your legs." Yunho pointed out. You and he were currently practicing 'Sector 1,' a particularly challenging section for your movements. Your legs appeared disconnected from your hips, creating an awkward spectacle as you danced.

"Ugh, this is so difficult," you groaned, placing your hands on your hips.

"It's not as tough as it seems. You just need to concentrate on this part…" Yunho stepped in closer, positioning himself behind you, effortlessly gliding his legs to demonstrate the correct motion.

"Wow, you make it look so simple," you replied, a bittersweet smile creeping onto your face. He responded with a grin, his gaze sweeping over you, absorbing every detail. Your hair, your chest, your hips… every part of you captivated him. He recalled how that snug tank top accentuated your curves, enhancing the allure of your chest; how your hips moved gracefully with each dance step…

You were so damn beautiful. He couldn't help but wonder how you would appear beneath him. It must be a sight to behold.

"Yunho?" Your unexpected question jolted him from his wandering thoughts, leaving him momentarily speechless before his eyes met yours.

"You space out."

"Ah..it's just daydreaming."

"You okay?Are you tired?"

"Ah…no…no worries." He swallowed hard, his heart still pounding in his chest. his mind filled with only one thought─you. You could sense the guilt and anxiety lacing his words, yet beneath that surface, there was something deep swirling within him.

"Shall we continue?" You tilted your head slightly, maintaining a calm and neutral face, as if you were oblivious to the lust brewing in his thoughts.

"Yah, sure."

The session began with the sound of music filling the air, but slowly, the rhythm and melody faded into silence. The voice echoing in Yunho's mind overwhelmed the sound of footsteps, fueling his insatiable desire. His gaze was irresistibly drawn to your bare collarbone, envisioning it adorned with kiss marks that were his alone. From there, his eyes roamed over the contours of your body, as if he yearned to etch every detail into his memory.

It must be nice to feel your warmth wrapped around his cock, bringing him endless pleasure. The allure of desire overwhelmed his rational thoughts, perhaps he didn't even put up a fight. He feigned a lack of rhythm in your dancing, inching closer with each beat. Your fragrance enveloped him, drawing him into an irresistible whirlwind from which there was no escape.

"You should sway like this." His hands glided up your arms, the warmth of your skin igniting a spark beneath his fingertips. In that fleeting moment of connection, a thrilling jolt surged through him, intoxicating and impossible to resist.

"Follow me." His thighs brushed against you, moving in sync with the music's pulse. His chest was firmly against your back, and you could feel your body responding to his proximity. Your heart raced beneath his fingertips, and the quickening rhythm sent a warm flush across your cheeks.

"Why so intense, hm?" His soft murmurs brushed against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine, while the warmth of his breath caressed your skin, igniting the long-buried yearnings within you.

The air between you and Yunho was thick with tension, your bodies swaying in perfect harmony to the rhythm of your unspoken yearnings. His fingers glided over your skin, igniting a surge of electricity that coursed through you, while his proximity stirred a deep-seated intimacy that you fought hard to suppress.

But as you stood there, your bodies pressed closely together, every fiber of you was hyper-aware of his presence, of the heat radiating from him, of the sound of his rapid breathing fanning against your neck. Your own body betrayed you, betraying your own hidden desires.

And that, in turn, only intensified Yunho's desire, compelling him to draw even nearer, as if the mere thought of any distance between you was unbearable.

"You need a lesson, y/n." Yunho whispered against your ear, the velvety tone of his voice sent a shiver down your spine, and his hand, roaming hungrily over your body, burned like a white-hot iron against your skin.

"A lesson, you say?" You managed to keep your tone cool and steady despite the storm of desire swirling within you.

"Indeed." He breathed, his words a soft, sensuous whisper that sent tingles dancing across your skin. His hand continued its exploring path over your curves, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

Each touch was deliberate, each caress calculated to stoke the flames burning deep within you. It was as if he knew exactly what you needed, and was determined to awaken every nerve in your body.

His hand, warm and steady, traveled down your body, his fingers tracing a languid path along your skin. You gasped softly at the sensation, your breath catching in your throat.

Yunho leaned in, his lips hovering mere millimeters from your ear, and spoke again, his voice a low, husky murmur. "You're mine, remember?"

Your body quivered at the words, your heart racing within your chest as if it might burst through your ribcage. The possessiveness in his tone ignited a fire within you, a heady mix of excitement and anticipation.

"Yours..." you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.

"That's right." he whispered, his hand sliding lower to cup the curve of your hip. His touch was possessive, claiming you as his own with every passing moment.

"And you know what happens to what's mine, don't you?"

You nodded, the heat in your cheeks intensifying as the implications of his words sank in. The weight of his gaze, the possessive grip of his hand—all of it was more tantalizing than you ever could have imagined.

"I do," you replied, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions roiling beneath the surface.

He hummed approvingly, his hand tightening its grip on your hip before he pressed his body against yours, pinning you between him and the wall. The heat in his eyes was scorching, igniting a fire deep within your core.

"Good girl," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. His free hand found your chin, tilting it up so that your eyes met his, and there was a possessiveness in his gaze that stirred something primal within you.

"Now, show me just how much I own you." he instructed, his voice a low, commanding growl. His hand moved again, sliding around to grip the underside of your thigh, lifting your leg to hook over his hip.

Your breath caught in your throat at the sudden movement, and you grabbed onto his shoulder for balance. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the hardness of his muscles, the tautness of his desire in the hand that held you firmly in place.

"You know I want you so bad." His hand slid further up your thigh, his touch searing even through the fabric. His body pressed more firmly against you, trapping you between him and the wall. You could feel how hard and deep his arched crotch nestled between your thighs as his knee forcefully pushed your thighs widen. You couldn't help but let out a soft gasp as a jolt of electric heat coursing through your veins.

His hands began to move again, exploring your body with a casual possessiveness that left you weak-kneed. His touch was like a slow, torturous caress, each movement deliberate and calculated to heighten your need for him. You could feel your body responding, your heart racing and your breath quickening, your body craving his touch like an addict craved their next hit.

"I could have you right here, against this wall," he murmured against your neck, his teeth grazing against the sensitive flesh. His hand moved higher, his fingers toying with the hem of your tank top.

Your breath caught, and you gripped his shoulder more firmly, your body trembling with barely restrained desire. The thought of giving in to him, here and now, where anyone could see, sent a flush of heat through you.

"But then everyone would know you belong to me," he continued, his voice a low, possessive growl. His hands continued their exploration, slowly tracing a path over the bare skin of your stomach.

You arched into him, a soft moan escaping your lips at the sensation of his touch. You were his, completely and utterly, and the realization only heightened the aching need building within you.

"Say it, y/n," he commanded, his voice a low, guttural growl. His hand moved higher, his fingers tracing lazy circles along your stomach, teasing the underside of your breast.

"I'm yours," you breathed, your voice hoarse with need, all thoughts of anything else fading away to leave only the heat and desire between you.

A deep, contented growl emanated from Yunho's chest at your words, and he drew nearer, his body melding against yours as his lips captured yours in a fierce, possessive kiss.

His tongue invaded your mouth, hungry and insistent, while his hand cradled the back of your head, tilting you to intensify the kiss. You felt as if you were submerged in a whirlwind of sensation, swept away in the tempest of his desire.

He held you firmly against the wall, the kiss enveloping you, consuming you entirely, igniting a blaze of longing within your veins. Your body pressed against his, and you could sense the urgency of his need, the undeniable proof of his yearning for you.

As he finally released your lips, his mouth trailed a line of heated, wet kisses down your neck. His hands roamed your body, fingers sparking like fire across your skin, awakening every nerve ending.

"Need you now." His longing surged like an insatiable blaze, devouring everything around it. In a moment of lost restraint, he tore your clothes away with a fierce swipe, leaving you exposed before him. His hands trembled as they moved toward his belt, fumbling to unfasten it.

The sharp click of the belt buckle releasing echoed through the stillness of the room, amplifying the charged atmosphere thick with desire. Yunho's gaze remained locked on yours as he methodically unbuttoned his pants, each motion careful and intentional, as if revealing something truly valuable.

Your breath hitched at the sight of him, your eyes lingering on the exposed skin, on the taut muscles of his abdomen, the sharp V of his hips. It took all of your restraint not to reach out and touch, to run your hands over every inch of him.

His hands gripped your hips, pulling you against him. His cock slid inside your depth with a single, harsh move, making you let out a loud moan. The heat of his skin against yours was like fire, scorching and delicious, and you couldn't help but arch into him.

His lips found your neck again, his mouth hot and hungry against your skin. His tongue tracing a path down your collarbone, his teeth nipping at the sensitive flesh. His hands roamed over your body, possessive and demanding, claiming every inch as if afraid you would slip away from him.

He walked you backwards until your legs hit the sofa, and then he pushed you back onto it, following you down until he was hovering over you, his body trapping you beneath him. The weight of him, the heat of him, was overwhelming, and all you could do was gasp as he kissed you again, his tongue delving into your mouth with reckless abandon.

"Yu..yunho…!" A soft, muffled moan escaped your lips as his mouth descended upon your neck. He nibbled and kissed your skin, creating a series of deep red, mottled impressions that lingered in his wake. His tongue glided down your collarbone, swirling in the delicate hollow at the base of your throat before continuing its journey downward.You shut your eyes tightly as his cock ruined your velvet cunt. The way he battered your spot, the way his length rubbed against your wall, the vibration he caused when he let out a small growl were like a drug, making you desire for more.

"Look at you, how beautiful." Yunho satback, his eyes raking over your body as he moved against you. His eyes explored every inch of you, lingering on your curves, the slope of your breasts, the dip of your waist, and finally stopped at your cunt.

Oh gosh. It must be his favourite sight to see how your cunt tried hard to swallow his long length. He rocked his hip against you, watching how his cock slid deep and reached your spot. Each time your tiny moan left your tongue caused a wave of pleasure rushed over him. Damn it. He needed to record all of this, now.

He leaned down to grab his phone that was placed on the sofa, accidentally pushed to the depth. You couldn't help but arch your back and moan loud as he was about to break your limit.

"Damn…!Yunho!" "Oh fuck! It feels so good." He sat it back and opened the camera, aiming at your lower core before pressing the record button. He was drawn into the beautiful sight underneath him. The way you sucked him in drove him insane. Withdrew slightly, he plunged back with all his might. His pelvis pressed against your clit as he reached the deepest, staying for a while as he loved how you struggled to take him full.

"Too deep, too deep..!" Your plea was just like a beautiful melody, his eyes darkened at your words. He drew back and repeated the same over and over again until he lost control and fucked you at an inhuman-speed.

"Moan louder!Louder!" "I…I am so…close!!" "Let go, dear." Your body responded to his words, a wave of heat coursing through you. You were so close, teetering on the edge, and his touch was sending you flying further and further out to sea.

"That's it," he murmured, his voice a low, guttural growl. His fingers moved, finding the most sensitive spot between your thighs and rubbing in small, torturous circles. "Let go for me, y/n."

You let out a soft gasp, the heat of his touch, the weight of his gaze, pushing you further and further toward that edge. Your hands curled into the bedding, pulling at the fabric as you felt the pressure building, tightening low in your stomach, growing more and more intense.

"I said, let go," Yunho repeated, his voice a low, commanding rumble. His fingers pressed against you more firmly, his touch knowing and deliberate, and you felt your body shudder, teetering on that edge for a moment, a moment that stretched and stretched, until finally…

The world crumbled around you, a tempest of sensations engulfing you, pulling you beneath its relentless waves. You breathed his name, your body arching off the sofa as a surge of searing ecstasy enveloped you. It was a deluge of rapture, consuming and blinding, leaving you momentarily adrift in a sea of pleasure, gasping for breath and gripping Yunho as if he were your only salvation. He anchored you through the storm, his eyes locked onto yours, his hands moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm. His gaze radiated a mix of pride and ownership, and he leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"That's my girl," he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction. "You're so beautiful, y/n. So damn beautiful."

He shifted, moving to lay beside you on the sofa, pulling you close against his side. His arms wrapped around you, holding you against him as he continued to murmur words of praise and possession in your ear.

"You are so good…you're mine…all mine."

You were boneless, your limbs heavy and your breaths still coming in ragged gasps. You felt as if you were floating, drifting on a cloud of pleasure and contentment.

"Mine," he repeated again, as if to drive the point home. His hands were gentle now, his touch soft and soothing. He brushed a lock of hair from your face, his eyes filled with a tenderness that contradicted the possessiveness of his earlier words.

"And I'm going to make sure you know it," he said, his voice dropping to a low growl. He nipped at your ear, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh of your earlobe.

"No one else will ever touch you the way that I do. No one else will ever make you feel the way that I do." His hands moved down your body, a lazy touch.

"You're mine, y/n," he repeated, his voice a low, murmured promise. "For as long as I have breath in my lungs, you belong to me."

His touch was soothing now, and you felt your eyelids grow heavy, your body succumbing to the boneless exhaustion of pleasure-induced release. You snuggled closer to him, nestling your head in the crook of his shoulder, and his arms tightened around you in an embrace.

"Rest now," he murmured, his voice a low, soothing rumble. "I've got you. I've got you, and I'm never letting go."

"As you are mine, dear."

—-----

"Hey y/n, sit here!" He patted on his thigh, gesturing to you to sit on him. Well, you had no right to defend him. He had your video, how you moaned and begged under him.

You felt your heart skip a beat at his command. His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument, and you knew instinctively that resisting would be futile. You bit your lip, your cheeks flushing with heat, but ultimately, you obeyed, settling yourself onto his lap.

"Good girl." He murmured against your ear, his hot breath landing on your bare neck. "Play a game, hm?" You could only nod, letting him rest his chin on your shoulder as he focused on the TV. But, one of his hands slowly reached down, playing the hem of your top before moving down to your clothed clit. You hissed at his sudden move, drawing all the members' attention on you.

"Don't fucking move." He warned you with a firm tone. "Or they will know Everything." You could only bite your lips, allowing him to stir your desire once again.

"Good girl, so good for daddy." His low whispers echoed in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Now, you know. You could never, never, escape.

tag list: @angelsaway, @yeosangcutie0615, @monsta-x-jagi

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