#double o arch

[thomaswaynewolf]

[eternal--returned]

eternal--returned ֍ Double O Arch, Moab, Utah (2018)

[stillebesat]

[cosycafune]

'CAN'T YOU HANDLE ME, BABY?'

0.8k words. sleeping with a man, Toji, double your age wasn’t on your bucket list. however, a tinder match up leaves you sexually curious — throwing away your sanity.

synopsis of acts: back shots, multiple creampies, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, orgasms, him fucking you, whilst watching through the mirror, size difference, big balls, teasing, taunting, crying, mentions of oral, picture taking, infedelity and potential more. not proofread.

NOTHING within you knew what you did to end up here, struggling to take the man that you met on plain, old Tinder. A cum bucket wasn’t your first thought, even if you were a bratty mess.

A writhing mess, you’re mindlessly arched — Toji’s thick, heavy walls slapping against your filled cunt. Strings of thick, warm cum had filled you for hours, but Toji wasn’t willing to let you go. Unable to cry out anymore, consumed by Toji’s brutal pace, your body quivers heavily.

Not a sound fled from your lips, simply broken moans that barely surfaced — a symbol of your worn out self. To you, finding a man on a dating site, like this was extremely rare. However, nothing within you could decline the bulky, gruff, athletic man who kindly matched with a frail, doll-like you. No matter your weight, you still remained something miniscule, in need of conquering before Toji.

“Toji, can’t…last,” Stuffed effortlessly with Toji’s ropes of cum, his thick cock mashing your insides, you falter upon the ample bed with your strained words.

A large, overwhelming pile of saliva remains upon the sheets while Toji grins at you collapsing upon the blankets, being sure to drill into a quivering you. Shit, his ample smile never once faded within the mirror — a wicked grin licking upon his features with every ample thrust.

Innately, Toji’s girth exceeded anything you had ever experienced before, along with his length. Therefore, taking him for this long completely consumed you. Nonetheless, you never listened to your internal thoughts — warning yourself that you couldn’t handle him.

Even with him so deeply within your stomach, pulverising you, your cunt desperately sang his rough praises. Even as your beaten upon bubble butt weakly remains up, Toji can’t help but roughly steady your hips — colliding with a silently moaning you with glee.

Never had you been so fanciful with men who remain significantly older, but you couldn’t help but grind against him when he first entered your home. The restraint you once garnered wavered the moment Toji aligned his ample cock against your lips, throat fucking you recklessly for an hour. Wickedly, he tore into you immensely — so pleased with a teary, bubble-lipped you still yearning to take more. Fat globs of tears streamed down your face, but you couldn’t help but continue to let him throat fuck you — taking a picture and sending it to your toxic boyfriend.

Even whilst you almost choked, his cock lewdly smacking against your lips, Toji contently pushed you into intaking more. To you, you knew he discovered sadistic pleasure in seeing a naked, kneeling you — scattered with a sea of hickeys — obediently before his cock. Seeing you worship ever vein, the beads of cum that spew, the length of it, your battering doe eyes, completely consumed Toji immensely.

“Shit, I know you can…take it!” Toji bellows as he continues to flaunt his almost unbearable sexual drive, his sculpted hips prompting lewd sounds to flow from your squelching cunt. Squelching sounds cut through the serenity of the room, along with the straggled sounds that flee from your lips.

“‘Can’t believe you’ve been taking it…this long,” Knowing you’re flowing with Toji’s cum, even though you’re still being slip open by him, Toji grins with unfathomable glee.

“Fhm,” Wordlessly, exhausted, Toji softly tugs on your hair — forcing you to admire your teary, mascara-stained features in the posed mirror.

“A mess, and I’ve barely started,” Scoffing with his murmurs, Toji hums whilst your features are out of focus — completely corrupted by his cock.

“‘Can’t you… handle me, baby?” Grunting, feeling your walls tighten for the millionth time, Toji’s question falls pointless to a cumming you.

“Ohh,” Only bringing yourself to mutter something so useless, Toji realises the only thing holding up your conquered physique is his thick, veiny arm.

“Mhm! Yes!” Picking up his pace, Toji bellows while his ample balls bash against your buzzing clit — pushing you down on the bed.

“Ahhh!” Finding might to cry out, you gasp at Toji’s body weight falling upon you whilst he thrusts his deepest — pushing you further down on the bed.

“You’re…cute,” Moments away from finishing, Toji thrusts his deepest within you — his thick cock causing you to let out a struggled gasp.

“S-So…deep,” Muttering, Toji grins at your subtle coherency — drawing himself cumming his deepest within you once more.

“‘Better not…take birth control,” Remaining tattered, cum-stuffed vigorously, Toji admires his work — bringing his words to your ear.

“‘Didn’t stuff you…to not carry my…baby,” Not longing to pull out, Toji carves himself into moaning loudly through his words — his eyes rolling back at his cum shooting within your womb.

“Ngh!” Jolting at Toji’s bucket-load of cum punch your gut, you feel yourself accidentally come undone — endlessly filled with his prestige baby batter.

“Hm, weren’t you…saying you’d take me for hours?” Tiredly mumbling, Toji glances at an almost asleep you within the mirror — drool departing from your parted lips.

“Can’t you handle more of me, baby?” Desperation tinting Toji’s voice, he continues to conduct his slow pace — so content by the warmth of your clutching cunt.

do not modify or reupload any of my works. all works are written by me. all rights reserved; cosycafune. 2024.

[thisrots]

double ended

✧˖*°࿐ Vi x reader

; warnings: sex toys, cuffs, mommy kink, praise, pleading, squirting (nothing crazy), a bit of overstimulation, sub!vi / dom!reader

It was the end of a long day for Vi. She walked in and set her gauntlets down, rolling her neck. You understood how tiring it all was for her, and wanted to do something… different. She was usually the top, but today, you wanted to give her the best night of her life.

You smiled and walked up to her, wrapping your arms around her neck and kissing her softly. “Hi honey, long day?”

“Yeah,” Vi started, sighing. “You could say that.” Her eyes were tired as she looked into yours, squeezing your waist a little. You grabbed her hand and led her to the room.

“I have something for you, wanna see?” You asked, your heartbeat picking up. Her eyebrow raised as she was being dragged into the room.

“What? Of course I wanna see.” She responded, her eyes lighting up a little. You sat her down on the bed, pulled out a box, and rummaged around in it. She tried to peek into it, but you flicked her forehead to get her away.

“Ow! Was that part of the surprise?” She asked, rubbing her forehead.

You rolled your eyes and snickered. “What a baby! That did not hurt.”

“Hurry uuuupppp!” Vi whined, flopping down on the bed, shutting her eyes. You slowly pulled out some handcuffs, a vibrator, and a double ended dildo. You crawled on top of her body, sat down on her lap, and put them in front of her face.

“Mm.. I like where this is going.” Vi said, smirking, eyes still shut as she ran her hands up your thighs.

You giggled. “Open your eyes, Vi.”

Her eyes slightly opened, focused on the objects in front of her, then widened as far as they’d go. She looked at the toys, then at you, then back at the toys. “Angel, what… what’s this?” She asked, her voice a little high pitched.

“Well… you always use my hole, yours never gets much attention. I was thinking we could, you know, do it at the same time.” Your smile was big and bright as you spoke.

Vi cleared her throat as she sat up, still staring at them in your hands. “…Okay. I could get with this,” She started. “I mean, you’ll be the one in the cuffs, right?”

You blinked, then shook your head. “No, all this is for you.”

Silence. Vi was wide eyed once again, gulping hard as those words slipped out of your mouth. “O-Okay, baby.” She responded, visibly nervous.

You smiled again as you pecked her cheek and took off her jacket, getting behind her and massaging her shoulders. They were tight, and not just because of the muscles. You traced her tattoos with your eyes as you did so.

She let out quiet groans of pain and pleasure as you felt her melt underneath your palms.

“See? Look how tense you are, let me take care of you tonight. Okay?” You said, whispering in her ear. You felt her skin prickle up with goosebumps, still kneading into her shoulders.

“Yeah,” Vi started, turning around and putting her hands together for you to cuff up. “Okay, angel.”

You wasted no time as your lips crashed into hers, tasting the saltiness of sweat left behind on them. Your tongues clashed against one another’s as Vi moaned against your mouth. You tugged her shirt up, took it off, then reached down and tightly secured the cuffs around her wrists. You continued to kiss her as she laid down and propped her head up against the pillows. You trailed down to her neck, kissing softly along the side of it as quiet moans escaped Vi’s mouth. You then made your way lower, stopping at her chest as you pulled her bra up, then began to kiss her breasts.

“H-Hey, angel, I think they’re a little—” Vi started, getting cut off by you slipping her nipple inside your mouth. Her back arched a little, a moan escaping her lips. “Sensitive!” You circled your tongue around it, using your other hand to pinch the right one. She squirmed and whined underneath you, hands twitching against the cuffs.

You tugged on her nipple a bit with your mouth before letting it go, still pinching the other. “What a sensitive girl, look how pink and hard they are for me. You must like this, huh?” You teasingly asked, her face red as she nodded.

“Y-Yeah, I like it.”

You kissed down her chest, then past her stomach, and stopping at the hem of her pants. You unzipped and slid them down, leaving her in nothing but boxers. You kissed up her thighs, making her wriggle and open them up more for you. You looked up at her and arched an eyebrow. “What is it? Do you want me to touch you… here?” You palmed at the wet spot on her boxers, making her gasp and look at you with desperation.

“Yes! Yes, right there.” Vi said, bucking her hips a bit.

You smiled at her neediness and pressed harder against her clit, looking for more of a reaction out of her. “Is that any way to ask me to touch you? What do we say?”

She groaned and threw her head back as you pressed onto it. “P-Please, Mommy. Can you please touch me?” She asked, voice tight and desperate, as she looked back into your eyes. Your brain short circuited upon hearing what she said. Heat spread out between your thighs as you heard her call you ‘Mommy’, something you were not expecting.

“What a good girl, asking so politely.” You slid off her underwear and exposed her already dripping cunt, looking like it was begging for any kind of touch. You grinned at the sight of Vi naked, sexually frustrated, and cuffed up. She was all yours to explore. You propped up her legs and spread open her thighs, kissing her sopping wet folds. A strangled sound escaped her lips as she thrusted upwards, trying to get her clit in your mouth.

“Impatient, aren’t you?” You cooed, raising an eyebrow at Vi as her face scrunched up in embarrassment.

“Please make me feel good. Please, Mommy, plea—” Vi’s begs were cut off by your tongue finally grazing over her poor, ignored clit. Her back arched, a broken moan releasing from her mouth. You held her thighs open, squeezing them as your tongue swirled around her clit, occasionally sucking on it to see her reaction. You loved the way she tasted, especially after a long day at work. Tangy, savory, a little salty. It made your mouth water as you licked up her juices. You opened your eyes and looked up. She was staring at you as you devoured her pussy, face full of pleasure and submission, which made you even more wet than you already were.

You suddenly pulled away from her and crawled up her body, hearing her cries for more. “What is it, baby? You want more?” You teased, her watery eyes staring into yours as she nodded.

“Yes! M-More, please more, please!” She pleaded, voice whiny and shaky.

“Okay, alright! Since you asked so nicely…” You moved aside and quickly took off your shirt, then came your shorts and panties, crawling back over her and exposing your own wetness in Vi’s face. You hovered over her chest, the heat from your soaking cunt making her pant like she needed you. You snickered at her flushed face, grabbing the dildo and just barely inserting it inside yourself. “Do you wanna see Mommy getting off a little?”

Vi’s face lit up like Christmas morning. She choked a little before spitting out a, “Yes! Yes I do!”

“Such an eager little thing…” You said, inserting the dildo in as far as it could go. You moaned out softly, throwing your head back as you slowly pumped the toy in and out of you. It made a squelching noise, one that was music to Vi’s ears. She stared the whole time, her gaze only budging to look up at your face, then quickly looking back down at the toy as it slid in and out so easily inside of you.

She whined, pouting as you picked up the pace and began to make circles around your clit with your other hand. You knew she was aching to touch you, to be touched, for you to give her anything and everything you wanted to. The thought of that made you wanna orgasm on the spot.

“Look what you’re doing to me, Violet—” You said as your slick dripped against her breasts, her eyes following the wetness as she let out a hungry moan.

“Mommy,” Vi muttered out, voice quiet. “Can you… put it inside me too, please?”

Her question made you stop mid stroke, smiling at your needy girlfriend. She looked so cute, asked so politely, you just couldn’t say no. “Of course I can, darling.”

You pulled the dildo out and moved down, pulling Vi’s thighs apart as far as they’d go, teasing her hole with the toy’s tip. She let out a few frustrated groans before you slowly began to push it inside her, making her gasp sharply.

“Oh, fuck—” Vi moaned out, back arched and eyes rolling to the back of her head. You weren’t sure if she’d felt this often, since you were the one usually taking it. Imagining this was her first time ever putting anything else inside other than yours or her own fingers—did something to you.

“There’s one rule,” You said, stopping the dildo halfway and making her head snap up to look at you, face full of neediness. You grabbed the vibrator, turned it on, then put it in her hands. “You hold this up to your clit while we fuck each other, if you let it go, I’ll stop touching you and force you to watch me come. Got it?”

“Okay, I got it,” She panted out, pressing herself against the toy further.

“Ah, ah— Okay, what?” You asked as you positioned yourself onto the toy, slowly inserting it inside yourself again.

“Fuck, sorry!” Vi fumbled out. “Okay, Mommy, I got it.”

“My good girl,” You said before sliding it inside yourself then pushing it fully inside Vi’s aching hole, both moaning out loud.

She immediately pressed the vibrator onto her clit as you began to buck your hips, causing the toy to slide up and down between the two of you. Her back was arched sharply, hands shaking as they held on tightly onto the vibrator, her hips starting to buck back and create a smooth motion that constantly hit your two g-spots. You stared at the toy as it stretched Vi’s damp hole out, her walls gripping tightly against it. You fucked against the toy harder at the sight, wishing you could feel her walls tightening around you instead.

“Feels, so, good!” Vi moaned out mid strokes, voice choppy and strained. You’d never seen her this submissive before, never seen her feel this good, you never wanted this to end.

“Yeah, baby, does it? Look at me.” You demanded, your holes practically slopping against each other and juices mixing together now from how deep in the toy was inside the two of you. Vi looked up towards you, opened her eyes, and stared as you fucked yourself against her. Her moans grew louder the more she looked, moving the vibrator up and down along her puffy clit.

“Mommy, it’s—it’s too much!” She cried out, legs beginning to tremble and want to close up. You held them open, fucking even harder against her, feeling yourself getting close every time she whined to you.

“But look how well you’re taking it, darling.” You reached over to the vibrator and sped up the setting. Vi threw her head back, moans turning into screams as her wetness dripped down and met your hole. “You’re making Mommy feel so amazing, you know that?” Your voice was husky but controlled, unlike Vi, who was a ball of whimpers, cries, and moans.

“Am I? A-Am I doing good, Mommy?” Her sentence broken, barely coming out as the intense pleasure took over her brain. You looked her up and down. She was sprawled out, eyes full of desire. She was a blubbering, sweaty, needy mess; and you loved it.

Her hips thrusted forward and hit your spot harshly, making a breathy, loud moan slip out of you. “Yes! Oh, just like that! You’re being such a good girl for Mommy!”

Vi continued to move the way you liked, trying oh so hard to be the best girl she could be for you. Even when being submissive, she still thought about your pleasure first. “I-I think I’m close—” Vi managed to mutter out between desperate moans, her thighs quivering.

“You think, or you know?” You questioned, noticing as her hips bucked harder against the toy.

She nodded quickly, “Y-Yes! Mommy! I’m gonna come!”

“Ask me.” You instructed, feeling yourself closer now too.

Vi’s puppy dog eyes stared into yours, filled with tears, “Please! Please let me come! Please, Mommy, please, I can’t hold it back, please!” She cried out, hot tears streaming down her face as she did her very best to hold it back until you said so.

You smirked at the sight. Waited a couple seconds to savor the moment, then, “Come for me then, darling. Show Mommy what you got.”

As soon as those words slipped out of your mouth, Vi’s back arched as far as it’d go, legs opened up further, and she moaned out, “Fuck, Mommy!”

You suddenly felt a sharp, warm wetness hitting you. As you quickly looked down, you saw Vi squirting along your cunt, making your jaw drop for just a second. That’s when you felt it. You threw your head back, shut your eyes tightly, and moaned, “Violet!” as you reached your orgasm. You felt your come slip out and slobber over the toy, Vi staring at you as you did so. You panted as your head slowly made its way back up and cracked your eyes open, meeting Vi’s gaze.

Her eyes were the size of dinner plates, face full of embarrassment. “Fuck, fuck, I-I think I peed.” She said, her voice trembling. You giggled as you slipped the toy out of yourself, then her, and took the vibrator out of her hands.

“No, honey. That just means you felt really good,” You said as you undid her cuffs, rubbing the red marks they left behind. “It made me finish.”

“Really?” She said between pants, looking proud of herself.

You nodded as you made your way over to her, kissed her forehead, and held her between your chest. She nuzzled in your breasts, holding one in her hand as she closed her eyes.

“You did so good for me, baby,” You cooed as your hands ran through her hair. “Mommy’s so proud.”

You felt Vi’s face heat up against your skin, looking up at you. “T-Thanks, Mommy.”

You held her face and kissed it softly, melting into her lips.

[divadepreshawn]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝?

Summary: Derek notices small gestures of affection from Hotch.

Aaron Hotchner × fem!reader

mention of s/n only once

You look at Morgan with an incredulous expression.

"You're exaggerating," you say as you shake your head.

Morgan smiles and clicks his tongue, pointing his index finger at you, "I'm not, and I think deep down you know that's true."

Morgan spent the whole morning teasing you, it all started when you got together to discuss a new case and Hotch sat next to you.

Which, by the way, was normal.

But Derek smiled at you in a way that made one of your eyebrows arch, you were confused, why the hell is he smiling like that when he has those files in front of him?

You decided not to think about it and focus on the case.

"We leave in 30 minutes," Hotch says as he stands up and puts the files in his bag, he turns to you and speaks in a lower voice, "This city is pretty cold, you should bring sweaters and some kind of nasal decongestant."

You blink in surprise at his suggestion "Um, sure… Thanks for letting me know", your nose was always stuffy and your hands were always cold, but how did he know that?

You watch as he gives a slight nod and walks away, as you turn to gather your things you can see the same annoying smile on Morgan.

"You know honey, I'm noticing a funny pattern here"

"Oh shut up" You say in a playful tone.

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You listened to Hotch, but damn, you didn't think you were going to do pole dancing on Santa's lap, your nose is red, your hands are two degrees away from amputation and you can feel the gears in your brain stopping working.

Hotch is the first to notice your state, he watches you but doesn't say anything.

As soon as you step inside the local police station a sigh of relief leaves your lips, you were still cold but just the fact that the biting wind wasn't in your face was already a victory.

The team settles into a room, after getting rid of the layers of your sweater you sit next to Spencer to look for patterns in the victims.

He starts to ramble on about the meanings of each tulip color and how it possibly has something to do with the way the victims were discarded when a cup is discreetly placed in front of you, you look at the cup confused, raising your gaze only to see Hotch walk away without saying a single word.

You hear Morgan laugh, he lightly taps Emily's shoulder and whispers something in her ear, her eyes fall on the cup and then to you and then to Hotch, her mouth opens in a perfect O as she nods.

Whatever these two are up to, you choose to have peace.

You take a small sip of your coffee, sighing in relief that you're finally starting to warm up.

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Spencer's theory was right, in the end the tulips were even linked to the victims' choices.

The team is on the jet heading home when Spencer decides to play cards and forces you to participate.

You were next to Spencer and facing Hotch while Emily was next to you.

"Oh, I can't believe you did that," you protest indignantly

"What can I say? I'm just good, are you going to double the bet?" Hotch asks slightly amused

You smile defiantly at him "I'll double, I'd rather do that than let a man from Washington make my grandfather turn in his grave"

Hotch opened his mouth in complete shock before starting to laugh

Spencer exchanged a look with Emily before they looked at you, you shrugged going back to the game.

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Now back to the beginning of the conversation.

"I don't know what you're talking about"

"Come on, admit it, if you asked him to move a mountain he'd put on your boots" Derek says with a smug smile.

"Derek, you're being ridiculous." You try to argue.

"I'll go further, if you asked him to stop a river from flowing, he'd build one- no, two dams." Spencer says as he leans against your desk.

"Even you, prettyboy?" You're starting to think everyone is hallucinating.

Spencer shrugs with a small smile.

"But they're right, honey, if you asked him to change his religion, he'd probably spend Sundays with you." Emily says as she approaches you, resting her hand on your shoulder.

Derek gave you the brightest smile you'd ever seen.

"Tell us, Y/N, how does it feel to be adored?"

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I don't know/remember where Aaron was born but I know he graduated from Washington

sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language :)

[wheresarizona]

Learning to Live Part 35

summary: It’s your wedding night, and you’re finally alone with your husband in the privacy of your hotel suite. Not that you care much about privacy when things get hot and heavy on the balcony.

pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader

rating: E (18+!! No y/n, alternating POV, explicit smut, age gap (about ten years), two extremely horny newlyweds, Husband Javier Peña, dirty talk, oral sex (f + m receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie(s), rough sex, loud balcony sex, exhibitionism, romantic bathtub sex, BREEDING KINK (so much), praise kink, marriage kink, love kink, ring kink, drinking, being buzzed, love confessions, body worship, body insecurity (and Javier making you feel better), cuteness aggression, relationship insecurity, romantic comedy, domestic bliss, Javier with kids, a new POV)

word count: 20k+

a/n: Hey! I hope you remember me. Lmao Let me just say the last six months have been literal hell, and my life is still in shambles. On a positive note, I’m no longer working 60-80 hours a week, and I now have time to write. A couple of notes about this chapter. It takes place in January of 1999. With inflation, $150 in 1999 would be $300 today. A big thanks to @devineconjuring for betaing! Also, thank you to @juletheghoul for checking out my Spanish. Thank you for reading!

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

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The San Agustín de Laredo Historic District, located downtown along the banks of the Rio Grande River, was where the original city of Laredo was established in 1755. The area had many buildings dating back to the 1800s, like the district’s namesake, San Agustín Cathedral—a place you were familiar with as it happened to be the church Chucho and many members of your new family attended and was where he married your mother-in-law some forty-plus years ago.

La Posada was the fanciest hotel in town since it offered room service and had valet parking. It was just down and across the old, narrow brick road from your family’s church. The tall, white bell tower could even be seen looming high in the sky from the hotel’s entrance.

The inn, opened in 1961, had its own rich history as it occupied the original high school building that was constructed back in 1916 and was surrounded by some 19th-century structures—one was a former convent, and another was the Capitol building for the short-lived Republic of the Rio Grande. Most of the buildings in the area showed Spanish and Mexican influences, including the hotel, with its rounded arches at entryways and windows, thick stucco coating the outer walls, and many balconies, courtyards, columns, and elaborately carved doors.

Javi could’ve rented you a regular room at La Posada or even something at the Motel 6 off the highway, and you would’ve been happy as a clam. Your dear, sweet, wonderful husband, however, didn’t think either of those options was good enough for you and somehow managed to book the ever-elusive Presidential Suite; this was the room that a person with any kind of notoriety stayed in when they were passing through the Rio Grande Valley—think B-list celebrities, like Matthew McConaughey, or campaigning politicians.

Most of the hotel was only two stories high, but one stretch had a third level dedicated to a few luxury suites, including where you were staying. Through the double doors of your one-bedroom accommodations was a small entryway that led to the living room featuring a built-in bar—a shelf with a variety of liquors, a countertop with different kinds of glasses, and a cocktail shaker—a sitting area with an entertainment system, and French doors that opened to a private balcony that had views of Mexico across the river. There was a kitchenette, a four-person dining table, and a half bath. Through another set of double doors, the bedroom had a massive two-postered king-size bed, an en suite containing an oversized whirlpool tub, and a shower that could easily fit two people. Every room had beamed ceilings, the wall connected to another suite was made of brick, the color scheme of everything stuck to earthy tones that complemented the exposed beams and wooden furniture, and the art on the walls depicted beautiful river scenery.

No matter how many times you asked, your husband refused to reveal how much two nights in such splendor put him back.

And here you were in the bedroom, you and Javi stripped of your formal attire on the bed that he had the forethought to put a towel down on to keep things from getting too messy. You could not stop yourself from loudly moaning at how good it was; your husband had you in heaven with how he was filling you up, and you were finally at the point of feeling stuffed.

He was beside you, so close your bodies touched. “Yeah?” Javi purred. "You like that? You want more?"

You had to swallow before you could speak, shaking your head as you replied, “God, it’s so good, but I don’t want to get sick.”

“Okay, baby.” He kissed your cheek. “Relax while I clean up.”

Your husband carefully took the paper plate that you had practically licked clean of every crumb of wedding cake and the plastic fork you’d been using. Sitting crisscross on the mattress, you were dressed the same as Javier in nothing but a big, white, fluffy, hotel-provided bathrobe. On the towel in front of you were two more sets of dirtied plates and utensils from the leftovers the two of you ate, which Javi picked up as he got off the bed, heading out of the room to the small kitchen to dispose of them.

Earlier, when your husband revealed the surprise that you’d be staying in this suite for two nights, he told you all of the places in the room he planned to fuck you. From those promises, you imagined that he would toss you onto the bed upon arriving here and have his way with you. What actually happened was you got to the door, and Javi made you laugh when he lifted you over his shoulder like a caveman and carried you across the rented room’s threshold. He did throw you onto the big bed, where the two of you made out for some minutes. It just didn’t go any further because your sweetheart of a husband was aware you were hungry, and that made his biggest priority getting you comfortable and feeding you. So, the first thing he did was strip you out of your dress, the man unable to keep himself from taking a couple of minutes to admire the lacy thong you’d been wearing before he got you naked and had you join him in the shower. Aside from some groping and a little kissing, there was hardly any fooling around since he was so focused on taking care of you, which was sweet.

After that, Javi heated up some of the food from your wedding that the Murphys were kind enough to drop off prior to your arrival since they were staying at the same hotel, and the two of you had a little feast on the bed. Now you were nice and full, but not overly so that you felt sick, just enough that you were relaxed and a little sleepy—a food coma, if you will.

Many pillows were on the bed, and you moved some behind you to prop yourself up and lie back on. You grabbed your almost-empty complimentary bottle of water from the mattress beside you, unscrewed the cap, and took a drink.

“Cielito?” your husband called from the other room. “Do you want anything else to drink?”

The options included the bottle of champagne the hotel gifted you to celebrate your marriage, something from the living room bar, tap water, or the two of you could trek to the floor below to raid the vending machine in nothing but your robes and the slippers that were with them when you got there.

His question made you smile as you re-capped your water, stretching your arm to set the bottle on the bedside table. “No, babe,” you answered loud enough for him to hear. “I’m good—get back in here!”

He returned seconds later, his knees sinking into the mattress as he crawled onto it, smiling. Javi made his way over to you, and when he was at your left side, he wormed his arm behind your back, the other over your front to hold you close, his head nestled on your robe-covered chest. After getting comfortable, he sighed happily, closing his eyes with a little smile on his lips.

“Javi?”

“Yes, mi esposa (my wife)?”

The title made your spine tingle.

“God, I’ll never tire of you calling me that.”

“Good, ‘cause I’ll never tire of calling you it, my beautiful wife.” He quickly kissed over your heart, then rested his head on you again. “What were you gonna ask?”

“Oh, right. I know we should be having the dirtiest, nastiest sex known to man right now—” Javi snorted. “—but, since we just ate, are you cool with us hanging out for a little bit while the food digests?”

“Are you okay with cuddling, or am I hurting your stomach?” He lifted his arm off your belly.

“Cuddling sounds wonderful.” You lowered his arm back to where it was, resting your palm on his wrist.

“Okay.” He nuzzled you with his face. “Would you, uh, want to play with my hair…?”

“You can bet your cute little ass I do.” That made him chuckle. Your fingers pressed into his hair, playing with the soft strands and lightly scratching at his scalp, which earned you a noise from the back of his throat that came close to a purr.

“How was your day?” you asked.

“Fucking amazing. How about yours?”

“Fucking amazing, though talk about our bad sex luck—which reminds me, thank god your dad does his laundry on Saturdays. When we return the Mustang, I need you to distract him while I disinfect his laundry room.”

Javi groaned at the reminder of hearing his cousin and your best friend Robyn fucking in said room. “I don't wanna think about that.”

“And you think I do? I just don’t want our father coming across a condom wrapper, or god forbid a used condom, when he goes to do his chores. You know as well as I do that he’d tell his sisters, and it’d be the chisme (gossip) everyone is talking about Sunday at tía María’s.”

Your hand was still on his head, curling strands of his hair absentmindedly around your pointer finger.

“Los chismosos (The gossipers),” he grumbled. “Hold on, why do we care if he finds evidence someone fucked in there?”

“Um, because they’ll all assume it was us, and I do not feel like announcing to our entire family that I exclusively get rawed and creampied.”

“Why would you announce that…?”

“Do you want everyone to think we’re horny newlyweds who fucked in a laundry room because they couldn’t keep it in their pants until they got home?”

“We are horny newlyweds who couldn’t keep it in their pants until they got home. We almost did fuck in that laundry room.”

“Sure, except if we had, we wouldn’t have left behind any evidence. We’re not sloppy, thank you very much. I mean, I know a lot about Robyn’s sex life—like a lot—but I don’t know how discreet she is. So, we’ll need to make sure nothing was left behind.”

“I say, if they’re gonna be rude and leave shit behind, we just throw them under the bus…”

Your hand stopped moving in his hair.

“You mean the woman who convinced me to let you fuck my ass?” you asked. “The woman who’s held down the fort while you and I fooled around on my lunch countless times? The woman who covered while I got you off in an on-call room at the hospital? The woman who has had our backs so many times I’ve lost count? That’s the woman you wish to throw under a bus?”

There was a pause, and you heard him gulp.

“I’ll tell Pop that I think one of the Mustang’s tires is low on air,” he replied, “so he has to go with me outside while you take care of the crime scene.”

His response had you smiling. “Thank you,” you said, leaning forward to kiss his head.

You resumed playing with his hair.

“No need to thank me. You, uh, had some good points.”

“I know I did.”

“I haven’t had a chance to see your nails.” His hand moved to grab yours that’d been on his wrist, bringing it up to his face to look at your white-tipped fingernails. “Look at those, they’re fucking gorgeous.”

“Thank you. It’s a French manicure, and I thought they’d look really good with my dresses.”

“They’re perfect.” He kissed the back of your hand and continued holding it when his arm relaxed over your stomach again.

For a minute, it was quiet as you both lay there, your fingers slipping through the soft brown waves on his head in comfortable silence.

“Did I tell you what Olivia said before they left?” Javi asked.

“Um, I don’t think so?”

“She confused the fuck out of me—she thinks I play baseball.”

“What?”

“She gave me a pep talk…?” he said it like a question.

“A pep talk? About what?”

“Something about how she knows I secretly play baseball and that I shouldn’t be embarrassed I’m bad at it because I’ll get better the more I practice. To be honest, it was adorable, and I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I don’t play.”

“That is extremely random. Why would she think you play baseball?”

“I have no fucking clue. I’ve been thinking back on my conversations with her, and I don’t think we’ve ever talked about baseball.”

“Maybe she misremembered something or misunderstood something her parents said? No clue why Steve and Connie would be talking about you and baseball, though.”

“I don’t know, either. They’re both aware I’m a swimmer and played some soccer.”

“True. Who knows where Olivia got the idea.” You shrugged a shoulder.

“Yeah…”

“It’s gonna bother the fuck out of you until you figure it out, isn’t it?”

“A little.”

“We’ll ask Steve and Connie tomorrow at dinner, Detective Peña.” The Murphys were flying home the following evening, and the plan was to have an early dinner at the hotel restaurant before they left.

“Okay, Mrs. Detective Peña.”

“Oh my god!” you gasped. “I am Mrs. Detective Peña now!” you replied excitedly.

“Yes, you are.” The smile was evident in his voice. “You’re my wife.”

“Yes, I am, and you are my husband.”

“The best fucking thing anyone has called me.”

His response had you smiling.

It sometimes caught you off guard how much Javier loved you since the love you felt for him ran so deep that it consumed every fiber of your being. It didn’t seem possible that anyone could love you the same, not when your heart was more his than yours, yet Javi did. His devotion knew no bounds, and he saw you for everything you were and loved you despite it all—to him, you were perfection. No one would ever love you more, and you would never love anyone else more because he was yours, and you were his; fate, destiny, the writing in the stars led you to each other, and now your lives were so intertwined that his heart was your heart, his hands were your hands, his smile was your smile, he belonged to you as you belonged to him.

Enough time had passed for the food in your stomach to settle, and now you could acknowledge the want burning low in your belly, making your pussy drip with arousal. Something about how happy Javi was that he vowed to spend the rest of his existence with you was such a big turn-on that it was time for things to heat up so you could give him the sloppiest blow job to show your appreciation—except, you wanted it to be spicier than usual.

“My wonderful, perfect husband?”

“Yes, my wonderful, perfect wife?”

“You know what we should do right now?”

“Depends—has your food digested?”

“Yep.”

Javi jostled you as he moved his arm from under your back, rising up on it in order to meet your eyes, his plush lips smirking under his perfectly trimmed mustache. “In that case, have the dirtiest, nastiest sex known to man?” And it became evident you’d been together a while when he wiggled his eyebrows at you as you’d done to him many times before.

“You’re such a dork,” you giggled, playfully pushing his shoulder.

“That isn’t a no,” he pointed out.

“No, it’s not.” You shook your head. “But I was thinking we could get some fresh air out on the balcony.��� It was your turn to wag your brows at him. Javi chuckled, giving you a big smile.

“Champagne?” he asked. “Or should I get out the salt and limes for tequila?”

“The room came with salt and limes…?”

“No—I brought the salt, limes, and our bottle of tequila from the apartment.”

He also brought you both overnight bags and somehow smuggled your toiletries out of his dad’s house–you’d taken them to Chucho’s the prior night when you stayed over, and you were pretty sure it was Connie who did the smuggling. She probably had Steve deliver your little bag with the food before he returned to their room, which Javi assured you was on the other side of the hotel and out of hearing range to your suite.

Your eyes rounded. “Because you knew I’d need liquid courage to fuck around outside?”

He gave you a look like the answer was obvious. “Yeah?”

“That is so unbelievably romantic. Horny, but romantic.” Grabbing a handful of his robe, you pulled him forward as you leaned toward him, slotting your lips with his, kissing him; he smelled like the floral rose petal-scented shampoo he used in the shower, and he tasted sweet from the bites of wedding cake you shared with him.

When you broke apart, you were both smiling.

“You get the goods,” you told him, “and I’ll meet you outside—I gotta pee really quick.”

“Okay,” he replied and pecked you on the nose.

The bathroom was on the other side of the room, which meant you had to go around the bed after you got off of it, Javi following you and smacking your ass. There wasn’t much of a smack with the thick robe in the way, but it still made you giggle. He headed for the bedroom door, and as you continued your journey to the en suite, something shiny on his bedside table caught your attention and made you frown.

“Babe?”

He hadn’t left the room yet, standing at the doorway.

“Yeah?”

“Does the gun have to hang out on your table, or can we put it in a drawer or something?” It was Chucho’s small revolver that he kept in the Mustang. Your husband didn’t want to risk it being stolen, so he brought it up to the room.

“Put it in the drawer.”

“Is it safe to touch…?” Unlike Javi, you did not have a lot of experience with firearms aside from treating many gunshot wounds when you worked in a big city emergency room.

“Would I ask you to touch it if it wasn’t safe?”

“No…”

“Exactly. The safety’s on.”

“That’s good,” you replied and moved closer. “I was worried about you shooting your cute little butt off when you shoved it in the back of your pants.” It was bewildering when he got out of the car and casually tucked the gun into the waistband of his slacks.

A huff of air left his nose. “Fifteen years with the DEA, and I never shot myself in the ass.”

Opening the drawer, the only thing in it was a bible. You carefully picked up the revolver by its grip with two fingers like an old, smelly sock and set it atop the book. “Yeah,” you replied, “‘cause you had the sexy tac-vest-thingy with the holster on the front.”

“I didn’t always wear a tac-vest...”

“What?” you replied, shutting the drawer and spinning around to face him. His fluffy, white robe reached down to mid-thigh on him, and it was tied closed, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the doorframe. “So, you’d wear a holster on your hip?” you asked.

You thought back to the pictures you’d seen of your husband in Colombia, trying to remember if he was wearing a holster in any of them.

His expression turned guilty. “No…”

The realization hit you. “A butt gun, Javier? You’d just walk around with a gun at your ass? That is not safe.”

One of his eyebrows rose. “The safety was on?”

“Okay? But even with the safety on, it’s still dangerous. I had so many people come through my ER because they didn’t properly holster their weapons. One dude had it in the front of his waistband, and when he went to pull it out, it accidentally discharged into his thigh and hit his femoral artery—dead on arrival.” Javi grimaced. “And don’t get me started on all of the butts I had to look at and treat because they carried like you and weren’t as lucky. Do you think I enjoy looking at strangers' butts?”

“I mean…”

“Us checking out bootylicious babes in San Antonio and Miami does not count, Javier. These butts I had to look at for work were mostly men’s butts, and I can tell you right now, they were not anywhere close to how cute yours is, and dear god, were a lot of them hairy—which, I am so thankful you are not a super hairy guy, and I really do appreciate that you trim your pubes.”

“It’s the least I can do.” He shrugged.

Your eyes lowered to his crotch, picturing what the white garment covered, your mouth watering at the thought of blowing him. Javi cleared his throat to get your attention, your eyes snapping up to his that sparkled in adoration.

“What were we talking about?” you asked.

Javi snorted. “You were getting on my ass about how I carry a gun.”

“Oh, yes—stop being dumb and protect what little ass you have.”

Javier was not going to reveal that there was a gun in the back of his waistband most of the time they went horseback riding.

“I’ll start using a holster,” he said. “But, if we’re going out on Pop’s land, you can’t complain if you see me carrying; I know guns make you uncomfortable, but our safety is more important.”

“Okay.” Her shoulders shrugged.

His eyebrows pulled together—he was expecting more resistance. “Really?”

“Yeah? You told me about all of the dangerous animals out there, and I’ll feel safer if you’re packing—that’s packing as in a gun on your person, not the big dick in your pants.” She winked at him, and Javier huffed in amusement.

“Thank you for the clarification. You’re taking this a lot better than I expected…”

She walked up to him with a grin and threw her arms around his neck, Javier immediately pulling her into him. “It’s marriage, baby,” she said. “We gotta compromise sometimes.”

“Yeah?” He smiled, his head moving forward to rub the tip of her nose with his. He whispered, “Does that mean you’ll let me teach you how to shoot?” Something she’s always refused.

“I don’t know—will it make you happy?”

“Yes.”

“Then fine, you can teach me.”

He pulled back to look at her. “Really?”

“Yes, because I am an amazing wife who loves my husband dearly.”

He grinned. “You’re a fucking incredible wife whose husband loves you more than anything.”

Javier didn’t give her a chance to respond; his lips crushed into hers, kissing her tenderly, hoping she could feel how happy she made him.

She really was a fucking incredible wife.

When they parted, he gave her another smack on the ass and told her to hurry, his wife giggling as they went their separate ways.

The balcony was covered, with a beamed ceiling overhead and walls on either end to offer some semblance of privacy—the railing was made of wrought iron, the vertical bars twisting like vines into delicate loops and swirls. The only furniture out there was a wooden bistro table situated against the stucco-coated wall with two armless chairs on both sides facing the river. The outdoor light was too bright, and Javier thought it would bring too much attention to them, so he settled on what light filtered out from the living room through the French doors’ windows and the brightness of the moon in the clear sky, illuminating the space in a gentle glow.

He was sitting back in one of the chairs, his legs slightly spread and his arm resting on the table beside him. On the tabletop was the half-drunk bottle of tequila, ziplock bag of cut-up lime wedges, and salt shaker he brought from their apartment, along with a shot glass he grabbed from their rented room’s bar that he washed himself to ensure it was clean.

The night air was cool and a little crisp as he looked out toward the Rio Grande, where, in the distance, he could see the lights of Nuevo Laredo across the way in Mexico. For some unknown reason—maybe being outside or how emotional the day was—Javier was craving a cigarette; even after quitting almost two years ago, he still felt the itch for nicotine here and there, and he’d done pretty well not giving in to the temptation, mainly because there was someone in his life now who distracted him from it. The French doors opened, and immediately, his head was turning in their direction to see his wife coming out.

His beautiful distraction.

He couldn’t keep himself from smiling even if he tried. She looked so comfortable in her robe that matched his, her face lighting up when her eyes landed on him. Her expression took him back to the first time he saw that beaming smile after she handed him the perfect tomato: that was the moment she pulled him in and made him want to know more about the sweet woman who was easily excitable over fresh produce. It was like meeting the sun—bright, warm, happy, and he wanted to bask in her rays and see that smile every day for the rest of his life. Better yet, he wanted to be the reason for that smile, and now he was proud to say he was.

Only a couple of minutes had passed since the last time he saw her, and when she made it over to him, she asked, “Is this seat taken?” She nodded at his knee closest to her, and without waiting for his answer, she sat down on his thigh with her legs between his and her arms around his neck, Javier pulling her closer.

His head was tilted up to look at her, his hand reaching to cradle her face in his palm, staring her in the eyes, smiling.

“I’ve got something else you can sit on,” he said.

“Javier,” she gasped. Her fingers went to his forehead, brushing stray strands of his hair off of it. “I’m gonna need a shot first, maybe two—actually, two for sure, no more than three because, as we know, one shot, two shot, three shot, four-the-love-of-god-stop-crying.”

He chuckled. “Two shots then, pero, quiero que mi esposa me bese primero (but, I want my wife to kiss me first).”

“Cualquier cosa por mi esposo (Anything for my husband).”

Javier couldn’t get enough of her calling him that.

He pulled her down until their lips were a hair's breadth apart. “Dilo otra vez (Say it again),” he rasped.

“Cualquier cosa por mi esposo (Anything for my husband),” she whispered.

“¿Quién soy yo (Who am I)?”

“Mi esposo (My husband).”

“Sí, chingados que soy (Yes, I fucking am),” he growled, pressing his mouth to hers.

The kiss was anything but chaste with how Javier plunged his tongue between her perfect lips to tangle with hers. His heartbeat sped up, the blood pumping through his heated body and traveling to his hardening cock. He moved his hand from her face down to her bare knee, tracing his fingertips up under her robe over the soft skin of her thigh to her ass to squeeze a handful of it.

There wasn’t the same pent-up need like their kiss in the Mustang when he parked them in the field. This one was instead full of promise for their night ahead, making the anticipation swell that they could now take their time and truly enjoy each other since they already dealt with the sexual frustration of being cockblocked multiple times when they were frantic in the car.

Javier savored the feeling of her mouth on his, how their tongues intertwined, and the sweet taste of her lips. He savored her moans and her fingers combing up through the hair from the nape of his neck to the back of his head, where she clutched it tight in her fists; sparks danced along his spine and collected at the base of it, feeding the fire of his arousal that had him half-hard already and wanting to touch more of his wife’s body.

His wife. His beautiful, smart, sexy, amazing wife.

They kissed until they were breathless, both panting when they separated. He nibbled on her chin, his mouth blazing a path along the underside of her jaw until he was at the taut skin of her neck, nipping and kissing down the column of it.

“Oh, god,” she gasped when he sucked at her pulse point, and it made him smile. She lightly tugged his head back by the hair to make him look at her. “Shots.”

“Yeah?” He squeezed her ass.

“Fuck yes.”

“Okay, baby. Ladies first.”

He got his arm out from behind her back, his other hand leaving her ass as his upper body twisted slightly toward the table to grab the bottle of tequila, unscrewing the cap and pouring the liquor into the clear shot glass. Then he opened the bag of limes and picked up the salt shaker, his attention returning to her.

“Where do you want the salt?” Usually, a pinch was licked off the hand between the thumb and forefinger, but he had other ideas for his turn.

She worked open the tie on his robe and pushed it away to reveal his chest, his arm going back behind her again to give her room. “Here,” she said, bending her head to lave at his nipple with her tongue.

“Fuck,” Javier breathed, swallowing hard—it looked like she had the same idea.

While she sprinkled the salt on him, he took a lime wedge out of the bag and gently bit the rind, holding it between his teeth.

Cielito set the shaker down to grab the shot glass and raised it. “Fuck the leather, fuck the lace, here’s to the one who sits on your face!”

The only reason he didn’t laugh was because immediately after she spoke, her face dipped down to suck the salt off his nipple—the shock of pleasure had the muscles in his thighs tensing. She quickly drank the tequila, her face pinching at the burn before she bit the lime out of his mouth.

The glass was back on the table, his wife setting the remnants of the fruit she sucked the juice from next to it.

“Woo!” she exclaimed. “One down, one to go.” She untied her robe and opened it, Javier’s eyes lowering to her bare tits.

His hand moved on its own accord, skating his large palm up her stomach to fondle her breast. He could hear her say something but didn’t make out the words. Her smaller hand came into view, and the snapping of her fingers ended his trance—he looked up at her. “Sorry?” he said.

She smiled. “I asked where you want the salt.”

“I think you know where I want the salt.” His tongue swiped along his bottom lip at the thought of getting his mouth on her tits.

“That’s why the robe is open.” She winked. “My guess was boobies or neck, and I see you’ve chosen the boobies, a tit for tit.”

“Don’t you mean a ‘tit for tat’?”

“No.” She shook her head. “A tit for tit works better in this situation.”

“I am so in love with you.”

“Good, ‘cause I am so in love with you.”

He took her breast into his palm and leaned his head forward, sucking her stiff nipple into his mouth. Her breath caught in her throat, the fingers on one of her hands going into his hair. Javier came off of her with a wet pop, her skin shining with his saliva. He shook some salt onto her, then poured himself a shot as she got a lime wedge.

“I expect a good toast,” she said. “No, ‘salud.’ Give me something raunchy that you and your guy friends would say in college, or you and Steve in Colombia.”

His eyebrow lifted. “Something raunchy Steve would say? The guy who doesn’t like us kissing in front of his kids?”

“Okay, you know what. The moment I said Steve, I realized the raunchiest thing he’d say before you guys drank would be cheers or bottoms up if he was feeling a bit scandalous. There’s gotta be shit you and your friends in college would say, though.”

He picked up the tiny glass that looked even smaller in his hand compared to hers and took a moment to think about what he could say. He’d never been much into toasting, and in college, they usually drank to getting laid or winning a swim meet. There was something he overheard years ago, down in Colombia, that an American tourist said that stuck with him. He just had to remember the wording…

She had the lime ready for him between her teeth, and he lifted the shot. “Here’s to love, here’s to honor; if you can’t come in her, come on her!”

Cielito was doing her best not to laugh. He sucked the salt off of her breast and shot back the tequila, the mineral lessening the initial burn—it was smooth with a sweetness of flavors, picking up vanilla and caramel and a hint of something oaky that was washed away by the sourness of the lime when he bit into it. The glass went back onto the table, along with used rind.

He looked at his wife. “How was that?” he asked, his hand around her back, squeezing her hip.

“Very good. I loved the play on words.”

“How are you feeling?”

She smiled at him. “Fucking amazing. Ready for round two?”

Javier mirrored her expression. “Where do you want the salt?”

This time, she salted his neck, and when she raised the glass, she said, “To us: may all of our ups and downs be in bed!”

Once again, he didn’t have a chance to chuckle before her tongue was licking up the sensitive skin of his neck, his eyes closing at how good it felt. The alcohol was warm in his belly, and he knew it’d take one more shot before he felt any of its effects—his wife would be feeling it any minute now.

For his turn, he chose her neck as well—a ‘tit for tit.’ He lifted the shot glass, keeping his gaze on hers, another lime wedge in her mouth for him. “To my wife, who I love more than anything. You are my forever and have made me the happiest man in the entire fucking world. This isn’t the best day of my life—it’s only one of them because I know there are many more ahead of us. Te amo, mi Cielito (I love you, my Cielito).”

Her eyes were misty, and he went through the steps—lick, drink, suck—she leaned his way, and he closed the distance, his tongue licking up the salty trail on her throat before he drank the tequila, then sucked the lime from between her lips. The moment her mouth was empty, she said, “Javier, how dare you say something so sweet when my toasts were gross.”

He spit the rind out onto the table with the others, the glass going bottom-up beside them. His hand went to the back of her neck, pulling her toward him. “I meant it all,” he replied, smashing his lips to hers.

His mouth muffled her moan—taking advantage of her parted lips, he licked inside, tasting the lime and sweet hints of tequila, their tongues dancing together as they had countless times before. His free hand gravitated to her tits, roughly palming one, then the other, pinching and rolling each of her pebbled nipples with his fingers.

Javier loved her breathy sounds.

The alcohol’s warmth was spreading through his body, his dick hard and throbbing, barely covered by his robe. His wife gave as good as she got, and she made him groan when she freed his length and wrapped her fingers around him, slowly pumping him up and down.

It was starting to heat up, and there was a list of things he wanted to do, but first, he needed to ensure she was comfortable. He detached his lips from hers, kissing the edge of her mouth, his nose bumping into hers.

“You good?” he asked. “Or another shot?”

“I’m good,” you answered and kissed his plush lips.

The booze had you feeling warm and tamped down your nerves. You were good, you were more than good, your cunt weeping with your need for him.

With the way your husband had been obsessing about eating your pussy all night, you knew that was the first thing he’d want to do, and you were curious to find out what he planned—was he going to sit you in the chair and get on his knees for you? Bend you over the railing and eat you out from the back? Or put you in the position he had you in earlier when you were interrupted, with your back against the wall and him kneeling at your feet? It was honestly a toss-up on what he would choose. Luckily, he didn’t make you wait long.

Javi’s mouth broke away from yours, grabbing your hand that was on him, ordering you, “Up.” You didn’t waste any time, rising to stand in front of him. He grunted as he got up with you, the seat creaking from his movements; he was so close to you that your bodies touched, your palm still in his—he tugged it to make you face him and have you chest to chest.

His eyes were dark with lust when they met yours. “I fucking need you,” he rasped, and suddenly those big mitts of his were framing your face, his lips finding yours. This kiss was fervent, urgent, his need evident as he turned you away from the table and backed you up into the wall beside the chair.

From how passionately he claimed your lips, it seemed his words had a double meaning: he needed you physically at this moment and needed you always in his life. He needed you in every way there was, and wasn’t it the same for you with him? You needed him in every way there was, too. Not only that, but you weren’t sure you’d be able to breathe without him; would your heartbeat cease without him? These were questions you never wanted to learn the answers to.

With your robed back pressed to the stucco wall, it was apparent he wanted to finish what he started earlier, and you were happy to oblige. The glow from the lights in the living room trickling out through the French doors’s windows, along with the moonlight, softly lit the balcony. Thankfully, it wasn’t bright enough for anyone to make out what was going on if they happened to look, and that, added with the tequila, eased any worries you had.

Your robe was untied, Javi shoving it open to reveal your entire naked front, the cool air causing goosebumps to prickle on your warm skin, your nipples to tighten. He kissed you hard one last time and then began his journey down your body. Earlier, when you arrived at the room, your husband was so focused on taking care of you that he didn’t get a chance to take his time to admire your bare figure—something you could tell he wanted to do badly when he was undressing you. Now, he could, the man worshiping you with his lips and hands, kissing and touching every bit of flesh he came into contact with; his palms mapped out your belly and hips, his mouth trailing down your neck to your chest, Javier whispering into your skin as he went, “You’re beautiful… you’re so fucking beautiful… I’m so lucky… fuck, I love you.”

He took your breasts into his hands, his head lowering to suck one of your pebbled buds into his mouth. The pleasure had you gasping and needing to touch him, your palms sliding under his robe to hold onto his waist. His teeth grazed over your stiff peak before he lightly bit it and tugged, making you loudly moan his name; he let it go and moved to the other, enveloping it in the warmth of his mouth, giving it the same attention.

Arousal was coating your inner thighs, the anticipation welling up inside of you—you wanted Javi’s face buried in your pussy as much as he wanted to do it.

Once he gave your tits an ample amount of attention, leaving your nipples and the skin around them glossy with spit, he continued making his way down the front of your body. As he lowered, so did his lips, his kisses all over your stomach imbued with his words of love. “So beautiful… I can’t wait to see you pregnant… you’re gonna look so good with my baby inside you… I love you so fucking much… you make me so happy.”

Even after all this time you’ve been together with Javi, it was still hard to accept that he truly found you beautiful. You knew he meant everything he said, but there were parts of your body you hated, parts that you could still recall word-for-word the negative comments your mother made about them, parts that were far from perfect that you couldn’t believe anyone would ever love. Except, there was someone who did love them—Javi. He genuinely loved every part of you, and he loved them all so reverently and with such conviction—like if he loved them enough, you would, too.

Maybe that would happen; maybe he’d help you break through the years of insecurity, and you would learn to love your imperfections—only time would tell. For now, you were finally to a point where you believed your husband when he told you how beautiful you were, and with his excitement over eventually seeing you pregnant, he’d helped calm your fears about the changes your body would go through.

He kneeled in front of you, grabbing handfuls of your ass while he placed a kiss on your mound. He put your leg over his shoulder to open you up, his fingers spreading apart your lower lips where you knew he could see how wet you were for him.

“Finally,” he whispered, and that was all the warning you got before Javi dove in face first, the flat of his tongue licking up your slit. He had you biting your lip and curling your fingers into the soft strands of his hair, making you keen when he started lapping at your perky little clit.

“Oh, god,” you breathed.

No one ate pussy like Javier—it was like he was starving for it, the rumbling groans he made as he dragged his mouth all over your cunt, wanting to taste every bit of your essence while inhaling your musk. His words vibrated against your cunt, “You taste so fucking good.”

“You’re too good at this,” you panted. The back of your head hit the wall, your eyes closing, moans falling unbidden from your lips as the first signs of your orgasm took shape low in your belly. “I’m so lucky,” you continued. “I can’t fucking believe I get this for the rest of my life.”

For only a second, he paused. “Any time you want it,” he roughly replied. “Fucking love this pussy.” He then sucked on his ring and middle fingers to soak them in saliva. You whined his name when he pushed them into your sopping cunt. There was a slight stretch, Javi putting his mouth back to work, licking and sucking at your sensitive skin. His come—still inside you from earlier in the Mustang—and your arousal had his thick digits moving easily in and out of you, your hips grinding against his face and hand.

“Just like that,” you said. “Oh, god, don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

Your limbs were beginning to tremble as the pleasure built inside of you, and you cried out as his fingertips rubbed that one spot only he could find—that only seemed to encourage him. He growled into your pussy and doubled down, hitting nirvana every time he pumped his fingers, his mouth focusing on your clit, alternating between sucking it between his lips and flicking his tongue along it side to side, over and over again.

“Oh my fucking god, I love you,” you told him in your blissful haze. “I fucking love you, Javier Peña.”

He hummed something that sounded a lot like, “I love you, too.”

The muscles in your stomach started tightening, the liquor in your system keeping you relaxed as you stood there on the balcony with your tits out, getting your pussy eaten by your new husband. It didn’t take much more to have you cresting, euphoria exploding out from your core as you came, gasping Javi’s name. He loudly groaned, saying, with his face in your cunt, “Good girl.” He replaced his fingers with his tongue, licking up your come and what remained of his inside you while you rode out your high.

Your body went lax, and you slumped; your heart was pounding in your chest, your breaths panting from your lungs. When Javi got his fill, he carefully removed your leg from his shoulder and rose back up onto his feet with a pained sound from his achy knees. He gently kissed your chin, then one side of your mouth, and the other—his lips were wet, and you could smell yourself on him. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, his hard cock pressing into your belly. This was when his mouth met yours to properly kiss you, tasting yourself on his lips and tongue, hugging him in return, the skin on his back warm under your palms.

Between the tequila and orgasm, you felt amazing, and you wanted your husband to feel the same. You ended the kiss, your hands moving to hold his face as you looked at him—his eyes were closed, his mustache and lower half of his face glistening with your juices, a happy little smile on his lips. He looked so unbelievably adorable that you gave in to the impulse and squished his cheeks to the point his shiny lips pursed—it made you grin.

“You are so fucking cute,” you said. “Even when you look like a goldfish, you’re a capital C, Ca-Utie. Ugh, it’s illegal how goddamn adorable you are.”

His eyes opened. “You done?” he asked, sounding a little funny.

“Obsessing about how cute you are? Never. Like, you’re so cute.” A thought caught you off guard that had your eyes widening, the alcohol in your system amplifying the doubts. “You’re too cute,” you whispered. Letting go of his face, you continued, “Why would you want to be with someone like me? Do you like me?” you asked. “As more than a friend? Like, romantically?” You chewed on your lip.

His eyebrows pulled together, and he squinted, clearly confused. “I married you…” he said slowly.

“Yeah, but did you marry me because you love me or because we’re best friends?”

“Am I married to Steve…?”

“No, but he was already married when you met, and polygamy is illegal.”

“Cielito, mi amor, I married you because I love you, and you’re wearing the proof of that on your finger.”

“Friendship rings exist.”

“I sure as fuck didn’t give Steve my mother’s ring because we’re friends. I love you as more than a friend—wait.” His eyes rounded. Quietly, he asked, “Do you love me as just a friend or more than a friend?”

“How can you ask me that? I definitely love you as more than a friend!”

“You asked me first, and it fucked with my head!”

“I’m sorry, I needed to double-check.”

“I needed to double-check, too.”

“Well, I love you so much that I want to have your babies—” You poked him in the chest. “—and I can tell you right now, I don’t want to have Robyn’s babies. I mean, unless it was like a surrogate situation.”

That made him smile, his hands rubbing up and down your covered arms. “I want you to have my babies, too.”

“Then that settles it. We love each other as more than friends, but you’re still my best friend.”

“You’re still my best friend.”

“I won’t tell Steve.”

“I won’t tell Robyn.”

He leaned in to kiss you sweetly, the two of you smiling when you broke apart.

“Javi?”

“Yes, Cielito?”

“We’re a couple of dumbasses.”

An amused breath left him. “It’s a good thing we married each other, then.”

“True. Dumbasses need to stick together. Now,” you gripped the open edges of his robe and turned you both, pressing him back into the wall hard enough that he grunted. “It’s time for me to blow your popsicle, Mr. Peña.” Something you said you wanted to do earlier, but he told you could happen later.

“Mi cuerpo es tu cuerpo, Mrs. Peña (My body is your body, Mrs. Peña). You can do any-fucking-thing you want to me.”

You grinned. “I love when you tell me that.” You leaned in to give him one last lingering kiss.

It was your turn to make him feel good, and you began by kissing down his body, starting at his jaw and moving lower and lower, down his gorgeous neck, his chest, his soft belly, crouching when you made it to the happy trail of hair below his belly button that you followed until you were face to face with his hard cock. It looked even better than you imagined earlier–long, thick, and with that slight curve that felt so fucking good when he was inside you, the tip flushed and shiny with precum. The tile beneath you was unforgiving when you kneeled on it, raising your arms above your head to drag your fingernails down his stomach and through the curls, Javi’s head falling back against the wall with a soft moan.

You spat in the palm of your dominant hand, wrapping your fingers around his shaft—it was hot and hard, Javi twitching in your grip as you started languidly pumping him.

Looking up at your husband through your lashes, you said, “Hey, babe?”

His face tilted down at you.

“Yes, mi amor?”

“What do you call a nurse with dirty knees?”

His eyebrows pulled together. “What?”

“A head nurse.”

He went from chuckling to groaning loudly when the flat of your tongue licked up his length from root to tip, swirling it around the sensitive edges at the head. You reveled in how his eyes squeezed shut, and his mouth fell open, loving the salty tang of his precum as you took him into your mouth, continuing to stroke what didn’t fit. His big hands found their home in your hair, moving with your bobbing head as you hollowed your cheeks, taking more and more of him until he was hitting the back of your throat.

His rough voice came from above, “That’s it, baby—it feels so fucking good.”

That only egged you on. It could be said that you were an expert at blowing your husband. You knew all the things that made him tick and what would really get him going, like when your head rose off of him, gathering a wad of saliva on your tongue that you let drip onto the tip of him.

“Yes,” he gasped. “Spit on it.”

More saliva fell, slicking up the movements of your hand stroking him. You ducked your head, sucking one of his balls into your mouth.

His fingers tightened in your hair. “Fuck,” he groaned, and the way he said that word had your cunt clenching. You tongued at the thin skin of his sack, then gently sucked his other ball, your palm on his dick twisting on every upstroke to slide along the underside of the head.

The muscles in his thighs were tensed as you licked up his shaft to take him back into your mouth. His hips just barely rocked as his dick slid further and further along your palate until you were swallowing around him, his cock sliding into the tight space of your throat. Your nose pressed into the neatly trimmed curls at the base of him, smelling the soap he washed with in the shower.

“Christ, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he rasped. Tears collected in the corners of your eyes as saliva dripped down his length, your hands clutching his thighs. You looked up, meeting his dark gaze, seeing the clear love and desire he had for you. “So pretty with my dick down your throat.” His palm caressed your cheek. “That’s my good girl making me feel so fucking good—fuck, I love you.”

This was why you genuinely loved giving Javi head—he was always so vocal, and when he praised you, it made you drip for him. Arousal was hot in your belly. It always turned you on to hear and see the effect you were having on him. You swallowed around his thick cock, causing your throat to squeeze him—his body shivered, and you watched it travel down from his shoulders to his hips.

“Shit,” he moaned.

The glow of the moon and what light reached the balcony from the living room softly illuminated the man above you, and you couldn’t think of a prettier sight than your husband struggling to keep from coming, as he was right then. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he looked at you with pleading eyes. “I don’t wanna come like this.” The words came out scratchy like sandpaper. “Can I fuck you? Please, Cielito?”

He didn’t need to ask twice. Immediately, you came off of him, strings of spit and precum keeping you connected. Staring up at him under your eyelashes, you answered hoarsely, “Yes. Fuck me, Papí.”

That had Javi helping you stand. When you were finally up on your feet, his large hands framed your face as he kissed you hard. He didn’t care that your chin was wet with spit or your cheeks had tear marks; he kissed you as if his life depended on it and slowly started walking you backward toward the railing.

He spoke between kisses, his mouth pressed to yours, muffling his words, “Estoy tan feliz de que seas mi esposa (I’m so happy that you are my wife)… Estoy tan feliz de poder pasar el resto de mi vida contigo (I’m so happy I get to spend the rest of my life with you)... Estoy tan feliz de que algún día seas la madre de mis hijos (I’m so happy that one day you will be the mother of my children)... Este es el día más feliz de mi vida (This is the happiest day of my life).”

Suddenly, your husband spun you, his palm smoothing up the cotton covering your back to signal you to bend toward the railing. The top of it reached the middle of your ribs, so you weren’t bent at the waist—you were leaning onto it, crossing your arms atop the metal, and popping out your ass with a widened stance to give him more room. He gripped your hips and pressed his throbbing cock into your backside. Javi leaned into you. “Feel how hard I am? That’s all you, my beautiful wife.”

Arousal swirled in your belly, the beat of your heart pulsing between your legs.

You turned your head, looking at him behind you. “You should feel how wet I am. It’s all you, my handsome husband,” you replied, wiggling your butt.

He smiled and kissed your shoulder blade. “I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you, too.”

It seemed he had enough talking. Javi straightened himself and flipped up the bottom of your robe to bare you, the cool air chilling the wetness at the crux of your thighs. He grunted as he crouched down behind you, squeezing handfuls of your ass. His teeth lightly sank into the meat of your inner thigh for only a moment, and it was like dousing gasoline on the flames in your core.

His hands spread open your asscheeks. “So fucking pretty,” he purred. A second later, a rumbling groan came from his throat as he licked up through your slit from your clit to your entrance before spitting on the skin between your two holes—you felt the warm wad of saliva dripping down to your already-soaked opening.

He smacked your ass, the cheek jiggling as he rose back up on his feet. “You gotta keep quiet, baby,” he whispered. One of his hands held your waist while the other slid his dick through your arousal and his spit to wet himself. He bent at the waist to rasp into your ear, “Don’t wanna draw attention to us—unless you want everyone to know how good your husband fucks you.” He squeezed your hip as he notched the fat head of his cock at your entrance.

Your robe was open, your nipples tingling when a breeze hit your bare skin. The alcohol made you brave as you looked at him over your shoulder again with a smile, your hand going up behind you to touch his smooth cheek.

“I want the entire world to know how good my husband fucks me. Give it to me, Papí.”

A shiver moved down Javier’s spine, his cock jerking in his hand.

This woman was going to be the death of him.

“Scream for me, baby,” he replied, turning his head to kiss the center of her palm.

He started pressing himself into the tight clutch of her pussy, her inner walls hugging his thick length as he fed it inside her inch by inch—her arm fell back onto the railing, and they both moaned, Javier’s eyes closing, his jaw going slack at how good she felt around him, all hot and wet. His hips met the softness of her ass, and he looked down to watch as he slowly pulled out, his dick glistening under what little light there was.

“I love how wet you get for me,” he said. “All nice and soaked for your husband.”

He couldn’t get enough of being called that: her husband.

The quickie in the car scratched the itch; still, Javier had been looking forward all-fucking-day to the moment when he got to take his time and properly fuck his wife. Gripping her waist, he pushed back in, Cielito’s head falling onto the cushion of her arms with a breathy “Yes” that riled him up. She wanted everyone to know how good her husband fucks her, and he was more than happy to oblige.

He started moving in and out of her, keeping most of himself inside for her to feel every ridge and pulsing vein as he reacquainted her cunt with the familiar shape of him.

“It’s so good,” she moaned. “You feel so good.”

“Yeah? I’ve got you, hermosa (beautiful).”

He could make it feel even better—this was a position where she wanted him to be rough, where she wanted him to fuck her until she was cock dumb and her legs shook.

He began increasing the momentum of his hips, slickly sliding halfway out and back into her over and over again until he was railing into her with hard, even strokes that stuttered her loud moans. Javier grunted with each thrust, their skin clapping where it met. With how the balcony had walls on three sides, the sounds echoed off the stucco.

Fuck, he loved being inside her. There was nothing better than feeling the squeeze of her pussy around him. He did love her going down on him a little bit ago, and earlier, when she gave him a hand job after their marriage ceremony, he loved that, too. He also loved the occasions when she’d let him fuck her ass—Javier loved anything she wanted to do with him. But if he had to choose a favorite, it’d be a variation of what they were doing right now.

“You like this?” he mumbled between grunts. “Is it good?”

Several seconds passed with no answer, and there was no hiding his smirk. He slid a palm up the path of her spine to firmly grasp the back of her neck, his other hand going to her front, roughly fondling her breast. He kept up the punishing pace of his hips.

“Am I fucking you good, mi amor?” he tried again a little louder.

Her head lifted, turning her attention to him behind her. Even in such dim conditions, he could see her eyes were heavy-lidded and glazed over. There was a scrunch between her eyebrows, and her mouth was slightly agape—she was absolutely wrecked. She finally answered, repeating, “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

Pride swelled inside him. “You like how your husband fucks you?”

“Yes! God, yes!” she cried.

Her words had sparks igniting at the base of his spine, making his cock twitch. His fingers plucked at her nipple, rolling the stiff bud. It’d be hard for anyone down below to fully make out what they were doing, but there was no masking the noise—the filthy repetitive slap of skin hitting skin, his rough grunts, and her whining moans that filled the air gave them away.

They were usually much more courteous to their neighbors when it came to their volume. His wife always found it embarrassing when Mrs. Hernandez banged on the wall between their apartments or the people upstairs stomped on the floor to tell them to quiet down. It had to be the tequila—the liquid courage—that had her acting so brazen tonight, and he loved it.

“Are you gonna come for me?” he asked.

“Yes! Don’t stop!” She started chanting over and over again, “Don’t stop! Don’t stop! Don’t stop—”

He followed her orders, continuing to pound into her at the same speed, his fingers tweaking her nipple. Beads of sweat were forming on his brow and the small of his back, his gaze locked on hers—she was so gorgeous.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Cielito,” he told her. “So fucking beautiful taking it like my good girl.”

Her eyes squeezed shut, and she loudly whined his name into the night. Her cunt was fluttering around him, her entire body quaking. She laid her head back onto her arms, and that told him she was almost to the finish line.

“Come for me, mi amor,” he said. “Let me have it.”

He’d follow soon after he. His orgasm had been slowly building inside him, feeling the pressure rising deep in his guts with every passing second. He was thankful they fucked in the car because there was no way in hell he would’ve been able to last this long if they hadn’t fooled around beforehand.

Javier loved every second of this, the thrill amplifying his pleasure. The thrill was the reason he enjoyed fucking in places he shouldn’t. He craved the adrenaline, something he experienced regularly in Colombia. But now, instead of possibly dying to feel that rush, he just had to try not to get caught.

It wasn’t much longer before they reached a crescendo. She let out an unintelligible cry, all of the muscles in her body pulling taut, choking his dick hard enough to stutter his rhythm—he sucked in a breath through bared teeth, willing himself not to come while he continued fucking her through her high, drawing it out.

It happened fast. Her legs went wobbly like a newborn calf’s. “Shit,” Javier breathed, quickly getting his arm around her middle and the other across her chest. “Don’t fall, baby,” he grunted, hauling her up against his body to prevent her from doing as much. It was his strength that kept her standing and walked her forward, pinning her by the hips to the railing.

By some miracle, his cock stayed inside her.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “My legs feel like jello.”

He carefully pulled the robe off one of her shoulders to lightly kiss the side of her neck, her skin prickling with goosebumps. “Don’t apologize,” was his muffled reply. “Means your husband fucked you good.” His lips made a journey to her ear. “Do you wanna stop?” he whispered. “Or can I keep going?”

She reached up behind her, combing her fingers into his sweat-damp hair. “Mmm, definitely keep going.”

Javier smiled. “Yeah?” He kissed that one sensitive spot behind her ear—she hummed happily. “I wanna look at you,” he said. “Can I turn you?”

“Of course. Just help me, please. I don’t trust my legs.”

He chuckled. “I’ve got you.”

He slipped out of her, the back of her robe falling into place. Her legs were still shaking as he helped her face him, pressing her into the railing again. They locked eyes, and both smiled. His hands reached to hold her perfect face while her arms went around his neck, her fingers pushing into the brown waves at the back of his head.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi.” His thumbs stroked over the apples of her cheeks. “There you are. My beautiful wife.”

Before she could respond, he closed the gap between their lips, hers petal soft and slotting together with his perfectly. He wanted to kiss her slowly. He wanted to savor this moment, take his time, but she made this delicious little noise that broke his resolve, and he wanted nothing more than to hear it again. It made him greedy. Not only did he want that noise, he wanted her moans and her sighs. He wanted to hear her mouth caress the syllables of his name and cry it out when he brought her to the brink of ecstasy.

The kiss turned hungry and passionate, both of them ravenous. When that sweet sound met his ears again, it spurred him on. He was still hard and aching to come. Unable to wait any longer, Javier reached down to hook her thigh onto his hip, then guided his length back into her pussy. The moment his cock breached her tight opening, he moaned into her mouth, his head going dizzy at how good it felt.

He started slowly thrusting, his lips breaking away to nip at her chin. “Can I make you come again?” he breathily asked. “Please?”

Her fingers were still tangled in his hair, and she pulled on it to get his attention. “Is that what you need, baby? You wanna feel me come around your dick? You wanna watch your wife come?”

Javier whimpered—his eyes squeezed shut, and his cock pulsed inside her. He wanted to watch, he wanted to feel and hear her come, taste her tongue on his, and smell the sex on her skin. She already occupied his every thought, and he wanted her to take over his senses, too. Take over his entire world until she was all that existed.

He continued moving his hips, his dick sliding easily with how wet it was between her legs.

Javier looked at her, his tongue wetting his bottom lip. “Yes,” he answered. “Can I?”

Her palm pressed to his cheek, and he leaned into the touch. “Yes, Javi.” This time, she was the one who crushed her mouth to his before he could utter another word, her fingers threading into his hair. Her tongue pushed past his lips, and he groaned, the kiss turning messy.

He was still so worked up that it wasn’t going to take a lot to get him off. Javier increased his pace, going harder and faster. There was an audible wetness where they were joined, and he could hear himself working in and out of her used cunt, her arousal dripping down his shaft and balls.

This was what he wanted. To be able to kiss her. To see her and watch her fall apart. He had one hand gripping her leg at his waist, keeping it up, and snaked his other between their bodies, sliding it down her stomach to the apex of her thighs to rub her clit. He swallowed her moan, her fingers tightening in his thick strands of hair. His lips broke away from hers, Javier ducking his head, spreading sloppy kisses along her collarbone, on her shoulder, and up her neck. With her robe open and off her shoulder, it gave him a canvas of bared skin for his mouth to map out.

“Tell me when you’re close,” he murmured against her throat. “Can you do that for me?”

He was doing everything in his power to hold off his own end so she could take him with her. The muscles in his belly were knotted up, his heart pounding in his chest. His cock was throbbing almost uncomfortably with his need to come.

“Yes.”

“Good girl.” Javier sucked on her earlobe, then returned his attention to her neck and shoulder, kissing and biting the skin. His voice was muffled as he rambled, “I’m gonna make you come, and when I do—fuck—when I do, I’m going with you.” He was circling her clit, giving her the friction she needed. “I'll fill you up, and you’re gonna stay full. I fucking meant it when I said I’m gonna keep you stuffed full of me.” He was panting hot breaths as he kissed her, getting himself worked up with what he was saying. “I can promise you��shit—I can promise you, I am going to get you pregnant. I am going to knock you up.” He swallowed hard, his hips continuing to fuck into her. “You’re gonna have my baby. I’m gonna make sure of it.”

They were pretty sure her actual shot at getting pregnant was the week prior. But since they weren’t 100% positive, they didn’t want to miss their chance, and that possibility made the shit they said while fucking even hotter.

“Please,” she moaned. “Put a baby in me. Please. I want it. Fill me up, Papí.”

“Jesus Christ,” he groaned. “You can have it—fuck—you can have any-fucking-thing you want. I’ll fuck a baby into you.”

He tucked his face in the crook of her neck, breathing heavily through gritted teeth. It was taking most of his focus to keep himself from blowing his load.

“I’m close, Javi!” Cielito whined. “Oh, god, I’m gonna come!”

The excitement caused his rhythm to falter for a split second. “Shit,” Javier hissed. He quickly got back into tempo, his head lifting to look at his wife. Her eyes were closed, her forehead shining with perspiration, moans spilling from her rounded lips. His fingers kept strumming her clit, and his other hand gently grasped her jaw.

“Look at me,” he panted. “Open your eyes, Cielito. Let me see you.”

Her eyelids fluttered open, and he was met with hooded lust-blown eyes.

“Javi,” she gasped. Her fingers were clenched in his hair. “I’m gonna come, Javi.”

“I know, baby. I know. Come for me. Take me with you.”

She was quivering as his hips swung hard and fast into her. Javier watched as each stroke took her higher and higher, his gaze never leaving hers. After half a dozen more thrusts, she finally told him, “I’m coming.” Her eyes squeezed shut, moaning as she peaked; her body seized up, her pussy clamping down on him.

That was it for Javier.

A strangled noise left his throat as his balls drew up, pushing himself all the way to the root inside her. Pleasure erupted from his core, his dick pulsing, painting her insides with rope after rope of his come. He rolled his hips, fucking his spend as deep as it would go. The primal part of his brain making him ignore how sensitive his cock was in order to fill the depths of her cunt.

When every last drop was wrung out of him, he stopped moving, and his body became boneless. He slumped into his wife, but not before wrapping his arms around her and burying his face back into the crook of her neck. All thoughts had left his brain, the man blissed out, basking in her warmth and the familiar scent of her skin. And then she did his favorite thing and started playing with his sweaty hair. He sighed happily, nuzzling his face closer to her like he was trying to burrow himself under her skin.

This. This was the closest thing to heaven on earth. This was his heaven. She was his heaven.

Javier grew up going to church with his parents, and his interpretation of what he read and heard was that if there were a heaven, it wouldn’t be a physical place. There were no pearly gates or St. Peter waiting to greet you. Instead, it was a state of being where there was complete fulfillment and nothing but absolute happiness. How fucking lucky was he that he found that in life?

He stood there, his body pressed into her softer one, as the beat of their hearts slowed and their breaths evened out. There was a low rumble of cars driving on nearby roads and unseen crickets chirping in the distance.

It took a few minutes before either of them spoke.

“Javi?” she croaked.

He kissed the side of her neck. “Yes, baby?”

“I’m ready to go inside.”

He straightened to his full height to see her face. “Okay, mi amor.” He pecked her on the lips, rubbing his hands up and down her robed arms. “Can you walk?”

Her eyebrow rose. “Can I walk? Mr. I’m-going-to-make-you-come-so-many-times-you’re-gonna-need-a-wheelchair.”

Javier tried not to smile and failed, his hands pausing. “A wheelchair?”

“Yes, a wheelchair. Because my husband loves to fuck me to the point I can’t walk.” She wasn’t wrong, and it made his chest puff up. “Should’ve brought one home from work a long time ago.”

“You don’t need a wheelchair, baby.” He gently squeezed her biceps. “I did it, and I’ll get you where you need to go. Does a bath sound good? Or do you wanna get into bed? We could also watch TV on the couch—order a pay-per-view movie.”

Her lips lifted into a knowing smile. “Pay-per-view movie, huh? Like, porn? Javi, when you stay in hotels by yourself, do you order pay-per-view porn? You can be honest with me. I’m your wife.”

He scratched at the back of his neck. “I mean, not every time… what about you? You can be honest with me. I’m your husband.”

“A time or two, out of curiosity.”

He smiled. “Out of curiosity, huh?” His voice went a little deeper. “Did you touch yourself while watching…?”

“What do you think?”

Javier grabbed her hips. He leaned in to hover his mouth over hers, nuzzling her nose with his. “I think,” he rasped, “you played with your pretty pussy while watching. Did you get yourself off with your fingers?”

“Vibrator. You know I don’t like playing acoustic pussy unless I have to.”

“You like my fingers.”

“Because you’re sexy and an acoustic pussy maestro.” She brushed his lips with hers. “It’s your turn to choose,” she said. “Bath, bed, or couch, Mr. Peña?”

“Bath sounds nice.”

“Bath sounds wonderful.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do, Mrs. Peña.” He ended the sentence with a kiss, something slow and tender. They broke apart, smiling. “Let’s go, Cielito.”

The rectangular whirlpool tub was massive enough that your husband could sit across from you with his long legs fully extended while yours rested over his. Javi’s cheeks and chest were painted with a pink flush from the bath’s heat, his broad shoulders dotted with a constellation of freckles. Your bodies were submerged in the hot water, covered from your shoulders down, the bathtub’s jets rumbling as they massaged your backs. It was relaxing, the warmth of the water and the pressure of the spray along your spine easing all of the tension from your body.

To continue the celebration of your nuptials, your husband brought the complimentary bottle of champagne into the bathtub with you. He popped it open and poured you each a glass, the two of you toasting to your marriage and the start of your family before drinking and chatting, laughter quickly filling the room. The bottle was over halfway empty, and you both were buzzed.

“You’re fucking with me,” he said with a grin. His arm was resting on the edge of the tub, holding his flute of bubbly. The man always had to be touching you, his other palm under the water rubbing up and down your calf, but it paused when he spoke.

Your smile got bigger. “I’m not!” you laughed. Your champagne was sitting on the bathtub’s rim, your fingers fiddling with the stem of the glass. “When I graduated nursing school,” you said, “I was trying to figure out what I wanted to specialize in. So, I did a rotation in labor and delivery, and I had this mother in labor who needed a C-section. Like, it’d been hours with zero progress, and the doctor called it. She told the couple, and I quote, ‘This baby has to come out the other way.’ I shit you not, after the doctor left, the father looked at me and asked, ‘They’re gonna pull the baby out of her butt?’”

He huffed amusedly, his head shaking in disbelief. “Jesus.” He took a sip of his drink and set it back down.

“It was so hard not to laugh,” you said. “Surprisingly, not the dumbest or wildest thing anyone has ever said to me at work.”

His expression turned curious. “What’s the wildest thing someone has said to you?”

“Ummm.” Your eyes left his to think about it for a second, your mind running through many memorable interactions until one in particular stuck out. Your attention went back to him. “Probably the guy who may or may not have been a gang member who gave me his number and told me if I ever needed someone taken out—as in murdered—to give him a call. He even said it’d be free of charge, which was weirdly sweet? Not that I’d actually take him up on it,” you clarified, lifting your glass to your lips for a sip.

His eyes rounded. “What…?”

Your champagne returned to its spot on the tub’s edge. “It’s kinda like how people propose to me all of the time because they’re so thankful I brought them food after they fasted for their procedures. When scary-looking dudes who may or may not have gang ties come to the hospital, and you treat them like any other patient—you know, with dignity and respect—they really, really appreciate it. Their way of thanking you is by offering their services or illegal goods.”

His eyebrows drew together. “Illegal goods, like drugs…?”

“Sure, and weapons.” You shrugged. “One guy offered me illegal European cheeses, and I won’t lie, that one was tempting.”

“Do you still have the contacts?”

“No. I never kept their info, and let’s be real, they weren’t using their actual names. Once they left the hospital, they were no longer my patient, and what they did was none of my business. Snitches get stitches and all that jazz.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, and his hand began a new circuit along the skin of your leg. “What’s the dumbest thing someone said?” He had another sip.

“Oh, listen to this. A male patient came into the ER complaining about abdominal pain. After the doctor did a quick exam, he ordered an ultrasound. When we told the patient about the ultrasound, he shouted, ‘I’m not pregnant! I’m a man!’”

“You’re fucking with me,” Javi said again, looking just as amused as the first time, his champagne flute hovering over the water.

“I swear I’m not!” you giggled. “He said that! This guy was in his mid-fifties, too. His wife was so embarrassed. The doctor had to pull out a fucking human anatomy diagram to educate the dude.”

“I’d be a shitty nurse. I wouldn’t have the patience for all of the stupidity.”

“Oh my god,” you laughed, thinking about Javi as a nurse. “Between your grumpy resting face and the fact you cannot hide what you’re feeling, you’d be so bad. No offense, babe.” You patted his knee underwater.

“None taken. I said it first. It’s nice knowing my wife has the patience of a saint to put up with my bullshit.” He raised his glass your way in toast, then took a drink.

“Stop it. You’re perfect. Now, are you finally gonna tell me how much you spent on this room?”

He smiled, setting his champagne back onto the rim. “No.”

“Rude.”

He chuckled. “Just enjoy it, baby.” Water droplets trickled as he lifted your leg out of the bath and leaned in, kissing the inside of your ankle.

“But I’m curious as fuck,” you whined.

He returned your leg to the water. “I’ll make you a deal,” he said. “Earlier, you mentioned we sometimes have to compromise, so I’ll tell you how I got the room, but I won’t tell you what it cost me.”

That had you perking up. Maybe you could call the front desk and find out the price yourself.

“The front desk won’t tell you,” he continued, looking a little too pleased with himself. Of course, he knew what you were thinking.

You deflated with a sigh. “Fine,” you said. “How were you able to get the room?”

“The manager is mi prima’s (my cousin’s) brother-in-law.”

You grinned. “You’ve got connections. That’s very sexy of you.”

He was smiling, his eyes crinkling at the edges and shining with love—a look you were all too familiar with and hoped he could see on your face. His hand continued stroking your leg.

He chuckled. “Even with connections, it took some negotiating. It was worth it, though. You’re worth it. I know our wedding was pretty short notice, and since we couldn’t get time off from work for me to whisk you away on a real honeymoon—which I plan on doing sometime this year before we have a baby—this was the next best thing to show you how much I love you and what you mean to me. You deserve the very best, and that’s what I’m always gonna give you, and nothing less.”

His words had you melting, your heart skipping a beat. It was a regular occurrence where Javier said or did something that made you wonder once again what you did to deserve him in your life or to be loved in this way you never knew existed. “How did I get so lucky?”

“I’m the lucky one.”

“I beg to differ because I am married to arguably the greatest man on earth, who worships me like a goddess, and that’s not even an exaggeration. A freaking goddess! Me! Insane.” It was crazy how much you loved this man, and the alcohol had your feelings threatening to burst from your lips. So, you let them. “I need to tell you something.”

“Yeah?”

“You make me feel so safe. You make me feel comfortable and so fucking loved. Javi, I’ve never been so loved, and I know it’s sad, and you hate thinking about it, but I’ve never had someone love me unconditionally like you do.” The emotions had tears welling up in your eyes. “I’ve never experienced a love like this that I feel deep in my soul, and that’s how I know it’s real. I’m not as poetic as you are, so I’m just going to say what comes to mind. Prepare yourself for some sappy bullshit.”

He was watching you with a fond expression and watery eyes. “I’m ready.”

“Hold my hand.” You reached out to him, and he grasped your fingers, his thumb rubbing over the tops of them. You cleared your throat to compose yourself. “There was an emptiness inside my chest?” You said it in question. “A lifelong longing for something I never knew I needed until you came along. You redefined the void. You gave it meaning. You’ve shown me what it is to be seen, to be cherished, to be truly loved. You’ve shown me a world that, up until you entered mine, was nothing more than a fantasy I’d only ever dreamed about. It was something out of reach, you know? But here you are, a dream come true, who loves me unconditionally, and for that, you have my love, you have my total devotion, you get my every morning and my every night. You get slow dances in the kitchen and four a.m. grilled cheeses—ooh, I like how that kinda rhymes.” Your husband laughed, his lips curved up in a smile. “I’m not half bad at this. Javi, I am going to give you the life you’ve always deserved but never felt worthy of—a wife, kids, dog, house, and hopefully, happiness. I want to make you as happy as you make me. This is my long way of saying I love you, Javier Peña. Thank you for loving me.”

“I’m so fucking happy,” he replied. “Come here.” He beckoned you toward him, lightly tugging your hand. Without another thought, you moved, the bath sloshing as you pushed yourself up onto your knees and crawled into his lap, straddling his thighs. Javi wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tightly to his body, your face nestled into the curve of his neck. His head tilted to touch yours. “I love you,” he said. “I love you so fucking much. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about how fucking lucky I am to have you. I’ve never been happier than when I’m with you, and sometimes I catch myself wondering if this is all a dream. You have no idea how many times I’ve almost pinched myself because being with you feels so right and so perfect that I think it all has to be too good to be true, and I’m gonna wake up alone in my bed at the ranch or in fucking Colombia.” You gasped, your heart squeezing at how heartbreaking that was. “Being with you is teaching me that life can be kind and there is hope for the future. You’re my future, and even though there are moments where it feels too surreal and too fucking good, it is real. What we have is real, and I am grateful for you. I will forever be grateful that you chose me, and I will never take for granted a single day that I get to share my life with you.” His head turned to kiss your cheek. “This is my long way of saying I love you, too. Thank you for loving me.”

“Oh, Javi.” You sat up, taking his face into your hands. Sitting in his lap, you were taller than him, and his chin raised to look at you with his red-rimmed eyes. “It is real. It’s so fucking real. I love you.”

That was an understatement of how you felt about him. Not when it felt as if his heart was beating in your chest, and looking into his eyes was like coming home—the familiarity, the comfort, the safety. Almost as if you’d always known that those irises, with their unique mix of chocolatey-colored hues, would belong to the one who was meant for you. A recognition, a certainty when your gazes met that he was your person, your other half.

Emotions had you smashing your mouth against his, kissing him hard. You poured your love into each press of your lips to his, letting him taste the devotion on your tongue. His arms were wrapped around your middle, holding you flush to him. It didn’t matter that you’d already come a handful of times tonight. The things he said had you wanting, no, needing him again, the desire searing through your veins and pooling in your belly.

An interesting side effect of being in love with Javi and knowing he loved you, too, was how it made you so fucking horny. Confessing your love to one another was basically foreplay, and wasn’t that adorable? A couple of love-sick fools getting turned on from loving each other. Robyn would absolutely fake-gag if you told her about you and your husband’s love kink.

He sounded breathless when he came up for air. “I love you.” He messily kissed your chin and the shape of your jaw. “I fucking love you,” he murmured into your skin.

“I love you, too.” His face was still framed in your hands, and you pushed him back to gain access to the line of his neck, your head dipping to swipe your tongue up his salty skin.

“Jesus,” he breathed, his throat bobbing. You rocked your hips, rubbing his already half-hard cock with your cunt, his hands grabbing ahold of your ass, the soft flesh firmly filling his palms as he helped you move. You sucked over his pulse point hard enough to leave a mark, Javi groaning, “Fuck, I love you.” The words vibrated under your mouth, making your lips curl in delight.

“I love you, too, Javi.” Your mouth traveled up to take his earlobe between your teeth, nibbling on it before your lips were at his ear. “I really fucking love you.”

“I’m yours.” His fingers dug into your asscheeks, moving you. “You fucking own me. I’m yours forever.”

“And I’ll always be yours, Javi. Always. For-fucking-ever.”

His large hand came up, lightly grasping your jaw to maneuver your face in front of his, Javier’s lips colliding with yours. This kiss was much more frantic, the headiness of passion overtaking you both, matching each other's energy, heartbeat for heartbeat, breath for breath. He was completely hard as you rolled your hips along his shaft, the bath’s water lapping at the sides of the tub. Your arms went around his neck, threading your fingers into the hair at the back of his head.

You loved this man so much that he was your entire world, everything that mattered, and the wild thing was, he felt the same way about you—you were his entire world and everything that mattered to him. It was an intoxicating feeling to love and to be loved.

The sweet heat of want burned at the base of your spine, the tension rising with each desperate kiss until it hit a breaking point. In sync, your mouths separated, you lifted your hips high enough for Javi to position his cock at your entrance, and then you sank onto it.

“That’s it, baby.”

“Yes,” you gasped when he was fully seated inside of you.

There was nothing better than the familiar fullness or how he stretched you open.

Your gazes were locked.

“I love you so fucking much,” he said. “Use me, Cielito. Make yourself come. I wanna feel you.”

He didn’t give you a chance to respond. Javi leaned up to capture your lips once more, his hands gripping handfuls of your ass. Your palms slid up his flushed chest to grab his shoulders, and you did what he said: you started moving. You ground your hips, keeping most of him inside you while rubbing your clit on the coarse hairs at the base of his dick. Sparks danced in your core, your pulse pounding. Your husband helped you grind in his lap.

“Te amo (I love you),” he said between kisses. “Te amo muchísimo, mi amor (I love you so much, my love). Eres mi todo (You are my everything). Toma lo que es tuyo (Take what is yours).”

“I love you, too, Javi.” Pleasure built, and the coil in your tummy started to tighten. “I fucking love you. I’ll always love you.” Your hips circled in the most delicious rotations.

His tongue delved between your lips, plundering your mouth, moans coming from the back of your throat. With how close you were physically—your bodies pressed together like pieces of a puzzle—and emotionally—your love and devotion for each other—this was the closest you’d ever been with another person, and it felt much more intimate than sex. It was something deeper. Something on a different level where you were caught up in one another, lost in your own little world and the overwhelming feeling of love. Maybe it was the oxytocin, the love hormone, flooding your system that had you thinking this must be what it felt like when your souls came together, the two halves melding to become one.

The water splashed against your back and ribs, the bath’s jets continued to rumble. You didn’t stop the rocking of your hips or sloppily kissing your husband. He felt so good inside you, the pressure on your clit pushing you higher and higher.

“Eres mi vida (You are my life).” It was muffled into your lips. “Eres todo para mí (You are everything to me). Quiero que me uses como tú quieras (I want you to use me however you want).” He switched to English. “I wanna feel my wife come. You gonna get yourself off?“

“Yes.”

“My good girl. I love you. Take what you need, mi amor. Don’t stop. You come, I come. I’m following you. You’re taking me with you.”

Your orgasm was close, the muscles in your stomach winding tighter and tighter.

“I will, Javi. I will. I fucking love you.”

This man you married knew exactly what would have you careening toward your climax. He took your breasts into his hands, ducking his head to suck on your hardened nipple, his fingers teasing the other one. It felt like every nerve ending in your body lit up, your eyes closed, the shock of it making you cry out.

“I love you,” you repeated. “I love you, I love you, I love you—”

Each time you rolled your hips, it created the best friction against your clit, and that, combined with the attention he was giving your tits, had you tumbling over the edge, coming with a gasp of his name. This orgasm was softer than the others. When your body tensed and your cunt squeezed him, Javi hissed. He grabbed your ass, his fingers digging into your flesh as he used his strength to keep moving you in his lap. He kept those gentle waves of pleasure flowing through you, letting you ride out your high while your husband chased his own.

“I’m yours, Javi,” you told him. When you opened your eyes, you saw his were shut tight, and his teeth were bared. It was that sexy look he got when he was close to coming; he just needed a push to get there. You touched your forehead to his, your fingers clutched in his hair. “I’m yours, baby. I want you to come. I want my husband to come. I want you to fill me up and fuck it so deep inside me you knock me up.” He whined, and that just encouraged you. “Get me pregnant, Javi. Let me have it. Let me feel it.”

“Fuck,” he gasped. “I love you. I’m gonna—Christ—I’m gonna fuck a baby into you. I’m gonna fuck you full of my come. Fuck it—shit—fuck it so deep in your pussy it takes. Te amo, te amo, te amo, te amo más que a nada (I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you more than anything).” The groan he let out was guttural. He hugged you to him, holding you still, his face pressing against your throat as he came. His teeth sunk into your neck, the pleasurable pain causing you to moan. His cock jerked inside you with each spurt of his spend gushing into your inner depths, and when it stopped, his heavy breaths were hot on your skin.

The only sound in the bathroom was the tub's jets. The water had turned lukewarm. The large mirror on the opposite wall over the two sinks was still fogged up. It was peaceful and calm. Time stood still in this little bubble where you luxuriated in one another and those happy chemicals flowing through your bodies. All of your muscles relaxed, making you melt into your husband. Javi nuzzled his face into your neck, and your fingernails lovingly scratched at his scalp, earning you a happy hum.

You loved these moments. You loved how comfortable it was to hold each other, your bodies and souls bare. You didn’t feel self-conscious or a need to cover up. You just wanted to share in the afterglow with the man you loved.

Javier told you once that his favorite part of having sex was this: the post-sex glow when you cuddled close and came down with the other person. He loved the intimacy of it. He craved it. He also revealed that down in Colombia, he’d pay the sex workers he slept with extra to stay with him longer instead of leaving immediately after he came so he could have some semblance of that intimacy. It was a little sad if you thought about it too hard; if you thought about how lonely and touch-starved he was, that was made exponentially worse because his love language was physical touch. You’d never let him feel that loneliness again. You were happy to spend those minutes with him after you both finished, cradled in his arms. You were happy to give him that intimacy he craved. You were happy to do whatever it took to make him feel as loved as he made you.

Seconds turned into minutes. Finally, Javi broke the stillness with a kiss to the skin his face was pressed against.

“Javi?”

“Hmmm?”

“I love you.”

He was smiling when his head lifted to look you in the eyes, and you matched his expression.

“I love you, too.”

“I have a serious question.”

His smile fell. “Yeah?”

“Are you a sea lion?”

As expected, his face pinched in confusion.

“What…?”

“Are you a sea lion?” you repeated.

“What do you mean…?”

“I mean, you must be a sea lion ‘cause I can sea-you-lion in my bed tonight.” To really sell it, you wagged your eyebrows.

He tried to hold in the laugh, his cheeks flushing red, but he couldn’t keep it in. He sputtered into full-on laughter, his eyes practically disappearing with how they crinkled in glee. It had you cracking up, too, joining him in the merriment. His head fell against your shoulder as you both laughed at your stupid pick-up line.

It took you back to your wedding ceremony, when you both vowed your marriage would be filled with love, happiness, and laughter. Which was another thing you loved about your husband: he made you feel comfortable enough to be your true goofy self. Something you didn’t feel in your past relationships. But Javi–even with him being a somewhat serious, no-nonsense guy—he appreciated your humor and laughed at your dumb jokes. He never made you feel stupid or embarrassed, and it was truly a breath of fresh air that you could simply be you.

Eventually, you both calmed down. Your husband kissed your cheek and then sat up, rubbing his palms up and down your ribs. He looked at you with soft eyes and a sweet smile.

“I am so fucking in love with you,” he said.

You grinned. “And I am so fucking in love with you,” you replied, poking the tip of his nose. He snatched your hand, lifting it to his lips to kiss your wedding ring.

“I love you naked like this,” he rasped. His burning gaze traveled from your face to your breasts, drinking in the sight of you before his eyes returned to yours. “But you know what would look really good on you?”

“Lingerie? That red thong you love?”

“Me.”

“Oh,” you gasped, your eyes widening. “That just made my pussy flutter.”

“I know.” Because he was still inside you.

You gulped. “Can I, uh, see your left hand real quick?” It came out of the water, dripping. He held it straight up for you to see the back of it. You stared at his fingers, seeing the gold band on his ring finger, and nodded. “Yep, that is a wedding ring. Jesus, you really did marry me. Me. That’s fucking crazy.”

“Stop that.”

Your attention went back to him to see he was frowning. “Stop what?”

He sighed and took both of your hands into his. “Thinking I’m out of your league. I hate it. Cielito, you’re fucking beautiful. Say it. Say, ‘I’m beautiful.’”

“You’re beautiful.”

He gave you a grumpy look. “You know what I meant. Say it.”

The thought of repeating it made you wince, but you did it anyway. You mumbled, “I’mbeautiful.”

“Say it louder.”

“I hate this,” you whined.

“And we’re working on fixing that. So, say it again.”

You took a deep breath. This was so fucking hard. “I’m beautiful.”

He smiled. “You are. Repeat it.”

“I’m beautiful.”

“Again.”

“How many times are we doing this?”

“As many as it takes for you to believe it. Again.”

You sighed. “I’m beautiful.”

“What are you?”

“I’m beautiful.”

He made you say it five more times, and it got easier each time you said it.

“One more,” he ordered.

“I’m beautiful.”

“Good girl.” He closed the gap to kiss you, his big hands coming up to caress your face. When his lips left yours, he nudged your nose with his. “You’re beautiful, smart, funny, sweet, sexy, talented, and an amazing partner. You’re perfect. I need you to remember that. You’re perfect,” he said again, “and I am lucky to have you as my wife.”

“Thank you, Javi. You know I struggle when it comes to that stuff.”

“Yeah, I do know. We’ll keep working on it.” He kissed your forehead.

“I’m lucky to have such a supportive husband who calls me out on my bullshit.”

He huffed. “You do the same for me. I love you, mi amor.”

“I love you, too.” You pecked him on the lips, then pulled back when you started to yawn, covering your mouth with your hand.

“You ready for bed?” he asked.

The question made you realize you were exhausted. “God, yeah.”

“Let’s go, baby.”

Thirty minutes later found you dry, your teeth brushed, and naked under the covers, with Javi spooning you from behind. The curtains were closed, the bedroom dark save for the alarm clock on the bedside table, whose glowing red numbers told you it was almost two a.m. Your husband’s arm was around your front, your hand over his on your breast, your rings touching. His nose was buried in the hair at the back of your head.

It was cozy and warm, feeling so happy and loved. Sleep was coming for you, and your eyelids were getting heavy, your thoughts slowing. In your sleepy haze, you remembered something.

“Javi?” you whispered.

“Yes, Cielito?” he answered just as quietly.

“I just realized Valentine’s Day is next month. I don’t know if you have anything planned yet, but you know what I’d love to do?”

“What?”

“You.”

He chuckled, hugging you a little tighter and kissing your hair. “That’s what we’ll do then. Any other requests?”

You smiled, wiggling back to get closer to him. “Nope. Do you have any requests?”

He was going to ask for the red thong.

“You said something about the red thong in the bath.”

There it was. You giggled. “You got it, babe.” You patted his hand, your rings clinking together. “Sweetest dreams, my wonderful, perfect husband.”

“They’ll be about you, my wonderful, perfect wife. I love you, Cielito.”

“I love you, too.”

Steve lifted his wrist to check the time, the hands on the watch face showing 3:16 p.m.

He frowned. He could’ve sworn he told Javier earlier when they talked on the phone to meet in the hotel restaurant at three p.m. Not 3:30, three on the dot, because he had to get Connie and the kids to Laredo’s tiny airport by six p.m. for their flight to Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport, where they’d get on a bigger plane to take them home to Miami.

Where the hell were the newlyweds?

He was sitting at the head of the long eight-person dining room table at the hotel’s restaurant, Zaragoza Grill, with a clear view of the entrance. Instead of a chair to his right, there was a wooden highchair with his one-year-old, Nate, sitting in it, chewing on a small slice of bread from the bread basket. Connie was next to their youngest in the middle seat, talking to Stevie, their three-year-old, on her other side while he used crayons to color the paper kids’ menu the hostess had given him. Olivia was at the other end of the table, opposite Steve, coloring her own menu.

His arm lowered as he looked at his wife. “Con?” he said.

Her head turned his way. “Yes?”

“I told Javi three, right? Not, 3:30?”

“Yes, you told him three.”

“Why aren’t they here yet?”

“Honey, they got married yesterday. You remember what it was like the days after our wedding. All of the laundry we folded.” She smiled.

‘Folding laundry’ was their codeword for sex, and he absolutely remembered the days following their wedding. They went at it like fucking rabbits and didn’t leave their hotel room in Cabo San Lucas for days.

He smirked. “How could I forget our honeymoon, baby? We had a good time. A really good time. You know, we should go back to Mexico. Maybe we could get your sister to watch the kids while we go on a little vacation.”

She rolled her eyes. “Keep dreaming, Steve. We’re not gonna be able to go on vacation alone until Nate graduates high school, and that’s a good seventeen years away.”

He sighed. She was right. They couldn’t pawn their children off on someone to fuck off to Mexico for a week. “You’re right, sweetheart.”

“I always am.”

That was the end of their conversation, Connie’s attention returning to Stevie.

Behind him was a table for two against the brick wall. The young women sitting at it had walked by them when they were seated, and he estimated they were in their twenties. He couldn’t help eavesdropping on their conversation when one of the girls asked, “Can you believe all that noise last night?”

“Oh my god, I know, right? Like from what it sounded like, either the woman in the room above us was getting it real good, or the rumors are true, and this place is actually haunted. But I just don’t think spirits of nuns would make those noises, you know what I mean?”

“Girl, the moaning? The screaming? The sound of that pounding? Whoever was staying upstairs is one lucky bitch. Her man knows what he’s doing, and I don’t blame her for not being able to stay quiet. I also think they probably figured that since they were on the third floor, no one would hear them going at it.”

Steve inhaled deeply, shaking his head. He knew who was staying on the third floor—he’d even been inside the massive suite. Javier had handed over $150 per night, a pair of expensive courtside tickets to a San Antonio Spurs vs. three-time defending NBA champions Chicago Bulls game, and all of his wife’s tamales from his and his father’s freezers for it. The hotel apparently didn’t rent out the Presidential Suite to just anyone to keep its allure of being something exclusive for the rich and famous who passed through the area. Javier’s local fame, unfortunately, wasn’t enough.

That didn’t stop him, though.

His pal could be a real stubborn son of a bitch.

Javier got intel that the manager was a huge fan of his mom’s tamales and the San Antonio Spurs. He lucked out that his wife’s tamales were the closest to his late mother’s, so he bribed the manager with fifty-something tamales and the highly sought-after tickets to the Spurs vs. Bulls game to book the place at full price.

There was no way in hell Steve would ever pay $150 per night for a hotel room. That was a month and a half’s worth of mortgage payments on his four-bedroom, four-bath home in Florida, for Christ’s sake. The only reason Steve rented a two-room, double-queen suite here in Texas was because Javi and his wife paid for it. They wanted his family to have roomy accommodations since they had their three kids, which was greatly appreciated, and their room only cost a reasonable fifty dollars a night.

Movement at the restaurant’s entrance caught his attention, and he watched as the new Mr. and Mrs. Javier Peña made their way inside. Steve snorted at seeing the newlyweds in matching outfits of jeans and lavender-colored shirts, Javi’s a button-up, and his wife in a V-neck. If that wasn’t ridiculous enough, they were practically fused together, with her tucked under his arm and pressed against his side, their heads close together, smiling and talking as they walked his way.

Steve had been friends with Javier for close to twenty years, and in all that time, he had never seen his best friend happier than he was with his bride. He wasn’t the same man Steve knew in Colombia. He wasn’t even the same man who lived with his family after he took down the Cali Cartel and quit his job. He changed, and he changed for the better.

To be honest, at first, Steve worried about his friend leaving the DEA and returning to civilian life. Javi had all of the signs of being what they call a lifer—someone who spends, if not all, then a significant portion of their career with the same agency. He’d been married to his job and fully committed to seeing it through no matter what it cost him. He didn’t visit his parents for years, and when his mother tragically passed away, he’d only gone home for a few days. Instead of grieving her death, he threw himself into his work. It sure as hell wasn’t healthy, but it was what he had to do to keep going.

Steve was so fucking thankful his friend got out and was getting a second chance. After all of the bullshit he went through, Javier deserved to be happy, and there was no doubt that this girl he married made him happy. She was the best thing to happen to him, and even though they needed to cool it with the PDA in front of his kids, Steve could admit they were really good for each other. He would never say it out loud, but he thought it was cute that a grumpy fucker like Javi ended up someone so bright and cheery.

He rechecked his watch to see it was 3:20 p.m.

The couple approached the table.

“Hey, guys,” the dark-haired man greeted as he pulled out the chair across from Connie for his wife to sit in. “Sorry, we’re late.” He got her settled, kissing the top of her head before taking the seat to Steve’s left.

“Tío (Uncle)!” Stevie shouted and hopped off his chair to run around the table to Javier.

His friend smiled. “Hey, mi principito (my little prince),” he grunted as he lifted the child into his lap.

When Javier was around, Steve and Connie no longer existed to their two eldest kids. Did that bother them? No. It gave them a break, and they weren’t going to be mad about that. They never expected Javi to take on the role of an uncle to their children. They never expected him to be as great as he was with their kids, either. He took his title of tío (uncle) seriously and loved the little Murphys as if they were his flesh and blood. It honestly caught Steve off guard the first time he saw how gentle and sweet Javi was with Olivia.

Steve could admit that at first, he didn’t like that his friend was so good and helpful with his daughter because it made him look bad. Steve grew up believing that, aside from the occasional diaper change, everything involving the children was his wife’s job. Looking back, he could see how that was a shitty way of thinking, and he felt ashamed for putting Connie through all of that. Seeing everything Javi did and how it helped his wife ended up being the swift kick in the ass he needed to step up and be a better father and husband.

“We lost track of time,” the bride said. “Empire Strikes Back was on the TV.”

That title sounded familiar.

“Is that one of those,” Steve started. “What’s it called? Star Trek movies?”

“Star Wars,” Javi corrected. Stevie got off his lap to run back to his original chair to grab his menu.

Nate had lost interest in the bread, so Connie put it on the table in front of the baby. Steve leaned down to his right to get into the diaper bag on the floor, grabbing a bottle of watered-down apple juice that he handed to the one-year-old as he sat back up.

“The ones with those, uh, laser swords?” Steve asked.

Javi sighed. “Lightsabers.”

“Never pegged you as a sci-fi guy.”

“Oh,” Mrs. Peña interjected. She looked past her husband at him. “Javi’s a space nerd.”

Steve smiled. “Is he, now?”

His son returned, holding the paper up to his tío (uncle). “Look!” He had crayons clutched in his other hand.

Javi’s attention went to the toddler. “Were you coloring, bud?” The man put the child in his lap again, and the page with a rainbow of scribbles on the table in front of them. “It looks good, buddy. What are you getting to eat?” He had an arm over the back of his wife’s chair, his other hand pointing at the list of three options, reading what each one was. Mrs. Peña watched the interaction with a fond expression.

Steve looked at Connie. “Honey?”

She met his eyes. “Yes, baby?”

“Five bucks says our kids will have a new cousin by the end of the year.”

She smiled. “I’d be stupid to take that bet.”

“She’s right,” Javi added before going back to talking to Stevie.

“Y’all are no fun.” Steve pouted.

The server interrupted to take their drink orders. After she left, Olivia called from across the table. “Tío (Uncle)?”

Javi turned to see her concerned face. “¿Sí, mi tesorito (Yes, my little treasure)?”

She asked him something in Spanish while pointing at his head, and whatever the question was made the other man’s cheeks flush and his new wife’s eyes widen. Connie looked where their daughter indicated and tried but failed to stifle a giggle.

“What did she ask?” Steve asked. His eyes traveled to each adult, hoping for an explanation.

Javier’s expression could be described as ‘panicked’ when he met Connie’s eyes. She didn’t even let him say anything. “Don’t look at me. I don’t know what happened, so you have to take this one.”

“What did she ask?” he tried again.

Connie caught his gaze and put her hand up to hide her mouth from Olivia while she mouthed at him, ‘Hickey,’ and pointed at the side of her neck. Great. Steve pressed his fingers to his forehead and sighed. They better come up with a believable excuse. His daughter did not need to be finding out what hickies were.

Javi finally answered Olivia in Spanish, and the young girl asked him another question Steve didn’t catch.

He hated it when they did this. He could make out some words, but his daughter and her tío (uncle) sometimes spoke too quickly for him to understand. They also liked to make it obvious when they were talking shit about him because they found it funny and enjoyed annoying the hell out of him.

Javier smiled and shook his head as he replied.

“What are they talking about?” Steve asked.

His friend’s missus threw him a bone. “Olivia asked about the bruise on Javi’s neck, and he told her what happened; he hit it on something last night, and he’s embarrassed about it.” That was a decent excuse. “She also wondered if it hurt, and he reassured her that it didn’t. Is that right, guys?” She addressed the uncle and niece.

His daughter said, “Yep!”

Javi turned his way and nodded. “Yeah.” He glanced over to Olivia and then back to Steve as he said something in Spanish that his daughter laughed at.

This was shit that made his jaw clench. “Hey, you guys know it’s against the rules to talk about me in Spanish.”

“Who said we were talking about you?” Javi replied. His attention returned to Olivia, the two of them, plus his wife, chatting in the language Steve barely understood.

“Leave them alone, Steve,” Connie said, and his eyes went to her. “It’s good practice for Olivia.”

“It’s rude,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

The server returned with their drinks, and the newlyweds had a chance to look over their menus, so the table ordered their food. Minutes passed. While Stevie was occupied with coloring, and the women were talking to his daughter about some show or movie he’d never heard of, Javier leaned his way and whispered for only him to hear, “Why does Olivia think I play baseball?”

The blonde man’s eyebrows knit together as he thought over the question. Why would Olivia think that Javi played baseball? It hit him: the conversation Connie and he had the day before on their way to the party after the ceremony. They used baseball terms to discuss whether the newlyweds would figure out how to fool around on the drive back to the reception.

He leaned toward his friend to reply just as quietly, “She wasn’t supposed to mention it to you.”

“Mention what?”

“It was nothing.”

“It was obviously something because your daughter is under the impression that I am a shitty baseball player.”

Steve had to hold in his laugh, air quickly leaving his nose. He needed to give his friend some kind of answer.

“You know how Connie and I use ‘folding laundry’ as a codeword?” he whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Well, we were talking more in-depth about the topic, but we used baseball terminology, so if the children overheard, they wouldn’t know what the hell we were talking about.”

“And it was about me…?”

“Yes.”

“Why were you discussing my sex life…?”

“You really wanna know?”

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.”

“Okay. I was being an ass and bet Connie that you horndogs wouldn’t be able to keep it in your pants on the drive to the party.”

“She would’ve lost. I hope she didn’t take it.”

“Of course, she didn’t, and I sure as hell didn’t take her bet that you guys would be able to wait until you got back to the hotel to score the first run on opening day.”

“Consummate our marriage?”

“Yeah.”

“That was a losing bet, too.”

“How the hell did you manage that with your wife driving?” he harshly whispered. She drove the two of them from the ceremony to Chucho’s house. “Wait, don’t tell me.”

“It was later on our way to the hotel,” he told him anyway. “We stopped in a field.”

“Are you guys trying to get arrested?”

“It was in the middle of nowhere. We were fine.”

Whatever happened to saving those kinds of activities for the bedroom?

“Uh huh, right.”

“Hold on a second, if Olivia overheard your baseball shit and assumed I played, where’d she get the idea that I’m bad at it? Did you fucking tell her that?”

Again, Steve had to keep himself from laughing, but this time, when he whispered, his voice was a little squeaky. “Maybe…”

His friend sat back to glare at him and forgot to keep his voice low. “You asshole.”

“You ass’ole!” the three-year-old in Javi’s lap parroted. “You ass’ole!”

The other man’s eyes rounded. “Oh, Shit. I mean, shoot.”

Steve groaned. “Goddammit, Javier,” he hissed.

“OH, SHI’!” Stevie yelled at the top of his lungs. He turned his head to look at Steve, pointing at him. “Daddy, you ass’ole!”

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Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know! 

[touyasdoll]

Kinktober Potion #1: Size Kink ft. Eijirou Kirishima

pairing: Eijirou Kirishima x fem reader

warnings: minors dni, oral (f receiving), much softer than I expected it to be, intimate, please let me know if I missed any <3

word count: 1.5k

Kinktober '24 - The Kinky Cauldron Masterlist

"It's not gonna fit," you say, still ogling the intimidating length and girth of Eijirou's cock in a daze.

"S'gonna fit, baby. I'll make it," he purrs, looming over you in the bed to catch you chin between his thumb and forefinger.

He kisses you, slow and sweet and gentle. It soothes your nerves as he swirls his tongue into your mouth, letting it tangle with yours before he runs it across your bottom lip.

You've both worked up a sweat in your efforts so far, writhing and desperately exploring each others' bodies on top of your bed. His clothes were the first to go and just the outline of him in his boxers was enough to make you doubt how much of him you'll be able to take.

But now that you're here, your body laid bare for him and lost in the heady scent of your clean sheets and his alluring cologne mixed with his natural musk, you've very unsure of your pussy's ability to take on that monster.

"We just gotta work you up to it," he purrs, his lips meeting the skin of your jaw.

He slowly makes his way down your body, leaving featherlight kisses in his wake. Your breath hitches when he arrives at your hips and sucks hard enough to leave a faint mark behind on each of them.

His massive hands grip your hips firmly and even when he's nestled between your thighs, his frame still seems to swallow you whole. His ruby red gaze seems to burn and his mouth turns up on one side in a devastating smirk that sends all of the blood in your body pulsing to your clit.

"You're gonna be just fine, baby," he murmurs against your slit, his warm breath fanning over your most sensitive area before he parts you with his tongue.

"Fuck!" You gasp, letting a lewd moan loose from your throat as your back arches for him.

Your legs fall open, but you can't help but squirm as his tongue starts laving your slit, the tip teasing your entrance and familiarizing itself with your folds.

He groans, laying flat against the mattress to grind his leaking cock against the sheets even as his long legs hang off the bed. His lips wrap around your clit and he begins to suck, gently at first, but steadily gaining pressure as his tongue flicks up and down.

"O-oh my God," you pant, reaching down to push your fingers into his hair. "Please keep doing that. Never stop doing that."

You swear you can feel the grin that spreads across his lips before he doubles his efforts, focusing his mouth on your clit, because he would rather die than deny you this when you sound so pretty asking for it.

Your orgasm is already swelling inside of you when you feel the tip of his long, wide digit nudging into your entrance. He can feel the way you clench before he's even inside and it draws another groan from deep in his chest as his hips continue to roll.

He's desperate to replace his finger with his cock, but he can be patient, because he knows he has to be. He's only here to please you and he knows that no matter how much he works you open, it's still going to sting some when he claims you.

He slowly glides one finger inside, taking your salacious sounds as permission to keep going. He pistons his digit in and out, working it deeper with each pump until he's able to add another.

"Eijirou," you breathe out with what air you have left in your lungs. "M'close. So fucking close."

The pressure on your clit lessens for a moment as he easily slips a third finger inside of you and then he starts devouring your pussy like his life depends on it, working his tongue and fingers in tandem. It doesn't allow you a moment of reprieve, forcing you over the edge in a powerful volley that has you gushing into his mouth.

Stars seem to burst in the edges of your vision and the next thing you know, he's on top of you again. His mouth is slick with the evidence of your orgasm and he lifts a hand to wipe the excess from his chin.

"That should do it," he rasps, his voice a deep promise as he leans down to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his skillful tongue.

He pushes himself up and leans back, getting himself positioned to notch the swollen head of his cock against your core. His eyes find your face and he waits for you to look up.

You find a kind reassurance in his gaze as he runs his warm hand along your thigh and gives it a squeeze.

"I'll go slow, okay? If you need me to stop or if I hurt you, just say so," he instructs.

You nod, swallowing the rest of your apprehension as you let your body relax. You keep your eyes locked on his face, watching his eyes fall closed as he pushes in an inch.

The gasp that escapes you is inevitable, but seeing the intoxicated look on his face soothes the sting of the initial stretch. He is massive and this is going to take some effort, but fucking this gentle giant of man is going to be worth it.

And fucking him when he feels comfortable enough not to hold back is going to be glorious.

"Keep going," you urge him, offering a little nod of encouragement.

"Fuck, baby," he sighs, resting his weight on one of his hands while the other brackets your hip.

He slowly eases in inch by inch, giving you time to adjust as you trade needy moans and intimate glances. The sight of him filling you up so completely is breathtaking in every sense of the word, but it's nothing compared to the look on his face when he's finally buried inside of you.

"So big," you murmur, keeping your gaze on his as he leans in. "It's so fucking big, Eiji."

"I know," he whispers, his forehead connecting with yours as he cups your face, dwarfing it in his grasp. "I know, baby, but you're doing so fucking good. M'gonna move, okay?"

"Mhm," you hum, nodding slightly.

"Good girl," he praises you, pressing a slow, tender kiss to your mouth as he draws back out.

He swallows the groan that leaves you and deepens the kiss, softening the blow as he pushes in again. The stretch hurts, but it feels so good that you don't care.

"Keep going," you pant, resting your hands on either side of his neck. "I can take it. I want it. Please, baby."

"But—," he starts and you cut him off by shifting your hips forward.

Your mouth drops open and so does his, a shuddered moan slipping free from the both of you. His eyes alight with something darker than what you've seen in him so far and it's enough to make your entire body tense in the best way possible.

"Please," you repeat and he obliges, rutting his hips at a steady pace until he's pumping in and out of you with ease.

"Fuck, you're perfect," he groans, quickening his pace as his lips meet your clavicle to start leaving searing kisses across your chest and neck.

He grits his teeth, driving into your faster still, but you can tell he's still definitely holding back. Words have already failed you, so you spur him on by locking your legs around his hips and in response, he looses a feral growl into your ear.

Something snaps in him and he readjusts, tugging you further beneath him to get impossibly deeper as he starts thrusting with abandon. Your cervix feels the brunt of each stroke, creating an overwhelming and all consuming sense of pressure throughout your entire body.

"E-Eiji!" You cry out, digging your nails into his muscular back as you cling to him for dear life.

It does nothing to temper the explosion that rocks you when you cum. The force of it has your body convulsing as you howl with pleasure. A chaotic song of his name laced with curses bounces off the walls and is met with the sound of him practically snarling as your own walls squeeze him so tightly that he has no choice but to follow you into oblivion.

If you first orgasm was disorienting, this one has completely displaced you in the universe. You're only vaguely aware of the weight of him hovering an inch above you, his chest hammering just as hard as your own.

"Holy shit," he sighs, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

"Mm," is all that you can muster.

Your eyes are still closed when he carefully collapses beside you and draws you into his arms. His fingertips begin slowly dragging along your spine, sending pleasant shivers through you as you settle into his embrace.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head as his eyes fall closed and he murmurs, "I knew you could take it."

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Cute 1902 church conversion in Savannah, GA. 4bds, 4ba, 3,200 sq ft, $1.6m.

Look at how nicely it fits into the neighborhood.

They constructed a beautiful covered porch out front.

Double doors open to the main living area.

Love the colorful windows. I wonder if you can see thru them, though.

They've got very colorful furniture and the large open room is separated into areas by using furniture. This is more of a formal guest area with modern furniture in this corner.

In the opposite corner they've got a baby grand piano.

Then, next to the piano, they have a completely different look- more comfortable, traditional furniture forms a homey family room area.

Next to the contemporary corner, they have the formal dining table.

At the front of the room, most likely where the former altar was, there's a kitchen with gothic arches.

I wonder if the stove has one of those exhaust fans that pop up in the back. I really hate kitchens w/o exhaust- they get so smokey & greasy.

The back of the kitchen has an open gothic window looking into a den.

Stairs to the 2nd level bedrooms are behind the den. There are also stools and a counter. That's pretty nice- a 2 sided kitchen.

Good sized bedroom.

Very nice ensuite shower room with a pretty bowl sink.

Large children's room with 2 double beds.

Plus an ensuite bath. I like the black toilet- usually all the fixtures match.

Bedroom #3 is also a large space.

Each bedroom has its own ensuite.

I think that this is the principal bedroom.

The ensuite also has a black toilet. Well, there should be a little something different, b/c all 4 baths are almost exactly alike.

On the side of the home there's another entrance.

A path goes around the back to a large yard with a patio.

The home is on a .27 acre lot and it looks like there's a neighboring church behind it.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/2716-Mechanics-Ave-Savannah-GA-31404/248653973_zpid/

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Lost Somewhere in Time

A/n: don’t ask where this idea came from but I have like twenty more scenarios with this same plot

You time travelled and James wanted to see how much he improved in fucking you???

Warnings: smut, fingering (f receiving), whiny James, dom James, slight daddy kink, praising, double penetration, overstimulation, size kink, it’s not specified but (younger) James is a virgin, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Part 2 Part 3

“You’re not fucking doin’ it right.” James said, swatting his younger self on the top of his head. “She’s never gonna cum like that!” He groaned.

You were sitting in young James’s lap, naked, back against his clothed chest. You were in his room, on his bed, the blonds older version sat next to you and watching closely, judging the younger technique.

“At least I can still get it up.” James grumbled, chin resting on your shoulder as he watched what he was doing, rubbing the general area of your cunt with three flattened fingers. It didn’t feel bad, per se, but you were used to the more experienced hands of your silver devil.

James scoffed. “Yeah, that’s not helping you finger her.” The short haired man said while the other rolled his eyes. “Look, one finger and just push it in slow.” He directed, arms crossed over his chest, watching as his younger self grudgingly did as he said.

Your face scrunched as he pushed a finger in. “Daddy.” You whined, looking to the boyfriend you knew.

“I know, I know, sweetheart.” He assured, rubbing your thigh. “Smaller than you’re used to.”

“Bitch!” James yelled, hand snapping -he wanted to slap himself but stopped, remembering he was still with a beautiful woman that he couldn’t wait to call his- and making you moan.

You’re glad you met James when you did, 80’s James was not exactly great with his hands yet, they weren’t thick like you were used to, slim and flimsy. You weren’t wet, but his older counterpart had at least guided him enough to use his spit as lube.

“Do that.” The older said. The younger looked back to you, pushing his finger in and pulling it out a moment later. “Faster, hard and fast, like a guitar.”

“M’not a guitar.” You mumbled, running your hand up the younger arm, amused at his untatted skin. It was a new sight, definitely a fun one.

“I know, but he’s stupid.”

“I’m you!”

“And I was stupid.” Their voices were different, one higher and cleaner, whinier, the other was deeper and raspier, more commanding and dominant, but they both that boyish sunshine to them.

James huffed, brows furrowed in annoyance and frustration. He looked back to you, placing a few kisses on your cheek and jaw, moving down your neck while his wrist repeated the snapping motion until the room filled with your moans.

“That’s it, that’s my good girl.” Older James encouraged, eyes flickering between your needy cunt , sucking in the younger’s fingers over and over as he added a second and then a third, and pretty expressions, face morphing in pleasure. “Right there, there it is, oh, that’s so good, isn’t it, sweetheart?” He mused, watching you cum, back arching against James chest.

He wore a band shirt and jeans, both clearly having been worn for ages, now there was a wet spot soaking into his jeans. His free hand was on your side, arm over your stomach and holding you tight to him, forcing you to push back into him.

“Give ‘er here.” The older said, nodding to you and gesturing with his hands.

“Why?” The younger asked, getting possessive over you now. Same man, different packaging. “She’s good here, nice and comfy, with someone her own fucking age, weirdo.”

The older man didn’t care for his words and rolled his eyes, pulling you onto his lap. “My turn.” You got nice and comfy in his lap, the familiarity of his size, encompassing you in his warmth.

His hand, gruffer and thicker than the others, went to your neglected clit, rubbing it between two fingers. “Oh, that’s nice, isn’t it?” He asked, kissing the other side of your face, making his own marks on you, darker and more prominently placed.

You nodded eagerly, hooking your knees over his. The younger was given a full view of your anatomy, eyes wide and lips parted slightly.

A wide smile spread across your face as the James behind you rubbed you senseless and you reached for the James in front of you. “C’mere.” You bubbled.

He didn’t need to be told twice, hurriedly getting to his feet, tossing his shirt aside and hopping out of his jeans, nearly tripping over them as they got stuck on his big ass grippers, something you constantly teased your boyfriend over -he put an end to that recently, making you ride his boot after you made a joke on a bad day.

His boxers were soaked through with his cum from earlier, peeling off his hard cock sticky. He climbed onto the bed and reached for your hips, pulling you closer until he was lined up with you.

Oddly enough, he looked up to his older self, who was just giggling at the size difference. Not to say that he was ever really small, but he definitely got better as time went on.

He pushed into you with a groan, eyes screwing shut and jaw dropping in pleasure. He couldn’t hold himself back, hips rutting and thrusting into you, bucking helplessly into your warmth.

“Fuck, you don’t care about her at all.” The silver headed man grumbled, fingers still on your sensitive nub. He pulled away from you for a moment, pulling down his jeans and pulling himself out of his boxers.

As soon as you heard the zipper you knew what was to come but nothing could prepare you for the stretch of double James, eyes shooting open and a cry ripping from you.

You lurched forward, arms wrapping around the younger and clawing at his shoulders, making him groan -the noise was high and really it barely classified as a groan, he moaned right in your ear and they only got needier as he got closer, feeling James grinding against him inside you, it was all too much for him.

The sound of the twins moans and groans, grunts and whines, in opposite ears at the same time, it was melodic. You didn’t even have to do anything but sit pretty on your knees for them, let them fuck you into oblivion.

“Fuck, I-I can’t- oh god.” The younger mumbled, muffling his voice by hiding his face in your neck. His thrusts were losing the little rhythm they had as he spilled his seed in you. He kept moving, overstimulating himself, cock twitching and pulsing inside you, tears brimming his eyes.

The older of the two leaned down to your ear, nipping your earlobe while he chuckled, a low grumble of a noise. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m not even close yet.” It was a brag, a brag that he could last longer than himself but a brag nonetheless.

The other James heard it, whining into your other ear as he forced himself to keep going, not ready to admit he wasn’t ready for this, for you.

[aft4rhours]

cnc with step brother jungkook with breeding kink and maybe a lil free use 😇 plsplsplsplsplsplspls

this is... 😵‍💫 anyway 🩷

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: forbidden romance, step!siblings au

warnings: yandere, pseudo incest, mentions of violence (not towards the reader), cnc, free use, dirty talk, jealousy, possessiveness, praise, degradation, hints of exhibitionism, breeding kink, creampie, aftercare

It was quiet and warm inside the caravan. The chirping of insects and rustle of leafs outside were steadily replaced by rainfall, the hypnotic, repetitive tapping almost lulling you to sleep. Jungkook breathed softly against you, his arm thrown over your waist, making the most of the time he had to lay closer to you.

This was an inconvenience for one night only, your father promised.

There was no rush to reach your destination, and the weather started taking a turn for the worse. Rather than driving in a storm during nightfall, he announced an unplanned rest stop near the mountains; an idea his worn out wife wholeheartedly supported.

Courtesy of his own pocket, the caravan was spacious, up to the most modern standards, and the pull out beds comfortable, with fluffy pillows and thick sheets.

Unfortunately, there was only two of those.

But they were nearly wide enough to be considered doubles, so you and Jungkook wouldn't be squeezed together, he assured. You didn't mind, did you? You always got along so well, after all.

It was a wonderful thing for parents to witness. And whatever they didn't witness couldn't hurt them. In reality, they didn't know — no one knew — that Jungkook loved you a little too much.

Or what was concealed within your own heart.

At home, he had to sneak around to be with you. When out, he had to watch other men flirt with you, blatantly ignoring his presence, and the nights would either end with him breaking someone's bones or your bed.

It was tiring, having to hide his feelings. Not being able to hold your hand, kiss you, show you off; mark his territory. The weight of the secret was getting too heavy to hold, a boulder that seemed to graze all of Jungkook's insecurities. The stinging pain fed his obsession to unhealthy lengths.

So much that it wasn't a thought anymore, but a need that stirred in his body, a phantom that gained flesh and bones.

And it craved more flesh in return.

He didn't even notice when his hand moved to your ass, kneading and squeezing, but the hitch of your breath brought him back to reality.

The rain. The thunder. The caravan. Your parents, sound asleep in their bed, separated by no more than a few inches from yours.

His cock felt hot and stiff in his boxers, straining against the fabric, twitching as his fingertips brushed the hem of your underwear.

He brought his lips to your ear, sliding his hand down onto your thigh.

"Open," he breathed.

Your heart jumped, eyes stuck on your dad's silhouette, his back turned towards you.

"H-here?" you whispered, panic making your throat close up.

Jungkook nodded, his free hand crawling under your shirt.

"Yeah," he sighed, tapping your thigh. "Here."

You felt him grope you, thumb and forefinger twisting your nipple, the touch slow and sensual. Your spine arched like a bow, your heart strung tight and ready to shoot out. There was no way you could do this; not with your parents right there, sleeping in front of you.

Jungkook snuck his hand in between your thighs, prying them open. You gasped, fear spiked with arousal making your tummy clench tightly.

"Having trouble following instructions?" Jungkook asked, pulling your panties down. "Pussy and brain too empty?"

You couldn't hold back the noise in your throat, breathy and so needy it made the swollen tip of his cock start drooling. Wrapping his hand around the thick shaft, he pressed it against you, meeting zero resistance to the pressure.

You were so eager to be filled; so wet, throbbing and soft. Jungkook sank inside, mouth agape and eyes fluttering shut, stretching the little hole out lewdly.

"Oh," he huffed out, weak, "fuck yes."

He didn't know why he was getting so hot; in the shadows of a late, summer night, it wasn't like your parents would be able to see much, and the rainstorm wreaking havoc outside the windows was almost enough to drown out the squelch of his lazy strokes.

But the thought of sliding the sheets down a little — just like that — exposing your cute, puffy cunt swallowing his cock, making what he was doing all the more obvious, made him ache.

And so he did.

The second you startled, Jungkook grabbed your neck.

"Shut up," he whispered, "shut the fuck up and stay still. If you'll make noise, they'll wake up. And I'm gonna come either way, baby."

You hid your face in his neck, a whisper of a whine hitting his burning skin, and a clench halting his movements.

"Oh... Hah."

He tightened his grip on your thigh and held your leg up, thrusting slowly. It was a steady rhythm, more than enough to make him reach stars; fuck condoms and fuck pulling out tonight. He rarely got to come inside you, and right now he needed it more than ever.

"Yeah," he praised, his voice shaky, "just like that."

He released your neck in favor of sliding his hand down, his finger slipping onto your clit to rub it softly. Your nails dug into his arm, and it did nothing but make him groan.

"You like it, don't you? Gonna come inside you. Knock you the fuck up, right here."

Your pussy was tightening and so was the knot in his stomach. You were getting louder, but he didn't care; let them see. He didn't give a damn if your parents woke up and caught you. Perhaps that would finally motivate you to move away from here, start a new life somewhere where no one knew you, and your love didn't have to be a secret.

The same applied if you got pregnant... And there was no holding these thoughts back anymore. Not when he was literally fucking his little sister behind his parents' back, and her slutty cunt was trying to milk him dry.

"I can't," you whimpered into his neck, "N-no, I'm gonna—"

"Fuck yeah," he groaned.

His pace began to pick up, still soft, but impatient, the pad of his finger on your little nub even more so. He rubbed you faster, feeling your hips gyrating unconsciously and your warm pussy spasming.

"Good girl, yeah, take it. Gonna—" he swallowed thickly, breathless, "make me come... And let me breed you full, yeah? Let everyone see who you belong to, little whore."

Fuck, fuck — you were coming, and he had to assault your mouth to muffle the noise, including the hoarse moans spilling past his own lips. God, he could feel it — his eyebrows scrunching, the hot, tingling pleasure reaching a boiling point, his cock digging in as deep as it would go. It twitched, painting your walls white until his cum dribbled down your thighs.

For a moment, black dots danced in his vision. When he could breathe again, he tried to open his eyes, feeling the silk of the sheets touching his sweaty skin. A chuckle escaped him as you snuggled into him, covering up your bodies. You were so cute. So fucking precious.

"You okay? Was it good, baby?" He murmured, nuzzling your neck.

All rhetorical questions, if his smug tone was anything to go by.

You shivered, too fucked out to answer. Jungkook sighed, peppering your shoulder with kisses. His palm absentmindedly caressed your abdomen, and thunder rolled through the sky, the wind whistling faintly outside the caravan.

Good trip.

He had a whole week to fuck you full; in the backseat, in your tents, in the woods. And he'd go at it all night, and teach you to take it quietly... Just in case. Just for now.

Fighting the urge to sleep, he fished out his phone and squinted at the dim screen, opening up a search engine, while his hand still massaged your tummy.

They'd probably have nice apartments somewhere in Seoul... And you could transfer to a better college.

Seemed like a perfect place to start looking.

Just in case. Just for now.

[stillebesat]

[4ranghaes]

threesome with mulmyungz.. 👉👈

mulmyungz x reader [smut, fem!reader, reader and leehan are in an established relationship]

warnings - SMUT!!!! MDNI!!!!!! perv!sub!jaehyun, switch!reader, dom!leehan, nicknames (princess/mummy for reader, pup/puppy for myungjae, sir for leehan), some spanking, colour system established, ball gag, edging/ruined orgasm, double blowjob, spit kink, cum feeding, cum swallowing, voyeurism, overstimulation, mentions of chastity cage

a/n - well if you insist…😏

00:01 - “fuck, donghyun-”

he smirked, his hands placed firmly on the arch in your back. your head was smushed against the mattress, hands gripping at the bedsheets either side of your head as your boyfriend ploughed into you from behind. he was grunting and groaning, the movement of his hips relentless. you could barely breath, barely see, but you didn’t care - not as one of his hands ran up your back, stopping to deliver a harsh smack to your ass before dipping below, circling your clit.

you started moaning loudly, leehan’s chuckles sounding behind you. “oh you sound so beautiful, princess,” he spoke loudly, an attempt to be heard over the moans, “my good girl, so responsive.”

leehan’s eyes weren’t on you though, they were on the crack in his bedroom door, the lighting from the hallway flooding in. as far as you had been aware, before leehan had got you in this position, you two were alone in the dorms. of course, he knew that you wouldn’t let him fuck you, especially not at this decibel, if anyone else were home, so he may have embellished the truth. not just for himself though, no, he’d actually consider it charity work more than anything.

the lighting was blocked now, not that you’d notice, a pair of shy eyes peeking round the door, staring at your arched back, at you red ass from where leehan had been delivering repeated, harsh smacks. leehan smirked at his leader.

“little perv,” he muttered.

jaehyun didn’t know he knew. he didn’t know anyone knew. but all the members did. jaehyunie’s little kink of listening to others. sex, masturbation, he didn’t care. they knew he popped boners easily, that’s one thing, but treating them with perving? with spying and peeking? but leehan was entertained with the notion, especially when it concerned you. so, he decided to make it easy for his horned-up hyung, he left the door open.

“come here, baby,” leehan cooed, jaehyun’s eyes moving shocked up to his friend’s face at the words. but leehan was staring down at you with a loving gaze, as one of his hands gripped your hair, the other firmly taking hold of one of your breasts. he dragged your body up so your back was to his chest, the hand that was in your hair now gripping your face, “oh my good girl. you look so fucked out, look in the mirror.”

the mirror that was next to the door.

you were panting, whining as you opened your eyes, flitting up to the mirror. you caught leehan’s eyes in the reflection, blown out and wild, like they always were when you fucked - they suddenly moved to the right. you followed, letting out a yelp, suddenly falling from grace as your eyes fell on myung jaehyun. his head was tipped back, eyes squeezed shut as he jerked off at the same, audible, pace of leehan’s hips.

“leehan!” you suddenly exclaimed, gripping the wrist of the hand that was working tirelessly on your clit. but leehan was no novice, and he’d been dreaming of this situation for so long. before you could say anything, rat anyone out, leehan’s hips hit so deliciously inside of you, his fingers grazing just the right spot you came without warning, moaning loudly, your boyfriend’s hands on your body the only thing holding you up.

“oh i know,” leehan cooed, kissing your cheek as his grip remained harsh on your face, “it’s so much isn’t it? i haven’t come yet though, princess, you gonna help me o-”

“leehan,” you whispered harshly, turning to look at him as best you could in his position, panic written all over your face, “jaehyun!”

“jaehyun?” he repeated loudly, feigning ignorance as you shook your head, panicked, “why are you thinking about him right now?”

“no!” you whispered, incredulously, “h-he’s at the door!”

leehan smirked, putting on an angry face as his head snapped to the door. jaehyun looked like a deer in headlights, a real pervert caught with his hand still on his exposed, angry cock. the man whimpered.

“jaehyun!” leehan yelled, starting to circle your clit slowly, “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

you gasped, grabbing his wrist, “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“i-i’m sorry,” jaehyun murmured, moving to turn around.

“wait,” leehan commanded, the man listening with blown out eyes, “come in.”

he applied more pressure to your clit, silencing any complains you could’ve held as you gasped.

“tell me what you were doing,” your boyfriend spoke, jaehyun’s eyes were facing the floor, while both your’s and leehan’s were on him. “go on. you little pervert.”

jaehyun whimpered again, “i-i was masturbating over you two. i-i’m sorry, r-really. it won’t happen again.”

“masturbating,” leehan scoffed at his word choice, “you’re such a little freak. do you get off to the sight of my girlfriend? naked, stuffed with my cock? bet you wish she was doing that for you.” jaehyun started sniffling, tears beginning to leak from his eyes. leehan smirked, “or is it me? do you wish i was fucking you? telling you how good you’re doing for me.”

jaehyun looked up with panicked eyes, meeting leehan’s smirking face as he just shrugged.

“i-i don’t know,” jaehyun sobbed, head falling back down to the floor.

you looked back at your boyfriend who just smiled at you. “didn’t you say you wanted to try domming the other day, baby?” he hummed, “i think i found the perfect sub for you.”

you started laughing, looking to jaehyun who stared at you, dumbfounded. you could tell he was having a hard time not looking at your boobs. “you think i can?”

“i think he’ll obey anything anyone tells him, baby,” leehan hummed, taking his hard cock out of you before moving to approach jaehyun, wiping the tears off his cheeks, “such a good puppy. and besides, we have to punish him, so i’ll help out.”

jaehyun shook his head in response to the word ‘punishment’, leehan nodding in turn with a pout on his lips. he turned to you with a sickly sweet smile, “can you get the box for me, princess?” he turned back to his leader, “and you, get on the bed.”

jaehyun sniffled, trying to dry up his tears, doing immediately as leehan said, climbing on the bed and sitting against the headboard. you put the box of toys on the end of the bed, leehan giving a quick kiss to the top of your head as you went and kneeled in front of jaehyun.

“so pretty,” you hummed, smiling, wiping his tears off his soft cheeks, “even when you cry.”

leehan smiled, handing you a gag shaped like a dog treat. he’d bought it especially for this very moment. he’d been dreaming about a wet, perving jaehyun, just tied up and choking around a dog toy, really living up to his puppy name. wordlessly, he nodded to jaehyun, who’d bit his lip as soon as he’d laid his eyes upon it.

“we use a colour system,” leehan said, tapping jaehyun’s cheek so his head rolled in his direction, “either i’ll check in, or you just say it. if you can’t say it, tap one of our shoulders. okay?”

jaehyun nodded quickly, his pupils dilated beyond belief, his eyes big and helpless. leehan shook his head, jaehyun swallowing as he tried to think about what his friend would want, “yes, sir.”

the name made leehan laugh, “sir. ah, what a good pup. now open up.”

jaehyun whimpered before opening his mouth, submitting immediately to the gag. you tied it around the back of his head, leaving a kiss on his cheek as you came back round. you pouted as you looked at his still-exposed cock.

“oh baby,” you cooed, hand dancing over his thigh as you pulled his basketball shorts down his tanned thighs, running your fingers gently up his bare skin. “you look so hard. do you want mummy to sort that for you?”

leehan’s eyes widened as he watched. mummy. he’d have to save that one for later.

myungjae nodded, tears lining his eyes once again as you started nodding along with him, a fake pout on your lips. your hand moved to run up his cock, running over the head to gather all the precum that had gathered, using it as a lube as you went back down and up, down and up. jaehyun’s head flew back against the headboard, whining helplessly around the gag, spit beginning to gather at the sides. you held a wicked smile on your face, watching the man in front of you slowly turn to ruin.

“does that feel good, baby?” you cooed, jaehyun nodding in response, “tell me when you’re about to cum, okay? just tap mummy on the thigh, she’s got something extra special for you.”

leehan could see a smile struggle to appear on jaehyun’s face, nodding repetitively at nothing, even as you finished talking. you could feel the boy’s cock start to twitch in your hand, raising your eyebrows in anticipation at him as he started to grab at the fat of your thigh.

“are you going to cum, myung? you close?” you pouted, waiting until his body had started flailing with the build up of his orgasm before you ripped your hand away, a smile overtaking your lips at his sad, shocked eyes.

he whined loudly, leehan coming and sitting beside you, cupping the boys face, “what’s wrong, hyung? you can’t handle a little punishment?”

tears fell from his eyes, leehan pouting in faux sadness as your hand crept back onto jaehyun’s cock. he was trembling, his body convulsing as he whined at the feeling of your hand. he was gasping for breath, leehan’s thumb stroking his cheek gently, “it’s okay, baby boy. dumb puppy just wants to cum, hmm?”

jaehyun nodded tearily as you laughed, “not yet, pup.”

“but look at our little puppy, y/n, doesn’t he look so desperate?” leehan pouted, looking to you.

you smirked, “he does look desperate.” your hand didn’t let up on his cock, his pre-cum thick, covering the length and your hand. you looked up at him with big eyes, “but just one more, can you do that for me, puppy?”

jaehyun shivered, nodding, tears falling freely from his eyes, spit dripping down his chin onto his chest as he cried and whined. leehan’s hand went to where the globs landed, scooping it all up before shoving his spit-covered fingers in his mouth, licking them clean.

you chuckled, watching your boyfriend. while he was so taken with jaehyun, you moved your hand, gripping his length too. leehan groaned loudly at the feeling, maintaining eye contact with his leader as he did so. jaehyun’s eyes widened at the sound, and the intimate nature of the gesture, before he started moaning too.

you took your hand off jaehyun’s cock, the man trembling beneath you. you cooed, “it’s okay, it’s okay.” your hand moved to the back of his head, removing the gag. you placed it on the bed beside you before returning your hands to both the men’s cocks, both of them moaning loudly in sync.

“kiss him,” you said, staring at jaehyun.

he was dazed, his pleasure having gone to his head. his head lolled as he looked down to you, “hmmm?”

“donghyun, kiss him,” you said, your boyfriend smirking before grabbing his friend’s face with one hand, smashing his lips to jaehyun’s spit-covered, pouting lips. leehan shifted so he was kneeling beside him, one hand gripping his face, the other playing with the curls on the back of his head.

they both moaned, leehan laughing slightly while he ruined jaehyun even further. smirking as you watched their mouths move against each others’, you tapped leehan’s lap to move him in closer, leaning down and taking both their tips into your mouth, your hands continuing to work on the base of their lengths.

“oh my god, princess,” leehan moaned, his hand carding through your hair, “you’re so good, so fucking good to me.”

“i-i-i’m gonna— i’m gonna cu— oh god– fuck! donghyun!” jaehyun cried, hips trying desperately not to buck up in your face as he came all over your mouth. you moaned, hand moving to leehan’s balls, massaging him to orgasm.

“fuck– princess,” leehan groaned, moans deep as his cum spilled into your mouth.

the two men were left panting, pulling their dicks from your grasp as you sat up. your boyfriend smirked, tapping your cheek as he always did after a blowjob, “come on, then.”

you rolled your eyes, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue, showing the mess from both men. some of the cum started dripping from your tongue, jaehyun’s eyes widening as he witnessed the scene.

“good girl,” leehan cooed, “jaehyun-ah? you want some?”

you smirked, squeezing his face to open his mouth up, the boy sticking his tongue out immediately, as you let some drip down onto him. pulling away, you swallowed your load, jaehyun whimpering as he swallowed his.

“you wanna fuck me, myung?” you cooed, playing with the hair on the back of his head. he shook his head quickly. “oh? then what do you want?”

“i– i—” he stuttered, looking between the two of you, “i– please fuck her.”

leehan laughed condescendingly, “you want me to fuck her while you watch, pup? god you’re such a perv.”

a sob escaped myungjae’s mouth as he shook his head, “not a perv.”

“yes you are, baby,” you cooed, “come on, get comfy then.”

the boy whimpered, pulling leehan’s desk chair out from under the desk and sitting quickly, practically vibrating with expectancy as he watched the two of you get into position. leehan chuckled, looking into your eyes as he fucked you as he normally would. the routine of sex was familiar to the two of you now after dating for so long – he knew what made your body tick and you knew exactly what he liked, when he liked it. your bodies moved in sync, moaning together. suddenly, a high pitched whine broke you from each other, making you smirk as you looked over.

the other boy in the room was sat with his thighs spread apart, his hand moving impossibly fast over his cock, already covered in cum. he was overstimulating himself, high pitched whines escaping him from pain. “p-please don’t stop!”

leehan chuckled, continuing to fuck into you harsher and deeper, your gasps turning to moans as you came with a final thrust of his cock and rounding movement of his fingers, his cum spilling into you moments after. “happy now, perv?” he panted, myungjae moaning loudly at his words.

“we have to put the gag back on him,” you giggled, hiding yourself in leehan’s chest.

“hmm, i think i have something even better,” leehan hummed, kissing your forehead as he set you down. you opened your arms, allowing jaehyun to come crawling into your grasp, cuddling into your body. you carded your fingers through his hair softly, smirking as you saw leehan rummaging through the box.

“mm, what’s he getting for you, pup?” you cooed.

leehan laughed, pulling out a chastity cage he’d once bought for an experiment between the two of you. “a punishment fit for the dorm pervert, wouldn’t you say?”

[pedropascallme]

☆Kinktober 2024☆

Day 6: Orgasm denial

Pairing: Damien Haas x f!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI!!!!), p in v sex, biting, dirty talk, orgasm denial/edging, creampie, dom/sub dynamics, if I missed anything please let me know!

“Don’t,” Damien whispered in your ear. His soft, low voice verged on a growl, and it sent a shiver through your already overstimulated body.

You’d been teasing him all day, purposefully trying to get a rise out of him whenever you could, and, foolishly, you’d thought he’d let you get away with it.

The moment you’d stepped over the threshold, he grabbed you, hauling you off to bed as you feigned outrage and giggled at the way he manhandled you. You acted under the assumption that you were about to get what you wanted, that he was giving into your goading and letting you have it.

You’d miscalculated.

“You cum right now, I’m pulling out,” Now, Damien continued his explanation of what was going to happen, and you whimpered pathetically into his neck.

You’d long lost track of the minutes, the hours that had ticked by since he’d initially dragged you to the bedroom; you’d lost track of the number of times he’d stopped touching you just when you were at the precipice, denying you the apex of pleasure and watching on with a smile as you twitched and begged for release.

But now, as your body was engulfed in the flames of arousal, heat licking at your abdomen with every one of his leisurely thrusts, you felt that disobedience was imminent. There was absolutely no way for you to hold off any longer, not with his body pressed so strongly into yours; not with him grinding against your clit every time he pushed his hips into you; not with the way he moaned low in your ear as he praised the way you felt around him.

“Fuck, you’re so close,” it wasn’t a question, he could feel your walls pulse around him, and he relished the sensation. “But if you cum, you’ll still be so disappointed, won’t you? Spending all day trying to rile me up—it worked, baby, but I know you only act out when you really need it. You cum now and you’ll still want so much more.” He was nosing your neck, nipping at the thin skin there as he muttered against you. “Cum now and I won’t give you anything else.” He doubled down on his initial threat of denying you further satisfaction, of letting you feel him deep and cumming around him, having him prolong your pleasure in favor of leaving you empty to clench around nothing.

“Damien I—I can’t—” You focused all your energy on trying to hold off your high for even just a moment longer. He felt so good, and the intimacy of having him above you, caging you in and forcing you to feel all of him only heightened the bliss. “I need—I’m gonna cum. Feels too good, I’m—I can’t, I’m gonna cum.”

“No, you’re not,” He punctuated his statement with a roll of his hips before continuing at the pace he’d set. “Because who’s in charge?”

“You are,” you moaned, “You are, Damien.”

“That’s right,” he pulled out of you so that only the head of his cock penetrated you, leaving you to aimlessly squirm beneath him in an effort to get the rest of him back. “And that means you cum,” he thrust back into you, hard and fast, filling you to the hilt and watching your face contort in overwhelming pleasure when you cried out for him, “When I fucking,” he repeated the motion, quicker now, “Tell you to.”

“Fuck—!” You clawed at his back, arching into his ministrations.

“Look at me, princess—why am I doing this? Hm? Tell me why you deserve this.” He pressed his forehead to yours, his gaze piercing.

“I—bratty,” you breathed, meeting his eyes with a whine, “I was teasing, I was being bratty, Damien.”

“And now you’re getting what you deserve, right?” Damien’s voice was lilting, softer now than it had been. You could see him lose the veneer of dominance for a moment as he tried to ward off his own high, desperate to be the reason you came, desperate to feel you drench him.

“Yes…” You mumbled, eyes falling closed for a moment. He used this as an opportunity to catch you off guard, ramming himself into you and watching your eyes shoot open again. “Yes!”

“Just say you’re sorry, baby,” he dropped his face into the crook of your neck, “Say you’re sorry and I’ll give you what you want—whatever you need. Say you’re sorry and you get to cum.”

“I’m s—I’m sorry!” You were practically wailing. You lost all pretense of being able to handle his repeated refusal to make you cum. “Damien, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’ll be good from now on, won’t do it again—I’ll never tease like that again.” You whimpered, wrapping your arms around him and trying to bring him closer to you despite the fact that his body already engulfed yours.

“Good girl,” he smiled, moving to lead you in an impatient, hungry kiss. “Good fucking girl—you wanna cum?” He whispered, his lips brushing against your own. “Wanna cum for me?”

“Please…” You trailed kisses down his chin and over his jaw when he tilted his head.

“Think you can wait a little longer?” He asked, and you nodded, bucking your hips gently into him in response. He could feel you begin to squeeze him, your slick dripping down his length and his balls, coating the space between your bodies and creating pornographic sounds. “Gonna count down, princess—you cum when I tell you to.”

You nodded, the electricity at your core finally finding the permission to spread as he started his countdown from ten. With every number he got through, he increased his pace, fucking into you in a rough, frenzied manner, eager to see your pleasure come to a head.

“Go ahead,” he bit into your neck gently when he got to one, “Cum.”

Limbs tense and trembling, you careened into your high.

You screamed, stars dotting your vision. You wrapped your legs around his hips, finally getting what you wanted and set on feeling all of him during this moment of ecstasy.

“Fuck,” Damien hadn’t stopped, hips still moving wildly as you came around him. “You see what good girls get? This what you needed, princess?”

“Need you,” you mustered the strength to mumble into his ear, “Need to feel you cum.”

“Oh, Christ—” Damien groaned, letting his body sag against you, his thrusts wild and deep. “You need me to cum, baby? You want it?”

“Please,” you were exhausted, but you still had the energy to plead with him, “Damien, cum in me, please.”

“Shit—oh—right there, baby, that’s it—fuck!” He came with a groan, nestling his face into you and quietly chanting your name.

Your hand wandered over his body, moving to play with his hair. He kissed you wherever he could reach, letting himself bask in your warmth.

“My good girl,” he smiled, moving to push himself off of you, settling onto his back. He dragged you on top of him.

“You were right, you know,” you planted your hands on his chest and kissed him, taking a moment to appreciate his taste.

“About?” He pressed, hands finding purchase on your hips, digging his fingers gingerly into the flesh there.

“I do still want more,” despite the dull ache in your bones and the weariness that had begun to threaten your mind, you couldn’t help yourself, dragging your hips over him and watching his spend drip from you and onto his abdomen.

“Good,” he moved an arm behind his head, propping himself up to get a proper show of how you moved over him. “Cause I think I need to make up for all the time I spent refusing to let you finish.”

[outlawyunho]

Pretty - Shota Aizawa

word count - 3K synopsis - shota aizawa would do anything for you, even if it meant going past his comfort zone. warnings - she/her reader, drunk! reader, aizawa is the king of consent lets be real, coercion, reader is a horny mess but so is aizawa, aizawa is S-O-F-T for reader lemme tell you, some kissing, grinding, heavy petting (maybe?), dub-con if you squint, idk this was entirely self indulgent im not gonna lie to you minors do not interact

It's not like this was the first time he'd seen you utterly shit-faced. No, not in the slightest. He's known you for years, since high school when he was just a floppy haired emo boy and you were a goddess that decided three dorks were her best friends. He's seen you drunk countless times over the years, thanks to Mic and his ability to make you forget you are a grown up. A Pro-Hero at that. But you were too persuaded by your friends' efforts to have a good time. Shot after shot after shot- Aizawa lost count after the fifth double shot that you pounded back, giggling with Mic as Aizawa watched you wipe the liquor that was trailing down your chin.  He should have known right then he was in for a hell of a night.

"Okay, just..shit.. okay.." He's struggling, he really is, between your limp body held to his chest by his strong arm that's wrapped around your waist and the effort it took to get you here, in his apartment, he's more than happy to tuck you to sleep in his bed and call it a night on the couch. Expect you're not only drunk, you're high. High off some dank smelling stuff Midnight pulled out of her purse while you were all waiting for the cab. Aizawa loves his friends but sometimes he loathes them so completely it drives him mad. Face pinched tight, the tips of his ears blushed a deep crimson. That's how he looked standing beside you outside the bar as you swayed and laughed as you hit the thick blunt Mic passed you. 

He drops you as carefully as he can onto his large couch, winded and tired as he tosses his keys on the coffee table and loosens his tie. You lay there giggling to yourself as you stare up at him, your eyes redder than his at this point. His hair is tucked back in a loose attempt at a half up bun, the strands that normally lay over his eyes tucked neatly behind his ears, and his face is clean shaven and flushed from lugging your nearly limp body up the stairs.

"You're so pretty." You coo and fuck if it doesn't make his stomach flip- but you're drunk. Completely wasted in fact and he knew it when you had told Mic before the two of you had left that you thought he was an amazing singer. Aizawa knows for a fact that's a lie. 

"Yeah, yeah. You're so fucking gone. How does your body even handle that much alcohol?" His voice is gruff but there's a fondness in it. Because of course there is. He loves you. Has loved you since said emo days. It's never stopped, never ceased in the slightest. Why else would he deal with your excessively drunk ass? 

You stretch, either completely ignoring or just not hearing his words, stretch nice and big with your arms thrown over you head and your back arched sharply. A hollow moan rumbles out of your mouth and through his apartment and his eyes flicker to the velvet skirt of your dress that has fallen so dangerously close to exposing you. Aizawa looks at the ceiling, jaw clenching, fist balled up in the pockets of his black slacks. 

"So pretty.." Your voice is far off, a gentle murmur to yourself as you keep staring at him like he put the stars in the night sky. 

"Don't be ridiculous." He says about your comment because.. yeah, you're definitely beyond drunk right now. "You need to sleep this off, gonna feel like shit tomorrow."

It's like you dont even fucking hear him. 

"Mm, but I mean it. Think about you so much." You smooth your bare foot down his slack covered thigh, your mouth parted and pretty as you say, "So pretty and kind and strong, drive me crazy, Sho." 

Aizawa can't fucking breathe. Heart pounding in his chest as he looks down at the sight of you, looking so fucked out but he hasn't even touched you. No, this was all your own doing. 

No. This was the alcohol. The weed. You didn't mean it, you were just fucked up. 

"Angel." His voice is a warning and fuck if he can't see the way it makes your whole body shiver. Oh, this isn't good. "You are way too drunk and I am way too sober to have this conversation right now."

"I'm not that drunk!" Expect it's all slurred words and mashed teeth and if you weren't looking at him like you might consume his soul he might have laughed at that. "Don't you want me, Shota?" 

God, his face is burning, dick twitching in his slacks and it washes deep shame through his body. He feels like he's fucking short circuiting, his resolve wobbling like your bottom lip as you look up at him with your most appealing doe eyes. 

"How about, uh, I.. I make you something to eat and then you can sleep this off?" His voice is held together by a wavering thread, words filling his dry mouth as fast as he can form them. He can't do this right now. He needs you to carry your ass to sleep so he can go take care of the massive problem you've brought to life in his pants. 

You sit up, teetering only slightly as you lean you head against the back of the couch and groan, rubbing your thighs together and fuck, Aizawa is doing everything he can to not think about that. You're so….needy. 

"I don't wanna eat, I want you." You peer up at him, and he knows what you're about to do before you even do it. What's worse? He knows he's gonna fucking fall for it. Like he always does. "I guess you don't want me though.." 

Your voice is pathetic, breathy and wounded, and your face is so downtrodden, that frown so deep it sends a pain through Aizawa's heart like a dagger. 

He sits on the couch quickly, locking his gaze on your watery eyes. Fuck, you were actually crying about this. Aizawa wants to die when his dick twitches at the sight of a lone tear tracking down the pretty apple of your cheek. You do things to him, things that no one else is able to do and the worst part is you don't even have to try.

"I didn't say I didn't want you." He says cautiously, thumb wiping the tears away as you turn to him with that fucking pout that never fails to work on him. 

You lean into the warmth of his hand, your own fingers coming to wrap tight around his wrist to keep him there. 

"But.. you keep saying no." You pout and he wants to kiss it off your face. 

"No. I'm saying you're drunk and I'm not gonna take advantage of my best friend because she's drunk. That's not me." His voice is stern. Resolute. But then your mouth parts and the tip of your pretty pink tongue swipes over the tip of his thumb and he almost loses his shit right then and there. 

"You're not taking advantage of me if I want it." You say so coyly and Aizawa snatches his hand back, points an accusing finger at your wicked smiling face. 

"You can't want it if you're drunk, Angel. Stop fighting me on it. The answer is no." He's steady and authoritative on the outside but on the inside his heart is pounding, cock aching within its confines. All Aizawa can really think is "What the fuck is going on?" He'd never seen you act like this before. 

"Okay." You sigh sadly, voice small. You seem to curl in on yourself as you sit next to him but then your head pops up and the hair on the back of his neck stands on end when you press him with the most innocent look. If he didn't know you, he might have fallen for it, but he does know you. Knows that you're a manipulative little shit when you wanted to be, especially when it's to get him to do something he doesn't wanna do. 

"What about.." You start and he's about to cut you off before you can even say whatever ridiculous shit you've managed to think of in the messy state you're in, but he's not quick enough. "Just one little kiss, please Shota?" 

"No, absolutely not." But his stomach does this stupid little flip just at the thought and he can't not look down at your lips. You catch him, eyes glinting as you scoot a little closer. You may be a Pro-Hero but you are a fucking evil women. Sinful in a way that Aizawa isn't sure he can stay away from, no matter his moral compass. 

"Just one itty bitty kiss and I'll go to bed like a good girl, I promise, Sho." You look so good saying it, and sound even better. But Shota Aizawa is not a fool and Shota Aizawa has known you far too long to let something so hormonal ruin one of his most treasured friendships, even if he did want you so badly it was tearing him up inside. 

You shuffle closer, right hand coming down softly on his thigh and his whole body freezes. His eyes slant as he looks over to you. 

"I said-" 

"You won't be doing anything wrong, Shota. I know you'd never take advantage of me." You lean in, ghost you breath across his neck and Aizawa seriously can't fucking breathe. "You're the best friend a girl could ask for, Sho, I know you'd never hurt me " 

Your voice is honey dipped venom and Aizawa's chest seizes when your thumb starts stroking a soft line up and down his thigh. 

No, no, no, no, no. Fuccckk.

Your lips look so soft, bitten and shiny with your spit and so close. He imagines you taste like whiskey and cherries and the spearmint chapstick you made him put in his pocket so you didn't lose it. 

"I…I.." 

"I promise I'll be so good, just for you." 

"Only one." He says and….wait what the fuck did he say? His brain has betrayed him, or maybe it was his dick, doesn't matter when there isn't anytime to process what the fuck he's just agreed to. 

You're pressing your lips to his as his mind flounders, your nails digging into the meat of his thigh as you taste him for the first time after all these years. 

You moan so loud and lewdly, it ricochets around his living room, and his head, and his heart. The sound sends a shiver down both of your spines. You taste just like he thought you would, plush lips pushed against his own. The kiss wasn't anything special but because it was you it was the hottest kiss Aizawa has ever had. 

Only one. Only one. Only one. 

No, he can't, he has to stop this. You taste too sweet, the little moans and whines escaping your throat are doing too much for him. He wants to hear more. Needs to hear more; but not like this. Not when you're drunk. He'd be a horrible friend, a horrible person, if he let this continue. So he pulls away, leaning back, eyes fluttering open, mouth beginning to speak.

He can't get a single fucking thing out when your pushing back towards him, your hands grabbing his face to hold him still. It's him that moans this time, a shocked gaspy moan that you swallow without a second thought. You toss your leg over his lap, grind yourself down against the hard line of his cock beneath his pants. 

This kiss was miles away from the other. Teeth biting against his bottom lip, your tongue licking into his mouth, your hands ruining the bun he had his hair in as you yank the black tie out. And your hips, they won't stop grinding against him, it's so hot but so wrong and that stomach bubbling shame makes its appearance again. He braces his hands on your hips trying, in vain, to stall you but you only work faster. Rutting and whining and whispering his name. 

Oh fuck, oh fuck.

He separates your mouths, bites at his lip when you settle for licking a fat stripe up his neck, sucking just below his ear.

"We can't, we gotta stop." He doesn't know how he manages to get the words out and somehow he's unsure if they even came from him. He's never sounded like this before. What the hell are you doing to him? 

You pin his hands against the back of the couch, something that felt so strange considering he could have you wrapped up in his scarf in barely a second. Except, he doesn't have the scarf at this moment and you've driven his willpower straight into the mud. 

"I'm so sorry, Shota." You whisper into his ear, licking at his ear lobe. "I'm sorry, I just need you so bad."

In that second, with your mouth and hips dizzying his brain, he finally realizes something. 

He wasn't taking advantage of you, you were taking advantage of him. 

The realization hits him so hard he gasps; or maybe that was because you picked that moment to swivel your hips just so that he could feel the way your lips parted under your lace panties and slotted over him. Even through the layers he could feel that wet hot heat. 

"Gotta stop." Was he even trying? "Angel, we have to stop. We g-gotta go to sleep before this gets out of hand." He tries once again to push you away but you only shake your head and clinge tighter, fingers lost in his hair as you chase the release that's been slowly building in your stomach. 

"No." You grit out between this little gasp that has his hands clenching in the skirt of your dress. He doesn't move them, they just sit there gripping the fabric as he thinks about how much of a pathetic weak man he is for letting you trick him like this. "Don't wanna sleep, want you to fill me up. Wanna feel you deep inside me, Shota." You punctate his name with a high pitched whine and that's it, that's all it takes. 

That wavering thread, his moral compass? Gone just from the way you say his name. 

He lunges at you, wraps his hand around the column of your throat and for the first time since you jumped him your hips finally still. 

"You are such a fucking brat." Aizawa growls, squeezing your throat just tight enough to make your head fuzzy. You wanted to play dirty? Fine. He could be dirty too.

He reaches his hand behind you to blindly drag the zipper on the back of your dress down, snatching the front off your shoulders and down your arms. He pulls it down until your bare chest is exposed to him, nipples pebbled in the cool air of his apartment, let's the dress settle around you waist before he's balling his fist in the material and using it to drag your hips against his. 

"Fuckk." He groans, letting his head fall back against the couch. You whimper as you watch him use you now, all that confidence and control gone as you tremble with every grind and rut. He's pushing his hips up into you now, no longer holding back, and the feeling is mind-blowing.

"Shota.." You begin to whisper but he's quickly silencing you with his lips, hungry and searching, as they attack your own. 

"Fucking evil women." He smacks the supple skin of your ass, hard. So hard it has you falling into his chest, burying your nose into his neck. Aizawa grabs the back of your neck with his big hand, presses hard enough that you know that's your place now. You were no longer running the show. 

"Drunk off your fucking ass," he bites out before actually biting into the skin of you shoulder. You whine pathetically, suddenly embarrassed of the sound of your wet soppy cunt humping against his nice trousers. "Can't take no for a fucking answer. Thought you were gonna be a good girl, Angel? What happened to that?" 

You can't speak, your body quivering as you orgasm approaches, a hot white heat that tingles from your head to your toes. You manage to grit out a weak "I'm sorry, Sho.", but it's just about as pathetic as you feel right now. 

"So fuckin' impatient. Why couldn't you have waited till tomorrow?" He grits out, his head spinning. He wouldn't fuck you tonight, that's too far. He knows despite this little performance you've put on that you are in fact still inebriated and he'd never forgive himself if he did something that sober you wouldn't have wanted. But this? If you want to get off so badly, he'll make it happen. 

Because you should know by now- Shota Aizawa would do anything for you. 

"Please." You whimper out even though you're not really sure what you're asking for. But that doesn't matter, because Aizawa knows.

He slips his hand down between the two of you, thumb finding your clit pressed roughly against the wet lace of your panties. He rubs tight, teasing circles over your sensitive nub, kissing and sucking at the soft skin of your chest as he peers up at your pleasure stricken face. You look so beautiful like this, it's addicting, something he's dreamed about for years. To finally experience it though? It was unlike anything he'd imagined, especially when your eyes clamp shut, nails digging into his shoulder as you cum- hard.

"Fuck, Shota!" You gasp around a steady chant of yes yes yes's. "I love you, oh my god, I love you so much, Sho." 

You collapse into his chest, body trembling and jerking every now and then from the small aftershocks that rush through you. He rubs your back as you catch your breath, his lips pressing the sweetest most adoring kisses to your forehead.

"I mean it." You say, breathing heavily through your nose and Shota hums in response as he looks down at where you're cradled to his chest.

"Mean what?" He asks and his breath is ragged, rough sounding. You huff a bit as you adjust your weight in his lap. 

"I'm not that drunk…and that you're pretty…and that..I love you." Your voice is so shy now, so unsure, such a stark comparison from the girl that jumped him only fifteen minutes ago. 

Aizawa feels the heat that rushes to his cheeks, the heavy thud of his heart. He loves you more than you can ever know and hearing you finally say it back, especially while you were grinding against him, was enough to make him cum in his pants.

Which he did. Like a fucking high school kid. It was honestly kinda ridiculous the way you molded him however you wanted to, how he let you do it. He couldn't imagine letting anyone see him the way he allows you to. Only you.

Always you.

"Can we go to sleep now, Angel?" He asks into your temple and you answer with a yawn and a nod, sleepy eyes fluttering shut. 

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ 𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕎𝕖𝕣𝕖 "ℝ𝕠𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕤" ♡

♡ Mature Content! Minors DNI! Warnings below the break ♡

♡ Pairing: ot8!boyfriend!ateez x chubby!fem!reader

♡ Summary: A nice, calm, wholesome movie night with your boyfriends except I lied and nothing but absolute filth happens.

♡ Genre: smut with a sprinkle, a smidge, a barely visible flake of plot

♡ Word Count: 3.6k-ish

♡ Warnings: (issa lot happening so pls lmk if I miss anything) masturbation (f), use of toys (f receiving), oral (f & m receiving), anal penetration & eating (f receiving), unprotected sex (ya'll know not to do that irl!), creampies, edging, double vaginal penetration, things get rough, scratching, gagging, pet names (good girl, bad girl, slut, le usual)

♡ A/N: I wrote this with the intention of writing this soft, romantic piece but my mind got lost in the gutter and built a home there so here we are. Thanks to @anyamaris for supporting me in my nonsense as she always does.

Even with the air conditioner on, a wave of heat washes over you. Two fingers---your fingers---press firmly against your clit. You know your body better than anyone in this room. Every flick of your wrist makes your walls clench around the vibrator Hongjoong’s fucking you with. The ultra-soft silicone curves to rest its flat tip directly on your g spot. He keeps it at medium speed, the low hum of the toy a hypnotizing instrumental to the weakened moans leaving your lips. “You’re so beautiful” he whispers, delicately kissing your thigh. And you are.

Lying in the middle of your living room floor on a pile of the fluffiest pillows, you’re the prettiest thing any of them have ever seen. The plan had been to watch a movie. Horror---comedy---who cares? How could they watch anything but you? Legs spread wide. Pussy weeping, begging you to keep going just like that. Your panties, moist beyond measure, are looped around your ankle. The tight plaid mini skirt you wear is pushed up, not denying them a bit of your plush belly. Your nipples are two, tightly beaded indentations in your black crop top. They brush against the cotton each time your chest rises, turning you on even more.

It’s getting harder to play with your clit. Your muscles are tensing like a rubber band stretched near its breaking point. Your wrists are going limp. Your legs are shaking, causing your thighs to jiggle so deliciously that Hongjoong can’t resist nibbling at them. What he loves, what gets him off the most, is simply to watch you make a mess of yourself. “Mmm, Joongie. I’m gonna cum---” you gasp, arching against the pillows. Hongjoong’s laugh is nearly undetectable but you hear it, oozing lust. He’s happy with himself and with you. Pulling the soaked vibrator from your core, he pushes three fingers into you.

“Cum for me, princess. Cum around my fingers.” Hongjoong moves your hand away from your clit, wrapping his lips around it in a small O shape. Your arms fall above your head, your head turning to catch Yunho staring at you from the couch. Yunho looks spaced out. It’s as if his mind is off somewhere far away but that couldn’t be further from the truth. His mind is on you and no one else. It's fixated on the way your eyelids flutter when Hongjoong suckles at your clit. It’s committing to memory that sweet little smile you shoot him right before you lose control of your body. 

Hongjoong’s been edging you for an hour all for this moment when he can finger you hard and fast, tonguing your clit as pleasure rips through your body. You’re grabbing at nothing---at anything---to ground yourself but it’s no use. “Hongjoong. Fuck” you whine, struggling to find your breath, “I can’t. Too much. Too---fuck.” Wooyoung rises from his spot on the recliner to kneel above your head. “Let me help” he coos, kissing you on the forehead. His fragrant sable locks dance around your cheeks like curtains, shutting out the rest of the world.

Smooth hands massage their way up your arms, loosening your muscles as they tighten. Fingers press into your shoulders---tickle your collarbone---traverse the arches of your breasts to circle your nipples. Woo slips your shirt up, laying his hands flat on your breasts. He kneads them, pinching your nipples in his palms. “Woo---” you moan, “Joongie---ah.” You mindlessly writhe beneath them. Hongjoong’s knuckles are grinding against your slit. His fingers---they’re so deep---spreading you open even wider. 

Woo smiles down at you and there’s something so genuine about it because it is. “He’s right---” he says, “You’re so beautiful.” Woo drags his tongue across your lips just as Hongjoong’s tongue swirls between your pussy lips. There’s an audible squelching sound when his fingers pop out of you, the suction of your walls holding onto him for dear life too relentless to let him go quietly. Hongjoong gets up on his knees, sucking at his fingers, and admires the way you’re still clenching for him. He’d edge you more---keep you like this all night---but he knows he has to share.

With one last kiss which he plants on your lower belly, he leaves you in Woo’s capable hands. Woo reaches over you to run a finger across your slit and you giggle at how much it tickles. When he leans forward you get a clear view of how hard he is and catch yourself salivating. You bring a hand up to rub against his bulge. A groan emerges from somewhere deep within him, “Bad girl.” Still a tad loopy from your orgasm, you fumble your way up onto your knees. “But you love it, don’t you?” you tease, your hand reaching down to rub against him again.

Woo nibbles at his bottom lip, pulling you closer to him. You run your fingers through his hair, tucking a rogue strand behind his ear, “Up.” One word spoken in the singsong voice of an angel such as yourself has him up on his feet without question. Just as you reach for Woo’s zipper, strong arms grab you from behind, locking you in their embrace. “Choi San!” you gasp, admiring that dimpled grin of his, “I’m kinda trying to focus here---” San kisses down your neck, dipping one hand between your thighs.

His other hand cradles your chin, fingers pinching into your cheeks, and turns your head back towards Woo where a throbbing cock, arousal moistening the tip, waits for you. “Then focus---” San says, lightly squeezing your cheeks. You let your tongue fall free, resting it on the underside of Woo’s cock. Rolling it around his sensitive tip, you collect the warm salty liquid on your tongue. San lets go of your cheeks, giving you the room to bring your hand up and grip Woo’s base. You glance up at him and he’s already fixed on you. They stay that way as your fingertips trace the veins traveling up his shaft, stroking back to his base and starting all over again.

San raises your ass enough to slip his cock between your thighs. Somehow he’s even harder than Woo and you haven’t even touched him yet. “You wanna fuck me, Sannie?” “Hmm, is that how we ask?” he growls into your neck, grinding against you. Poking your ass out, you lay your head back onto his shoulder, “I want you to fuck my tight little cunt, Sannie. Please.” San grips you by the hips, sinking into you with zero patience. A vibrator has nothing on San’s cock. Woo tangles his fingers in your hair, sliding his thickness between your lips.

Bobbing your head back and forth, you suck your cheeks in---fan them out---mimicking the exact thing your pussy’s doing to San’s cock. It’s a flawlessly choreographed dance between the three of you. San bucking his hips, feeding you every inch. You rolling back against him, taking him like a--- “Pretty little slut---” San’s panting, the slobber dripping down your chin from sucking Woo off making you look like exactly that. Woo holding your head steady while you pump his glistening length, your hand and mouth working together to put his stomach in knots.

With Woo stuffing your cheeks, your screams are muffled when San picks up his pace. “Is this what you wanted, baby?” he says, slapping you on the ass. “Mmpphh” is all you can manage, Woo’s cock hitting the back of your throat. Woo and San bounce you back and forth, whispering praises that have you back on the edge in no time. Your hips stutter, cluing San in that you’re close, and his pace becomes unforgiving. Woo scoops up one of your breasts, pinching your nipples, feeling their weight in his hand. “Don’t stop---shit---y/n. So good. Don’t---” Woo twitches between your lips, pumping his seed directly down your throat.

Never one to be wasteful you drink him down, massaging his balls with your free hand. “Fuck---pussy’s so good y/n---gonna cum” San hisses and you’re cumming again. He cums with you, ropes of white painting your insides from the other end. Woo leans forward, kissing your puffy lips, “I’ll get you some water.” “And a popsicle please.” Woo and San look at each other---back at you---at each other---back at you. San straightens out your skirt, “What for?” Your gaze dances over to Seonghwa and the two of you immediately begin to blush. “We---uh---” Seonghwa stutters, “Don’t worry about it.”

Yeosang politely moves Woo and San away from you. “Excuse me. Sorry” he apologizes, moving between them to sweep you up into his arms, “We’ll get the water.” It’s not that you don’t know Yeosang can pick you up but every time he does you melt. Yeosang carries you toward the kitchen and Seonghwa’s right behind him. “And the uh---yeah.” Jongho hops up to follow them, pushing through San and Woo with zero of the politeness Yeosang offered. “Thanks though” he grins, patting Woo on the shoulder, “But not really.” 

“Oh my---that’s---that” you gasp, pleasantly surprised at how much you enjoy the sensation. Seonghwa bending you over your dresser and swirling a popsicle in your asshole wasn’t on your 2023 bingo board but he has you wondering why it never was. The chill of the popsicle is calming in a way. You were overheating for a bit there but now? You feel tingly all over. With the popsicle melted and your thighs coated in drips of sticky, strawberry syrup, Seonghwa goes to work licking it off of you. His long tongue trails up your left thigh---down your right thigh. It comes back up to your ass, nibbling at the plush cheeks and making you squeal. He stays there for a second kissing them, massaging them, tickling them with the tip of his tongue.

“Hwa---mmph” you moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he tongues your candy-coated asshole. Imagine having an itch. Not just any itch. One of those itches that makes it difficult to focus on anything else. One of those itches that refuse to be ignored. But you can’t reach it. No matter how hard you try, your arms just aren’t reaching until---oh god---you finally do. You scratch it and it’s so good that your legs could give out. Nothing, not a single thing, compares to how uniquely amazing that feels. That’s what it feels like to have Seonghwa making figure eights in your ass like his tongue's a professional figure skater.

While you’re bent over seeing stars, he maintains a shaky hold on his cock. Each stroke is slow and deliberate, in sync with yours. “Fuck, you taste so good” he mumbles, fully prepared to smother himself if it means tasting as much of you as possible. You hear a moan you’ve heard a dozen times before. Seonghwa tries to suppress them when he cums even though you wish he wouldn’t. Usually, he hates being messy but his cum has already glazed over his hand and the afterglow is heaven. “Fuck it,” he says to himself, falling across the bed. Spinning around you come face to face with Jongho. “Hey ya cutie” you beam, poking his cheeks.

Sometimes people say that he’s scary, mean even, but when you look at him all you see is your cuddly bear. You drape your arms over his shoulders for support, “Your turn?” Jongho effortlessly lifts you onto the dresser, kissing you like he’s been waiting forever to do it. And he has. “My turn.” He presses the head of his cock against your clit and there they are again. The hot flashes. That thin layer of perspiration on your skin. Jongho grabs your arms, pinning them behind you, and drives into you. “You’re still so wet.” “Not still” you whisper, “This is just for you.” Jongho thrusts into you and you’re full again, his cock much thicker than you remember.

Your exhausted muscles can hardly hold up to being fucked this hard but you don’t have to worry about that. In his arms, you don’t have to worry about anything besides feeling good. He could keep you steady all night if Yeosang weren’t snatching you away, tossing you on the bed. “Yeosang!” you shout, sliding back on the bed, “You can’t just throw people around like that!” Yeosang climbs on top of you, pushing your shirt up, “I can’t?” He brushes a thumb across one of your nipples, lapping at the other as his fingers massage your breast. “You can---shit---do it again” you surrender between shallow breaths.

Yeosang slips into you, his cock pulsing in time with each rise of his hips. His defined arms slip beneath your body, hands locking just behind your back. When he flips you over on top of him, it’s like your whole world’s been turned on its side. He bounces you up and down in his lap, the tremors traveling far behind your core. Just as he picks up a rhythm Jongho tears you away from him, propping you up against the wall. You’d make some smartass comment about Jongho not being good at sharing. If only there were time enough for that.

His arms are already tucked behind your knees, supporting your weight as he fucks you against the wall. “You’re such an addictive little slut, you know that?” he says, and your heart flutters. You just love when he sweet-talks you. The angle he has you at is perfect for stimulating your g spot. He’s bumping right up against it and you’re clamped down around him, as addicted to him as he is to you. “Can I borrow this?” Yeosang asks, peeling you away from Jongho and tossing you back onto the bed. 

This time you’re on your knees. All fours is simply out of the question with how completely destroyed you are. “Are you just gonna toss me around all night?” you whine, burying your face in the blankets. Seonghwa lays his head beside yours, nuzzling up to you. “Of course not” he assures you, his voice warm and comforting, “I won’t throw you around when I have you. A light roll maybe---” 

“Pirates! Cowboys! Biker gangs!” you mumble incoherently, jolting awake. Shaking off those incredibly strange dreams, you realize that you’re still in bed. Judging from how dark it is in your room, it’s well past midnight. You must’ve fallen asleep after what your aching muscles are telling you was a wrestling match with a bear. A barely awake Yunho tightens his arm around you from behind, “Cowboys? I’ll do anything for you but I am not putting on a cowboy costume.” “I will,” Mingi yawns, cuddling up closer to you from the other side, “I get nice boots. Probably a cool jacket. Ooh, some guns---”

“There are no guns!” you interrupt, “When did you two even get in here?” Yunho shrugs, “A few hours ago. You never came downstairs and we missed you.” The “we” he’s referring to is obvious when you notice how hard he is against your back. “You fell asleep on us” Mingi pouts, a hand running up your thigh to squeeze your ass. You drape a leg around his waist, smooching him on the nose, “Don’t do that.” “Don’t do what?” Mingi pouts even more, knowing how soft you go for him when he does this. “That! You guys are both being so---” “So?” Yunho asks, his long fingers reaching between your legs to stroke your pussy. 

You shiver at the contact. Having Yunho behind you, his cock pressing into the small of your back, his fingers teasing you, makes your heart race. Mingi spreads your thighs, giving Yunho more than enough room to curl his fingers into you. “Finish what you were saying.” “I---uh---” “Uh---uh” Mingi mocks, petting your cheek. You move to playfully slap him but he grabs you by the wrist, kissing you before you can even consider trying anything else. Yunho eases a third finger into your core, “You like it when I play with your little cunt, don’t you?” “Mm-hmm” you hum, lidded eyes glossing over.

Yunho stays focused on tapping your sweet spot while Mingi hypnotizes you with his lips. Mingi has you so drugged, so completely entranced, that you don’t even notice when one of Yunho’s fingers is replaced with his. It’s not until there are four of them inside of you, two of Mingi’s and two of Yunho’s that you feel the difference. Feel the intensity of the stretch. “I think she likes it” Mingi grins, rubbing his thumb against your clit. Yunho follows suit, slipping a thumb into your ass. “Fuck---yes---Yunie---Mingi---mmm!” you cry out, so overstimulated that your eyes begin to water. 

They grind into you harder, forcing out screams louder than any you’ve made tonight. “Please---inside of me---wanna feel you. Both of you” you whine, so lost in how badly you want them that you don’t realize what you’re asking. Mingi slides his hand out, smearing your juices between your folds, “Aah, she’s adventurous tonight. You sure you can handle that?” “I-I can. Ah, shit. I need it.” Yunho spreads his fingers in a V, rolling them around inside of you, stretching you from every angle. Mingi brings the head of his cock to splash in the juices leaking from your needy core and Yunho pulls out of you, focusing instead on freeing himself from his pants.

For a fleeting moment, it occurs to you how fucking insane you are. Mingi and Yunho at the same time? It’s not only the thickness, it’s the length. You wonder if you have a death wish. Mingi guides himself into you, only the first inch, sending shockwaves through your system. If this is how you die, you figure, at least you’ll die happy. Yunho spits into his palm, moistening his length before he brings it to meet your already occupied slit. Mingi slides in another inch or two, keeping his cock flush against the roof of your walls. Yunho raises himself into you, taking his time to watch for any signs that you’re uncomfortable, “Let us know if it’s too much, okay?” You make a little squeak to acknowledge how nice it feels to be protected, even when he’s in the process of tearing you in half.

He begins to slide up into you, pausing to let Mingi push in a little more, then taking his turn again. It’s a toe-curling, lip-biting back and forth to get them both inside of you. Once they are, you're falling apart, screaming, digging your nails into Mingi’s arm. Pulling his shirt up over his head, he gathers the material and shoves it in your mouth. “We don’t want them to think we’re killing you.” You’re so full, stretched beyond your limit, that only one of them can fuck into you at once. There’s no room for anything---or anyone---else. You belong to them. “You’re always worth waiting for but shit” Mingi grunts, his length throbbing, as much as it can given the space.

There’s moisture on your cheeks. You’re crying. Not from pain. No. That initial sting gave way to pleasure once they were both finally inside of you. You’re crying, drenched in your own tears, because parts of you are shifting that you didn’t even know could. Every stroke has your ears ringing, your heart in your stomach. You feel heavy and weightless all at once. The darkness of the room swallows you while somehow managing to be blindingly bright. There’s an explosion somewhere inside, releasing the building pressure. You’re at your peak again, legs kicking like you’re dangling high up. It hits you hard. So hard that you’re not breathing. Breathe, girl, breathe!

Just as you catch your breath and think that you’re maybe---maybe---coming down, Yunho's filling you up like a donut. Mingi pulls out, tapping his head against your clit as warm cum sprays against you. Correction: Filling you up like a glazed donut. The three of you collapse, unable to do much else besides make a series of broken noises. “Hmph mmm mm hmph,” you say? Scream? Mumble? Mingi throws his arm across his chest, understanding your incoherent huffs, and takes the shirt out of your mouth. You pat him lovingly on the head, “Thanks.” 

Readjusting yourself on the toilet, you rub the partially melted popsicle between your legs. This is nowhere near sexual in nature. You’re just in desperate need of relief from how sore you are after the day’s events. “Aah, yup, that’s the spot” you sigh, “Seonghwa really was onto something.” “Was I?” Seonghwa asks, rubbing his eyes. You jump a bit, startled by his sudden appearance in the doorway. Seonghwa stretches, dragging his feet into the bathroom.

As adorable as he is in his pajamas, his hair a complete mess, seeing him right now isn’t ideal. He shakes off the sleep, taking his time to process what’s going on. “Is that a---” “Ssh, if you tell anyone---” Seonghwa’s cheeks turn rosy, a smile spreading across his face. He takes you by the hand, bringing you to your feet, “Come on.” “Hwa, hold on, do you think? I wasn’t--no. No!” You reach back to drop the popsicle in the sink but Hwa pulls you along. “Hold onto that.”