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sundrop-writes · 6 months ago

Text

BRAINWASHED

Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader

Everything’s clean - except for my thoughts. (Thinking about me getting you off.)

Can’t stop thinking you got me B R A I N W A S H E D .

Summary:

Stiles likes you. He really, really, really likes you. It's bordering on obsession, but he likes to believe that he has it under control.

So when you accidentally leave a pair of your panties in his presence, ripe for the taking, and they're in his backpack faster than he can blink - he realizes that he might not have it as under control as he would like to think. But he can't find it to be too much of a problem when he has those panties wrapped around his cock.

Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Best Friend!Fem!Reader. Pining!Stiles/One Sided Fantasies. Panty Stealing. Smut/PWP.

Word Count: 8,000

Teen Wolf Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: the reader uses she/her pronouns and is described as having a vagina; Stiles and the reader have been best friends since childhood and they are in high school now (they are both the same age) (for argument's sake, they are both 18, but the horny parts were motivated by the hotness of a 20-something actor so idc what age you interpret the characters as); the reader's looks are mostly undescribed and left neutral in terms of race, hair texture/colour, height, etc. however the reader is implied to be fat/plus sized; mentions of the reader wearing dresses and tights (things that the other characters on the show would typically wear); mentions of the reader having a cat - I did not give the cat a name so you can imagine it's the same as your cat's name/what you would want your cat to be called if you had one; use of Y/N and L/N (as in Last Name); brief mention that the reader would like wearing bikinis; the reader calls Stiles 'good boy' in non-sexual contexts and it turns him on; mentions of Stiles looking up the reader's skirt when she doesn't know it; some slight dubious consent because Stiles steals the reader's underwear without her consent and uses them in a sexual act (his masturbation); masturbation (Stiles touching himself); this is a one-sided/pining fic - all the sexual acts take place inside Stiles's mind as sexual fantasies while he masturbates; the reader character is described in these sexual acts as they play out in his mind, so that's why she is included heavily in the warnings; Stiles is submissive (even in his own fantasies) and he fantasies about the reader being dominant toward him; Stiles becoming aroused by the idea of the reader not shaving her pussy; technically there is edging - because Stiles edges himself to make his fantasies last longer; panty sniffing (though the panties Stiles took are freshly launder and not used ones); scent kink/sweat kink - Stiles likes the way you smell, including your sweat; kinks and sexual acts mentioned only in Stiles's fantasies (taking place only in his mind in this fic): car sex (in the back of the Jeep (typical, I know)), fingering (reader receiving), degradation kink (Stiles receiving - he likes the idea of the reader insulting him and being mean to him); pussy eating (Stiles fantasizes in depth about this); Reader makes a joke about spanking Stiles and Stiles has a small fantasy about being spanked by her; I think that's finally it.

A/N: Title for the fic comes from the song Brainwashed by Waterparks. Warning - Stiles might be a bit OOC in this because I wrote it before I started re-watching Teen Wolf again (and before I started watching Season 1 for the first time, because previously I had only seen 3B and beyond). In this, I have said that he's flunking classes and he's not really great with studying, while in the show, he's really smart and bookish and really well studied - but it could just be chalked up to the fact that he has a huge crush on the Reader that is distracting him from studying. So, interpret it how you want. I hope that you enjoy it, and please read through to my end notes to find out about a potential sequel to the fic!!

...

Stiles was hopeless.

That was the only way to describe his current state of being. Completely, utterly hopeless.

He was a complete and total loser, hopelessly in love with his best friend. And he was getting more stupidly caught up in that crush every single day. And of course, he didn’t even have the courage to admit his feelings for you so that it could be awkwardly out in the open. So that the two of you could get the rejection part over with, at least.

Basically - his feelings for you were slowly ruining his life.

Stiles had been in love with you for as long as he could remember. Well, maybe not that long.

See, you, him, and Scott had all been friends since the beginning of kindergarten, and naturally, Stiles always liked you as a person. He always thought of you as a good friend, even if he gravitated toward Scott more.

But he distinctly remembered the first moment when he had started to develop a crush on you. It was a very special memory to him - the day when you shifted in his eyes from annoying, slightly nagging friend to a beautiful, fierce woman.

It was the day when the three of you were out on Halloween night during the third grade - and that was around the time people started whispering about crushes in school, when people would have playground girlfriends and boyfriends that they broke up with every other week. That night, a group of eighth grade bullies began chasing the three of you, trying to take your candy.

Without hesitation, you picked up the largest rock in sight and threw it at one of them, causing a large cut across his forehead - and you loudly told them to ‘fuck off’ (the first time Stiles had ever heard such a word when it wasn’t coming from his dad). They had run away, somehow terrified of a girl a foot shorter than them.

That night, you had become his hero.

And since then, you had been the only object of his affections.

Of course, over the years, Stiles had plenty of opportunities to tell you about his feelings for you. He just… always felt too cowardly to do so.

In seventh grade, he had come very close to asking you out to the winter dance - only to have Scott beat him to the punch. When he pulled Scott aside to ask him about it, Scott confessed to him that he also had a crush on you. This resulted in their first ever fistfight. The first ever true rift in their otherwise close, brotherly friendship.

The boys didn’t speak to each other for days. Which, naturally, annoyed the hell out of you. Especially because, of course, neither of them told you why they were fighting, not wanting you to know that you were the source of the rift in their friendship. And to you, this only made the fight seem more stupid and immature.

So finally, when you demanded it, they called a truce. They agreed that they didn’t want to lose their friendship or lose you. They didn’t want to make you choose between them when it wouldn’t make any of you happy.

So Stiles proposed that the three of you should go to the dance as friends, which you loved, and they both got you a corsage, one for each wrist - and the three of you still laughed at the pictures of you holding each of their arms.

Eventually, Scott grew out of his crush on you and moved onto other girls, and he loved that he got to keep you as a close best friend, someone he could go to for dating advice if needed. Scott kept trying to convince Stiles to simply ‘man up’ and tell you about his feelings, but Stiles kept that same sentiment they had concluded upon years ago. Telling you about his feelings would only ruin the friendship. Not just between you, but between the entire group - it would fuck up the pack.

Though it felt like the more he tried to ignore his feelings for you, the more they festered like a tumor. While Scott was able to mature past his crush on you, Stiles only grew more intense, and more insane when it came to his ‘crush’ on you.

Over the years, his crush on you had grown from something sweet and childish into something much more. When puberty truly took over and lust was added into the mix, he now had to deal with the fact that you had grown into a gorgeous woman. He could barely control his arousal when looking at you, hearing your voice, smelling you, talking to you, thinking about you - even simply being in your presence made something in his mind melt. And it was growing much worse with each passing day. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t wake up with a raging boner fueled by sexual dreams of you.

And naturally, he would say that not telling you about his feelings for you was ultimately the best thing for him. He would steadfastly refuse to admit that him being distracted by all these fantasies of you was slowly eroding your friendship from the inside out. Slowly, bit by bit, his worst fears were coming true - your friendship was being ruined by his crush anyway.

But he tried to ignore that. Even if you were the most gorgeous, perfect being ever put on the planet, he tried his hardest to simply enjoy the platonic version of you. He tried to act like he wasn’t stupidly, head over heels in love with you.

He tried not to act like it.

But on nights like this, it was just so hard.

Tonight, the two of you were studying for an upcoming English mid-term that would be worth a decent portion of your final grade.

Logically, Stiles knew that he should have locked himself in his room and forced himself to study independently. Or he should have taken up Scott on his offer to study with him and Allison.

But no, he just had to ask you for your ‘help’.

And you pitied him and said yes, because he was doing poorly in the class. The only reason for that being because it was one of the classes that he shared with you, and he spent all of his damn time staring at you across the room during it. He had tried to tell himself that he really would study tonight, that he would really take advantage of your intelligence here and now to get his shit together in order to up his grade.

But no. That was just one of many daily lies that he told himself. Since the moment he had set foot in your bedroom that afternoon (and it was dark out now, well into the evening) - he hadn’t been able to focus on anything but you.

Sure, sometimes that worked to his benefit. Hearing you recite Shakespeare, the words coming off your sweet lips - it did force him to focus on the material at hand for at least a short period of time. But it wasn’t like he was actually retaining any of it. He was just thinking about how gorgeous your voice sounded and how amazing you would be in an adaptation of Romeo and Juliet. One where he played Romeo, of course - and he would get to use someone else’s well-crafted words to romance you, finally getting to kiss you for the first time.

Again - he was hopeless.

Currently, Stiles was laying diagonally on your bed, sitting among a mess of books - the English textbooks, the assigned novels, the published copies of the play, along with binders of your notes and other notebooks, stray papers. He couldn’t pay attention to the notes he was supposed to be writing, not for a moment, not if his life depended on it. Not when you looked this stunningly beautiful while busy writing your own notes.

With the soft lighting from your bedside lamp brushing across your skin, making that skin look even softer, you were a goddess-like vision sitting on the bed across from him. You were wearing the simple dress that you had worn to school earlier that day, your modest tights since shed off in the name of ‘comfort’ (and so that your cat wouldn’t rip holes in them while crawling across your lap, you had remarked to Stiles). When you had stood at your hamper and peeled them off your legs, Stiles had a hard time not letting the drool spill out across his chin.

Your thighs were gorgeous. Thick, wide, spread out like a buffet for his eyes to feast on every single time you sat down. From his angle, laying down the way he was, he was up close and personal with the dimpling cellulite and stretchmarks you had there. The hem of your dress had ridden up when you had adjusted your position to get comfortable, and he felt absolutely spoiled by how much more of your thighs were revealed to him.

A few times throughout the evening, he had to physically clench his fingers, tight, to remind himself not to reach out and touch. To remind himself that he wasn’t allowed to touch. The last thing he wanted to do was to creep you out by randomly reaching out and touching your thigh. But he wanted so badly to touch.

How many times had he imagined what those thighs would look like bouncing and jiggling while you rode his cock? How many times had he imagined those thighs clamped around his head while he licked your pussy? (Far too many times for the good of his own sanity.)

Not to mention the concentration spread across your face - you were so fucking hot when you showed off your intelligence. Hell everything about you was hot - your sweetness, your laughter, your sarcasm, even your bitchy side. But your bookish side had to be one of Stiles’s favorites.

The way you would nibble your own lip when thinking, the way your brows furrowed slightly in thought. Everything about you - from the bra strap sticking out of the neckline of your dress to the chipped edge of your nail polish where you had chewed on it - you were a fucking vision. And Stiles couldn’t take his eyes off you, no matter how hard he tried.

It was a wonder that you didn’t notice Stiles staring at you - not as often as he did it.

Stiles felt strangely caught when you put down your pen and looked up from your notebook, then. He quickly scrambled to grab his own pencil and start writing something, to look busy. But of course, he just looked like more of an idiot when the eraser end began scraping across the page in nonsense patterns.

“Stiles,” You scolded him with a sigh, a way he was used to hearing his name come off your lips. “Have you gotten anything done? I told you to copy down at least half my notes-”

Of course. You pegged his blank page as simple laziness, rather than his brain slowly melting out through his ears due to his inability to think about anything but you (especially when he was in the same room as you). At least he hadn’t been caught staring at you in that creepy way yet.

You snatched up his notebook to check his work, and his heart dropped - if you looked too carefully, then he would be caught. In the back of that notebook, there were about three pages of his name and yours in hearts, and a few times he had practiced writing his signature as ‘Mr Stiles L/N’. (He was a feminist, and he liked the idea of starting a new tradition.) There was even a drawing he had made designing your theoretical wedding cake, including a cake topper where he was Superman and you were riding on his back while he was flying.

“Y/N, uh-”

He quickly snatched the notebook back, causing a glare from you while he sighed in defeat.

“Fine.” He shrugged, knowing that he had to admit to a smaller crime in order to cover up the larger one. It was something that he did with his father all too often. “I didn’t get anything done. I was slacking off. You caught me.”

“Stiles!” You scolded him again, reaching out to gently smack his shoulder. “If you keep this shit up, you’re never gonna graduate!”

Sadly, you were probably right. His crush on you was absolutely going to ruin him.

“Well, you could just let me copy off you,” He replied, giving you a wide grin that let you know he was mostly kidding.

You rolled your eyes in reply, and soon your gaze caught sight of the clock on your nightstand.

“Well, it seems like you have wasted enough of my time for tonight.” You scoffed sarcastically.

Stiles knew that you had intended this to be a joke - but he couldn’t help the twinge of pain the words caused in his gut. The idea that he was truly just a waste of time in your life. He pressed his lips tightly together to suppress a frown and didn’t say anything more, and then you continued.

“It’s almost your curfew anyway.” You pointed out, gesturing toward the clock. You were right. Stiles hadn’t even noticed how late it was getting - too busy enjoying his time with you. “We’ll pack it up for the night - but you should meet me at the library tomorrow morning, early, so we can go over everything again before the exam.”

Of course, you were still invested in the idea of him getting a good grade, even if that seemed unlikely to happen.

“You’re gonna make me get up early?” He whined, hating the idea of missing out on even ten extra minutes of sleep.

“Yes.” You stressed. “I want you there at seven o’clock. Sharp.”

Your ultra serious voice ordering him around was undeniably a turn-on for him. No matter what sexual fantasies Stiles cooked up about you in his mind, he could never picture himself having full control over you. In fact, most of the time, he found himself covered in cum at the idea of you having complete control over him. And it was likely because this was how most of your friendship went - you told him what to do, and he did it. And that was a huge part of why he fell for you in the first place.

When he didn’t verbally confirm the time, too caught up in his infatuation yet again, you let out a gentle growl of frustration.

“Stiles!” You called out his name. “You have to be there at seven. So you can’t get out of bed at seven - you have to set your alarm for like six-thirty, got it? Don’t make me come over there and get your ass out of bed like last time.”

This thought caused Stiles’s stomach to clench.

The last time you had come to his house to wake him up for school (because he had agreed to help you with some bakesale project and you were pissed off that he wasn’t there early to help you set up tables and whatnot) - you had charged into his house in a fury. You had your own key, of course, and his dad wasn’t there to busy you with conversation or pleasantries.

And you charged right up the stairs and nearly caught him with a hand around his cock, jerking off to a picture of you in a bikini from the summer before. And he had rushed to shove the picture in his nightstand and cocoon himself in the comforter to hide his body just as you made it to the top of the stairs, shouting at him for being late. Luckily, he had gotten away with the lie that he had slept in, rather than revealing the truth that he had been distracted because he had woken up with morning wood after having a heated dream about you.

When Stiles didn’t respond yet again, you grabbed a smaller decorative pillow from behind you and lightly hit him with it for emphasis, causing him to burst into laughter.

“Promise me you’ll be on time!” You said, smacking him with the pillow again.

“Yes, yes! I promise!” He finally agreed, his face becoming pink from laughter.

You dropped the pillow then, and leaned down, causing his eyes to inadvertently go straight to your cleavage while you gave him a gentle, friendly kiss on the forehead.

“Good boy.” You responded, praising him for agreeing to your terms. Obviously, it was another joke.

But these praising words combined with your lips even slightly brushing against his skin, along with your tits dangling so close to his face, had his cock swelling to hardness nearly instantly. He grabbed the pillow then, trying to look subtle as he put it over his crotch, desperately trying to hide the very obvious bulge that had popped up at the front of his jeans within seconds.

He was lucky when you shifted your attention away from him, now busy with cleaning off the bed, gathering your textbooks in a pile and moving to put them on your desk in the corner. You being distracted gave him a few moments to try and mentally will his dick down, which worked slightly. Only slightly.

“You could help me, you know.” You mocked him lightly - distracting him from his thoughts of baseball, trying to will the blood out of his cock.

He looked up and saw you standing there with his backpack, putting away his textbooks and notebooks now. He had been so dumbly distracted by his own dick that he hadn’t noticed you taking the kind initiative to clean up his things for him too.

“Right, sorry.” He jumped into action and did so, taking things from your hands and shoving them into his bag with haste.

“You don’t have to rush out, I just need the bed cleared off so I can pick out my clothes for tomorrow.” You told him.

“Wait - you actually pick out your clothes in advance?” He asked, thinking that this was entirely adorable, and explained why you were always so well dressed.

(And it explained why you were always so punctual in the mornings while Stiles was usually a mess - running around his house still half-asleep, shoving his head into a shirt that he had sniffed to see if it was clean, shoving things frantically into his bag in order to get out the door five minutes late.)

“Well you know not all of us are okay with just throwing on last week’s mustard stained tee shirt,” You said, playfully pointing to a mustard stain that he had on his shirt from lunch.

He rolled his eyes in return, trying to ignore the slight twist of embarrassment that wanted to swell up inside of him at the comment.

There had been a point where he used to make a very pointed effort to impress you. Back when his crush on you had first gotten serious - likely around the beginning of high school. He used to get up early every single morning, spending a lot of time being intensely picky about the clothes he wore. He drowned himself in cologne (until you had complained about it), he wore certain colors just because you mentioned liking them. But none of it seemed to garner any more of your attention than usual.

And so, he resigned himself to be the loser best friend who would always just float at the corners of your life, drowning in his secret affection for you until some better, hotter guy came along and swept you off your feet one day.

He was just glad that day hadn’t come yet.

Stiles was hesitant to leave - he wasn’t done being around you for the day yet, too emotionally attached. But he guessed that he would need to get some decent sleep before waking up at the asscrack of dawn in order to see more of you the next morning. (Even if it would include the horrors of studying at the library.)

“So - I’ll see you tomorrow morning?” He posed, ready to take his leave as he swung his backpack over his shoulder.

“Ooh, wait one second.” You said, eagerness twinging through your voice.

His heart pounded hard in his chest for a moment, wondering if this could be the moment he had been waiting so long for - would you stop him there, grab him by the shoulders and kiss him hard, and then tell him that you had been feeling the exact same way as he had for all these years?

“Which one?” You asked, spinning around from your closet to face him, holding up two dresses on hangers.

Oh. You were asking for his opinion about what you should wear to school the next day.

“The blue one.” Stiles said, motioning towards it. “That shade of blue looks beautiful on you - it compliments your skin tone well, and it makes you shine. But ya know, you look gorgeous in everything. You could wear a paper bag to school and everyone would still be jealous of how amazing you look.”

He rambled on for a moment too long, and realized that his genuine fondness for you - something straying too far into romantic territory - was slipping out.

“But - uh, yeah. I’ll see you later.” He quickly added on, now eager to leave before you could make any further comments.

Then he dashed out of your room and down the stairs, getting out the front door so fast that he practically left a poof of cartoon dust behind him.

He got into the Jeep and tossed his bag into the passenger’s seat - which, he hadn’t realized was not even zipped up. (A habit you often scolded him for - going around with his bag unzipped.) Papers and books spilled across the seat and underneath it, and he let out a loud growl of frustration.

“Idiot!” He screamed, scolding himself as he leaned down, trying to clean everything up. “Idiot, idiot, idiot!”

Partially, he was feeling so idiotic because he had just been so vulnerable with you and you probably thought he was weird for it. Actually, that was mostly why.

As he was picking up his things, he realized that - yup, he was missing his English textbook. He had forgotten it in your room. He heaved out a sigh and collapsed back against his seat. He could leave without it - but then he would get an earful from you in the morning about how he was ‘forgetful’ and ‘irresponsible’. Ugh.

He got out of the Jeep again and shuffled his way back into your house - your mom was working late, so there was nobody there to question him running out of the house at top speed and then appearing back so soon. All he got was a curious chirp and a head tilt from your cat, who was sitting on the top of the stairs.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Stiles remarked to the animal, stopping for a moment to pet him. “I’m pathetic. But you can’t rat me out, okay? I know she thinks highly of your opinion and I need you to put in a good word for me. Got it?”

The cat purred and pushed his face into Stiles’s hand, so he assumed that was a positive affirmation that he would root for Stiles - or at the very least, keep his secret.

Stiles linger for a moment to scratch the cat’s furry cheek, and then he stepped over the cat and made his way back toward your room. He passed the closed bathroom door and heard the shower running, and he almost cheered. If you were in the shower, then you wouldn’t notice him slipping back in to grab his book, so you couldn’t scold him for being a forgetful idiot.

He went into your room, and the second he made it through the mouth of your open bedroom, his eyes locked onto your bed like a hot target. Your clothes for the following day were spread out so neatly, and right there, on top of the blue dress he had suggested - there was a pair of lacy purple panties that were something right out of one of his fantasies.

Stiles had thought about your underwear before - many times. Too many times to count.

He had even caught small, passing glimpses of your underwear before - when you had worn dresses without tights and bent over in front of him. But he had only seen enough of it to determine the color, not to know if it was lacy or silk or cotton. And even that was enough to send him into a tailspin that had him rushing to the bathroom to relieve his aching cock.

In the back of his mind - or truly, the forefront of his mind whenever he jerked off to thoughts of you - he always wondered what kind of underwear you wore. What kind of decorative wrapping your pretty pussy would come in if he ever got the other-worldly privilege of getting his hands up your skirt.

Would they be simple, practical cotton underwear? Would they be cute? Would they be sinfully sexy? Would they be those underwear with the days of the week written across the front?

But seeing this now - seeing the tangible evidence in front of him that you actually planned to wear purple lacy lingerie to school - it was something that had all sense draining from his mind as blood rushed to his cock once again. He barely had time to think about it - and he didn’t think about it. Because then, they were in his hands, in his pocket, and he was back in the Jeep, hiding his stolen goods in his bag and hastily zipping it up so he could slam his foot on the gas and race home.

He didn’t even have a chance to think about the fact that he left without the textbook that he had gone back into your room looking for. He didn’t have the attention span to notice that said textbook was in a stack along with your own - almost as if purposefully kept there like an excuse to lure him back into your room, rather than clumsily forgotten by him.

…

When Stiles got into his room, he slammed his bedroom door shut behind him, now entirely frantic, and thankful that his father was working a late shift again. He sat down on the edge of his bed, his hands shaking with anticipation as he unzipped his bag and pulled out the thing he had so hastily snagged.

His mind was warring with so many sensations. Guilt for taking the panties, paranoia that he would get caught, shame that he even had the urge to take them in the first place - but all of that was easily toppled over and forgotten in the name of lust. Overwhelming lust and arousal that he felt for you. Greed and joy at knowing that he had something so private of yours in his hands now - something so secret that he shouldn’t have. A perfect little piece of you.

His little secret piece of you.

He still couldn’t believe that this was the kind of underwear you wore on a daily basis.

Just imagining that this was what you wore to school - thinking about the fact that this was what you were wearing under your clothes during your everyday interactions with him: it drove him wild.

He easily pictured this pretty lace sticking to your cunt when you were wet, the lavender colored material getting slick and slightly darker, soaked through and visibly sticky when you spread your legs for him to see. He wondered if your pussy would be shaved or not - but you didn’t have a boyfriend, so currently, you didn’t have anybody to shave for.

He remembered a conversation from a few weeks ago where Scott had wondered if he should shave his pubes for Allison and you had remarked that ‘putting a razor near your junk’ was ‘ill-advised and stupid’ - so you probably didn’t even like shaving your pussy on principle.

This immediately put a picture in his mind of your pussy being covered in soft hair that matched the shade on your head - maybe a bit darker. It would clump together with your juices and become soaked when you got wet. The little hairs would probably stick out cutely from the sides of the bikini cut underwear, peeking at him.

Your pussy would be the prettiest thing he had ever seen, he knew that for certain.

Stiles imagined getting you in the backseat of the Jeep one night after a game.

He would still be covered in sweat from his efforts, worn out from trying his best. Sure, he wasn’t the best player, but you wanted to ‘reward’ him for his efforts on the winning side, even if he hadn’t directly contributed to the win.

So as soon as the game was over, before he even had time to change out of his pads or shower, you hauled him to the parking lot and shoved him into the car. His gear was only half-off, ditched hastily by your feet, and you were in his lap - a perfect prize after all the hard work he had done, sitting astride his already sore thigh muscles while you kissed him - hard. Your mouth greedily sucked the oxygen out of his lungs while you shoved your tongue past his lips, painting his tongue with your sweet spit - and fuck, it felt like he was made for this.

He got sucked so deep into the fantasy - it felt so damn real.

He imagined having his hands splayed out against your beautiful, plump ass, gripping you tightly, noting wanting you to separate from him for even a section. While you held on tightly to his face, sealing him into the kiss until his lips were sore. And you would only pull back to look into his eyes with glossy desperation and utter out:

“Please, Stiles. I need you. I need you to touch my pussy.”

And what else could he do but obey?

So he would lift up your skirt - a particularly short skirt that you had worn with nothing else but a pair of knee-high socks. Something that you knew he loved to see you cheer for him on the sidelines while wearing. Even though it was a chilly night, you couldn’t feel too cold when you saw him glancing at you every single chance he got. Of course, those distracted stares had gotten him screamed at by Coach more than once. But he loved the way your skirt would flutter up in the nighttime breeze, teasing him. The way the fucking beautiful thick fat of your thighs would jiggle whenever you would jump around in order to cheer him on.

He was a man of simple, divine tastes.

So - he would lift up that perfect skirt to find those purple lacy panties underneath; to find the perfection of your wet cunt waiting for him, growing slicker by the second, more needy for him. You were humping yourself against his athletic cup, which his hard cock was practically dying inside of, bursting to get out of the hard shell of plastic to touch you. But he ignored his own needs for a few minutes longer in favor of yours. Reaching forward, sliding his fingers along the wet spot at the front of your panties, absolutely indulging in the beautiful gasp you let out when his touch grazed across your swollen clit through the fabric.

“Stiles, please.”

He could almost hear it - it was so fucking clear inside his mind. The way your voice would be so pitched with desperation, so perfectly needy curled around his name. He wanted so badly to hear it in real life.

And he would push those panties to the side, pushing his fingers inside of your hot, wet cunt-

Back in the real world, Stiles’s cock gave a needy pulse, leaking into his boxers.

He heaved out a sigh, his cock practically vibrating with blood. He had driven home the whole time trying to ignore that boner, but he simply couldn’t do that anymore. He just had to give in.

He hesitantly put your panties aside - already feeling a strange sense of attachment to them - and reached to his nightstand, grabbing the bottle of lube that he had in the drawer. Shamefully, it was already half empty, mostly due to the fantasies that he had about you. He undid his pants and had them around his ankles in record time, and whipped off his shirt for good measure, knowing that he was quite a ‘splasher’ and not wanting to get cum on it to pair with that ugly mustard stain.

He lubed up his cock more than a healthy amount, knowing that it would contribute to the fantasy of you being so wet around him. It was a distant fantasy that he would never actually get to achieve, but hell - a man can dream. Then he began to slowly pump his cock in hand, wanting to milk it and truly enjoy it, and he let his mind get back to work.

He thought back to your place. A place he was comfortable, spent a lot of time at hanging out with you.

He imagined that early that night when he had forgotten his book, rather than you being in the shower, he went back to your room and found that you had been getting ready for bed. You were rubbing sweet-smelling lotion on your arms, pulling back the covers, wearing nothing but a pair of cute little socks, a tiny camisole - where he could very visibly see that you weren’t wearing a bra, with the natural teardrop shape of your breasts bared to the eye, your nipples poking through the fabric - and those purple lace panties.

When he would appear in the doorway, you would gawk at him and ask:

“Stiles? What are you doing? Did you… forget something?”

But you would be positioned half leaning over the bed, taking back the covers so it would be comfortable for you to sleep - and your ass would be unintentionally on full display. Your sweet pussy lips peeking at him from behind, the roundness of your ass so fucking inviting, daring him to leave bite marks across the beautifully fat flesh.

And after a few moments of him staring so brazenly, saying nothing, simply drinking in the gorgeous sight of your body bent over, wearing so little clothing, wearing those perfect little lace panties-

(Stiles sped up his hand on his cock, the lube sounding downright sloppy in the silence of the room.)

You would stand up to your full height, come to him in the doorway, put your face so close to his and say:

“If you’re gonna spend so much time staring at me like a gaping idiot, then you should do something about it.”

Stiles had to stop the swift movements of his hand and clutch his grip tightly around the base of his cock, making his entire dick throb hard as he edged off his own orgasm.

He still wasn’t sure why the idea of you calling him an ‘idiot’ in such a brazen tone made him want to cum so hard - but he didn’t have time to unpack all that now.

He grabbed up the panties again with his non-lubed hand. Something in the back of his mind thought that it would be a crime for him to get them dirty. Another part argued that he would absolutely love to get them covered in his cum, not clean them, and then return them to you. That it would be fucking thrilling to have you wear them in that dirtied state.

Though he knew that would never fucking happen.

If he returned the panties to you covered in his cum, then you would slap him, call him a pervert, and likely have Scott beat the shit out of him with his newly harnessed werewolf strength. Stiles pushed this thought to the back of his mind, though.

Out of curiosity, he lifted the fabric to his nose and took a whiff. They smelled like fresh laundry - a nice lemony detergent. Of course they weren’t ones you had previously worn - they were a pair you had been planning on wearing tomorrow.

He distantly wondered if that meant you would not be wearing underwear tomorrow, because he had taken your intended pair. And that could have led his mind down a whole different filthy track, but instead - he began to wonder what a pair of your dirty underwear might smell like.

You should take a pair of used ones. A voice in his mind told him. Snatch them right out of the hamper. Come on, you’re over at her place all the time. She won’t even notice them gone.

Terrible idea. Terrible rabbit hole.

But what would they smell like?

He wasn’t deluded enough to think that pussy smelled like roses. He had never been close enough to one - a real pussy - before to actually know. Yes, he was a virgin. He could have said that he was waiting, ‘saving it’ for you - but every other girl, including you, was smart enough to look past him. There were plenty of other guys who were better looking and more charming than him, and probably better in bed than him, that girls had chosen instead of him.

He wondered if your pussy smelled like that perfect bit of sweat that you gathered at the end of a long day. Sometimes when he went to hug you before the two of you parted ways, he would catch a whiff of the tiniest undertone of musk, a good amount of sweat paired with the berry scented body spray you had put on that morning, and orange tic-tacs you had popped after lunch. It was a delectable combination.

He imagined that your cunt would smell like that bit of sweat, combined with the blueberry body wash you used - the one he knew about and loved because of the time you had insisted he use your shower while stinking up a study session because he had skipped the showers after lacrosse practice when he was late to be with you.

He imagined getting hints of that blueberry body wash smell coming off your thighs when his head was buried between them. What would your cunt taste like? That was a mystery he wanted to solve live.

He could always imagine the other aspects so well.

He could imagine the feeling of the heat under his tongue, the perfect feeling of your wetness mixing with his spit. He imagined getting to bounce your swollen clit against his tongue and while feeling your moans and cries of his name vibrate through your body as he pleasured you so well - the feeling of your pubes brushing against his cheeks as his entire face became soaked with your wetness.

But the taste - that was something he could never conjure up in his mind, no matter how hard he tried.

He knew that eating your pussy would be perfect. Not just because he would be giving you pleasure, serving you. But he so often dreamed of having his head smothered by your thighs, having you grab his head and shove him tighter into your cunt, you purposeful and demanding. You having that beautiful control over him while he drowned in your wetness.

He knew that he would likely cum in his pants from eating you out if he ever got the privilege of doing so, and even if you laughed at him - stupidly, he would find that hot too.

Stiles picked up the pace again, pumping his cock in hand evenly and firmly - even reaching down with the other hand to cradle his balls, gently rolling the flesh in his hand as he got lost in another fantasy of you.

He imagined the two of you in his bed - textbooks forgotten and pushed off onto the floor, your dress hiked up around your hips, and again, those fucking purple lace panties. He was on top of you, hovering on his knees so that his hard cock wouldn’t brush against you (even through his jeans) while the two of you sloppily made-out.

It wasn’t long before you pulled away from his kiss-swollen lips.

“Stiles,” You purred into his ear, kissing along his neck. “You know, you’re so pathetic.”

These words had his cock jumping, spurting out precum - in his fantasy, it made his underwear messy as you undid his fly.

In the real world, it made his hand messy as he continued to rhythmically jerk his cock.

“I’m not gonna let you fuck me.” You told him, contrasting these words with your intentions as you put your hands inside his waistband and shoved his pants and underwear down over his hips - down to his knees until his hard, throbbing cock was exposed. “Not until you prove yourself.”

Before Stiles could ask the question, the beautiful, fantastic you that he had made up inside his mind gave him the perfect answer.

“Get yourself off by rubbing your pathetic dick against my panties. And then - I might let you fuck me.”

In the real world, Stiles let out a throttled moan - a choked sound that surely would have had his father knocking on the door to ask if he was okay if he was at home. And then he rushed to grab the panties again, and without even thinking, he used his sticky lubed up hand to position the fabric around his dick. It was a coarse roughness compared to the slick smoothness he had previously been feeling, but it did wonders to complete his fantasy as he delved back to the you inside of his mind.

He started rubbing the slightly lube-sticky rough fabric up and down his dick at a very slow pace as he imagined it:

Being perched between your thighs, with the fabric of the panties stuck to your wet cunt, his cock hard and leaking as he tucked himself right up against you and began to rub his dick against you in order to get off. Just like you wanted, just like you had ordered him to do.

“Please.” Stiles chanted, the words leaking out of his lips, chanted into his empty bedroom as he pleaded to the imaginary you that would always have a hold over him - just as tight of a hold as the real you had. “Please, please - oh fuck.”

He moved the fabric over his cock faster as he moved his hips faster in the fantasy, imagining how hot your pussy would feel against him, imagining your nails digging into his hips as you looked up at him with mocking and adoration in your eyes. He imagined you forcing his hips faster, trapping him in place with your knees bracketed around his thighs, showing him absolutely no mercy.

“Please, please, please.” He chanted, knowing with a distant part of his mind that he must have sounded utterly delirious. “Please, Y/N, lemme cum-”

“Cum for me, Stiles.”

Confirmed by that fantasy version of you and truly unable to hold it any longer, Stiles arched up off the bed, cumming all over his own fist. Just as he had predicted, it was an utter, uncontrollable mess. He shot cum all over his stomach, and absolutely soaked the fabric of the panties - making a horrible mess of them. Which, the lube had definitely already done. He laid there for a single moment catching his breath before it truly hit him.

Fuck. He had fucked up.

You would definitely notice the underwear missing after a while and he certainly couldn’t return them to you in this condition.

…

Stiles spent the next hour in the bathroom, absolutely panicking over how to get them clean. Luckily, he wasn’t a total idiot and he looked up the washing instructions online - and after hand-washing them in warm water with a ‘gentle’ detergent (handsoap was the best that he could do), they came out perfectly clean.

The only problem?

Hang to dry.

He set his alarm for early, earlier than you suggested, and prayed that he wouldn’t sleep through it. In fact, he set three more alarms just to make sure. He couldn’t have you or his father barging into his room to wake him up when he had a pair of your stolen panties pinned to his corkboard in order to properly dry them so that he could sneak them back to you in good condition.

…

The next day, he departed for school by 6:45 with the stolen goods hidden away in his bag, ready to sneak them back into your room later that afternoon. He made it to the library ten whole minutes before seven, and you seemed shocked that he was not only on time - but early.

“Wow.” You said, having just gotten there yourself, spreading out your items at a table - including a tray with some coffees. “You know, Stiles, I am impressed.”

“You don’t have to act so - so shocked.” He replied, partially interrupted by a yawn.

You leaned over to get a pen from your bag, and Stiles’s eyes immediately went to your ass, unconsciously trying to spot panty lines through your dress and tights - wondering if you were even wearing underwear because he had stolen the ones you had intended for today.

Focus, Stiles. Focus.

“Well, if you weren’t here by seven sharp like I told you, I was gonna pour this in the garbage.” You told him, taking his coffee out of the paper tray and sliding it toward him.

“You don’t have to be so mean.” He chuckled, airy and light - very secretly annoyed with the way your ‘mean’ streak affected him sometimes. Why did he have to be turned on by you scolding him and punishing him? Why?

“Hey, if I’m not mean then you never get anything done.” You told him truthfully. “And you know how it works by now. Good boys get rewards and bad boys get spanked.” You told him, letting out a bright laugh - indicating that it was clearly meant to be a joke.

But instantly, it shook his mind with imagery of you bending him over the table, ripping his pants down and spanking him until he came untouched and cried for mercy, forcing him to agree that he would behave and listen to you. He became downright dizzy at the thought.

You meant it as a joke - he had to sharply remind himself. But the way you so casually called him a ‘good boy’, said that he was deserving of a ‘reward’ - it sent chills down his spine and already had his cock waking up. Too early. Bad rabbit hole.

If he was any sort of brave, he would have pushed it more and asked you what kind of ‘reward’ you had in mind. But he wasn’t, and he was too tired to analyze the potential consequences.

“Oh!” You said, as though suddenly remembering something. You moved to grab your bag again and Stiles closed his eyes to forcefully keep himself from staring at your ass. “You left this at my place last night.” You told him, sliding his English textbook across the table toward him.

He was too busy trying to calm his own lust that he missed the smirk on your face - the mischief lingering in your eyes, the intention in your tone. He was too caught up, drowning in his own affections for you that he never would have pieced together that you had taken in and hidden it on purpose as a ploy to get him to come back. That you had put out some other bait for him to find.

“Thanks.” He said quietly. “So - what do we need to go over before the test?”

“Everything.”

Stiles groaned.

...

Due to much pressure, not the sequel has been posted. I am fully of the belief that this fic is complete and perfect on its own, but if you would like to keep reading, click on the link below. I highly encourage you to leave a comment before you press on, though, and tell me what you enjoyed about this fic since you have gotten this far.

Happy reading!

Keeping Reading Here: Stupid For You - Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader

#sundrop writes #stiles stilinski x reader #dylan o'brian x reader #dylan o'brien smut #stiles stilinksi smut #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles stilinski #stiles x reader #teen wolf #teen wolf x y/n #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf smut

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takes1 · 1 month ago

Note

your needy Kenma smut was SOOO good omfg I was biting my fist reading it!! can i request a needy suna smut?

needy!suna rintarou x reader

hi!! so glad you liked it!! wow this took me so long i'm so sorry! i just could not find a way to write it without it being exactly the same as kenma's!

warnings. heavy nsfw, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / forbidden, established relationship / manager!reader / vocal!suna / whiny!suna / needy!suna / bratty!suna / liiiight mommy kink nobody freak tf out!! / suna has a cute laugh / creampie / raw cuddly sex / 1.9k words

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3. my imagines. my request box

"Don't look at me like that, Rin'."

Your fingers were smushing the lower half of his face, angling his head away from you. His head stayed obediently forward at the center court, but those eyes were still piercing through you.

Through his fishy-lips, his words became jumbled together, "'can' helb i'--,"

It wasn't his fault he looked so mean, so critical when he focused in on something.

"I can't help it," He spat, rubbing his jaw.

Suna wasn't careful about his hand placement. The members of Inarizaki knew you had been dating for a time, but Coach Kurosu did not need a reason to question your managerial position.

When you pushed his hand away from your waist, his face scrunched; that mean and bitter look returned, tenfold.

A frustrated, hushed, but not quiet, "I want you."

Though it wasn't an appropriate time, place, or circumstance, it would be lie to say that it wasn't hot. The unique mixture of his assertive, court-like focus and lesser-known bedroom-only begging forced you to cross your arms.

"You-," You glanced around, thankful nobody heard that, "Have a game to focus on."

The attitude he gave was not only unwarranted, but it succeeded in making you less receptive. To you, it was obvious that he was only looking for an out. He was tired and halfway through a challenging match. You couldn't spare to be his partner right now, and he did not like that.

He sucked his teeth, tapped his foot, crossed his arms, worked his jaw, and gave you a sharp sigh, all within five minutes of angry silence.

What a whiny bastard.

You found his struggle almost amusing. At the moment, it was more important to maintain your focus, for the both of you.

Still, it kept you wondering throughout the remainder of the match: What had you possibly done to warrant such a strong response?

Every instance that he had to be around the bench, drinking water, a temporary switch-out, he would send you a deeply dissatisfied glance. You didn't justify it with a reaction. He was being bratty.

Though you were a prude, anti-PDA personality in public, especially around the team-- you were the one to push him back onto the mattress and throw his shirt across the room, once you were back at his place.

"Fuck--mnh!"

That pretty sigh was all he could get out before you were on top of him.

"Start talking," You muttered. Your shirt was off in seconds.

His breathing grew heavy, eyes black with lust at the sight of your pretty skin, his favorite bra he clocked earlier under your shirt- the whole reason his mind got to spinning.

Suna was kept this irritating, calculating, slithery persona up around his friends, and especially during matches, because he learned that it kept him safe. He didn't always like being so on edge. He wanted to trust somebody enough to tell them everything that passed through his mind, to be skin-to-skin and a little weird, because you were comfortable and safe.

Here, under you, after enough love and time, he knew he didn't need to waste energy on appearances.

"I- ah-h, I just wanted you so bad," Was his honest attempt at an explanation.

He sat up to touch you, kiss you, but you kept him to the sheets with a forearm.

"Are you trying to get me kicked out?"

Suna huffed, eyes bouncing from your face, to your confined tits, then back, "What?""

Your legs slid a bit further apart, weight settling better onto his warm lap, "If Coach finds out we're dating, you know I'm gone."

You snapped, just for emphasis, but he flinched, "Like that. In an instant."

He was painfully hard. You could feel him throbbing, even through his combo of athletic shorts and thick sweatpants. Despite the circumstances, you knew he was keen enough to understand that you were a little pissed off about his lack of restraint.

He was in that spot you liked seeing him work through. Struggling, deciding whether to be nice, or snarky.

"You're smarter than that, baby," Was much kinder of a statement in tone, but it tipped him off to be rude, instead.

Those narrowed eyes dripped down to your chest slow, sweet, like honey.

"Why'd you wear that, then?" He felt you stiffen. He placed a hot palm onto your hip to help his well-intentioned venom settle.

You couldn't believe that was his entire problem, summed up in five words.

"Are you really so dirty-minded that you could tell what bra I was wearing? Under my shirt?"

The call-out was meant to return his energy, but he responded in a more secure way than you.

"When it's you, yeah--," He sat up with ease, against your pushing, just to remind you that he could outclass your force if he wanted to. He caught your small frown and he corrected himself, "Yes, ma'am."

You gave a small hum, a low-lidded stare right back at him. He was so hot when he deferred to you.

It warranted a strong, messy kiss- all charged with hours of denial, suggestive glances, and too many minutes of clothed rubbing.

All your clothes came off in a range of easy to difficult, distracted efforts.

Suna lay under you, all flushed and twitchy with anticipation. Your hands flitted down his sensitive, strong sides, his cock crammed between your legs, getting spoiled and slick. Not inside, not just yet.

You loved tickling him just to hear his laugh.

And he'd tolerate anything with you gliding over his dick, like that. Giving him such a good view.

"Shhh-haha-h-ahh!" He bit his lip to keep from giggling, moaning, too much or too loudly.

That look he gave you was enough. All twisted, pleading, intelligent. Like he knew exactly what he said and how he said it, would get you turned on.

His sound was adorable, rare.

It was unrestrained, and light, cute, enough to understand why he kept it behind his hand around his friends. Sounded exactly like something a bunch of guys might make fun of him for.

"Hmm.. Let's cuddle fuck," You pressed a tingly kiss just under his ear.

You knew he was feeling lazy. Your job today wasn't easy, either. You wanted to feel close at the end of a busy day, more than anything.

Suna was warm, and tired, and tacky to the touch but it all added to how badly you wanted each other. It was a demanding match, and getting all upset with each other made it feel that much longer.

Slick, and hot, and easy was the adjustment to him. Nothing to do with his real size- you were just ready, after having to put up an act, as if you were too above all of it.

The panting you had to listen to on the sidelines, watching him miss his mouth with the squeezy bottle, all the sweat and water dripping onto his jersey, it ate at you, corroded the brick walls you put up. Even his frustrated glare was sexy. He couldn't stop looking at you, even with an important task at hand, or when his teammates needed him to focus.

Now he fucked you like your mean -still, justified- rejection was never a problem, like he was savoring you slowly.

"Yes-yes, yesyes," Suna swallowed up your moans in a greedy kiss.

"Mmh- how's that feel--?" You purred.

"So good," A satisfied groan, "Fuck- Got such a perfect pussy."

His hand kept your thigh up, your knee close to your shoulder. He inspired a gasp at how quickly he bottomed out to your teasing.

He stretched you so good, so easily, and kept your trembling steady in his grasp-- but every sound he made was shaky, barely held together, and never masked.

After three months, Suna decided at some point on his own that he could trust you enough to completely let go in the bedroom. Though he naturally gravitated to a more submissive role, he usually said some downright sleazy, vulgar shit to get his kicks.

"A-ha, h-fuc-k, aughh, you feel so good, you--," His breath clipped into a high, closed-mouth whine as he pulled you harder onto the base of his cock, just flexing hard, as deep as he could get.

Your teeth sunk into his pillowcase, fingers filled with plush.

The knowledge that he loved it, but couldn't ever get as deep as he wanted, had your strength waning. Squeezing, bracing, at all the butterflies tired you out.

Although, if it were a competition, Suna had you beat by a mile. The drooling, whiny mess behind you may have had enough to strength to use his body weight to keep you smushed, but you could tell he was sloppier, clumsier, with exhaustion.

He buried his face in your neck.

"I-I'h- needed you so bad," His moan was so light and breathy- like he was swimming on Cloud 9-, "So-h, so... fucking...bad."

Your uncontrollable squirm to get away from the sensation was met with instant crushing. Even if you wanted your thigh back, it would never happen.

"Mh-h-! Rin-," You tried to speak, but he was hitting all your angles just right, so you stopped.

His words were twisting up that knot in your tummy, the trap of his arms a steady, innocent backdrop to how filthy he decided to fuck you.

Slurred mutters, consisting of mostly nonsense syllables and phrases, sometimes bred real messages like, "So hot," "Mommy," "So much," and, "'Can't take it."

His yapping, you thought, may have been a way of making up for how little he spoke, usually. You were generally much quieter than him here, but outside of the bedroom, the opposite remained true. It was cute.

"M'so- close-mh," His groans were short, choked on pleasure, his squeezing desperate and uneven.

The idea of him finishing close, hugging you, just like this, was too hot to let not happen.

You gathered yourself to tell him, "C-um-- Mh, inside, pretty boy."

"F-uck!" That tone completely tipped him over the edge.

Your grin was to yourself, twitchy and genuine, before the feeling of fullness set in.

He was left to fuck out his load as deep inside of you as he could get, "Fuckfu-ck- Ahh-hh-!"

Your nails dragged across his skin- the white hot, pulsing enough to spur a sudden orgasm. Dark lines remained in their wake as your muffled whines filled his ears.

And Suna was nothing if not dedicated. He fucked you as well as he could through your own, whinier, less violent experience. His breath, laden in the resolution of his own, was hot and tingly across your sensitive ear.

You squeezed his arm to stop and he finally let your leg down.

"Hm...sorry," He mumbled into a peck against your cheek, "You okay?"

Sore, and achy, you shared a giggly kiss. He softened naturally and you readjusted to hold each other, warm and soft, with chemical infatuation.

"Mhmm," You stole a longer, slower kiss.

Those pretty eyes watched you, worshipped you, as you rubbed your hand across his jaw.

"Perfect."

☆VIP☆

@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco

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writerpeach · 6 months ago

Text

Premium Content

Kep1er/Madein Kang Yeseo x m!reader

10k words

Happy Yeseo day!

---

Read on AO3

“Come on, just go say something to her.”

“It’s not that easy, Ting.“

Two drinks in, and this isn’t your finest moment. It’s not like you’re too shy to approach a girl at the bar, or embarrassed, but—

“What’s the worst thing that happens? She tells you to fuck off?"

"Well yeah—exactly that.”

“So what? You get rejected, order another drink, and then you try again. If you don’t, then you have someone hot to take home and put your dick in.” A frustrated sigh later, and then you hear a thud against the bar counter, as your companion slams her drink down. You look over to see Xiaoting call over the bartender with a wave of her hand, as if she’s the one that needs a stiff drink more than you do.

“She's even your type. If you don't go over there and say something to her, then I will," Xiaoting huffs, reaching over to yank the fruity drink out right from between your fingers to steal a sip.

"Please, as if you know who my type is."

"She's a woman, and she’s pretty. That's your type,” she returns, a slight chuckle escaping as she sips on her own drink, eyeing you down with hopes to encourage you to get off your ass.

"I don't even know what to say. Hi, you're cute. Let me buy you a drink? That sounds all so generic, doesn't it?"

"Exactly that," Xiaoting replies. "It's not that difficult.” And with a sudden push, you find yourself stumbling into the open, caught in your own thoughts. This girl—she’s gorgeous. Even from a distance, she stands out in this white little dress that beckons you, makes your heart beat a little faster with how well it hugs her body. A cute face with that figure, it’s a sinful combination.

Well, here goes nothing.

You nearly stumble over your own two feet when you approach cautiously, incredulous to the fact that Xiaoting’s powers of persuasion are responsible for this—but you can't disappoint now. The odds seem to be in your favor: she's alone, nursing a glass of something dark and murky and barely touched, so this seems as good an opening as any.

"H-hi, I—" you stutter out before any full words can escape you, barely managing to utter a single syllable before your confidence breaks. Your words stick in your throat as the girl looks up, away from her phone for a brief glance, eyes curious. And already you feel like an idiot.

"Hi there," she says, wearing this warm smile across her lips, and the fact that she hasn't already told you to fuck off nearly has you in a panic. Yet you have no follow through, with half a mind to turn around and walk right through the exit, but you can’t with how your legs feel glued in place.

"Can I uh…"

In that brief moment, you've completely forgotten how words work. This is all so embarrassing, you don't know why you let Xiaoting convince you in the first place. You could be at home, catching up on favorite shows in your favorite pajamas—yet, you're stuck in this fancy venue, about to make an ass of yourself.

"Buy me a drink?" she finishes for you, taking pity on the fact you can't find your bearings. "Sure. As long as you have one, too.”

That goes way better than expected—you already had one foot in the opposite direction prepared to make a quick getaway. You take a seat beside her with a small victory, a quick glance back at Xiaoting who offers a silent thumbs up in the dim light from a distance, which is enough confidence to fill your entire body and get the ball rolling.

"My name's Yeseo," the girl introduces, taking a slow sip from her glass. "Saw you staring at me from across the bar.. was wondering when you would come over and introduce yourself. “

"Sorry I just—couldn't take my eyes off of you."

You want to vomit.

Of all the things you could have said, that sounds like the worst possible outcome. You curse under your breath, and nearly down your drink in one go, hoping this alcohol makes its way through your system as fast as possible.

"Don't be," Yeseo replies with a smile. "You're cute. Glad your friend convinced you to talk to me."

"Ah, was it that obvious?"

She nods, leaning forward to swirl the remains of her glass, the clink loud enough to distract you. "Noticed you staring from a mile away. Most guys come up to hit on me the moment they see me, with some shitty pickup line and a bad attitude. But not you. You hesitated. Which means you don't do this that often..."

"You got me. I'm terrible at this, in case you didn't notice already."

“Honestly," Yeseo starts. "It's cute. A welcome change from all the creepy guys who think I'll fuck them the second I talk to them."

You stare into your drink for a moment, hoping a bit more courage starts to manifest to drown the nerves. Yeseo, she's beyond pretty, absolutely the prettiest girl in the whole goddamn bar—the least you can do is treat her with respect.

"So," Yeseo says, as the bartender comes to slide you both new drinks. "You've bought me a drink. Now tell me something about yourself. Anything at all."

Her demeanor is confident, composed—while you can barely handle looking directly into those eyes without feeling flustered. Your mind has already become a blur of indecision, so you blurt the first thing to cross your mind.

"Just moved here for work a few months ago. Don't really know too many people. I met Xiaoting at a coffee shop and she showed me around the city, and somehow, she dragged me to come here for a night out."

"XIaoting? Your friend over there?"

You just nod.

"Good for her. Drinking's fun," Yeseo says and takes a long, careful sip of her glass, crossing one bare leg over the other, as if that was enough to prove her point. "Probably the best thing to do in this city."

"Have you been here a while, then?"

"A year or two," she muses. "Moved out here to do some modeling, but it doesn't exactly pay the bills. Had to resort to doing some side gigs just to cover the rest.”

"Side gigs?" you repeat, raising an eyebrow.

"You know. A little erotic photography.” Yeseo sips at her drink, so nonchalant and casually. “The kind that satisfies people's fantasies for the right price."

Oh.

You freeze mid-sip at the curveball you’ve been thrown, as you attempt not to choke on your own drink, unsure if you heard her correctly.

"Do you wanna see some examples? I can show you." Yeseo pulls her phone out before you can even answer, tapping a few times before sliding the phone over, as if she has no sense of discretion whatsoever to share these with an almost complete stranger.

What you see on that small screen is tamer than expected, but nonetheless—you’re taken aback.

Yeseo's all dolled up, wearing sheer white lingerie, posed suggestively on a black leather couch, legs all spread out for the camera to see—possibly in the exact same heels she has on now. She scrolls through, presenting each picture for you with a simple swipe of her finger. Different outfits, different poses, increasing levels of nudity.

It's not until she gets near the end that the pictures leave little to the imagination, no clothes, only a suggestive stare, and strategic placement of objects blocking what matters most. By the time you return her phone, you’re jolted back to reality, the startling juxtaposition between these images and this cute, bright girl sitting right next to you.

"People pay a lot of money just for me to send those types of pics. Men mostly. Then they'll pay extra just for me to pretend I'm their girlfriend. It's kind of sad actually, but it pays well, and all I have to do is send pictures of my tits and pretend to be interested for a few hours."

"The camera doesn't really do you justice…" you say out of nowhere, and you can feel your face heating up when you finish that sentence, like you've found this modicum of courage.

"Well, thanks. Aren't you the sweetest thing?" There's something to that smile, the way Yeseo glances in your direction, those eyes so alluring, so damn beautiful. She runs her hand slowly through her long, dark hair, brushing it off to one side, before resting on the counter. "I can give you a closer look if you'd like. My apartment's not far."

You almost choke on your drink again.

Yeseo doesn't hesitate, doesn't hold back. The look in her eyes is completely irresistible, her gaze trapping you as she inches closer, making a quick move across the counter, a hand coming to rest on your knee.

She squeezes gently and you swallow nervously at Yeseo's not-so-subtle intentions, your mouth suddenly so dry that you chug the rest of your drink—savoring the way it burns on the way down. There's no hiding the flush across your face, the obvious redness around your cheeks. "Y-yeah, that sounds—"

"You don't sound so sure. Do you need your friend to come speak for you?" she teases, the tone of her voice shifting all cute and bubbly.

Xiaoting—you completely forget all about Xiaoting, turning your head in her direction, and she offers you a slight smile and a subtle, approving nod that keeps you going. "No, not at all. I'm fine."

"Oh? Good then. Do you wanna fuck me?" Yeseo asks blatantly, pushing her drink away and pulling herself just a smidge closer until her face is mere inches from your own.

You're not fine.

You nearly faint at those words, barely able to think clearly in such a short amount of time. But you pull yourself together to answer with conviction, to gather the strength to reply with some shred of dignity. "Of course I do."

Yeseo likes that answer, and the fact that you can look her in the eye this time. "Hmm, thought so. Will your friend be joining us?"

An answer doesn't quite form so fast this time—you shift nervously in your seat at the proposition, not expecting to take things any further.

“I’m kidding. I want you all to myself.”

With your head still spinning, Yeseo takes your hand and guides you out of the bar into the open air. You catch a passing glance of Xiaoting on your way out—wearing an expression full of excitement, like she knew this was all inevitable.

Your phone buzzes once you're in the backseat of the taxi, Yeseo sliding in beside you, a message lighting up the screen. But you can already guess who it’s from before you even look.

Xiaoting (09:06 PM):

knew you had it in you

go get your dick wet, tiger

You send back a few hearts before silencing your phone and shoving it back in your pocket.

“Come here," Yeseo says in your ear, and you listen, leaning over as she kisses you with those irresistible lips, more intoxicating than the liquor running through you. One more kiss leaves you drowning in lust, and god, the way she pulls you in and devours you in an instant—it's an easy prelude to what's coming, leaving you aching for more.

You melt right then, forgetting how to breathe for a split second, when her lips press deeper against yours. By the time you recover, she's halfway into your lap, straddled atop your thighs—a bold move considering you're still very much in the presence of a complete stranger. But that hardly bothers her when she shifts against you, kissing you again, and her hands aren't shy either, exploring wherever they please.

Those lips feel as soft and sweet as they look, and you can still taste the liquor on her breath when she kisses you, all aggressive and eager, each lingering for a bit longer, almost forgetting where the two of you are, until the car halts to a sudden stop.

You reluctantly part your lips from hers, catching your breath again, as she tucks a finger under your chin to direct your gaze back at her. “This is me. Come on.”

The interruption is torturous, and Yeseo lets out this devilish little smirk when she climbs off your lap and crawls out of the cab, her urgency only growing once you get inside the building. Within seconds, you've got her pinned against a wall in the lobby, hands all over the body of this petite girl you just met, and end up missing the elevator after getting lost in these lips.

You catch the next one, and the doors are still sliding shut when you press a feverish kiss to Yeseo's neck, already leaving marks on her flawless skin that are sure to show up within hours. One elevator ride, a long hallway all the way to the back, and not a single barrier can stand in your way when you’re at her front door, pressed against the surface while these desperate kisses get more heated, making out so shamelessly for everyone to see.

"Come in—come in so you can fuck me," Yeseo says all greedily between kisses, and she wrestles getting her key into the lock, something you're both laughing about.

"That’s the plan, isn’t it?” you say, fueled by alcohol and lust, and your words surprise the both of you. Yeseo swings the door wide, tossing her keys on a counter with barely enough time to kick her heels off before she jumps into your arms without any warning.

You carry her further in, the weight of her petite frame less of a burden and more a comfort as you look around at the unfamiliar territory of her apartment—a fairly nice space. The living area isn’t exactly sparse, but doesn't feel massive either. A few paintings hang on the cream-colored walls, fashion magazines littering her small coffee table, while an open laptop sits unattended on a sleek black sofa that looks surprisingly familiar. There’s a sweater resting on an armchair opposite the couch, along with a tall tripod standing beside that seems out of place at first, until you connect the dots.

But as Yeseo looks at you, you find this sudden indomitable spirit, the confidence to do absolutely anything. “Can’t wait to get my tongue in you.” It’s the boldest thing you’ve said so far, but the effect is immediate.

“Fuck, say that again. About time you finally stopped being shy around me."

“Wanna get my tongue all over you—“

Yeseo bites her lip. She directs you to the couch, her lips never straying away for too long when you fall backwards against the cushions. And wasting no time, the laptop gets tossed aside as she plants herself in your lap again, with all the freedom to do so.

"Well, you gotta unwrap me first," Yeseo says, giggling, and takes your hands, letting them run the length of her tight body until you find the zipper at the back of her little dress. One tug is all it takes and that whole outfit is on the floor, in a heap, so easily revealing what's beneath.

In mere seconds, Yeseo sits there in nothing but lace panties, a bra that matches, and a smile—the exact same set of lingerie you saw in her pictures. A model indeed, that puts her photos to shame, this sinful body the perfect mix of feminine yet toned, and those perky breasts are a perfect handful when she unhooks the clasp of her bra with ease, letting it fall right by her forgotten dress.

The rest comes so easily—her panties drop with the same urgency, and you only catch a passing glimpse of her bare body until she falls atop the couch on her back, completely and utterly naked, offering herself to you like an exquisite feast. And so, the hunger kicks in, and this time, you make sure you don't even hesitate to indulge.

Within moments, you’re making up her body with kisses, a slow, long drag of your tongue along her flat stomach, memorizing every curve, every inch of bare skin. You continue upwards, paying ample attention to each breast, first one and then the other—nothing but little nips and teasing pecks until finally taking one hard nipple between your teeth, not afraid of giving just a little bit of pressure, to draw a long exhale from Yeseo.

Her fingers tangle in your hair and urge you even more, but your tongue already is flicking furiously while your other hand rolls her opposite nipple between your fingers, drawing out that little whine into a blissful moan. These cute little gasps, you love them as much as Yeseo loves her body being lavished with attention, the way your lips tease, the way your hands roam and explore, relishing the naked perfection laid out before your eyes.

“God, this feels good—wanna see what else your mouth can do." Yeseo reaches down and begins rubbing her clit in full circles, just in full view of you.

"Patience," you say, as if you have any left in you, but take the hint nonetheless and head south. And then she guides your head down between her legs, spreading them wide, so you can get the best fucking view in the world, no cameras necessary—that pretty pussy, all bare and dripping wet, so ready to be devoured.

When your mouth meets the inside of Yeseo's thighs—those perfect fucking thighs that are destined to be around your head, you take your sweet time exploring the creamy skin. From this position, it's all so visible, how wet she is, how those pink folds glisten, inviting you right in. And with those greedy fingers rubbing between, it's become even more apparent how desperate her body gets in response to your touch.

A few more wet kisses on her full thighs, and your tongue slides between those drenched folds, her arousal immediately flooding your mouth. Yeseo lets out a sharp gasp the second you taste her, with a sudden bite of her lip as she stifles a cry, hips bucking so desperately into your face. "Fuck—"

Yeseo has the sweetest taste that fills your mouth, and you want to drag this moment on forever. Your tongue teases, pushing inside and delving deep, exploring her pussy before you find her sensitive clit. She sounds so needy, that you can’t help but grant what she wants right away, circling around, flicking lazily against the swollen bud until you seal your lips around it, sucking hard.

“Shit, holy shit,” Yeseo cries out, falling apart so beautifully already. She can't stay still, writhing helplessly as the ecstasy slowly builds, the taste of heaven coating your lips. When you push two fingers inside her dripping core, curling and pumping while continuing the assault with your mouth—she just lets go, entirely, with a series of desperate whines, clutching tightly on to the back of your head and grabbing a fistful of your hair. “Fuck, how are you so good at this?”

"Dunno. Maybe because you taste so fucking good," you say, voice all muffled between the heavenly thighs that slowly close around your head, trapping you in their intoxicating softness. You need Yeseo to be absolutely convinced how divine she is when your fingers pull out, cleaning them off before replacing them with your tongue, plunging all the way inside her wetness.

"And to think," Yeseo pants, as she pushes your head deeper into her cunt. "You could barely fucking talk to me. Now look at you, eating my pussy—so fucking well. Not too shy to bury your head between my legs."

That's enough praise for you to make sure you deliver, to keep giving Yeseo what she wants, lapping away at her delicious cunt, eager for every drop. This time, when she clamps her thighs harder around your head, you give all you've got, working her clit frantically, slurping so lewdly to make those moans tumble out.

Her taste is unforgettable, and you can’t help but be ravenous for more, tasting as much of Yeseo as you can get your lips on, a never-ending feast that keeps those deliciously warm thighs squeezing your head. You keep a tight seal around her swollen clit, and a hand flat on her smooth stomach to pin her down—never letting up, witnessing how she crumbles, how she edges closer by the second.

"I'm close, fuck, so close," she says so desperately, eyes squeezed shut, holding your head steady to her core. You give her all these messy licks that leave her gasping, shallow breaths growing more frantic, eyes pleading, and with that one last swirl of your tongue, you take her right over the edge. "Fuck, oh god, shit, shit shit—"

It’s gorgeous, the way she shatters. Her whole body shudders, thighs quivering around your head so violently, so perfectly, as your mouth keeps all the pressure on her clit she needs, until Yeseo cums right on your face.

The pure bliss hits so hard that a surge of her delectable juices pours right into your mouth, a flood of endless sweetness, and it all tastes so fucking incredible. Yeseo keeps you right there between her legs for this burst of pleasure to linger, lips parted, crying out in broken moans, riding it all out with all these messy flicks of your tongue that draw more nectar into your mouth.

Her release is all over your face by the time she's done, and you're licking her through the whole thing. But your hunger isn’t satiated so easily, dragging through her sopping wet folds, sucking frantically on her clit, until Yeseo has to shove your mouth away—unable to take any more.

That intoxicating sweetness clings to your tongue, and you lick your lips to savor every morsel. When you glance up into Yeseo's eyes, she's still shaking, out of breath, chest heaving, blushing hard, trying to come down from the intensity.

"Can't talk to a girl at a bar, but you can make her cum like that?" Yeseo asks between gasps, struggling to recover, still riding the euphoric high after such a satisfying finish. "You are full of surprises."

You don't say much, more interested in kissing the creamy, flushed skin of her thighs, licking up whatever delicious nectar that you can clean up as her breathing starts to get under control. But the longer you lay there, just kissing, softly caressing her naked body, the more that need for your own pleasure starts to rise, reminding you how painful and neglected your erection is—straining against the confines of your pants.

You need to be inside Yeseo.

As you brazenly stare at her legs spread wide, this gorgeous exhibit of her glistening slit dripping with arousal, you tug at the hem of your shirt, pulling it off and tossing it haphazardly on the floor. There's not a drop of discretion when Yeseo's eyes land on your bare chest, watching every movement, not even offering to help, gaze slowly lowering when she catches sight of how tented the fabric of your pants has become.

"Those need to come off, immediately," Yeseo demands, licking her lips.

"Working on it, give me a second—” you say, reaching for the belt around your waist, fiddling with the buckle, trying so desperately not to lose eye contact as Yeseo stares hungrily into your eyes. And the moment your pants and boxers finally come off, freeing your rigid cock—she's practically drooling.

"Oh fuck, that’s gonna feel so good inside me," Yeseo gasps, as her eyes light up, and already she's guiding you to her inviting heat, her small hand making all these little pumps that get you nice and hard. She lets you do the rest—the anticipation agonizing when you grip your cock tightly, pushing against her wet entrance and looking at the approval in her eyes for a fleeting moment.

And then, those silky wet folds part, and you slide right into Yeseo.

All of this was worth the effort, when you hear moans escape from her lips, nothing but bliss written on her innocent little features.

"So damn tight—fuck," you moan, her cunt so goddamn wet and warm as her walls stretch wide around your length, accommodating the first few inches. It's unreal, the sensations you feel around your cock, the wet heat, the sheer tightness—and that's all before you've even started to move.

“Fucking give it to me. Pound me, I know you want to," is all Yeseo says when you take hold of her slender waist, your fingertips pressing firmly into her perfect skin, all eager to pound into her pretty little pussy.

The invitation is too enticing, and you snap your hips, a shallow thrust at first, to get yourself accustomed to this smothering heat as she settles into the stretch. These walls covered in slick, they choke your cock from the first pump, her pussy so hot and deliciously tight around your length that it’s a struggle to not drive everything in all at once.

You want to revel in how good Yeseo feels—how good this tight fucking pussy swallows you up and might never let go. Little by little, your hips gain momentum, until each plunge gets easier and easier, building gradually to a punishing rhythm that drives needy, unstoppable moans past her lips, gasping louder each time you sink deeper.

“So good, feels so fucking good,” she says, every plunge eliciting a flood of juices between her folds that coats every inch of your cock in her delectable wetness.

You fall victim to those eyes when they meet your own, looking back at you, dark and pretty, lips parted. Without pause, Yeseo watches your cock thrust into her, taking in every inch inside her dripping folds, the delicate features you’ve drawn to paint such a sinful picture, eyes widened as she takes each delicious thrust, not able to hide her craving for more.

"Keep doing that—you feel so fucking perfect inside me," Yeseo says, soft pleads in between breaths, biting her bottom lip hard, walls clenching harshly every time her heavenly cunt gets filled by your entire length. "Oh god, give me that fucking cock—"

You're gripping her body so possessively, fingers digging hard into her flesh, pulling her down with each thrust as your cock pounds away into that tight hole. There’s no wasted motion when you meet her demands, and you get so goddamn deep, bottoming out with ease, before pulling your slick cock out enough until only the very tip remains—then you slam back in harder than before without another word.

"H-harder," Yeseo whimpers, begging for all you can give, desperate to keep you buried inside her dripping core. Her eyes nearly roll back at the addicting stretch that draws out all these pitiful noises, your hips working overtime to satisfy her needs.

Those perfect, perky tits bounce in unison with every forceful thrust, each rock of your hips into her slender frame growing more frantic, until you’re pounding mercilessly into that tight cunt. “Shit, this perfect little cunt—it feels so goddamn good, baby." And you can’t help the overwhelming feeling whenever you bottom out in Yeseo, sinking your length balls deep, again and again, that cute face all contorted in bliss when the rhythm picks up, and god, she just feels unbelievable—

"You're so fucking deep inside me," she tells you in this raspy, desperate voice as you get lost in how her tight cunt squeezes your throbbing cock. "Harder, fuck me harder, wanna feel all of you, wanna fucking cream on your big fucking cock. Pound my little pussy like I know you can.”

Your hips can’t help but oblige these depraved words, burying yourself to the hilt whenever you pull out—leaving a wet, messy slap of flesh when you sink back in.

At this point, you're basically fucking her into the couch like you’ve lost all restraint, thrusting into her hot cunt with a relentless, unforgiving pace, and still she asks for more, demands it even. You're addicted to these sensations, the needy cries she spills out when you get in so deep, the warmth of her slick pussy demanding every inch—taking it all without so much as a struggle.

"Fuck, that's perfect—don't stop," she urges, clenching down on you while her wet warm walls quiver, urging you to shove the full length of your hard length deep inside her cunt. Nothing’s going to stop you, not now, not ever, not when your cock is surrounded by all this warmth, these unforgiving clenches to keep your momentum going, pleading for your cock to fill this girl’s perfect pussy like it belongs there.

“Yeseo, fuck—you feel so incredible, love my cock in this pretty little cunt,” you groan, slamming yourself as deeply inside as you can, drawing out all these noises from Yeseo, desperate and greedy—each one driving you madder with need.

"Keep that up, tell me how good it feels to fuck me—tell me.”

You can hardly hear the words through her ragged breaths, her voice coming out so strained the longer you fuck her without respite. And you just can’t look away from how her cute, innocent features have turned into anything but drowning in lust while you thrust into her greedy little pussy with all your might.

"Shit, you feel so fucking good, baby—I love your tight fucking cunt, makes my cock feel so fucking amazing when I’m balls fucking deep inside you.” The words fall out before you can even think, because the thought of being anywhere other than this slippery warmth is out of the question.

The most sinful type of bliss you can indulge in, ramming into Yeseo’s warm little cunt this hard and this deep, watching how her small frame gets rocked, these relentless thrusts that you can’t keep up for long as you look into her pretty eyes, unable to do much but surrender to the pleasure.

“Don't stop, just a little longer—"Yeseo swings her legs around your waist, wrapping tightly around your body as if you'll even think about stopping. The way she's all coiled up gives you no other option than to piston your hips, drilling her deeper into the couch.

And then Yeseo cums all over you, eyes shut, head tilted back as she clenches so tight around your cock you're almost right there with her, struggling to hold yourself back. Because this girl feels impossibly tight when she squeezes your length, spilling all this wetness that threatens to force you out were it not for the way her legs keep you trapped.

"Keep fucking me, keep fucking me until you cum,” Yeseo murmurs, as her body still shakes with every pump of your hips, legs wrapping tighter to demand your cock stay inside.

"W-wait—"

"No, inside," she demands again, locking her arms around your neck, and there's no way out of this when she clings so tightly, no chance for you to do anything but empty inside her greedy little cunt. "Cum inside, please. You've earned it."

Yeseo looks right at you, that lecherous gaze you'll never be able to defy as your hips obey, until her cunt squeezes you just the right way—and then you fucking explode, unloading so deep inside her in heavy bursts. You spill everything, nowhere to empty but right into her tight pussy, a huge, thick load, one shot after another firing out of your cock.

It seems endless, the way you throb inside, flooding her cunt as Yeseo takes every thick spurt, milking you for everything you can give until your balls are completely drained and that hot cum has filled her completely.

"Yeseo, fuck…" you mutter, mind a jumbled mess as you try to remember what to call her, the girl whose name you've known all of an hour or so before you've fucked your load into her. All the tension flees your body at once, but your cock, however, doesn’t escape, because her arms and legs refuse to release.

You stay buried, hard and throbbing, long after your high has run out, until the last drop is claimed. Only then, does Yeseo loosen up her limbs, slowly letting the lock around your waist ease off, and it's over far sooner than you'd like. “Now aren't you glad you bought me that drink?"

All you can manage is this tired laugh and a sigh of relief as you collapse on her naked body, kissing at her sweaty neck with whatever energy is leftover. Yeseo, likewise, shows no signs of urgency, as you rest together to regain some strength. "Hold on…"

There's some rustling when she reaches for her handbag on the floor and grabs something from inside. When you're too weak to stay inside her warmth, eventually you slide out with a groan, leaving a huge sticky white trail pouring from her pussy. Yeseo presents her camera, aiming between her legs and snaps a few pictures to capture how absolutely messy her cunt has become after being filled to the brim. "People will pay a lot for these. You don't mind, do you?"

"Not if you share them with me too," you answer, breathless, barely coherent.

Yeseo grins at you playfully, handing over her phone so you can key in your contact details, a vibration coming through your pants pocket soon after. And then she stands up, unabashedly naked—your cum leaking down her thighs so messily as it glistens under the lights.

"I should probably head home soon. Work in the morning, unfortunately.” Instant regret hits the moment such a poor excuse leaves your lips. Yeseo however, is much more interested in capturing this big mess you’ve left between her legs.

"You're not going to stay the night? It's already pretty late.”

"Don't exactly have anything to wear in the morning. Or even a toothbrush. I wasn't planning on getting so lucky tonight.”

"I have everything you need in the bathroom," she says, determined to keep you right where you are, like she’s planned for every imaginable outcome. "But you wouldn't need extra clothes if you called in sick tomorrow, would you?"

She’s unbelievable. Not that this offer isn’t tempting, because you could pass out right here on her naked body, and waking up next to a model, one that looks like Yeseo? There’s better than winning the lottery.

"It's not easy for me to call off work,” you say, intent on keeping up these lame excuses regardless of what you actually want, which is right underneath you. “We're behind on a project and I've got some important meetings tomorrow morning…"

Yeseo remains unconvinced.

"Maybe a nice, hot shower with me will change your mind? At least clean up a bit before you decide..." she's already reaching for your hand, leading the way to the bathroom—despite the fact that you haven't said anything yet. A dangerous proposition, because you know if you step one foot inside the shower, you won't be walking away from her tonight. But maybe work can wait, and maybe you've worked enough overtime this week, because you suddenly feel a little under the weather.

Now that you’ve seen Yeseo’s naked figure under the hot running water, there’s no going back.

Once you've toweled off and shaken off some of that exhaustion, you're still naked, sitting on Yeseo's bed after a quick tour of her bedroom that doubles as a photo studio.

She makes a compelling argument lazily bobbing her head between your legs—as if you need more convincing with her mouth. And if that wasn’t enough, you've got her phone in your hands to distract you, with full access to a more explicit folder of photos she claims are for your eyes only.

When you scroll through, there's several shots of Yeseo playing with her tits, fingers shoved in her tiny little cunt for the camera, and a few of her riding a huge, fleshy toy on these same sheets, spread out on all fours with a girthy plastic cock shoved right inside her.

"Shit, Yeseo—” It’s a response to both what's on your screen, and also the warm mouth slobbering on your cock as you flip through more of her work. She lets you slip out for a brief moment, and you nearly whine, but it doesn't last long, licking at your shaft, using her hand to pump all that spit into every inch.

"This is what I do when I'm not at modeling gigs. Fuck myself on these toys my clients buy me, or take pictures of my body—you wouldn't believe what people will pay just for feet pics."

"Feet pics?"

"Among other things. But those are pretty popular requests." Yeseo shrugs a bit. She gets back to work on that mouthful of cock, while you continue to scroll through her gallery of depravity, more shots of her tits, more focused shots of her wet, pink pussy, and the aforementioned feet pics, a dozen different colors of nail polish, wrapped up in nylons, stockings, thigh high socks—the options are endless.

"God, your mouth—it's fucking insane," you tell her as your thumb scrolls through the various images on her phone. "So you don't fuck any of the guys? Just talk to them for hours?"

And it's funny how you're holding a conversation through this blowjob that gets progressively messier, with obscene trails of saliva connecting Yeseo's wet, heavenly mouth to your stiff cock.

"I'm a model, not an escort service," Yeseo says, like it should be obvious. "I’ll do whatever they pay me for, within reason. Nothing weird, but that certainly hasn't stopped guys from asking. I usually dress up in costumes, or sexy lingerie and heels, and pose however they tell me to. Most men just want me to visualize their fantasies so they can jerk off to it as many times as they'd like."

"Sounds lucrative."

"It can be, but it's not a career,” Yeseo explains as she holds eye contact when the tip of her tongue presses right below your cockhead, giving the sensitive spot just the right amount of pressure. “Plus, I have to sort through a bunch of creeps with requests that I don't allow, especially when they're not offering to pay much. It can be very demanding, depending on the person."

Through this all, you let out another groan. It takes considerable effort, but you manage to remain in the conversation, glancing down to see her angelic features on your cock. Yeseo bobs her head on and on, so sloppily, messy and deliberate, letting her spit flow all down her chin when you look away to glance back at the screen.

"People have this wild fascination with cute and innocent looking girls. I sell these fantasies, their deepest and most perverse desires fulfilled. I become anything they want. A slutty schoolgirl, a cheating housewife, a co-worker they've wanted to rail for ages. They pay me for my time and my body—I'm just the illusion they've created."

When your cock hits the back of her throat, you tense up, nearly dropping the one thing that's keeping your focus divided. Yeseo gives a slow, easy glide back to the tip before engulfing your entire cock, throat squeezing every inch of your sensitive length as she slurps hard enough to get your full attention.

But that’s when you find something even better than all those pics—it's a video, and it's taken from the shower, a perfect shot of Yeseo taking an oversized toy into her ass, inching further as she moans for the camera, spreading those cheeks for it all to go in. It nearly makes you forget about the wet kisses and tender licks on the delicate underside of your shaft, keeping your eyes to the screen, captivated.

"Ah, you found those, didn't you?" she chuckles, but she doesn't stop sucking at your shaft, dipping her mouth low to bring in your heavy balls that have filled up far too easily into her mouth.

"That ass—you've got a really nice ass, Yeseo," you admit in all honesty, your attention once again torn between the screen and how messy she's getting with her mouth on your swollen balls. Yeseo keeps playing with them, giving a nice squeeze, as she drools so heavily over each one and, this perfect fondle, massaging away while the video keeps playing.

"Yeah?" she asks after slurping hard, releasing your balls with this lewd, messy pop, drenched with a layer of spit as she gives another squeeze for good measure, moving right back to stroking your cock. "Those videos are more popular than almost anything else. My ass is kind of the moneymaker and some guys are more than willing to pay an obscene amount for a toy in my ass."

“Can’t blame them...” You’re throbbing heavily in her grip, not sure if it's the pleasure or that you've moved on to the next video, where Yeseo has the tip of a vibrator teasing her asshole. And then the toy gets pressed inside slowly, stretching her wider while you try to stifle a groan, until there's so much of it disappearing.

"We can try that if you’d like. Do you wanna do that to me?" she asks, and you're so entranced by the screen that you don't even process her words.

"No—ah, what?" you say, mindlessly distracted, setting her phone down on the sheets, bringing your full attention to Yeseo.

"That video. We can recreate it. Not with the toy, but with your cock."

Your face blazes red at that admission—unable to wrap your mind around how she looks all too innocent while proposing the most sinful things.

"I’m asking—if you wanna put your cock up my ass? You said you liked it." Yeseo can see you blush as you try not to meet her eyes, but she won't leave it be, pressing for an answer.

"Do you even have to ask? Of course I do."

"Good, because you can,“ she tells you, getting up off her knees to reach into a drawer by her bed, digging up a half full bottle of lube that she tosses it toward you. “Here. Use this." Yeseo turns right around and eases into your lap, giving you a beautiful view of her perfect, plump ass that she pushes right up against your crotch, your cock nestled perfectly between.

You don't do anything besides stare, unable to get past the way those pale cheeks perfectly press up against the full length of your stiff shaft. Then Yeseo pushes back again, making the offer clearer.

"Come on, open me up," she purrs, grinding those soft, supple cheeks against your cock slowly, a nice not-so-subtle way you get the hint. "Your cock, my ass. That’s where it really belongs. Get right inside my asshole.”

Your hand goes for the bottle of lube that she’s just retrieved from the bedside, but you don't uncap it yet, as you watch Yeseo rub that perfect ass along your erection. "Wait. Got a better idea."

Her head tilts, confused about what could be possibly better than this offer put on the table. But this girl’s body, the body of a literal model, you want to savor it all. With an ass like that, how could you not? You want to get even closer to appreciate it, pulling Yeseo onto the bed, hoping she gets the message. At first, she keeps this questioning look on her face—but when she figures out where you're headed with this, her expression brightens.

She shuffles around to follow where you guide her, getting on all fours while facing the headboard, so that delicious ass raises toward you, those delectable curves all at your disposal.

"Perfect,” you say to yourself, voice trailing off as you grab at her waist and position her just the way you'd like, admiring her full body on display, and fuck, that ass is unreal.

And then you stuff your face right in those cheeks. Yeseo laughs in delight, wiggling around just for your sake, making sure every inch is captured by your attention. You get two large handfuls—spreading her ass wide so you can have an unobstructed view, and that's when you dive right in and dip your tongue inside her puckered hole.

A sound of pure filth comes out of Yeseo right away, all broken and uninhibited. "Oh my god—"

With Yeseo's approval, you keep the tip of your tongue swirling, flicking around, coating her asshole with as much drool as possible as she starts moaning uncontrollably at your immediate assault, trying to adjust to these intense sensations.

"And now you're eating my ass? You really are so full of surprises."

"Do you really expect me not to?" you question back, as your mouth gets entirely preoccupied by lapping at her tight hole, slurping greedily and teasing around. Your licks only get sloppier each time you dip your tongue in deeper, more focused on pleasing her than keeping any kind of composure, eating her ass without restraint.

She grinds up against your face to praise your work, and it's all the encouragement you need, a palm on either side of her ass, spreading her hole wide—your tongue practically fucking her, devouring her tight little asshole so ravenously, slipping further and further inside.

"F-fuck, baby, that tongue feels so good. Is this my reward for getting you to skip work?" Yeseo asks, half groan, half giggle as you work this sensitive area in ways that get the most obscene sounds pouring from her lips. She groans in absolute delight while your saliva flows freely down into her puckered hole, her cheeks surrounding your face, an absolute meal that has her scrambling for the bed sheets.

"I'll quit my job tomorrow if I get to eat this fucking ass every single day," you utter through sloppy licks and frantic slurps, words all muffled, not letting up in the slightest from licking Yeseo open. The whimpers that slip through, and these shallow, shaky breaths, that’s all you care about, when this tight ring of flesh clenches harshly against your probing tongue.

“Just wait till you have this ass milking you dry for everything that dick's got," Yeseo says, a promise with a loud sigh, falling apart under your attentive, merciless mouth as you greedily tonguefuck her asshole, holding her nice and still. You could just about take her up on that, but you haven’t quite had your fill—not yet.

So you keep those whimpers going, holding Yeseo in place as you continue to flick your tongue out in quick little strokes, licking her right where she's most sensitive. It's fucking perfect, how she helps spreads those asscheeks wide for you—like she can't get enough either, that twitching hole tightening each time it meets your tongue, tensing under your mouth, begging to stay filled.

"God, y-you're so good at that," she gasps, arching that cute ass up higher, holding herself open even further when it's clear there's more pleasure than she can keep up with. There's this urgency in her voice, so impatient and eager—it drives you absolutely wild.

But despite your selfish intentions to bury your tongue in Yeseo’s perfect ass forever, you can't ignore the persistent throbs your cock makes against the mattress—aching for relief, and you've got the perfect place for it to go.

When you pull back for air, you want nothing more than to shove your face back into those squishy cheeks—but the aching between your legs has other plans. You sit up on your knees, and admire all of Yeseo bent forward, presented like a meal, no question to where you're putting your stiff cock when you pop open that clear bottle.

Now you’re in for the main event, but you can't help but give her delectable ass a smack, both hands grabbing those thick asscheeks. You take your time to spread the slick liquid around her rear entrance, and it makes all the anticipation almost unbearable as you work a finger inside that tight ring of muscle. She eases up to swallow you in, letting you test the warm, snug tightness bound to accommodate your cock that’s going to feel like heaven.

"Fuck, your cock is going to stretch out my ass so much… so much better than that toy you saw me fucking." While you continue to prep her, Yeseo lets out the sweetest little sounds, relaxing almost instantly at your slick finger working its way inside, like she's done this more times than she can count.

"Yeah? Want me to ruin your pretty little asshole with this fucking cock?" And it's like her muscles know exactly what to do to hold you right in, hugging your digit, so you can barely contain yourself through this tight preview, thinking of how it'll feel clenching around your length.

“Do you even have to ask?”

Yeseo’s cute little smile when she looks back gets all the blood pumping toward your throbbing hardness as you stroke the lube into your shaft, getting yourself nice and slick before aiming yourself right between her asscheeks. "Don't you worry, I'm fucking you until you can't walk straight."

Then, there's nothing else to do but slide your cock into her slicked up, eager hole. Slowly at first, as Yeseo braces for it—her eyes demanding every inch when you ease into the delicious, tight heat of her ass.

“My fucking god, baby—this ass is so much tighter than I ever imagined," you groan with a sharp breath, clutching her shapely hips while you rest your cock fully sheathed inside, not daring to move. You're not even sure if you can pull back out, completely overwhelmed at just how intense this grip is, and when you look down to see it all disappear—god, it's maddening.

Nearly doubling over from pleasure, all rational thought gets driven out with that tight warmth gripping your cock so hard it steals your breath away.

"Are you going to fuck my ass or just stare at it?" Yeseo asks, and you're tempted to do the latter, but she jerks her body backward to jumpstart the whole thing. When you pull out in one fluid motion, you have to stop for a second to admire her slick little hole stretching around the thickness of your shaft, before you slam back into the hilt.

It takes little time for your cock to stretch that greedy asshole out as Yeseo welcomes in each thrust working her open, your hips making her cheeks jiggle when they meet. Looking back, she grins with bliss, a groan accompanying every pump as she adjusts to your size, inviting your cock into her ass with a perfect arch of her back. "Come on—show me how much you really love this ass, give me everything you’ve got.”

Just like that, your hips get rougher. Yeseo welcomes this stretch that stuffs her so full, deeper each time your shaft pounds into her tightest opening, lost in lust while she clutches at the sheets, nails digging in for dear life.

"There you go, baby, give me that fucking cock,“ she pleads with each snap of your hips, her ass crashing against you. So the rougher you get, the more she whines out for more—this sweet little innocent thing reduced to absolute sin, nothing but curses and groans leaving her parted lips.

And while you watch her delicious ass swallow up all that hard cock, you can't help but smack it, greedily grabbing a handful of flesh before letting your palm fly again, marking up both pale cheeks with these beautiful red handprints. Hard, repeatedly, every harsh impact jostles those reddened cheeks as she takes your rapid thrusts into that impossibly tight asshole, clenching around after each smack to the sore flesh.

"Make it hurt, make my ass fucking sting, please," she demands so desperately, and it only takes a few more harsh slaps to leave her completely incoherent.

You pound into Yeseo with such reckless abandon until your carnal desires take over. Those tender cheeks bounce hypnotically, the rhythm of your hips in sync with every single slap across the delicate flesh. “Baby—fuck, this ass feels incredible. Makes my cock feel so goddamn good.” You're relentless—not just because you can’t help yourself, but because she can’t stop letting out the most pathetic little whimpers that cry for more.

Your pace picks right up, so frantic, each slam deep enough to send those soft cheeks rippling, every last thrust filling her up so nicely. What’s even better is the beautiful red tint spreading across that backside, and the delicious sound of your palm hitting flesh—again, and again, and again.

"Ah—fuck, shit, right there, oh my fucking god—" It's impossible to stop looking at this wrecked little hole as Yeseo takes your dick without mercy, earning every bit of the relentless stretch she begs for. Your vigorous thrusts get you so worked up, that you pull out and spread that reddened ass just to savor the view, gaping so beautifully and desperate to get full again—

Yeseo practically sobs when you shove your hard cock all the way back in balls fucking deep, which makes her bite down on the sheets, as if there's anything that'll muffle her screams when you're fucking her this hard.

"So good, so fucking good, your cock is fucking perfect and I don't ever want it to leave my ass," Yeseo cries out into the mattress, not making the slightest attempt to remain composed anymore. The poor bed absorbs every creak and slam, the whole frame shaking under your forceful thrusts that threaten to collapse the whole thing.

And Yeseo is right there, telling you how fucking good your cock is, that small body all yours to use how you please. Without hesitation, you keep giving her what she wants, keep giving this tight little asshole the pummeling it deserves—just listening to the squeal in her voice as you pound her the way that she absolutely desires it.

So there's no reason to stop when she's clearly aching for more, unable to get enough of how easily your cock tears her to pieces with every single thrust. All she can do is brace for the next one when your shaft hits so fucking deep—and then you crash down all your weight on top of her tiny frame, pinning her flat against the bed. so your cock somehow plunges even deeper into her asshole.

“F-fuck!” You reach such depths Yeseo could never hit with any toy, and she takes it all, face down, with unwavering lust that powers the motions of your hips until it's a struggle for either of you to think straight.

"Baby, this ass—I'd ruin my whole fucking career for this ass," you pant out through uneven breaths, continuing the dizzying pace that has no right feeling this good, pumping into her with every last thing you’ve got until it all becomes a blur.

Yeseo, she’s clenching so fucking tight that each thrust might be your last, your hips every bit merciless, crashing against the soft flesh of her perfect ass to gather up the most desperate cries.

"Fuck, that’s just what I want, so deep inside me,“ she struggles to say, downright delirious, and you're not far off, unsure how much more you can take of this, your balls feeling so tight as you pound and pound into that warm hole. In fact, you can tell there's no sense in even holding it in at this point, gathering up that final bit of momentum, making every single thrust count before you feel that release boiling up—

At the last possible second you pull out, eyes focused intently on her ruined little asshole that gapes so perfectly before Yeseo follows you off the bed and onto the floor. She drops to her knees, back against the side of the mattress and stares expectantly, while you aim inches away toward her beautiful, sweat-covered face, furiously stroking.

Your hand tangles up in her hair, giving a hard tug that forces her chin up. It's not the pleasure that brings you closer to the brink, it's the sight of her doe-eyed stare, all this innocence and sin rolled together that begs for your load without saying a word.

Yeseo gazes up with her lips open, tongue lolling out, so beautifully obedient, waiting for you to unload. "Go on, baby—fucking explode all over this pretty fucking face," Yeseo urges, and it's the way she looks at you, that mesmerizing, seductive eye contact that you can’t take it any longer.

In an instant, your release hits, with all this built-up tension that just empties out with a huge shot of your load streaking across the bridge of her nose, coating those cute cheeks. Yeseo doesn't even flinch as it splatters across her features, hot and thick, all the way up to her forehead, eyes so bright with this lewd, shameless gaze as you glaze her.

You spill everything from your balls like you’ve gone weeks without release, groaning as you shoot more massive streaks everywhere, even some getting caught in her lashes. This thick trail drips down to her lips as she just opens her mouth and lets it fall onto her hungry little tongue, a taste she’s been dying for.

She’s never looked so good.

After the last drop hits her mouth, it's already dripping down her chin, this pretty, porcelain skin painted so vividly. Yeseo’s a gorgeous mess, and you keep these weak pumps going, pumping it all out to ensure she’s covered as can be before her tongue collects your load settling around her messy lips, returning back to that cum-stained smile.

"So fucking good, you taste even better than I thought.”

And then you nearly topple over when she sucks at the tip until you're cleaned off, making sure every drop is drained. Yeseo holds your hips to keep you still, lips tight around your sensitive cockhead, looking so goddamn gorgeous with your load all over that face.

“Jesus, fuck—“ you say, feeling lightheaded, the impact of your orgasm still hitting like a train. Yeseo just smiles through it all, such a perfect image that you'll never get out of your head.

The bed beside you has never looked so welcoming, and while you recover, you hear a click and shuffling next to you. But you know what it is by this point, a new set of pictures with Yeseo’s face fucking glazed, ready to be sent to whoever wants to pad her bank account.

"I feel like I should get a cut now," you say with a tired smile, trying to catch your breath.

"Pounding my ass like that wasn't payment enough?" Yeseo fires back, but her tone is all soft and sweet as she saunters over, so much energy left in that perfect body compared to your spent state. "It's not my fault you cum so much..."

"Isn't it exactly that? Weren't you begging me to cum inside you the first time?"

"I think I liked you better when you were shy." Yeseo sticks her tongue out and giggles, disappearing into the bathroom. "I'm going to get cleaned up. And take more pictures while I'm at it."

By the time Yeseo returns from the bathroom, you're about ready to pass out, having fallen onto the pillows in total exhaustion. When your eyes open back up, she's inches away from your face, looking all clean and barefaced. "Are you really falling asleep like that without me?"

"You wore me out."

"I did what?” she asks incredulously, head tilted in confusion. “You're the one who fucked me senseless. I can still feel how sore my ass is when I sit down..."

"Hey, you asked for that. Also like…twenty other things."

"Guilty. Guess I’m a little greedy.”

With a content sigh, Yeseo throws an arm and leg over, cuddling up right against you. You're too tired to even move, while this bubbly girl seems she could go the rest of the night. But maybe you're not entirely worn out as her perfect little body presses up against your chest, those sweet lips pouting, looking so irresistibly delicious. And before you fall asleep, you need to have just one more taste of those lips.

#kpop smut #yeseo smut #kep1er smut #girl group smut #reader insert #kpop fanfic #male reader #kpop fanfiction #yeseo x reader

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aureatelys · 18 days ago

Text

can't lose when i'm with you

pairing: dbf!aaron hotchner/fem!reader rating: explicit w.c.: 7k a/n: happy valentines day! this idea came to me as a joke but then i couldnt stop thinking about it. also i know nothing about golf or country clubs so sorry in advance if i got anything wrong.

summary: You work as a beverage cart girl at your local country club and your dad ropes you in to make him look good during a business meeting with his new best friend.

content warnings: 18+ MDNI PLEASE, dbf!hotch so age gap, kinda flirty!reader, porn with no plot, dry humping on a golf cart yessir, semi public sex, m masturbation, some dirty talk, men (not hotch) being gross and touchy

read below or here on ao3 here <3

You’ve been working as a beverage cart girl at your dad’s country club for the past several months to save money for school. At first, the bluntness of some of these older men flirting with you caught you off guard, but after you got your first $100 tip just from serving a group of three men a couple of beers and flashed them a smile, you were hooked. Flirting was part of the job, which became easier and easier for you the more shifts you took.

After all, it was easy money—refilling the drinks in the coolers, driving around a well-kept golf course while underneath the shade of the cart, and handing out drinks with a little smile and a hair flip. Sometimes, you even sat nearby and cheered Ted on as he hobbled over to take his shot.

You even got to add some personal touches to your beloved cart—a pink fuzzy steering wheel cover, a blush pink sheet covering the leather seats so your thighs would stop sticking to them, a pillow in the shape of a heart for your back, and a cute miniature disco ball hanging from the roof because old people love to pretend like they can party again.

And the men weren’t too bad. You’ve had a few run ins with some on the handsier side, or ones that straight up asked to have sex with you, but luckily your manager dealt a swift and heavy hand and you never saw them again. Otherwise, the customers were mostly decent, as long as you were okay with some heavy flirting and generous eye-fucking.

It’s a typical busy Saturday when you meet Aaron.

You knew your dad was having some sort of “business meeting” with the highly decorated FBI agent he’s been recently obsessed and hanging out with, and he knew that you were mentioned the most in the country club’s Google reviews. He wanted you to put him in a good mood, which was basically in your job description. You didn’t mind since your father promised a hefty tip for you at the end.

You spot them a few yards away—your father’s lucky red hat, muted in color due to wear and tear, and another man nearly a foot taller standing near him. You call out for them and speed your way there in your rickety little cart when your dad waves to you.

When you pull up next to them, it looks like they’ve just finished Hole 2, which means this would be absolute prime time for you if they were typical customers.

“Hey boys,” you call out. You’re about to ask them if they’re thirsty when you get a good look at your dad’s friend.

He’s tall, almost outrageously so with how far you have to crane your neck to look at him. He’s also ridiculously handsome; strong brows, intense eyes, and floppy hair that looked so soft you craved running your hands through them. Wide shoulders, thick arms, and a little soft around the middle in a way that made something flutter in your stomach.

He was definitely not your typical customer.

“Hey sweetie!” Your dad comes to give you a kiss on the top of your head. “I didn’t know you were working today.”

He’s such a good actor, you think as you beam up at him. “And I didn’t know you were going golfing today. You guys thirsty?”

“Absolutely! I’ll take a beer, how about you, Aaron?”

“A water is fine.” Christ, even his voice is hot—low and smooth, sending a shiver down your spine despite the summer heat.

You make your way to the cooler in the back, squinting as soon as you’re out from the shade and into the blazing sun. “A beer and a water for my two most handsome guys coming right up!”

As always, your dad laughs, but when you peek a glance out of the corner of your eye from where you’re bent over, half of your body basically in the cooler as you fish out a water bottle, Aaron was wearing an obviously practiced neutral expression.

You finally find the bottle, your hand nearly going numb from how much ice you had to dig through, and hand it to Aaron with a grin. “Here you go.”

He meets your gaze and you’re drawn to the pretty brown sugar shade of his eyes. “Thank you.” He’s polite, not even a smile gracing his lips before he’s twisting the cap off and tipping his head back to take a long swig.

You swear your throat goes dry at the tantalizingly long line of his neck, his Adam’s apple bobbing. You’re able to get a closer look at him this way— the sharp cut of his jaw, the way the tight red polo was stretching over his broad shoulders, and the way his hands were so large it made the water bottle look almost comically small.

Your father’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts. “Aaron, this is my daughter. Sweetie, this is Aaron Hotchner, the unit chief of the BAU I told you about?”

Boy, have you heard about him—your dad hasn’t shut up about him over the past month, talking about how he’s such a great guy, how he’s been at the Bureau for over a decade, and how he’s been bragging about his golfing skills and that the two of them just had to play some time.

You don’t exactly remember what today’s meeting was about, something about implementing a new training program to his agents? Either way, he had hoped you would use your spectacular customer service to help his odds, but you’re sure he wasn’t hoping for you to have the thoughts you were currently having that involved his hands on your hips and your mouth pressed against his throat.

A ringtone blares, nearly making you jump, and you watch as your father steps away to take a call.

You put on your best customer service smile and put your hand out, pink nails glinting underneath the sun. “Nice to meet you, Aaron. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Something quirks at the corner of Aaron’s mouth as he puts his hand in yours. You try not to pay attention to how his hand nearly dwarfs yours or how you could feel the rough calluses on his fingers. “You as well.”

“Unit chief, huh?” you ask, raising a hand to shield your eyes from the sun. “I bet that’s a really stressful job. You should come visit me more. To de-stress.”

And it’s like Aaron’s face transforms into something softer, younger. You watch in delight as his eyebrows shoot up in surprise, mouth twisting in an effort to hide an amused smile. “Should I now?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you say, leaning your hip against your cart. You’re suddenly glad you wore your shortest tennis skirt and sleeveless top that emphasized your cleavage quite well today. “I’m here almost every day and we close at 6.”

His body turns towards you, stepping in closer. You think you catch the faintest whiff of his woodsy cologne, breaking through the freshly cut grass smell. “Is that why your dad was so adamant about going golfing today? So his daughter could flirt his way into me approving his training curriculum?”

An incredulous laugh nearly bubbles out of you at his instant ability to read through you despite only knowing each other less than 5 minutes. You assume he’s the unit chief for a reason.

“Is it working?”

He says nothing for a moment, just looking you up and down in a way that made you want to shift, though not uncomfortably. He studies you and your pristine white sneakers, the hem of your tennis skirt brushing against the warm expanse of your thighs, and your hair in a high ponytail. He glances at the cannisters of edible glitter and mini umbrellas on your bev cart. You see his eyes dance with amusement when he notices the mini disco ball swinging from your roof.

When he looks back at you, eyebrows relaxed, the professional flat line of his mouth was gone and instead replaced with something more private. “Yes.”

Excitement settles in your chest, light and golden. You feel your face flush out of your own accord and hope you can blame the summer sun beating down on you and not your father’s coworker, no more than 20 years older than you, flirting with you.

Your father suddenly appears right around Aaron’s shoulder, always with impeccable timing. He looks just as flushed as you feel, sweat building at his hairline while Aaron looks impossibly dry despite the humidity. “Ready to move onto the next hole, Hotch?”

And just like that, Aaron’s face smoothly changes to polite professionalism and not like you were seconds away from throwing your arms around his neck. He nods and gives you a courteous smile, something playful tugging at his lips. “It was nice to meet you.”

When your father fishes through his wallet to pay for the drinks, and hopefully your tip as well, Aaron lays a hand over his before he’s pulling out his own from his back pocket. “I got it,” he says, before handing you two crisp $100 bills.

“Oh,” you say before you could help yourself. And because it’s Aaron, whom you’ve never met before and not like your other customers, you didn’t feel quite comfortable in taking his money. Yet. “This more than pays for the drinks…”

He shakes his head and pushes the money towards you. “I know.”

You take his money, solely because you don’t want to cause a scene when your father was already stuttering over himself in an attempt to still cover the bill himself. You notice how thick his fingers are over the folded bills and ignore the warmth tingling up your spine when your fingers brush against his.

“Thank you, Aaron.” You don’t miss the way his eyes barely narrow at the sound of his name from your lips or the imperceptible clench of his hand at his side.

You try to hide the smirk threatening to show on your face when you get back into your cart, your silly keychains hanging from the ignition clinking with the action. You put your cart in drive and look over your shoulder at Aaron, your father’s attention already enraptured by the phone in his hand.

“See you around, handsome.”

You think you see a faint hint of pink at the tips of Aaron’s ears before you drive away.

You don’t see Aaron for several weeks.

You try not to let it bother you, starting to come to terms with the possibility that he just wasn’t interested in you or that you were too young and juvenile for him. So what if you’ve been picking up more shifts lately, just in case he decided to show up? Or spending your entire paycheck on cute outfits that hug you in all the right places? That isn’t anyone else’s business except yours.

So it’s totally because you’ve been bored all day when you let out a squeak of excitement at the text you get from your dad letting you know that him and Aaron were on their way to the country club.

It’s a slow Thursday afternoon, which means the men that do show up to play, clearly avoiding their wives, believe they can keep you around at their beck and call. A group of 3 older gentlemen who were somewhat regulars had asked you to drive them around in your golf cart despite regulations not allowing customers to catch a ride, but they’ve already racked up hundreds of dollars in drinks, so you’re sure your boss wouldn’t mind.

They’re also a little touchy, wanting to teach you how to play so they have an excuse to put their hands on your hips and not so subtly cop a feel, but their usual tips at the end of the day easily pays for half of your rent. So, you play along by flipping your hair over your shoulder a bit, maybe even acting a little ditsy when they talk about golf as if your dad hadn’t thrown you in lessons as soon as you were able to hold a club.

That’s why you’ve been sitting behind your wheel entertaining grandpa for the past 30 minutes, his friends actually focused on the game, as he rattles on about his ex-wife, how he’s currently looking for a younger girl to take out, and the best way to move your hips when you shoot.

“If you stand up, I can show you how,” he says hoarsely, standing so closely you can smell not only the acrid scent of beer that he’s been sipping on but also the general musty smell of old people you’ve unfortunately become familiar with.

You fake a laugh, even playing it up by leaning forward and patting his wrinkled hand from where it’s inching closer and closer to you on the headrest. “Oh, Jerry, I don’t think we have time for that. I have to make my rounds.”

When you spot Aaron and your father driving over the hill, the rattle of the shitty golf carts a familiar tune, you immediately lock gazes with him. It’s like watching a movie in slow motion the way you’re able to discern when Aaron notices the older man’s close proximity and your clear uncomfortable posture— his eyebrows drawing up in barely concealed shock before knitting in concern, eyes narrowing.

You let out a breathless laugh at the silent rage, plain as day, before scooting out through the other side of the cart and away from Jerry and his beady eyes.

“Where you going, hot stuff?” Ew.

You put on your sweet customer service smile, often used to placate the rowdier men, before you brush away imaginary dust and start throwing away the trash left on your cart. “Jerry! I still have to do my job!”

You’re relieved when Jerry finally takes the hint and shuffles away towards his golf bag that he left near the teeing area just as Aaron and your father pull up next to you with a screech, giving you a slight breeze. When Aaron steps out of the cart, the most mundane action in the world, he looks unfairly attractive. You stare at the slight flex of his biceps when he holds onto the roof of the cart before tearing yourself away and turning towards your dad.

“How are my two favorite guys?” you tease, giving your dad a hug when he opens his arms out.

“I don’t know about Hotch but I’m ready to kick his ass,” your dad laughs, patting Aaron’s back like they’re suddenly best friends. Which is almost true, seeing as how your dad has somehow become even more obsessed with him, having not stopped talking about losing to him several weeks ago and has evidently somehow roped him into another day on the course.

“Well, I don’t think I should choose sides,” you giggle and glance at Aaron. He’s squinting at you, as if you’re speaking a completely different language, his expression still strained and posture tense.

You smile at him and give him a cheery little wave. “Hi Aaron.”

“Hi,” he says slowly, shoulders slowly relaxing, and hearing his voice makes you breathless all over again. “Are you okay?”

And it’s sweet, the obvious way Aaron is checking in on you as if you don’t do this every day. Truthfully, you’re used to it and it’s not like the men take it too far. You’re more focused on the fact that this is your second time meeting Aaron and he’s already concerned about your wellbeing and personal space like the true gentleman he is.

You almost want to tease, poke fun at him, but then you remember your father standing mere inches away who probably wouldn’t like you flirting so unabashedly with his friend/coworker.

Instead, you roll your eyes and head towards your cart. “I’m fine. So, what can I get for you, handsome?”

You’re pulling up the POS on your iPad when you notice Aaron hasn’t answered yet. You turn to lean your hip against your cart, meeting his gaze steadily from where he’s studying you.

You decide to blatantly look him up and down— drinking in the fitted dark green polo, showing off the veins decorating his forearms, and black slacks, making him appear taller and hanging enticingly low on his hips. His hair is tousled from the wind and you notice some gray dusting at his sideburns. And then there’s something about the Rolex on his wrist, God, he’s so hot.

Aaron notices you checking him out, because of course he does. His eyes barely flicker down your body, not quite taking the same liberty as you, but you feel want curling in your stomach when he licks his lips.

“A gin and tonic sounds great, sweetie,” your father says, once again interrupting your thoughts, before he’s immediately launching into a ramble regarding what you assume is some office gossip.

“A water is fine,” Aaron says in between your dad’s breaths. He gives you a sheepish little twitch of the mouth that you shouldn’t find so endearing before he turns to give your dad his full attention.

You make your dad’s drink, the motions automatic and familiar, before you’re opening the cooler and bending over to reach a water bottle at the very bottom. You weren’t really doing it on purpose this time, too focused on getting the coldest bottle at the bottom of the cooler for him, but you still feel a thrill run up your spine when you hear a choked cough behind you.

At least you chose a skort today and not a skirt, though you’re sure it still doesn’t leave much room for the imagination with its flimsy white fabric.

A smirk tugs at your lips, hidden by the cooler, before you turn around with a polite smile and drinks in your hands. Maybe you weren’t wrong about being too juvenile for Aaron after all. “Here you guys are.”

When Aaron’s fingers brush against yours, something hot twists itself into your stomach and settles in between your thighs. You meet his gaze and notice his eyes, dark and almost predatory, pupils nearly completely blown.

You distantly hear your name being called through the blood rushing in your ears. When you break from the hold Aaron’s stare has on you and turn to where the sound came from, you spot Jerry still standing near his golf bag. He and his friends evidently still haven’t taken their shots and moved on yet, instead beckoning you over with a wave as if you were some bumbling waitress.

“Well, duty calls,” you feign a sigh. When you turn back around, Aaron’s wearing an almost petulant frown as he watches Jerry continue calling for you.

“We’ll see you around, pumpkin,” your dad says before slapping a $50 dollar bill in your hand, tutting at Aaron when he starts to pull out his wallet. “Let’s get a move on.”

And then he’s walking away, once again leaving you and Aaron alone.

You move to clean up your cart from where you made your drink, expecting Aaron to silently follow your father and not seeing him for several weeks again. You’re pleasantly surprised, maybe even a little smug, when you hear Aaron clear his throat, as if unsure what to say. And wouldn’t that be something—causing a unit chief of the FBI to hesitate.

“You get off at 6, right?”

A lazy grin blooms across your face as you meet Aaron’s eyes. He appears composed, stoic, but you can see the uncertainty swimming in his eyes, the frown still tugging at his lips as if he can’t get the thought of you with Jerry off his mind. He’s rubbing his thumb across his fingers and you wonder how it would feel on the bare skin of your hips.

“I sure do,” you chirp. “I’ll see you then?”

You can tell that Aaron wasn’t expecting you to give him another chance at backing out. His eyebrows raise in surprise, similarly to how they did when he first met you, like he thought he had you all figured out.

“See you then.”

Although you’re stuck with Jerry and his friends for the next 3 hours, you can feel the heavy weight of Aaron’s watchful eyes on your back the entire time. There were even several moments where you thought he was going to burn a hole in the back of your head, or especially Jerry’s, every time he put his clammy hands on yours to help you with a swing or at the small of your back.

And so what if you played it up a little, knowing that you barely knew Aaron but you were already digging your way under his skin?

Knowing Aaron was only several yards away, you laughed extra hard at Jerry’s jokes and bent over a little more every time you set the ball on the tee. It was exhilarating, playful in a way you’ve never felt before. You couldn’t deny that noticing the carnal way Aaron reacted to you, how he stared at you like he wanted to eat you alive, didn’t get you all hot and bothered. You’re sure the wetness between your legs was proof enough.

By the time 6 o’clock finally rolls around and you’re pulling up to the extra storage shed at the back of the country club, your wallet has grown a couple hundred dollars more and your cart’s glove box has gained a couple more slips of paper with phone numbers to gather dust in.

You’ve just finished unloading your cart and cleaning out your shelves when you hear another cart pulling up behind you. When you turn and realize that it’s Aaron, that he actually showed up, you feel giddy in a way you haven’t felt since you were a teenager.

“Hey you,” you say over the stack of crates you’re trying to organize. “Let me finish up real quick and then we can go.” Go where, you have no idea, but you’re sure the two of you will figure it out.

“Do you need any help?” he asks, standing so close to you now you can get a full whiff of his cologne. It’s something woodsy and warm that settles comfortably in your chest.

Any other day, you would’ve taken up his offer if only as an excuse to see him lifting crates of drinks and drooling over the way his arms would surely nearly burst out of his sleeves, but you’re honestly almost done and ready to get the hell out of here. “I’m almost done, I promise. But next time you can help so you can show off.”

Aaron immediately rolls his eyes, but you watch with glee as something quirks at the corner of his lips. “Yes, I sat in my car in the parking lot and waited for you just to show off.”

Damn, he is so cute when he’s actually making jokes with you.

You put away all of the cleaning products and lock the door before you’re stepping out to stand in front of Aaron where he’s hovering near your cart.

When you crane your neck to look up at him, you’re suddenly aware of how alone the two of you are, tucked away in a secluded area at the back of the country club where only employees have access to. The two of you are surrounded by trees, thankfully shielding you from the sun, and there’s only one path in and out of the area. The near constant drone of cicadas would be almost annoying if your attention wasn’t all focused on Aaron.

“So, why did you wait for me then?”

And just like that, Aaron’s eyes darken and he clenches his jaw. Now that there was nobody else around, teasing him almost felt like you were poking at a grumpy bear. A cute and very hot bear, but a bear, nonetheless.

“So I can do this.”

And then he’s placing a gentle hand on your waist, hot despite your already sun-kissed skin, and leaning in slowly, as if giving you the chance to back out in case he was reading your signals wrong.

You don’t think you could’ve laid it on thicker, so you meet him halfway to finally press your mouths together.

His lips are soft and he smells like sunscreen, and the way he kisses you is so tender it makes your chest tighten just a little. But it’s not enough.

You step closer into him, throwing your arms around his neck, and deepen the kiss. You catch him by surprise, detecting the exasperated smile against your mouth, but then his hand tightens its grip on your hip and he’s pulling you until you’re pressed flushed up against him.

You can feel the muscles in his chest and the softness of his stomach this way, and it’s so fucking delicious you can’t help the moan that comes out of your mouth and into his.

It’s like a dam breaks loose because Aaron groans into your mouth, now causing you to smile, and then he’s spinning you around until he’s sitting in your golf cart and you’re planted right on his lap, straddling him with your knees on either side of his hips and the steering wheel digging into the small of your back.

You gasp in surprise, nearly dizzy with the action, but it melts into a breathy moan when Aaron’s hands run all over you—down your back, your hips, the flesh of your thighs, and then grabbing onto your ass so hard it just pushes you further into his lap. The barely there friction of his belt buckle against your pussy from the movement has you rolling your eyes back into your head, causing you to cant your hips forward again to chase the sharp pleasure twisting in your stomach.

“You’re so,” he mutters under his breath, face tucked between your breasts as he attempts to press open-mouthed kisses against the skin exposed by your black work polo. “Pretty.”

Then he’s lifting up your shirt until it gathers underneath your arms, just enough so he can move the band of your sports bra up so he could put his warm, wet mouth on the underside of your breasts. You know you must smell like sweat and sunscreen, your clothes still sticking to you, but that seems to just spur Aaron on as he moves up to suck a nipple into his mouth, flicking it repeatedly with his tongue.

“Aaron…” you exhale, pushing your chest into him to chase the wet heat of his mouth as he continues alternating sucking and licking at your nipples, hardening nearly immediately under him. It feels so fucking divine, you don’t think having your nipples played with has ever felt this good. You don’t even want to think about where else he can use his mouth. “Not here…”

He pulls back from your breasts and you’re mesmerized by the spit-slick shine of his lips as he meets your gaze from below you. His hands immediately come to replace his mouth, initially groping at you until thick fingers are grazing over your nipples before gently pinching. “There’s a banquet going on at the front of the club so no one’s coming back here.”

You have to bite your lip to prevent a whimper at the hot pleasure-pain from your breasts, your own hands coming up to tug at the damp hair on the back of his neck. Aaron groans at that, a sound coming deep from within his chest, and he jerkily thrusts his hips up as if they moved of their own accord.

You can feel the line of his hard cock against your inner thigh, so close to where you desperately want him, and your patience wanes thin for just a moment. Of course Aaron checked out the club first before coming back to meet you, as if he was planning on ambushing you behind the country club the entire time.

“We don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” Aaron says, voice tight as if he was holding himself back from taking you right there on your golf cart with the fuzzy pink blanket on the seat and fairy lights hanging from the dashboard.

You’re tempted take him up on his offer and stop; climbing off his lap and inviting him back to your apartment so you can moan and scream all you want in your very comfortable bed, because Aaron seems like the type of man to want to hear every single noise.

But the thought of both of you being so desperate that you can’t help but rut against each other behind a fancy country club, where you’re at risk of anyone walking around the building and finding you? With your shirt rolled up and Aaron’s fingers nearly pressing bruises against your hips? You really should not find that as intoxicating and hot as you do.

It’s going to be uncomfortable, with the summer sun just barely moving to set over the horizon and your golf cart sometimes being too small even for you. You feel sweat already forming on your upper lip and hair sticking to your neck, internally hitting yourself for not buying that $5 fan that mounts on your dash.

Yet, as you look down at Aaron from where he’s propped his chin on your chest to meet your gaze, somehow looking both cute and ridiculously hot, you knew you couldn’t back out.

“Okay,” you whisper, grinning down at him before your fingers intertwine with his hair again to lean his head back and kiss him.

You think Aaron chuckles but you’re already swallowing it, shuffling somehow closer until the entire line of your body is against his. The top of your head keeps bumping into the roof of the cart and your thighs are already burning from the uncomfortable position of sitting up, but just then you angle your hips differently when you drop down and his bulge rubs against your clit in a way that has you sucking in a sharp breath.

“Fuck, you’d look so pretty riding on my cock,” Aaron breathes against your lips, the grip he has on your waist tightening as he starts to move you up and down on his lap. “I bet you’re so wet for me.”

His left hand trails down your thigh, moving inward, and you squirm when you feel his thick fingers pressing against your cunt, wetness already seeping through your panties and the shorts of your tennis skirt. He briefly rubs through down your slit, spreading the wetness around and causing the fabric to cling to you.

“Is this all for me, pretty girl?” he murmurs, not even giving you the chance to answer before he’s moving the fabric aside to press his hot fingers against your soaked cunt.

You let out a long moan at finally being touched, the ache between your thighs becoming unbearable. You try to angle your hips in an effort to get more of his fingers on you, maybe even inside of you, but Aaron annoyingly avoids your hole and instead intently traces them gently through your folds before moving up to rub circles against your clit.

“Fuck,” you gasp, eyes nearly fluttering shut and your thighs trembling as the tight coil in the pit of your stomach builds so fast it knocks the breath out of you.

Aaron hums. “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

You nod, at a loss for words as you chase the building pressure. He rubs your clit agonizingly slow, like he wants to prolong this as he intently studies your reactions.

You’re about to beg him to hurry up when he stops and removes his fingers from underneath your skirt. Your breath stutters at the loss of sensation until you notice Aaron holding his hand up to eye-level.

His thick fingers are obscenely drenched in your wetness, nearly glistening. You should feel embarrassed, that you’re so horny for him that you’re getting off at the possibility of being caught, but you don’t. In fact, noticing just how much Aaron is enjoying you enjoying yourself makes you feel even more flushed, more needy.

You lean in to bring his two fingers into your open mouth, swirling your tongue around the rough callouses as your own musky taste infiltrates your senses.

When you look down to meet his eyes, yours no doubt glossed over, he nearly growls as he yanks his fingers out of your mouth and kisses you, tongue prodding against yours. You feel a rumble from his chest as he chases the taste of your pussy in your mouth.

When he pulls back, he has a wild look in his eyes that does nothing to quell the fire in your stomach and the growing ache in your pussy. He runs his hands up and down your sides, nearly reverent, before thrusting his hips up so his cock presses against you. “Do you think you can come like this?”

Honestly, you think you could come in 30 seconds, with the way he grabs and moves your hips so deliciously you swear you could feel every inch of him, staring at you as if he couldn’t believe you were giving him the time of day.

“Yes,” you breath, and then Aaron is giving you a wicked grin, something dangerous in his eyes.

He moves you until you’re fully seated on his lap, giving your knees a break, and then moving you back and forth against his cock, the drag of his slacks against the fabric of your shorts rubbing deliciously against your clit, causing you to nearly choke on your own saliva.

You rest your forehead against his, both of you panting, as you start grinding against him. Even through the several layers of fabric, you can feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing in between your cunt and against your clit. You nearly feel dizzy, like the heat was getting to you, as your hands scramble to find purchase on his broad shoulders.

“Just like that, honey,” Aaron pants as you watch a droplet of sweat run down the side of his face through half-lidded eyes. “Make yourself come just like that.”

You’re shamelessly whimpering in between your moans now as you grind against him faster, the tightness in your core growing at the lewdness of his words. Aaron just lets you rut against him, essentially sitting still besides his hands on your hips helping you move back and forth. You feel the stickiness on your inner thighs, a mixture of sweat and your arousal, and you bet if you glanced down, there’d be a wet spot on his slacks. That image in your head sends you reeling and nearly over the edge, your thighs squeezing around his hips.

“Come on, sweetie.” Fuck, even the low tone of his voice adds to it, the raspiness giving away how just as equally turned on he was. Your chest is heaving, thighs trembling, and you’re so fucking close. “I can’t wait to fuck your pretty pussy later, make you come, over and over on my cock.”

Aaron rolls his hips then, and the new angle has the head of his cock pressing against your clit just so that has you gasping, back arching, and you finally fall over the edge as your orgasm hits you like a fucking train.

Your breath is knocked out of your chest, your eyes squeezing shut as you desperately chase the feeling of his cock against your clit as your clench around nothing. You distantly feel Aaron still grinding your hips back and forth as you ride it out, the tight hold he has on your hips just adding to your bliss. The repeated motions eventually become overstimulating, almost too much, but it deliciously adds to your aftershocks and causes you to release a choked whimper.

When you blearily blink your eyes open, Aaron is staring at you like he’s drinking you up, memorizing every little detail about you. The hair at his forehead is curling from the sweat and his face is tinged pink, but his eyes are a pretty molten brown and there’s something soft tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Hey handsome,” you say breathlessly, giving him a weary smile as you bring your hand up to wipe away the sweat on your own forehead. When you purse your lips, Aaron huffs a laugh and immediately leans in to give you a chaste kiss that does nothing to calm your racing heart.

You feel Aaron languidly move his hips up against you, making you hum against his mouth. When you look down, not only do you see the line of his cock where he’s still impossibly hard, but also a barely visible wet spot on his black slacks. From you.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly, embarrassment burning hot on your ears.

“I’m not,” Aaron says before his hands come down to swiftly unbuckle his belt and pull down his pants and briefs until his cock springs free.

Your mouth instantly waters because fuck, is he big. He’s thick, a drop of precum beading at the slit with a delicious-looking prominent vein that runs on the underside that you can see when he wraps his left hand around his cock and starts jerking himself off.

“Do you want me to…” you trail off, your hands twitching from where they’re still on top of his shoulders and eyes zeroing in on his large hand on his cock.

“That’s okay, sweetheart,” he huffs. “I’m close, just sit there and look pretty.”

You think your brain short circuits, because no way is this man not only okay with you rutting up on him, but also got close enough to coming from watching you come? And now he doesn’t even want you to touch him, he’s okay with just looking at you as he gets himself off?

Your heart thumps erratically because Aaron looks like the absolute definition of sin; hair slightly damp and tousled, his bicep flexing from where he’s erratically jerking himself off, and his chest heaving deliciously. His lips are parted and he’s watching you with half-lidded eyes, your shirt still bunched under your arms and exposing your breasts and your aching thighs wrapped around him.

You lean back against the steering wheel, ignoring how it digs harder into your back, as you decide to flip up your skirt until your clothed cunt is exposed. The piece of fabric is nearly see-through with how wet you are, and you bite your lip when you bring a hand down to move the fabric aside and angle your hips up until your bare pussy was exposed.

Aaron lets out a strangled noise, and you watch in awe as his hand around his cock pumps faster until it’s nearly a blur. You look up to see his eyes trained on your pussy, wet and puffy. The squelching of him fucking into his own hand, so turned on that he was steadily leaking precum from the slit of his cock was so fucking filthy that you felt the beginning sparks of arousal tugging in your abdomen again.

“Are you going to come all over my pussy?” you whisper.

Aaron suddenly lets out a deep and guttural groan, his breath stuttering and hand stilling, before he comes with his head thrown back. You watch, mesmerized, as hot spurts of his come land on your bare pussy, some even catching on your folds as you clench around nothing.

It’s so fucking hot, he’s so fucking hot.

It’s silent while you both catch your breath, the mindless chirping of birds dwindling down as the sun finally starts to set and the air begins to slightly cool.

You pull your shirt down before you lean over to reach for the tissues you usually keep in your purse on the floor. The way you have to twist your body while still on Aaron’s lap is uncomfortable, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he helps you sit back up with hands on your sides.

He wordlessly takes the pack of tissues from your hand to clean you up. He’s meticulous, eyebrows almost comically furrowed in concentration as he makes sure you’re presentable again. When he’s done, he looks around for a trash can and, upon not finding one, he stuffs the tissues in his pocket. You give him a teasing disgusted look, to which Aaron responds by rolling his eyes.

When you climb off his lap with a groan, your hips and knees pop. You stretch your back out a bit by twisting your body back and forth and notice Aaron getting up as well, watching you with a confused, yet fond, expression.

“You’re too young for your body to crack like that.”

You laugh. “Whatever you say, grandpa.”

You’re suddenly being pulled into Aaron’s embrace with a squeal, an arm snaking around your waist, instinctively putting your hands up on his chest as you steady yourself.

“I think I’ve more than shown you that I’m not a grandpa,” he mutters, lowly and directly in your ear, making you nearly swoon against him.

You clear your throat, using him as leverage to push back at him until you’re able to meet his eyes. “Well, not-grandpa, would you be able to wash my cart blanket? Since it was your idea to dirty it up.”

You can tell Aaron is holding himself back from rolling his eyes again. Instead, he chuckles, letting you go so he could grab the fuzzy pink blanket that is actually most likely devoid of any suspicious stains.

“Can I ride in your car?” you ask, giving him a shy smile. “So I can… see how efficient your washer and dryer is? The material for that blanket is very expensive, you know.” Never mind the fact that you got it from Target nor the fact that you drove yourself to the country club.

Aaron obviously sees right through you, not bothering to hold back a soft laugh. Witnessing him joking with you, his guard down, has your heart thumping just a little bit harder.

He stretches his hand out to you, palm up. “Come on, let’s go inspect my house appliances then.”

You place your hand in his, silently giggling to yourself when you notice how large his hand looks compared to yours, and sidle up next to him despite both of you still damp with sweat.

“Let’s go, hot grandpa.”

The laugh that Aaron lets out, soft and sweet, makes you so grateful to your dad for getting you this job.

taglist <3 @kiwriteswords @solardrop @knitmeatardis @mggslover lmk if you would like to be added!

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner fic #dbf!hotch #dbf!aaron hotchner #mine #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x reader smut

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wonda-fhr · 1 year ago

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New Chargestep story for my beloved couple is on AO3. worcount 1,318; no warnings

Unanswered call - Wonda_hc - Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén [Archive of Our Own] Not all memories can be pushed back, even if they no longer have any meaning. A painful but also tender moment for these two lovesick idiots.

#i made two sentences i am so good with summaries ��#I probably only wrote that because I needed a dose of Ortega on his knees 😏#chargestep #ricardo ortega #david kingsley #get in touch if you can't read ao3 #wonda writes

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aestas---estas · 3 months ago

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With all that we've been through, it's still you

MDNI 18+ | Read on AO3 | Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | ~3,1k words | fem!reader, plus-sized/curvy reader (few mentions), light angst, fluff, emotional sex, vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), unprotected PiV sex (wrap it in real life folks), creampie | if I forgot a tag/tw please tell me

The first day after Simon gets back from deployment is always the best and worst 24 hours of your life.

He's home, he's alive, he's safe — and that makes your heart soar, especially after missions where he has to go dark for weeks at a time.

But it's also like living with a ghost. He exiles himself to the guest room, sleeps on the ugly pull-out couch the two of you bought specifically because it was easy on his back.

The only reasons you even know he's home are the boots by the door and the jacket hung on the hook. He doesn't talk to you, moves as quiet as a mouse, only leaves his self-imposed enclosure when he knows you're busy elsewhere in the house.

He can't bear the thought of touching you with bloodstained hands. Even when his skin is squeaky clean after several washes before even leaving for your shared home, the haunting images in his mind remind him of what he does during his time away. So he turns the shower as hot as it'll go and scrubs and scrubs and scrubs until his skin is red and raw to the touch. And even then he still waits, bides his time, until he can close his eyes and imagine you without your pretty face morphing into the bloodied and dying visages of comrades and enemies alike.

But just like clockwork, after 24 hours and 3 showers, Simon finds you and huddles up close. In the kitchen, with his arms wrapped around your middle as he crowds you against the counter, burying his nose in the crook of your neck. In the living room, laying himself down next to you with his head on your plush thighs, guiding the hand you're not using to scroll on your phone to card through his hair and scratch his scalp. In the bath, kneeling next to the tub as he begs with his eyes to help you wash your hair or just holding your hand and rubbing circles into your skin; reminding himself that you're alive, that you're safe, that you're not afraid of him despite the various atrocities he's committed.

Your favourite, however, are times like tonight, when it's the middle of the night and you wake from the mattress dipping behind you as Simon climbs in under the covers. He slides an arm around your middle, pulling you close, pressing his chest to your back until there isn't a sliver of air separating your bodies.

“Missed you, dove,” Simon murmurs, his lips hot on the back of your neck. His soft kisses make goosebumps rise on your exposed arms, and a barely suppressed shiver runs down your spine when he catches your earlobe for a quick, gentle nibble.

“Missed you too, Si,” you sigh out blissfully, body already relaxed and soft from his ministrations, anticipating the pleasure to come.

“Want you,” he says in between hot, open mouthed kisses. His hand has slid up under your sleep shirt, resting warm and heavy with intent on your stomach — waiting for permission before venturing further.

“You have me,” you promise, pressing yourself impossibly closer to his chest, one leg hooking over his.

You tilt your head, exposing more of your throat to Simon, a soft moan slipping from your lips when his big palm reaches up and grabs at a breast. It's gentle, a massage almost, and it makes your eyes flutter shut.

“My sweet girl.” Simon's voice is like liquid silk to your ears, low and sensual and full of unadulterated lust. You gasp when his rough fingers finally pay attention to your nipple; rolling and tugging at it until it's pebbled and sensitive.

You push your hips back against his, feeling the evidence of his arousal press against your ass. A low moan rumbles through Simon's chest as you move against him, his free hand pushing your shirt out of the way, up over the swell of your breasts, before rolling you to your back swiftly.

He's on top of you within a second, fitting himself in the cradle of your thighs, the vast expanse of his chest covering yours. His big paws frame your face and then you're kissing. It's soft and gentle, all lips and tongue; slow and reverent but no less passionate.

Simon's heavy on top of you, almost crushingly so. But if this is the way you go, unable to breathe with your lips glued to the man you love, then so be it. He's your favourite weighted blanket and you'd give anything to just stay like this forever.

Your fingers wander over his naked back, tracing and mapping the scars and marks littering his flesh; both old and new. When morning comes, you'll pepper them with kisses in the soft glow of the sun, but for now you're both satisfied with just touching and feeling each other.

“I love you,” Simon whispers, and you make a reluctant noise in your throat when he pulls his lips away from yours to say it. But your complaint dies the moment his mouth trails hot down your throat, sucking and kissing and licking at your skin all the way down to your chest.

You can feel his lips move as he mutters something against your sternum — more to himself than to you — but his voice is muffled, face pressed in between your full tits making the sound swallowed and unintelligible.

With one hand still running up and down the expanse of his back, you push your other one up and into his hair, petting and scratching until Simon preens under your touch. He stays there for a moment, listening to your heartbeat under his ear; reminding himself yet again that you’re alive, that you’re safe, that you love him.

You don’t get impatient with him, never. You always let him take everything at his own pace, and tonight is no different. He whispers muffled apologies against your skin, words dripping with feelings of both remorse and conviction. He does what he does because he needs to — someone always needs to. Like taking out the trash of the world, it’s not pleasant, but it is necessary. And the fact that he’s good at his job only means he gets to come back to your side. You, with your soft body and cradling arms and loving words.

Simon mouths his way to your already pert nipple, softly kissing around it before engulfing the sensitive nub, flicking it with his tongue, letting his teeth just barely make contact. Your breath hitches in your chest and a silent moan escapes your lips. And then he switches sides, keeping the pleasure on your abandoned breast with his fingers as he rolls and tugs at your nipple, all while licking and sucking on the other.

“Simon,” you hum in satisfaction, inadvertently spurring him on. His chest rumbles, something low and hungry that vibrates through him to you. His hands get rougher, calloused fingers digging into your flesh as he kisses his way down your chest until your thighs frame his shoulders.

He doesn’t ask, not verbally, but his eyes meet yours and you can see the need, the hunger, the desperation, in them clear as day. So you smile and give him a nod, lovingly stroking his cheek before settling your hand back in his hair — not pushing or pulling, just resting there, like an unspoken anchor to keep both of you connected in the moment.

Simon kisses your cunt over your underwear, once, twice, three times, before pulling the fabric to the side to get his tongue on you.

He doesn’t eat like a man starved, despite the lust in his eyes. No, he takes his time; practically making out with your pussy, slowly and steadily, almost romantically if it weren’t for the downright pornographic noises. His tongue is lapping and flicking at all the right spots, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs to keep you spread for his broad shoulders even when your body reacts to his ministrations and instinctually tries to close them. Simon knows what he wants and how to get it, and he won’t stop until you’re shaking with pleasure.

You come undone when he sucks your clit into his mouth, your hand grabbing a fistful of his hair as you breathe “right there, god, right there, Si”. Your back arches, the muscles in your thighs lock up, and then the feeling consumes you whole — it swallows you as white explodes in your vision, heart beating frantically as if trying to escape from your chest. Your lips form the syllables of his name, but you can’t be sure what exactly came out with how loud your blood rushes in your ears.

Simon licks you through the waves, moans in satisfaction as he laps up your slick, hips rutting against the soft mattress because you’re just that sweet. Your grip on his hair just barely borders on painful, but the slight sting only gives way to the much louder feelings of pride and satisfaction.

“You with me?” he asks once the aftershocks have rolled through your body and you’re trying to catch your breath.

“Yeah,” you reply, voice shaky but no less joyous — you have Simon back, not just in body, but in mind and soul. He’s back with you emotionally for the first time since he walked through your front door 24 hours prior.

Simon gives you a smile, a true one, not one of those cocky smirks he throws other people's way, and angles his head to press a kiss to your thigh. If this was any other night he would’ve bitten and sucked a bruise into your skin, but not tonight; tonight was all about reconnection, about soft and sweet love, about celebrating that you’re both alive.

He sits back on his knees, keeping your legs spread open with his hands, just looking down at you for a moment, taking it all in. Your breathing hasn’t steadied just yet, your chest rapidly rising and falling, and droplets of sweat decorate your heated skin. The shirt is still pushed up over your breasts and your underwear are crooked from when he pulled them aside instead of off. You’ve never looked more beautiful to Simon.

“Got another one in you?” he questions, running his hands down your thighs until his fingers are hooked in elastic, ready to tug the fabric away at your say-so.

You smile at him, lovingly and warm and radiant, and nod your head enthusiastically. You help him in discarding the rest of your clothes, throwing the few pieces both of you have to a heap on the ground. He settles back beside you on the bed, one big palm cradling your cheeks as he turns your head to look at him.

Unspoken I missed you’s and I love you’s exchange between your gazes. Words aren’t necessary right now, his and your expressions alone speak volumes about the devotion you both hold for the other.

Simon’s free hand wanders down the length of your body, slow and tender, almost teasing in its gentleness. You gasp as a thick finger prods longingly at your cunt, a few slow pumps before curling inside to massage that spongy spot that makes you see stars; his thumb rubbing firm circles over your clit in a tandem of pleasure.

“More,” you breathe, clutching at his bicep, feeling the muscles work as he obliges and stuffs you full with a second then a third finger. He works you up, pumping and rubbing at all the right spots, making sure you’re prepared for when he finally gets to slip his cock inside. He doesn’t let you fall off the edge, though, keeps you teetering on it until you’re a panting, shaking mess; like putty in his hands, so soft, so pliable, begging him for more, more, more.

It's not until you say his name, half pleading, half scolding, that he takes pity on you. The sound of his fingers sliding out of you is squelchingly wet, like your cunt is complaining, unwilling to let them go. And when he sucks the digits into his mouth it makes your face heat with a combination of arousal and embarrassment. He savours your taste, as if he didn't get enough of it, of you, while eating you out; eyes closed, throat humming in satisfied contentment, and you can't help but be hypnotised by the sight.

Simon lets his fingers go with a pop before leaning over you, opening the drawer on your bedside table to rifle through it blindly until he finds the bottle of lube he knew was there. You've taken the full length and girth of his cock without this much prep and help countless times before, always relished in the stretch and slight pinch, but on nights like tonight he wanted you to feel nothing but pleasure.

“Your hand,” he says, voice low and gruff, the lust in it unmistakable.

The lube is cold when he deposits a dollop of it in your waiting palm. The click of the cap and closing of the drawer are loud in the otherwise quiet room, only amplifying your anticipation as you heat the gel between your hands. His eyes never leave yours until your fingers wrap around his achingly hard cock, making a moan rumble through his chest as his eyelids flutter shut.

You stroke him languidly, squeezing and twisting just the way you know he likes, the way that makes him twitch in your grip as you kiss his shoulder reverently. It makes his heart ache with deep seated love, and he has to look up at the ceiling to blink away the tears that start to form from the intimate act and overwhelming emotions of finally being home, being with you.

Simon surges forward to kiss you, pressing his lips against yours so hard and passionately it nearly makes your head spin. He's already close from having grinded against the bed while licking your cunt, and your hands on him feel heavenly. So when he stops your movements and whispers that he won't last long, you tell him it's okay — because it is, because you're up there, dancing on the edge together with him. His earlier ministrations had made you sensitive to the touch and the bliss of Simon's cock sliding inside you for the first time in months already has you clinging to his form and your walls clenching around him.

His arms are hooked under yours, hands cradling the back of your head, your face pressed into the crook of his neck; like he's protecting you, shielding you from the world, keeping you safe from all of its horrors. He stays there for a moment, cock nestled all the way inside your welcoming warmth, his already near aching balls resting against your ass; both of you basking in the moment and the wonderful feeling of each other.

It's not until your knees dig a little into his sides, impatient, that Simon starts moving; slowly sliding out of you, only the tip notched happily inside, before pushing back in, making sure to go as deep as he can possibly get without hurting you with every roll of his hips. One of your hands burrows into his hair, threading your fingers through the soft locks to pet and reassure, and to grip when the pleasure overtakes. Your hips are canted just right so his every thrust hits perfectly against your G-spot, making you screw your eyes shut and cling to him a little tighter.

You know Simon gets off on getting you off, knows he loves hearing your pleasure loud and clear as your moans mingle with his. So you mumble encouragements and praise and directions into his heated skin — you tell him how good it feels, gasp loudly when his hips start snapping instead of rolling, tense in his grasp and press your knees tighter around him as you practically mewl with pleasure.

And Simon, to his credit, isn’t silent either. He’s breathing heavily, cursing every so often when you clench around his cock. “Touch yourself for me,” he manages to moan out, cock sawing in and out of your cunt faster and faster as he approaches his high. “Wanna feel you come apart.”

So you wedge your free hand in between your sweaty bodies, a feat in itself with how his entire torso is pressing down onto yours, and find your swollen clit. It takes only a few quick circles with your fingers and the orgasm he had dangled in front of you while fucking you open on his fingers comes rushing back full-force.

You don’t even have the time to give him a warning before you’re trembling and calling his name, toes curling and legs shaking. Simon’s thrusts grow sloppy and near frantic within a second, your fluttering pussy practically milking his cock as he loses himself in you, spilling inside until his spend is leaking around his length still buried deep within you.

The room is quiet except for your laboured breathing as you both try to catch your breaths, hearts beating hard and fast in tandem, your fingers in his hair curling around strands and nails softly scratching against his scalp. There’s a small wet spot next to your head on the pillow from where Simon had finally let the cathartic tears from before roll silently down his cheeks — he knows you’d never judge him for crying due to overwhelming emotions, so he doesn’t exactly hide it, but it’s not something he’s particularly used to flaunting. So he wipes at his eyes without a word, still keeping you tucked away against his shoulder, and lets your petting hands soothe him.

It takes you a near herculean effort to convince Simon to let you up so you can pee and clean up, even when all you want to do is just stay under him and trace invisible patterns on his flushed skin. He follows close behind you to the bathroom, a compromise, never letting go of your hand even when he turns around to offer you some privacy as you sit down on the toilet. Simon quickly wets a hand towel to swipe over his sensitive cock with his free hand, hissing slightly at the sensation of too much which makes you chuckle, before offering a clean one for you.

You cuddle back in bed afterwards; your back to Simon’s chest, legs intertwined, his arm curled around your middle. His nose is in your hair and you can feel every exhale on the back of your neck — you’ve never felt more safe or loved.

“I'm really glad you're back, Si.”

His hold on you tightens and a kiss is pressed to the top of your head.

“I'm glad to be back, love.”

--- CoD Masterlist

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mrsbarnesblog · 8 months ago

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I feel like when reader gets fed up with Rafe not making a move, she tries to go on a date with someone else and it makes him realize that he has to act if doesn’t want to be left with just “baby daddy” label. loved your story

masterlist ko-fi ao3

requests are open

summary: when you have a baby with your ex-friend with benefits, he realizes that he has to talk about your feelings if doesn't want to lose you (can be read as a standalone, but is part two of this fic)

word count: 1.1k.

warnings: ex fwb, baby daddy Rafe, he's really soft and cutesy (i can't help myself, sorry)

Raising a baby with you felt easy. It felt safe and stable because it seeming like you worked perfectly together, never having serious fights and always easily understanding each other. Rafe adored both of you and he was happier than he ever was, even if he was constantly tired from sleepless nights.

Every time Rafe looked at you holding your daughter, smiling and particularly shining in your post-pregnancy bliss, he felt his heart flattering. You were his. The mother of his daughter, his friend, his family, his girl.

Then, when you unexpectedly mentioned to him that someone had asked you out, things went south.

You both hated every second of what was likely your first serious argument, but you were unable to contain your emotions when the situation deeply hurt both of you.

“I don’t know what you want from me, Rafe! I don’t know what you expect from me when the only thing that I know for certain is that I am the mother of your child!” You screamed at him, blinking away your tears.

“Don’t say that. You know what I want from you, and I can’t let you go out on dates with some random dudes, Y/N. Like, you have to be joking. We just had a baby, for fuck’s sake!” His hands flew to his hair as he started walking back and forth in the middle of his living room.

“As far as I’m aware, I’m single, Rafe.” You said it bitterly, bringing your legs closer to your chest and wrapping your hands around them. You wanted to hide because it felt to heavy to be talking about it, especially when you never desired anything more than to be appreciated and loved by the man in front of you.

“So this means nothing to you?”

“It was not what I said.”

“You said you’re single.”

“Am I not?” You whispered. “You were horny and had a baby with me. Just admit it.”

You were looking at each other with emotions and unsaid feelings on the tips of your tongues. It hurt you to say it; it hurt you to realize how easy it was to end everything here and face the reality that you were no one to each other. Tears flooded your vision and you looked down, defeated.

“I’m sorry.” Rafe whispered back, as the panic started to settle in him. “I’m so so sorry, Y/N. It has never been my intention to make you feel this way, but I promise that you’re much more for me.” He came closer to you, kneeling in front of your shivering body. “Even if it was casual sex at that time, I would've never signed up for a baby with someone who I felt nothing for.”

His hands reached for your legs, setting them down on the floor and instead moving closer to you. Rafe touched your face, making you look at him through wet eyelashes and you noticed a longing, almost pleading, look in his eyes.

“I love you. I love you and our little girl, and I don’t want to live like this anymore. I want you. I need you because you’re my best girl—the prettiest, sexiest, most brilliant woman I’ve ever met. I was too dumb to not do it earlier, but I want to have it all with you. I want you both here all the time, with me. You are my family. ”

He left you completely speechless, making you sob harder and lean into his chest, leaving wet stains all over his shirt. You didn't know how you could live in denial for that long, but you realized how desperately you craved to hear these words. How desperately you tried to convince yourself to stick with what you had when the only thing you ever wanted was him.

“Sh-h, baby…” He soothed your hair, holding you closer and allowing you to let go of your emotions. Rafe hated how oblivious he was to your feeling this whole time. Seeing you break down hurt him more than he could imagine and he knew he would do anything to never see that look in your eyes again. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, mama. I love you.”

“I l-love you t-too.” You hiccuped, leaning back and wiping your face. Rafe’s eyes stayed on yours when he slowly traced with his thumb your slightly swollen bottom lip and then moved closer.

He kissed you slowly, passionately, gently biting your lip, as if he were claiming you again and you felt that familiar sparkle in your body that appeared whenever he was touching you so gently. You brought your hands to his shoulders to feel his body closer to yours and he obliged, slightly hovering over you.

Soft crying from the bassinet interrupted you, and before you could even begin to worry about your daughter, Rafe had already pulled away, but not before giving you that promising look and moving in her direction.

“Hi, pretty girl.” He cooed, taking her in his arms and lifting her up in the air. She looked so tiny compared to him and you felt another wave of tears coming in. “Sh-h, it’s okay. Are you hungry or did you just want someone to hold you, hm?” Rafe placed her on the crock of his arm and started swaying from side to side. Her cries slowly calmed down, as she was looking up at him with big blue eyes. “That’s what I thought.”

“You’re so natural with her, i’m kind of jealous.” You laughed, wiping the leftovers of your tears. Rafe smiled back at you and sat down near you on the couch, wrapping his free hand around your shoulders to bring you closer.

“Not as good as you. You’re an amazing mom. We love mommy so much, right, princess?” He tickled your daughter's belly and she giggled, looking between both of you happily. “I meant it when I said it, Y/N. I want you to move in. I want to have you both with me 24/7, because I cannot do it like this anymore.” Rafe almost begged, turning his head in your direction. Your eyes searched for his and the look that you saw there made your heart flutter.

The thing about Rafe was that he was bad at expressing his feelings, but his eyes always showed you what you wanted to know. And now, when there was nothing but pure love and admiration, you knew that it was true.

“Okay. I want it too.” You smiled, peacefully resting your head against Rafe’s shoulder, as the worry inside of you finally calmed down.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fic #rafe imagine #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x y/n

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gloomwitchwrites · 9 months ago

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Hi you beautiful person, I'd like to send in a request for the 1k Follower Celebration 😊 I'd leek to read about the CoD men and sllep positions with a chubby reader. I always imagine Price cuddles when I can't fall asleep, how his beard would tickle, how he'd stroke my hair aside to give me a forehead kiss and sternly tell me to fall asleep. Or maybe falling asleep on top of Soaps muscles and listening to his heartbeat, or watch Gaz do a face cleanse before snuggling. Or lying next to a stiff and unmoving Ghost just to wake up with him curled around me *sigh* T'is would be the dream.

Thanks so much, love ☺️

Oh, you absolute sweetheart, thank you so much! I love this prompt so much! And with a chubby reader? Yes! We need more representation in that regard. I hold all my weight in my hips, thighs, and butt, and it makes me so self-conscious all the time. Maybe that’s why I always dive into scenarios like your prompt and imagine being loved and appreciated for what I have. In a way, you’ve already answered the prompt a bit, but I will absolutely add to it. Thank you for sending this prompt in! I appreciate you so much!! <3

I did keep some of the descriptions vague so that readers of all shapes and sizes can see themselves snuggled up with any of the 141!

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

1k follower event rules

Word Count: 813

There are some suggestive themes in this, so, per that warning, MDNI

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // 1k follower event masterlist

John Price

John loves to cuddle. He loves touching you. He loves being close. Doesn’t matter if you can’t sleep or he can’t, John needs to be touching you. It’s almost an impulse to do so. The moment you or him slips under the sheets, John is reaching out, his large hands grasping, dragging you against him.

John will always be big spoon.

With you wrapped up in his arms, there is nothing sweeter. His beard his prone to scratching your skin but you don’t care. What matters is how he can make you feel. If you can’t sleep, John will do everything in his power to soothe you through gentle words, soft touches, and even softer kisses. There is only intimacy with no intention of initiating anything. He only wants you to be comfortable.

If John is struggling to sleep, all he needs is for you to curl up against him, and to run his hands over your body. He loves squeezing your thighs and hips, running his hands up and down your legs. He only wants his hands full of you, to know that you’re with him. It grounds him. Makes him calm.

That is how John likes to fall asleep. Upon waking, he might shift a bit, but he’s still touching you.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

More like Kyle “Skincare Routine” Garrick. This guy loves routine and he wants to do routine with you before bed. While a his and her bathroom sink setup is lovely, he prefers one sink and mirror just because he doesn’t want to be far from you. Face cleanse? Got it. Hydrating mask? Can do. Doesn’t matter as long as he does it with you.

Kyle also enjoys a shower before bed and will often pull you in with him just to have some intimacy. It’s not necessarily for sexual reasons, but to just spend a little extra time with you that he doesn’t always get during the day.

Where John is a full on cuddler, Kyle likes more of a snuggle, and prefers being little spoon. He loves feeling your cheek pressed to his back and your arms around him. Kyle is quick to hold your hand and kiss your knuckles before the two of you drift off.

John “Soap” MacTavish

Soap wants you as the blanket.

He doesn’t need the comforter, a weighted blanket, or any of the bedsheets. He only wants you draped over him at bedtime. Your warmth and body pressed against him is soothing.

Soap prefers it if you’re both naked during bed. Skin against skin is what he loves best. Again, it’s not always a sexual thing (although he totally takes advantage when he can) but an intimacy thing. He wants you almost on top of him, cheek pressed against his chest, to feel your heartbeat along with this. Soap wants to be able to rub your back and kiss the top of your head.

As much as it is for him, it is also for you. It provides a sense of safety and comfort. While the muscles can be a bit hard to lay on, Soap does have some softness in his chest and stomach. Yes, he is all muscle, but his body is built from years in the field. This isn’t a gym rat body. This is pure strength and protection. Even if you’re the blanket, there is something comforting about it.

However, by morning, the two of you are significantly shifted. Might still be snuggled up but likely no longer a blanket.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Ghost is a boulder. I truly believe this man is a stiff, unmoving board at bedtime. He gets into bed and is asleep almost immediately. Ghost is the kind of guy that could fall asleep anywhere and everywhere on command.

Ghost also as a habit of either going to bed before you or after you. It’s not habit more like it depends on the day he’s had. If he’s the one who is in bed first, this man is an unmoving rock. He also spreads out which makes attempting to move him even worse. So, you end up curling up around his unmoving form.

On the opposite side of this, when Ghost goes to bed after you’ve already fallen asleep, he does his best not to wake you. When he slides into bed beside you, he might brush your hair out of your face or admire you for a bit before settling in beside you.

However, in the mornings, Ghost is always curled around you, one arm draped over your waist and curled under your stomach to keep you snuggled against his body. You never know when he does that in the middle of the night, and Ghost never knows when he does it either. It just happens in his sleep, like his body craves you and simply needs to pressed close.

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving

@childofyuggoth @miaraei @coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666

@unhinged-reader-36 @pearljamislife @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath

@sapphichotmess @enfppuff @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82

@no-oneelsebutnsu @thewulf @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan

@beebeechaos @enarien @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666

@lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67

@contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg

@blackhawkfanatic @suhmie @tulipsun-flower @ghosts-hoe @jaggersinclair

@nomercyforthewarrior @dakotakazansky @talooolaaloolla @hantheconqueror @littlemisscriesherselftosleep

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salemrph · 3 months ago

Text

Show me I (Sylus x MC)

Summary: Sylus is driving you wild, and no matter how hard you try, nothing seems to ease the heat building inside you. After playing blackjack, you find yourself trapped in his control, where the line between teasing and desire disappears.

Character: MC x Sylus

Genre: explicit sexual content, provocative, soft

Pet names: Kitten, Sweetie, Love

Word count: 5,189 | Reading Time: 20 min | AO3

WARNINGS: mdni, fingering, biting, masturbation

Next - Show me II >>

This is my first explicit story. Hope you enjoy it.

A moan felt from your lips, is feels so good. Your body is heating up, you arch your back on the bed. Your hand is buried in the sheets. It's intoxicating—his scent lingers everywhere. In the silence of your room, your sighs fill the air. You can feel how wet your are. You hear his voice in your ear, resonating like an echo throughout your body.

You need more, more then what you're feeling now. One more finger slips inside you making you moan his name. You're sweating, you ajuste your position, flipping around, burying your nose in his shirt laying on your pillow. Again. There is the sweet spot.

"Please... Sylus" Only a thread of voice comes out of you, a prayer, begging.

His hands tracing imaginary patterns across your skin, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. You hear his voice, low and seductive, in your mind, his breath hot against your skin.

"That's it, sweetheart. Take it. I want you to moan my name until you can't take it any longer."

You can imagine how he would look at you, his eyes darkened with lust, his lips curling up in a knowing smirk. You can feel his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place as he guides your movements. The idea of his words sends a shivers down your spine.

How would his finger feels pressing inside of you, the weight of him bearing down on you, holding your nipple? His mouth on your skin, his lips against yours, his teeth scrapping across your skin, marking you as his.

You take your vibrator between your legs, you don't need the vibration tonight, the sensation of having something hard in you is enough. You started with a slow pace but you're so wet, so hungry for him that you quickly change to violent thrust, hitting you g-spot. How would his cock feel, pulsing, twitching? God... is he also so big as your toy or more?

"Kitten" His voice would sound, guttural and rough, as he would moan your name in pleasure.

Everything tight up, your mouth goes dry, your nipple harder than ever, you feel the orgasm reach the pick and you let the pleasure wash over you in release.

"Sylus..." you whisper one more time. The toys, your hand and sheet are cover in your fluids. "Fuck..."

How many time have you fuck yourself thinking about this man? Coming undone with your hands or your vibrator, leaving a mess in your bed—and in your heart. The scent of his shirt, stolen from his closet, clings to you like a guilty pleasure, making you feel like a stalker. When did you become this needy?

You want to get closer to him, but you can’t bring yourself to take the game beyond playful flirting. Whenever it feels like too much, you deflect, change the subject, or find an excuse to pull away. But it’s getting harder to resist. Night after night, he’s all you can think about.

You search for your panties, tossed somewhere on the bed in the haze of release. Still catching your breath, you rise and head to the bathroom, half-naked, to clean up the mess.

You step into the shower, hoping the warm water will help you settle down. The steam wraps around you as you stand under the stream, letting it run over your skin. Your body wants more. It craves something real, something that no amount of teasing thoughts or fantasies can satisfy. You lean your forehead against the cool tiles, trying to clear your mind, but it’s useless. Every time you close your eyes, it’s him—his voice, his touch, the way he’d look at you just before… You swallow hard, shaking your head, but the heat rising in your chest doesn’t fade.

Your body feels restless, it’s begging for more, and nothing you do is enough. The ache is real, almost frustrating. You feel ridiculous, standing here, wanting him like this, but the thought of him is all you can hold onto. And it’s driving you crazy.

The worst part? You’re staying at his place. Not just any place—his place. And you didn’t even have the decency to keep your restless thoughts in check. Instead, you gave in, right here in the guest room. You brought the vibrator just in case, but you didn't think you were going to use it.

Now, standing in the shower, the reality of what you’ve done crashes over you. The thought of being just a few doors away from him while you… God, what if he knew? What if he heard? You feel a flush creep up your neck, but it’s not from the hot water

What have I done? He would never come into my room without asking permission, would he?

No. Sylus was many things, but someone who crossed boundaries without permission? That... yeah, it his style. But still… you can’t shake the nagging doubt.

The image of his smirk flashes in your mind, and your stomach twists. If he knew, he wouldn’t just ignore it—he’d use it against you. Not cruelly, but in that way he has, turning everything into a game, making you stumble just to see if you’ll catch yourself.

You press your hands to your face, letting the water run over your fingertips. Stop overthinking. But it’s impossible when you’re in his space, surrounded by his presence, his scent, his everything.

You step out of the shower, the steam clinging to your skin as you wrap yourself in a towel. Padding softly to your bag, you pull out a fresh pair of everything—underwear, shorts, a loose t-shirt—and slip them on, the cool fabric a small comfort against your overheated thoughts.

The evidence of your restless night—the shirt you shamelessly swiped from his closet and the vibrator you couldn’t resist using—gets shoved deep into your bag. Out of sight, out of mind... or so you tell yourself.

You glance at the clock: 3 a.m. Perfect. Just enough time to stew in your self-inflicted insomnia.

Climbing back into bed, the sheets feel colder, the silence louder. Your mind refuses to settle, replaying every moment, every sound from earlier. You shift restlessly, willing sleep to take over, but it’s no use. Now you’re stuck, wide awake, staring at the ceiling and thinking of him. Of course.

You toss and turn, the sheets twisting uncomfortably around you. Frustration bubbles up as sleep evades you entirely. With a sigh, you sit up, grab a sweater from the back of a chair, and pull it on.

The house is creepily silent, the kind of quiet that feels heavy, pressing against your ears. You pause for a moment, listening for any signs of life. Has Sylus left? Is he in his room? You don’t hear a thing, and it doesn’t matter. Right now, you just need a breath of fresh air to clear your restless mind.

You wander aimlessly through the quiet hallways, the cool floor beneath your bare feet grounding you slightly. The thought of stepping outside without shoes makes you hesitate, so you continue pacing, hoping to find some semblance of calm.

The silence wraps around you like a blanket, but it’s quickly broken by a faint fluttering sound behind you. You freeze mid-step, a familiar presence prickling at the edge of your senses.

Not even two minutes have passed, and the crow is already following you. You turn your head slightly, catching the unmistakable glint of black feathers in the dim light. The bird perches silently on your shoulder.

"Really?" you mutter under your breath, crossing your arms. "Can’t a girl have a moment alone?"

Mephisto caw, of course, but you swear its head tilts just slightly, as if mocking your question.

"Fine..." You continue your way down the hall, the sense of restlessness grows within you, pushing you toward the one place that always offers some semblance of peace: the music room.

You reach the door, its heavy wood standing like a barrier between the silence of the house and the world you’re trying to escape. You push it open, stepping inside. The air is thick with the smell of aged wood and leather. The room feels different from the rest of the mansion—more alive, somehow. It’s Sylus’s private music library, a sanctuary filled with vintage records, all arranged with meticulous care.

The world slows down here, and you can breathe without the weight of questions pressing on your chest. You move closer to the shelves, your fingers grazing the edges of the records. Maybe you can find something to ease the tension, something to distract you from the chaos inside your heart.

Mephisto has perched himself on the arm of the chair nearby, you pull a record off the shelf at random. The cover is pretty without thinking too much, you slip the record onto the turntable, setting the needle in place. The faint crackle of the vinyl fills the air before smooth, cozy jazz begins to play, its mellow tones weaving a subtle warmth around the room. The sound wraps around you like a gentle hug.

You sink into the sofa, letting the smooth jazz fill the room and take the edge off your restless thoughts. The soft rhythm seeps into your chest, steady and comforting, grounding you in the moment. The warm glow of the room feels smaller, cozier, like a little bubble away from the world. For a second, it works. For a second, you let yourself breathe. But then your mind wanders, and the peace slips through your fingers.

How may moments you had with Sylus, where the tension between was unbearable? His finger moving softly under your chin forcing you to meet that piercing gaze of his. The other hand moving from your hip to your back.

The memory is enough to send a shiver through you, the same tightness blooming in your chest, the heat rising again. You whisper his name into the quiet, barely a sound, but it still feels too loud. Curling up on the couch, you press your knees to your chest, as if it’ll somehow contain the ache that’s spreading through you.

"I hope my name is the only one you pronounce like that, kitten."

You freeze at the sound of his voice, low and teasing, cutting through the music like a blade. Slowly, you look up, your pulse hammering in your chest. Sylus leans casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, his smirk sharper than ever. You sit up.

You feel your face heat up instantly. How long had he been standing there?

"I didn’t—" you start, but the words falter. What could you even say? Deny it? Explain it away?

Sylus steps into the room, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator closing in on its prey. "Relax," he says, his tone light but laced with that unmistakable edge. "I don’t mind being in your little head... especially if I’m keeping you awake."

Your heart skips as he stops a few steps away, looking down at you with that infuriating, unreadable expression.

"I... wasn't thinking about you" you mumble, your voice barely audible over the music.

"If you say so" he replies, his smirk deepening as he tilts his head.

Sylus closes the distance between you. He stops in front of you, his hand brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face. The touch is light, almost gentle, but it sends a jolt through your entire body.

"You look awfully tense," he murmurs, his voice dipping into a velvety softness. His fingers trail down, tracing the line of your jaw before lifting your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes.

The intensity in his gaze steals your breath, every teasing word now layered with something much heavier, much darker. He leans down, close enough that you can feel the faint warmth of his breath against your lips.

"Tell me, kitten," he whispers, his tone impossibly smooth, "what exactly were you thinking about when you said my name like that?"

Your heart pounds so hard you’re sure he can hear it. His other hand moves, settling on the armrest of the couch, caging you in without ever touching you fully. The air between you is thick, charged with an electric tension that has you struggling to find your voice.

"I..." The words catch in your throat. Sylus doesn’t wait. His lips curve into a slow, knowing smirk.

"How about we play a little game?" he says, sitting down next to you.

You look at him, confused. "If you win, you can ask me to do whatever you want..."

A shiver runs down your spine. Your mind wanders to what that "whatever" could mean, and the thought of his lips on yours or his hands roaming your body makes your cheeks flush and you panties wet. Fuck. Playing games with Sylus is dangerous. It’s like making a deal with the devil. He looks at you intently, his gaze unwavering, and you swallow hard. Curiosity killed the cat, but despite knowing better, you ask anyway.

"What if I lose?"

Sylus chuckles softly, his voice laced with amusement.

"Then you do whatever I want, sweetie" he replies, his smirk widening. You tense for a moment. "Like going to bed so you can finally get some sleep." Your eyes dart around the room, trying to decide if this is a good idea.

"What game?" you ask finally, your curiosity winning out.

"I let you choose" he says, his tone casual but his expression far from innocent. It doesn’t guarantee victory, but at least it’s a starting point.

"And...?"

"Deal"

Well, you just sold your soul. Now you need to pick something that gives you even a shred of a chance. Sylus is good at nearly everything. You don't feel like playing Kitty Cards right now. You sigh, racking your brain for options. Luck might be your best bet. If you can’t outskill him, maybe you can outplay him. You need to play dirty at this, if you want to win.

"Black Jack" you declare, a sly smile forming on your lips.

Sylus raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by your choice.

"As you wish," he says smoothly. Then, with an almost imperceptible glint in his eye, he adds, "I’ll call Luke and Kieran to deal for us."

It doesn’t take long before the table is set and the twins are in position, ready to play their role. Sylus, ever the gentleman when it suits him, guides you to your seat with a hand resting lightly on the small of your back.

You glance nervously at the cards and then at Sylus, who’s already settled in across from you, exuding his usual confidence. His eyes meet yours, and that devilish smirk reappears. "Ready, sweetie? Or are you already regretting this?"

"I've been born ready" you declare, exuding confidence as you sit down.

The rules are set: five rounds, with three wins needed to claim the prize. It feels fair, or at least as fair as any deal with Sylus could be.

The game begins, and each round feels like an eternity. Cards are dealt, your mind races, and every decision is accompanied by a bead of sweat forming on your forehead. Sylus, of course, looks completely unbothered, his smirk never faltering.

Despite your efforts—despite every ounce of strategy, luck, and sheer will—you lose.

Sylus leans back in his chair, arms crossed, his expression smug. "Well, kitten, I think we both know what that means."

As Sylus looks at the twins, they vanish without a word, leaving the room in eerie silence. He strides over to you with purpose, and before you can react, his hand grabs your arm.

"Wait—" you start, but the protest dies in your throat as Sylus effortlessly hoists you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing. You squirming against his hold.

He laughs, the sound deep and infuriatingly smug. He carries you through the halls, ignoring your attempts to wriggle free, until he reaches his room. The door shuts behind him with a soft click locking the room, he sets you down gently in the center of his bed.

"What are you doing?" you ask, your voice shaky. Sylus smirks as he steps back, his hands moving to his shirt.

"It is not obvious? Claiming my prize" Your eyes widen as he pulls the shirt over his head, revealing his perfectly sculpted abs. No matter how many times you've seen them, the sight still makes your brain short-circuit. You try to look away, your face heating. A moment later, the bed shifts as Sylus lies down beside you. You turn onto your side, giving him your back, putting distance. You can´t look at him, not right now, when you feel that your whole body is burning in desire.

"Why are you hiding, kitten?"

"I- I'm not" you stammer, your voice betraying you. Sylus chuckles, pulling you closer until your back is pressed against his chest. His arms wrap around you, strong and secure, and he buries his nose in the curve of your neck.

"Yes, you are" he murmurs, his voice vibrating through you.

You swallow hard, your pulse thundering in your ears. "J-Just tell me what I need to do," you manage, barely above a whisper.

"I want you to show me something" Sylus says, his voice low and dripping with intent.

You blink, confused, your mind racing to catch up. But before you can ask what he means, you feel it—his nose brushing along, the warmth of his breath ghosting over your skin. Then comes the slow, deliberate drag of his tongue, sending a shiver down your spine.

"I think" his tone laced with amusement and far darker, "a naughty kitten was calling for me during her... private session."

His words are a sharp contrast to the gentle press of his lips against your pulse, and it feels like the air has been sucked out of the room. Your entire body tenses, heat flooding your face as realization slams into you like a tidal wave. Oh god! He heard you. Of course, he did. You made a terrible mistake, letting yourself get lost in your desires, thinking you were alone.

"I don’t know what you mean" you stammer, your voice shaky, unconvincing even to your own ears.

Sylus laughs softly, the sound more dangerous than comforting. "You don’t? Maybe I can help you replay how you sounded..."

Before you can respond, his teeth graze your neck, sharp and deliberate, before biting down just enough to make you gasp. The sharp sensation sparks through your body, your heart pounding like a drum in your chest. Trapped in his hold, you feel completely at his mercy, and yet, every nerve in your body screams for more.

Sylus hums against your neck, the sound deep, amused, and entirely unhurried. "It’s still not enough" he murmured, his tone wickedly smooth, as if coaxing a confession from you.

You squirm in his grip. His teeth scrape against your skin, his grip tightening around you just enough to make your breath hitch. Your body betrays you, responding to the intoxicating mix of dominance and teasing. Before you can stop it, a small, high whimper escapes your lips.

Sylus stills for a moment, and then you feel his smirk against your neck. "There it is" he says softly, the satisfaction in his voice unmistakable. "Now... a deal is a deal. Show me what were you doing earlier." He press himself against you, you feel it. That's definitely not his phone.

Your face burns as you twist to look at him. "Were you spying on me?"

His smirk deepens, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh no, kitten. I’d never do such a thing." He leans closer. "I just wanted to make sure you were asleep and... I heard it through the door."

"How?" you demand, your embarrassment threatening to consume you.

He grins, sharp and taunting. "I have good hearing." he says, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Sylus shifts with deliberate ease, he maneuvers you onto your back, his body following closely. His arms cage you in, his legs bracketing yours, trapping you beneath him. Your jaw tightens as you glare at him, but it only seems to amuse him more. Sylus tilts his head, studying you like a predator does its prey.

"Don’t look so embarrassed" he says, his voice laced with mock sympathy. "You sounded... exquisite." You cover your face with your hands, groaning.

Sylus chuckles, his hand sliding down your arm to gently pull your hands away. His grip is firm but not forceful, his fingers brushing against your wrist as he brings your face back into view. He counters smoothly, leaning in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "Now, kitten... show me." He nips lightly at your earlobe, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. His other hand slides up your leg.

You mind is spinning, you've been wanting this for a long time, every night, every day you spend with him. And now that he's noticed you, that he's created the perfect scenario. You click your tongue, frustrated with yourself, hating the cowardice you feel.

"I'll... do it" Sylus moves away, he looks a bit surprised over the words, but then his smiles returns and his expression change to a mix lust and possessiveness.

"Mmm, good girl," he purrs. He kneels back, giving you space.

You move to the top of the bed, positioning yourself against the pillows, your body halfway between sitting and lying down. Sylus watches your every move intently. His eyes follow the curve of your body, taking in the sight of you slowly, unhurriedly, getting comfortable.

Your hands disappear beneath the waistband of your shorts, out of his view, you fix your eyes on him, meeting his gaze, your own filled with a mixture of nervousness and desire. He watches you intently, his eyes never leaving your face as your hand moves slowly. You never thought your first time with him would be like this—a voyeuristic experience. This wasn’t just about him seeing you—it was about you letting him see. And the power in that, the sheer intimacy of it, made your pulse race even faster.

Fuck it! I'm giving him the show of his life.

His breathing is heavier, deeper, as he watches your facial expressions, as he sees the pleasure cross your features. You moan, your breath becoming heavier, send a jolt straight through him. His intense gaze flickers to your other hand as it disappears beneath your shirt. His lips part slightly, and though he doesn’t say a word, you know he’s imagining exactly what you’re doing. His hunger is palpable, his eyes darker, his breathing heavier, but he stays rooted in place, letting you show him everything.

You can feel the need growing within you, a burning desire that begs to be satisfied. You slide your hand down further, your finger slipping beneath the fabric of your panties seeking for relief. You're so goddamn wet. As you arch your back, your eyes closing momentarily, Sylus groans lowly. You increase the pace, your breath coming in quick, sharp gasps as you work yourself closer and closer to the edge.

As you get lost briefly in the pleasure, you forget for a moment that he is there, watching you with a hot, possessive gaze.

His body tenses and tremors as he tries to deal with the erection straining against his slacks. The sound of your whimpers is making him lose everything, he wants you, wants to touch you, to taste you, to possess you utterly. He can smell your arousal, his body coiled like a panther waiting to pounce. But he resists the urge instead, Sylus leans forward, moving slowly next to you, his face is now just a breath away from yours. His perfume surrounds you, filling your nose, you want him so bad. The desire burning in your stomach is even stronger now than it was when you were touching yourself just hours ago.

"Come for me," he whispers, his voice a low, silken murmur.

"Sylus..." You can't help but say his name. You don't want this moment to end—you don't want to come. Staying like this, feels so damn right it consumes you.

"Come for me," he repeats. "Let go... I want to see you come undone."

You're so close, so close to tipping over the edge, and he's there, waiting, watching.

"I don't know if I can..." you whine, your voice trembling with the effort of holding back.

"May I help you?" his voice low and seductive.

At this point, your body is burning with need, every nerve begging for him. You nod, unable to resist the pull anymore. Sylus tilts your chin toward him, his lips crashing onto yours in a deep, messy kiss that makes you feel dizzy with desire. A desperate moan slips from your lips as his kiss intensifies. Every movement, every brush of his tongue, sends waves of pleasure coursing through you. Sylus's kiss is all-consuming. You abandon what you were doing, your hands going to his shoulders, holding on to him tightly.

He breaks the kiss, his breath hot on your skin as he moves down to your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin.

He move you effortlessly, sitting you between his legs, your back resting against his bare chest. With quick, practiced movements, he pulls down your shorts and underwear, you lift your hips slightly to help. His hand spreads your legs and you give him full access to your body.

The touch of his hands against your skin, as they run up your legs, leaves a trail of fire in its wake. He pauses, resting on your inner thighs, gently rubbing and squeezing the sensitive flesh. He kisses your shoulder after that his lips leaves open-mouthed kisses and bites on your neck.

"Sylus... please" you whine.

He groans in response, his body tensing against yours. He can feel the pleading in your voice, the need that mirrors his own. You take his hand, guiding it up to your wetness, wanting, no, needing him to touch you, to give you what you desire so badly since you know him.

"So needy, aren't we?" he growls into your ear.

He teases you, moving around your opening, his touch light and almost taunting. Then, one finger finds your warmth, and you gasp aloud at the sensation. "So ready for me" his voice low and sultry. His finger moves in a slow, circular motion, building the tension, driving you insane. You move your hips against his hand, trying to get more contact.

"You're so eager" his free hand coming up to grip your hip, holding you in place. He speeds up the motion adding pressure and friction. "I guess you can take another finger" Without waiting for an answer, a second finger is added, stretching you further and eliciting a gasp of both pain and pleasure. You let your head fall back on his shoulder. Opening more of your legs.

"D- Don't stop"

His finger curls inside you, deliberate and skilled, seeking out that sweet spot that leaves you breathless. When he finds it, a sharp wave of pleasure courses through you, stronger than anything you’d ever imagined. Your body arches involuntarily, pressing into his touch as a moan slips out of you.

"There it's" he purrs.

Each movement of his hand is precise, teasing you closer and closer to the edge without letting you fall. His thumb brushes over your clit in a perfect rhythm, amplifying the sensation until you’re gasping for air.

"Sylus..." you whimper, unable to form a coherent thought beyond the exquisite feeling of him inside you, even if it’s just his finger. You hold on to his legs, your fingers sinking into the fabric of his pants as you try to hold on.

"That's it" he murmurs, his voice thick with hunger. "Claw at me. Mark me."

When he presses against that favourite spot again, your entire body tenses, a sharp cry escaping you.

"S- Sylus... I'm... close..." your words are a pleading gasp, your body trembling as you teeter on the edge.

He smirks, his pace unwavering, his dark red eyes locked onto your face. He feels you tightening around his fingers, senses the way your body is begging for release.

"Be a good girl," he growls, low and commanding, "and come on my hand."

You can feel the pressure building within you, the tension ratcheting higher and higher. Every touch, every whisper from Sylus, fuels the fire consuming you. You're so close now, teetering on the edge, at this point you're just whimpers. His other hand slides beneath your shirt, his fingers expertly teasing and pinching your nipple, sending sharp jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

He whispers in your ear, his voice a low, sultry command. "Let go, love. Come for me."

Your mouth goes dry as you try to catch up your breath, every nerve of your body alight with the intensity of the moment. You can barely breathe, your chest heaving as you try to cling to some semblance of control. But his voice, paired with the relentless rhythm of his fingers and the possessive way his body surrounds yours, is too much.

A broken cry tears from your throat as the tension finally snaps. Your body shuddering uncontrollably as waves of pleasure crash over you, leaving you trembling and undone. Sylus keeps his hand on you, his fingers still inside, coaxing every last ripple of your release.

When your breathing begins to steady, he finally withdraws his fingers, leaving you with a sharp pang of emptiness that only deepens the need swirling in your chest. His face is buried in your neck, his breath hot on your skin.

"That was the most fucking cute whimper I've ever heard"

Before you can even think of a reply, Sylus turns you in his grip, his lips crashing against yours. The kiss is fierce and consuming, all teeth and passion, his possessiveness pouring out in every movement. His hand tangles in your hair as he claims you completely, his body pressing into yours as if he can’t bear to be apart for even a moment.

The fabric of your shirt became a frustrating barrier to his touch, his impatient evident in the way his fingers trace along it, desperate to feel your skin "I want you" he growls into your skin, his voice rough with need.

"I think you had claim your prize already" you manage to say, voice shaky.

Sylus laughs, the sound dark and knowing. "Technically, you didn’t fulfill your part of the deal. So…" he says, the amusement clear in his tone. You feel him press his hard dick against your back, making your body heat up again. His hands tighten around your waist as he looks down at you with that trademark smirk. "...I want you instead."

Next Part >

#love and deepspace #sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lads #sylus love and deepspace #lnds sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #lads x reader #sylus smut #love and deepspace smut #sylus fanfiction #sylus x y/n #sylus x mc #l&ds sylus #sylus fic

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writerpeach · 1 month ago

Text

Turnabout

IVE An Yujin x m!reader

16k words

Part 8 of IVED Vanilla Latte

---

Read on AO3

"Such a bed hog, Jang Wonyoung," Yujin grumbles as she peels the blankets back, careful not to disturb when she drapes it over you both and snuggles up against your chest. You share the complaint—it's a wonder how such a petite little thing can occupy so much space.

"Always the brat that gets what she wants, I guess," you mutter with a sleepy smile, wrapping an arm around Yujin's back as the realization sets in that you're awake.

"Maybe that's the problem. We spoil her too much—fucking cums three times on daddy's fat cock and still steals all the covers."

Can’t exactly argue with that either. Yujin’s already energetic enough to trace circles into your bare chest, while Wonyoung is still in deep slumber, curled up peacefully right by your side. It’s well into the morning, but winter break means late nights and later mornings, plenty of time to sleep in and do absolutely nothing.

And if that sleep comes with these two tangled up all over you in this spacious bed, cuddled nice and tight under the covers, then there's really not a single thing to complain about.

“Well, good morning, daddy," Yujin says, a bit hoarse, sleepiness still present when she plants a kiss right on your lips.

"Morning, Yudolph," you reply, making Yujin giggle out instantly when her mouth reaches your neck. She nibbles gently, slow but steady, kissing her way across your exposed skin. And god, how she manages to look so fucking beautiful in the morning is beyond your comprehension. Even bare-faced, Yujin looks effortlessly gorgeous.

Wonyoung is the real sleeper amongst the three of you, even after Yujin kisses her so gently on the forehead to try and wake her up, still out like a light. That doesn't seem to matter, because she takes advantage, still showering you in attention—kisses on your neck that become a bit aggressive, a little more nibbling, a little sucking, teeth grazing against your skin until you can feel the ache where her mark is.

"A little needy this morning, are we?"

Yujin doesn't respond at first, too lost in what she's doing to hear your words as her hands wander a bit south, feeling how your boxers strain around your morning hardness.

"It's not like you can control yourself either," Yujin says, a smirk on her face that pairs with her giggles as a hand slides between your legs to feel your length, palm pressed over it. The warm touch alone has you twitching inside your boxers, groaning under your breath at the sensation. Her hot breath escapes, a tease as she kisses back up to your ear. "Let me take care of this for you—not like our princess will be up for a while."

Tempting, for sure, but you can't give in just yet. Instead, you give a little slap to her tight, plump ass that catches her off-guard, gasping louder than expected.

"Not yet. Need some coffee first."

The look that you get in return is every bit offended at being denied, Yujin with this adorable little pout that's so rare to see her sporting, cheeks all puffed out, such cuteness that nearly makes you reconsider. Yet, somehow, you hold strong and toss your side of the sheets right off, standing up to head towards the bathroom to wash up.

Following like a lost puppy, Yujin trails after you, kissing you from behind like she thinks it'll make you change your mind. She's nowhere near subtle enough about her intentions, arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close as she pecks her way along your shoulders and upper back.

"But daddy—" Yujin whines, continuing her little display of affection as she attempts to bribe you with another plethora of kisses all over your neck, refusing to let you slip away. The bathroom mirror is large enough to let you observe the cute sight of her holding on, peppering wherever she can with those soft, delectable lips.

But you silence any further protest when turning around to press your lips to hers, a tender kiss that lasts for longer than she deserves.

"Coffee," you repeat, and this time she doesn't question.

From the moment you pour coffee beans to grind to the second it starts brewing, Yujin is right behind you, hardly separating from you for even a breath. Not that you ever would mind the company. Nor how little of her is covered up, this silky pink robe she managed to slip on the way, mostly unbuttoned, breasts spilling out, dark underwear on full display as well as those deadly hips paired with that amazing ass.

"You know, coffee takes a long time," Yujin murmurs, nuzzling her face up against the crook of your neck.

"That's what makes it good, though," you respond, not falling for those cute little antics. But still, she feels impossible to resist, especially when her hand wanders along your abdomen, no longer subtle when she reaches between your legs to cup a nice handful of your bulge through your boxers.

"We have time..." Yujin sighs, her hot breath lingering around your neck when she slides into the fabric of your underwear to get a better grip around you. The pressure is just enough, fingers wrapped tight, slow strokes from base to tip that coax you into full erection. "All the time in the world, don't we, daddy?"

"Spoiled brat," you say, but can hardly let out little else when those lips latch on your neck, and a hand glides up and down your sensitive, throbbing shaft.

"It's not spoiling me if you enjoy it too, right? So why won't you play with me a bit, daddy?" she questions, guiding you further into her spell, slipping out of your boxers so she can turn you around and continue to give her full, undivided attention. There's only so long until the temptation overtakes you, sweetening the pot by unbuttoning her robe, no hesitation to slide it off her shoulders, exposing her devilish body with ease. The soft bounce of those tits is practically hypnotic, and her pretty nipples perk up before your very eyes.

One more deep, heavy kiss has the answer already coming out of your mouth, cupping Yujin's perfect ass into each of your hands and lifting her right off her feet. Because how can anyone ever say no to a sight like this in front of them?

She’s more than happy to cling to you, arms looped behind your shoulders, those heavenly thighs wrapped so tightly around your waist as you carry her the short distance onto the kitchen counter, right next to the coffee machine.

"Fine, you win. Impatient little slut,” you manage out between hot, heavy kisses. Fuck the coffee and fuck her for looking this irresistible so early. You're not sure who the real needy one is here—Yujin for seducing you so easily, or you for falling for it so fast.

There’s never an angel on your shoulder when she’s around—only a devil convincing you to go with whatever the hell she demands.

"Don't act like you can ever resist me," Yujin continues, legs so tight around your waist to prove that point. It's only when you get your fingertips into those panties and tug them down, trying to maneuver them past her thighs, does she have to let go for a split second, before returning herself to you the moment they're out of your way.

"Never could, never will." With her pussy exposed and dripping wet for you, it's only natural to slide a finger or two, the warmth and ease you can glide into her tells plenty, how she’s ready for the real thing. It's her who frees your aching cock next as she moves the fabric of your underwear down enough to nudge your shaft at her entrance, slowly pumping up and down.

“So fucking spoiled…”

“Me, or you?” she laughs, scooting herself to the very edge so she can align you with her wet slit. The rest is up to you—and you don’t dare disappoint, the swollen head of your cock parting her folds, that velvety wet heat welcoming you right in one fluid stroke of your hips.

“Fuck—“

That feeling—god, the instant relief you get with that first thrust, your cock fitting so well inside Yujin as she stretches around you, there’s nothing like it. No matter how many times you've been inside her, the wet tightness of her cunt gives instant gratification, even when she’s desperately trying to get you to move by locking her legs so tight, heels pressing into your back.

"Tight little slut, always so needy for me," you growl, only to be met with that devious smile from Yujin, not arguing any of it.

She's so wet, so warm, slick arousal covering your shaft whenever you enter her with ease, defiling the kitchen counter like you have so many times before. And those eyes, the way they meet yours whenever you drive your hips, that fucking look of pure lust just makes you go all in, wanting more of that desperation that she can't hide, like she can't handle how good it feels.

“Can you really blame me? When you stretch me out like this? Oh, daddy's so—so, oh fuck," Yujin struggles to say, bare ass on the cold countertop as you work your shaft so deep in, keeping yourself buried. It's not that hard to shut her up like this, feel how she tightens from the sudden impact of your bodies crashing, how she sighs heavily and throws her head back when you impale that greedy little hole again.

"So, what? Come on, tell me, baby—" you taunt, slamming in again before slowing to a stop just as she's about to speak, getting a frustrated groan when you refuse to start moving again, not letting her take any control over this.

"P-please, so fuck—so, so fucking deep inside my pussy, daddy, right up into my guts, so—god," Yujin cuts off once again when you pull out and drive into her tight, slippery depths. “Ruin me, make me forget my name, fuck, your cock is so good—“

Her legs tighten around you as the next plunge hits just right, a gasp flying right out when that warm cunt swallows every inch back in, begging for more. You can see every little reaction on her blissed-out features when you pick up the pace, hear the sweet sounds of Yujin's desperate moans ringing throughout the kitchen.

“So fucking tight, god, Yujin, can barely fit this fucking cock in your pussy,” you grunt, watching her try to form a coherent thought while you plow her so deep. She’s moaning so shamelessly, right next to the coffee, spread out so lewdly across the countertop.

"Give it to me, daddy, harder—" Yujin begs, and doesn't need to explain the next sentence, fingers digging into the back of your neck, bringing both of your faces closer and kissing you between her moans. She's relentless in the way she squeezes your cock, so tight and warm with every smack of your body against hers, hot flesh on hot flesh loud and unmistakable in the otherwise silent room. "Fucking use me like the little cumslut I am, fill me up—god, daddy, need your hot load, drain those heavy fucking balls in me."

Every bit of her pussy squeezes tightly around your length when you draw back, leaving just your swollen tip sheathed inside before thrusting right back into her, repeating that same motion that gets all these desperate moans out of her lips.

“That what you want? To dump a load in your tight cunt like I did with Wonyoung when you were gone?"

That only riles her up even more, that jealousy building, legs hugging tighter like she has no plans to let you out of her grasp. But that’s what gets her wetter, lips claiming your own before pulling off and giving full access to the side of her neck, urging you to dive right in. That’s what you do, mouth finding that delicious bare skin, kissing, licking away, grazing teeth into the sensitive area. Not gentle at all when you begin to suck hard until Yujin whimpers, hard enough you're certain to leave behind marks, the kind that'll stay visible for days and annoy Wonyoung.

“Daddy—“

Yujin tries to return the favor when she clings even tighter, nails leaving scratches down your back as you put every bit of strength in your hips, soaking yourself in her juices when your shaft makes such a mess of her glistening cunt.

"Love when you fuck me like this, when you use me like you can't control yourself," Yujin barely manages, limbs so tangled around your entire body that it keeps you pulled in, wanting you even deeper with each thrust. You hear the strain in her voice, almost huskier, heavy and thick with arousal, your hips sparing no energy.

"My pretty little fuckdoll, is that what you are? This perfect cunt always begging to milk my cock?”

“Y-yes, daddy, just a warm, wet hole for you to dump your heavy load in—“ She's so unbelievably tight with each thrust that sinks all the way into that wonderful, wet heat. Buried balls deep, Yujin squeezes the absolute life out of your cock as you plunge right in over and over. This isn't so much fucking her as using her body, just like she craves, selfishly driving into her without letting up for a second, bodies a sweaty mess as you keep your lips on her.

"Getting close, make me cum on that cock, come on," Yujin pleads, unable to take much more as you pummel her pussy, slamming your whole weight into her with each pump. "Make me cum daddy, fuck, that's it, use me just like that—"

You don't need any more convincing to not hold anything back, cupping her face in your hands and sealing those lovely moans with your mouth as you pound her aching cunt. Nothing can stop the sheer ecstasy on her face when you're railing her like this, driving yourself into her body so hard into the counter that everything not nailed down bounces around from the impact.

"Gonna cum on that cock, gonna cum so fucking hard," Yujin says with a shudder, locking herself so around your body that there’s no chance of escape, eyes barely able to stay open, toes curling and back arching off the counter. The coffee's done brewing, long forgotten and ignored, but it can't possibly compare to how hot Yujin feels in comparison, so tight and drenched with your hard cock sliding so perfectly inside. She's getting even tighter, nails clawing into your back once again—even when your own rough thrusts don't show an ounce of mercy, these violent snaps of your hips never falter for an instant.

“Then cum on this cock you greedy little slut—“

Yujin clamps tight, and the sight alone sends you spiraling—the way her tits are bouncing, a thin layer of sweat covering every bit of her body, cheeks flushed and hair becoming a hot mess, your unrelenting onslaught never losing an ounce of momentum. Then she's cumming so hard, squirming in your arms, mouth hanging open with a final desperate sound when it hits and her face contorts in pleasure, soaked cunt contracting over and over as you pry out a heavy, overwhelming climax.

"D-daddy! Fuck!"

You could watch her gorgeous face like this forever, how her body reacts, every sound she makes, every detail etched into your memory when her juices gush out and soak around your balls, that orgasm hitting so hard, eyes rolling back. She's shaking violently by the end of it, borderline painfully tight around your cock with her face buried in the crook of your neck as she struggles to regain her breath, clutching to you like a lifeline.

“Love making you cum like that, Yujinnie, love when you make a mess all over me,” you say when Yujin rides it all out to completion, gasping and sighing in between trying to catch her breath. She's nothing but spent when the aftershocks lose steam, nothing but an exhausted mess all tangled up in your arms.

Absolutely gorgeous that look on her face is, overwhelmed and cheeks still reddened, so lost in bliss, so relaxed when you gently caress her messy hair out of her eyes.

"Your turn, daddy," Yujin mutters, so out of breath when she crashes lips against yours with a deep, heavy kiss that’s all saliva and tongue. You're already on edge as is, the pressure between your legs ready to burst at any moment as your body goes into full overdrive. "Isn't that what you need right now? Isn't that what you needed the whole time when I woke you up? A nice, thick load in my tight little cunt? Please, wanna feel it drip all out of me…"

And that's what gets your hips moving like no tomorrow—this last little burst of energy when Yujin urges you on, whispers those lewd words of encouragement. It's when she kisses up the side of your cheek, nips your ear, runs a hand over your chest and plays with a nipple that your willpower cracks, slowly pulling out of her to drive right back in that much faster, pounding her tight little cunt without remorse.

"You're so fucking close aren't you, daddy? Need you to unload, need you to fucking breed me. Can feel you fucking throbbing—"

Yujin’s voice right in your ear, it's everything you need: her desperate cries for your cum, her frantic moans, begging and pleading for it, that's what tips you right over the edge. There's no stopping this. No stopping the way you can't help but fuck her balls fucking deep over and over again, feeling just how tight Yujin clenches around your cock, that constant whine of 'daddy' becoming your undoing.

That flimsy string of self-restraint snaps, one final deep plunge as her walls suffocate your cock, and you grab two handfuls of her plump ass to hold her in place as you unload, a torrent of cum flooding deep inside, thick, white hot seed erupting into Yujin, spreading this satisfying warmth into her welcoming cunt.

Her face, Yujin's pretty fucking face, it's all you can look at when you explode, draining your heavy balls inside her pussy, everything emptied right out. She holds you through it, keeping herself locked in place as your dick pulses and spurts without pause, all that built up pressure emptied into her, not a chance for any to spill out.

"That's it, daddy," Yujin pleads, planting sweet kisses all down the side of your jaw, tracing her tongue across your ear, shuddering when the rest of your load empties inside her. "Fucking breed me, god—all of it, fuck it all deep in me, please—"

The last couple spurts have you twitching violently, right up to the very end, both of your bodies dripping in sweat. Even with Yujin clinging to you so tight, those long legs locked around your waist while her cunt wrings every last drop, you stay buried inside, savoring just how hot and wet she feels.

"Fuck, god, baby—came so fucking much in you," you manage to utter. letting yourself collapse onto Yujin's sweaty, sticky body. The whole time she strokes your hair, all while being filled to the brim with your thick seed, locked together on this little kitchen counter with no interest in moving

“Daddy always does. Always gives me everything I want. Feels so good inside me, made this pussy so fucking full," Yujin says, resting her head on you, planting one more kiss on your shoulder before getting a good squeeze on your ass.

"That's what you like, right? To get your little pussy all full and messy with cum? See it spilling out, knowing that I filled you, that you made me cum that hard—“ Yujin gives this small nod, and your sensitive cock refuses to leave that sticky warmth you've sunk deep into. Not that she would ever let you, even while her cunt threatens to overflow all over the kitchen counter.

You just can't get enough of the taste of Yujin when you latch your lips upon her sweaty neck again, leaving behind a trail of tired kisses, licking whatever runs down her hot skin, craving more. And while you both bask in the afterglow, panting heavily, hardly able to catch a moment of recovery, there's the coffee, beckoning, a waft of hot steam that goes ignored this entire time.

There's a certain look on Yujin's face once you take a break from lapping up her salty sweat and manage to pull away—a satisfied smile when she untangles her limbs, inviting herself off the counter as your length slowly slips out. Immediately, your cum trickles right out the moment she stands, thighs parting, a messy white trail dripping all the way down, practically a work of art.

"Look at that, love seeing how much you filled me," Yujin says and smirks, hand shooting right between her legs and sliding a finger right inside, cum leaking out even faster.

"So do I, Yujinnie, love seeing how much cum your pretty little cunt takes. Never looks as good as when it's leaking out."

Yujin gets those lips on you once again, sharing a long, lingering kiss that leaves your head spinning, hand gripping your sensitive cock as if there’s anything left to drain. "And look at that—coffee's all ready."

As if you still care about that right now, when Yujin is right there, standing so proud with cum leaking down her thighs, a sweaty, gorgeous mess. "Forget the coffee. Rather have you instead. Every morning."

"Oh, am I better than the coffee, daddy?" Yujin teases, nudging her naked frame so close.

"Always are."

Falling into one more embrace, the smell of hot coffee right next to you, you can tell you're not in the room alone anymore—

It's Wonyoung's perfume that hits your senses first, her presence known immediately when her heels clack across the floor. As usual, so unfazed by anything as she grabs a travel mug, pouring herself some coffee into it, cream and sugar following after.

"Oh, good morning. Plenty of coffee left, I see," Wonyoung says, voice so pleasant, warm and bubbly, ignoring everything that she sees happening right before her eyes. There’s silence; neither you nor Yujin say anything in reply, only watching her strut around the kitchen as she grabs a bagel, a fork, and some cream cheese from the fridge.

And just like that she's out of the kitchen, heading straight back down the hall, not a thing in the world able to take away her cheerfulness right now. "Gonna head out shopping for a few hours—be back later!"

It's rather unusual for Wonyoung not to have anything else to say, not even a single complaint about Yujin's monopolizing of you. Though it's probably best not to question it, especially if it means you get this place all to yourself with no distractions. Nothing to hold you back from indulging on Yujin's absolutely sinful body a little more.

"So—" you start off, almost breaking into a laugh at the very ridiculousness of it all.

"Shower," Yujin suddenly answers before the question is even fully asked, grabbing your hand and pulling you away from the counter, the mess on the tile floor long forgotten for now. "You're going to fuck me in the shower. And then after that—“

You never get the chance to hear the rest, Yujin not one for finishing her thoughts, looking so good when she walks off like this, all naked, hips swaying, ass jiggling with each step and legs going on for miles, demanding your attention as she leads the way to the bathroom.

Yeah, maybe a shower sounds great.

✦ ✦

Once hot water hits your back, you've got Yujin pinned up against the tiles of the shower wall, muscles moving almost on instinct. Your body knows the routine, always going back for more even after draining a thick, heavy load inside this girl.

Then the shower is all hers, that sexy back to you as you shove two fingers inside, curled in just the right way that hits every spot, making her cum on your digits again and again and again. No remorse, not even when Yujin begs for mercy, barely able to keep herself standing. She's not used to being on this side of overstimulation—it's always the other way around, but the cries that escape sound so perfect, legs shaking violently when she's all spent and worn out, a sticky mess.

Two more orgasms later, you're shampooing her long hair and rubbing some of her fancy body wash all over those long legs that you already miss wrapped around you.

It's this nice, calm moment when you've gotten her so clean and relaxed, nothing out of her mouth but a reward of sweet little kisses, giggling and laughing while she's busy washing out the shampoo. Like you've somehow tamed the brat out of her—for now.

By the time you're finished with her, all toweled off and fresh, there are no complaints when Yujin crawls in bed next to you, wrapping herself up right in your arms again.

"Nice to have daddy to myself every now and then. Love when you take care of me and spoil me," she says, shifting close. You know the drill, wrapping an arm around her bare back, tracing fingers down her spine before they glide through her tangled locks as her lips stay pulled into that ever-permanent smile.

"Sometimes it's nice when I don't need to share..." you say, trailing off with a sudden kiss on her lips, the kind that earns a giggle once Yujin is finally done nuzzling up to your neck, taking in your scent that still lingers.

"Think I should spoil daddy some more today. Made me cum so many times in the shower, even when I thought I couldn't take anymore."

"Learned from the best, didn't I?"

Yujin gives the cutest grin at that. "What does daddy want, then? Want me to suck you off? Stroke your cock, milk another huge load? "

"Yeah, all of that sounds good," you answer, pushing yourself up and settling back against the pillows. Yujin's between your legs not even a second after that, flat on her stomach, legs behind her and feet dangling in the air. She's dressed only in this purple little thong, almost naked and perfect as her long hair falls in such a way over her bare, smooth back, eyeing your cock with this giddy grin that can't possibly be wiped away.

"Whatever daddy wants, daddy gets…” Yujin says, and she always makes good on her promises to spoil you. She gets right to work as she caresses your thighs with those magical hands, running them up and down, getting all the blood flowing again.

Funny enough how she says that, like this isn't also for her, isn't something she needs as much as you. The look of excitement on Yujin’s face, when she grabs onto your shaft, gets you hard just from that alone. All it takes is that simple graze, fingers dancing along every bit of you before you've stiffened up again for her.

"Daddy's big, thick cock—filling my mouth," Yujin mumbles out, drool already forming at the corners of her mouth when she rubs your cock head against her soft lips, kissing it like she can't help herself anymore. You lean back, head in the pile of pillows while she gets comfortable, her ass pointing right into the air, barely covered by this pathetic piece of fabric. She's in utter bliss before even starting, the soles of her feet rubbing against each other, like she's more excited about sucking you off than you are.

Not a moment wasted. A little tease with her tongue as it glides along your length, slicking it all up, before stopping right at the sensitive underside where she's learned your weakness. There's no hiding the way you moan and twitch, your breath hitching every time her tongue laps over the same area, cupping your balls while she flicks repeatedly.

"So sensitive, even after you came in me," Yujin says, her tongue exploring all the way down to your balls, rolling them around before pressing her lips to kiss them. She's too good at knowing just where to pay extra attention to, where to lick and tease and have you melting into the sheets as her tongue flicks back against the very tip.

There's not a thing you can do about the moan that leaves you while Yujin strokes your whole length, spitting onto your tip again and again, spreading her wet saliva all around. And then she parts those lips, envelops the head of your cock right into the warmth of her mouth, swallowing you whole with no warning.

"Shit, Yujin—god, fuck," you grunt out when her cheeks hollow, lips sealed so tight and bobbing her head up and down so sinfully from the very beginning. Those lips suck and slurp as they slide down the entirety of your shaft, holding for a moment before pushing right back up, tongue lavishing the whole way. She stares so intensely the whole time, this magical eye contact as she takes in every inch, taking you far into the depths of her throat like it's not even the slightest challenge.

"Daddy tastes so good, especially when it's all the way down my throat," Yujin says, pulling away just so she can pepper kisses down your shaft, her hot breath hitting every bit of your saliva-soaked dick.

Her lips press into the side, following it all the way down your length with one big, wet kiss when she teases until the very bottom. No wasted movements, she takes you back inside her mouth right after, a loud, heavy slurp while she plays with your balls, driving every ounce of pleasure possible out of you when her lips travel back down.

"You're gonna be the fucking end of me, I swear—" you moan out as Yujin continues to get deep and swallow every inch, her nails grazing across your thighs, using them for leverage while her head bobs with no sign of letting up. She's absolutely shameless with how messy she gets, that lewd sound of your cock going into her throat so prominent, spit covering the entire length as her pace speeds up.

It's too good when she picks things up—Yujin knows exactly where you're weak, just how to push your limits without taking things too far when every movement and slide of her lips has you groaning so desperately.

Then her hands pin your thighs right against the mattress, keeping you from thrusting when the speed quickens even more. Yujin gurgles on your length, humming happily with such pride, devouring your whole cock right to the back of her throat. She goes harder than ever with a rough push all the way down and holding herself there for a moment before working back up, messy spit and loud gags leaving her mouth as she pulls back, a satisfied expression all over her.

"Love choking on daddy's big cock," Yujin says, an eager grin before diving straight back down.

The feeling is mutual, because fuck—all of that feels so good, lips slurping up and down while your heavy cock fills her throat completely. She's fucking relentless, these exaggerated gags in between breaths when she takes in your full length over and over again, switching it up by sucking so gently on your swollen cockhead, using only her lips to push it even further down.

And then it’s an endless loop, that warm, wet tongue that travels all the way down to the base, tracing every vein to get these helpless moans out of you. There's no mercy given, no respite when you're throbbing like crazy, trying your absolute best to not shove her pretty face straight into your crotch. The only alternative is to grab fistfuls of the sheets instead, shutting your eyes for a fleeting moment.

"Nuh-uh," Yujin suddenly says over your sloppy cock, pulling you out of her mouth with a loud, lewd pop, spit glistening the whole length of your shaft as she strokes, a small string falling right off her chin. "Eyes open, daddy."

She's not a woman you want to deny, especially when she's looking so hungry between your legs, lips on your heavy balls and sucking with so much desire. You don't know whether you'll survive this—there's a certain determination on Yujin's face, her tongue lapping at your sack while a hand continues jerking you off, not neglecting any part.

"Fuck, Yujin—fucking love your mouth," you groan, the sight in front of you becoming too much to handle.

And even when she's far too skilled to bring you over the edge with these intense, wet slurps that coat your cock in abundant spit, she can’t help but stare the whole time. Like nothing could satisfy her more than watching you, moaning with need when she sucks harder on each of your balls, making sure to give them both equal attention.

"Then daddy won’t mind me swallowing that delicious cum? Gonna drain these big, heavy balls right down my throat," Yujin says, but that's not going to happen just yet—

Not when her tongue gets to work, ensuring your balls get doused in warm saliva, wrapping her lips around each one for good measure. This slow, torturous moment that she draws out when she licks over every sensitive spot, working you up so perfectly that you're about ready to explode, to coat that face with hot, sticky cum.

She won’t allow any deviation, not when she has your pleasure all mapped up, a perfect plan on how to turn you into a fucking mess with every swipe that slides over your balls one more time. Right on schedule, she dips even lower, and all your senses come alive when her tongue presses into your ass, swirling around slowly, teasing that sensitive area, testing until her tongue pushes all the way inside.

"Yujin—jesus, fuck, oh my god," you groan out almost involuntarily. One hand stays so firm around the head of your cock while she goes deep. Her tongue thrusts in and out of you, each slow movement feeling as wonderful as it was the first time she did this, like she knows exactly where to go when you're so close. Yujin giggles happily to herself, burying her face in deep, tongue exploring your asshole with expert precision as you barely keep yourself together.

"Nothing daddy likes more than when I eat his ass, right?" And nothing could wipe that smug grin off her face, and damn, she's so right about that when her tongue goes crazy, swirling at your hole, using the tip to plunge in and out, finding all the sensitive nerves.

It's every bit overwhelming as much as it's satisfying, Yujin getting you even closer to that edge, not even stroking your cock anymore when she's too busy lapping her tongue right inside your ass.

"So good, Yujin, so fucking good," you manage out in the midst of pleasure, squirming when the wetness of her tongue fills you. She gets you so close to where you need, but never pushes you over the edge, her own desire to drive you crazy so evident in how sloppy she gets. Those pretty manicured nails dig into your abdomen to keep you from moving, your cock throbbing, leaking all over. "Getting so close, fuck—"

And it's such a struggle not to blow right then, this pressure only building more and more. "Yeah? Daddy loves my tongue in his asshole that much? Might make you cum?"

Yujin doesn’t wait for a response as she plunges so deep, her mouth going straight into overdrive. Her tongue only hits that sensitive area a few more times, before running back all the way to your balls, licking on each one repeatedly while she stares. That is, until her lips are right on your cock again, slowly sliding all the way down to the base, forcing every inch past those pretty lips without a problem.

"Fuck, keep going," you groan, gripping the sheets, desperately needing relief. There's an ache so deep inside that you can't escape, and there's only one person with the power to set it free. "You're gonna make me cum. It's all gonna shoot down your fucking throat, Yujin, right down—"

It's that kind of encouragement she craves, getting a handful of your full balls to fondle and play with while her mouth gives the killing blow. There's no remorse in the way Yujin brings you right up to the peak of pleasure, her mouth so warm, so wet around your entire shaft as she plunges deep down, nose pressed firmly into your crotch.

Then it's all up to you to do the rest when you grab the back of her head and keep her in place.

She watches the whole time as your face contorts and your muscles tense, unable to keep a loud, heavy groan from slipping past your lips when you finally do explode. Shooting right out, that huge thick load spills out as you pump shot after shot right down her throat while she milks it from your balls.

It's exactly what she wants when you get such a tight grip on her head, keeping her held down your throbbing cock while you flood such a massive load straight down into her hungry throat.

“Oh my god, fuck, Yujin—“

Her lips stay wrapped tight, flushed down to your base as her throat works to get every last drop, always so greedy, eyes watching every moment while she empties your balls, fingers still fondling them the whole time. You just keep those groans going, spilling inside the delicious warmth of Yujin’s tight throat and giving her everything as she gulps down shot after shot of your sticky load. She just keeps this delicate squeeze on your balls ever, drawing more out of them to swallow down.

You hold her tight, fingers digging into her scalp, long past the point when your orgasm ends and your cock is completely spent. All this time, Yujin looks so pleased, letting you take as much time as you need to pump that load deep into her stomach, throbbing on repeat. Even after you relax your grip, she's slow to pull her mouth off, sucking with such intensity once you finally empty yourself, having nothing left to shoot, drained so expertly.

There's such a thick, creamy mess in her mouth when her lips part to reveal after taking everything from your cock. It doesn't take long before Yujin lets it all pool, playing with it in a little show before gathering it all up in one big mouthful, tilting her head back and swallowing every single bit.

"Made daddy cum so hard, didn't I?" she purrs, almost in triumph, leaving a trail of wet kisses all over your chest while you just ride through the high. "So fucking good, especially when you pump all of it right down my throat and I don't have to share any of it."

"You're too fucking good, Yujin—"

"Insatiable you could say. If your balls had anything left, I'd be sucking you dry again. Daddy won't go a day without being drained and my mouth or pussy full of thick cum."

She falls straight on top of you, nothing in the way when her leg slides right around you, hugging your waist and pulling you close until her warmth surrounds you again. And of course you welcome it, one hand resting right on the small of her back, the other running all through her hair, relishing in the calm.

"You really are spoiled," you say, brushing some loose strands away as Yujin simply snuggles closer.

"Daddy's spoiled little brat. You wouldn't have it any other way."

----

You don't wake up until later. Head a little clearer, the sleep more than welcome, body rested and well refreshed. Wonyoung still isn't home when you check her room. Neither is Yujin, or at least in your bed, but you find her right in the kitchen once you wander back downstairs.

She doesn't take long to spot you, a wide grin across her face. Her hair is tied up in a messy ponytail, sporting a black tank top and matching gym shorts that show off those toned legs and a lot more as she grabs a bottle of water from the fridge. There's this nice glow to her skin, a little more radiant from what looks like a quick jog outside.

"About time. Missed you, daddy. Princess isn't back yet and you were still out, so I decided to go for a little run."

“Not my fault you wore me out."

"Is that all on me now? All I did was suck your cock just like you asked, like the good girl I am," Yujin argues with the most ridiculous pout you've ever seen.

"Good? Not sure I'd ever use that word to describe you."

"I'm good when I feel like it. And good at riding you until you blow a nice fat load deep inside my tight pussy—"

"Yeah, you're definitely anything but a good girl."

Yujin doesn't bother hiding the look on her face when you stare, stretching those arms above her head and flexing right in front of you, every inch on perfect display and that toned midriff peeking out when her top rises. "What would you even do if I was obedient? If you couldn't punish me whenever you liked, smacking my ass raw, or fucking my throat to keep me quiet?"

"I'd go find a different roommate, obviously."

A dramatic gasp follows, the kind that makes you both laugh when you step closer to kiss her. "Hey, wait, I'm all sweaty here. Let me go hop into the shower first, I won't take too long."

Not a chance you're waiting for her to do that—especially when you're the one who can easily offer an alternative. "No need when I can, I can clean you up right here."

"Perv," Yujin giggles, already considering your offer. "Daddy likes me all hot and sweaty?"

No hesitation on her end when she meets your gaze. "We can save water then—so show me what you have in mind instead," Yujin beckons, reaching her hands out and pulling you in by the collar for a lustful kiss.

"Come on—" You take the lead, grabbing Yujin by the wrist and guiding her along. She knows exactly where you're heading as soon as you turn the corner into the guest bathroom. It's more than enough space to work in once you clear off the sink, sweeping the makeup and skincare all to one side before hoisting Yujin up on the marble counter with no effort at all.

She doesn't wait for any other prompt, pulling off her tank top with your eager hands all over her sweaty body, reveling in her warmth while leaning right in for more of those sloppy, needy kisses, the kind that become her favorite the more riled up she gets. You're too busy ogling her body to be any use though, drinking in the sight of her perky, perfect tits in front of you when your lips separate.

"Keep staring," Yujin insists, as a strong, slender finger tilts your chin up, a far too smug look across her pretty face.

And you have no problem doing so while she undoes her ponytail, changing the messy, disheveled look into two loose pigtails instead as a mischievous smile pulls at her lips. "Isn't this a better look for me, daddy? Gives you plenty to tug on whenever you fuck my tight little pussy."

"It suits a brat like you—but I already wrecked your cunt. So your ass is mine instead."

Excitement fills her expression right away when Yujin leans back against the mirror, bare tits rising and falling when she notes the raging hard-on that's practically begging for attention through your sweatpants. "Even better. Now go on—clean me up, daddy."

There's not a moment's delay, giving her body another heated stare as you reach straight down and pull her shorts along her toned legs. They slip off effortlessly, finding Yujin hasn't bothered with panties underneath either.

Yujin tugs at the hem of your shirt as well, lifting it over your head to get you more comfortable. Then you're running your tongue over her tits, gathering up the beads of sweat as her whole body goes tense under your touch. She's quick to moan as you grope her body, from her abdomen down to her thighs, feeling all the curves and soft, tender skin as her breathing slowly gets heavier.

"And daddy said I was the needy one."

"You are—you want my cock more than anything, every damn day."

"Don't pretend you're complaining, daddy, you like using me way too much to ever get rid of me."

And that's the last thing she says while you draw circles around her nipple, licking up more sweat along the way, this delicious body all yours. Just getting your mouth over her neck makes Yujin shudder, taking your time with each spot you land on—but she has other plans for you, lifting her arms over her head and stretching out for you to indulge.

"I'm so sweaty everywhere... daddy better not miss a single spot."

You wouldn't dream of it. Running kisses up and down her soft skin, you get all your lips over every sensitive area, until you reach where the sweat is most prominent—

Right at her armpit, you kiss her there the second you reach it, Yujin giggling softly when your tongue begins to lash, diving right in. The taste is divine as always, leaving you more than satisfied to lick every single drop up, that natural, delicate aroma just a wonderful bonus that lingers. She's so relaxed while you are anything but. devouring that area, tongue swiping up all that salty sweat like it's your sustenance.

"Mm, daddy loves how I taste, doesn't he? Keep going, love when you pay attention to every part of me—“ That's your plan, to lavish every inch of her gorgeous body. But your focus is kept right here, tongue dragging along every spot of her sweat-doused armpits, swapping between each while she keeps those slender arms raised high for your mouth to get easy access.

Her giggles become soft sighs with your tongue so sloppy, wet licks turning into hungry slurps, savoring that heavenly taste, with your mouth so busy licking and sucking until there's more saliva than sweat before. Yujin encourages it all, knowing all too well how equally insatiable you can get when you're licking her, taking your time to slobber every area, every sensitive spot that gets such a strong reaction out of her.

You really can’t get enough, burying your face to keep the scent of Yujin lingering, the taste of her on your tongue. When your lips somehow detach, and you reach a point of satisfaction, you kiss down her chest in search of more sweat to lick up.

She's all smiles, fingers playing with the strands of your hair while your tongue explores her chest, a layer of sweat right in between her cleavage that's calling your name, your tongue wasting no time in gathering it up.

"More, daddy. Your mouth, fuck, get my body nice and clean—"

You continue your exploration, getting your mouth all over her stiff nipples and watching her tense up when you give them all the attention they deserve—tracing the swell of each breast before the licking intensifies. It earns the same response from Yujin every single time, desperate little whines when your teeth graze along the nub, flicking it back and forth with each hungry suck, switching between them after.

"Fuck," Yujin curses under her breath, and she steals a wrist to bring your fingers to her mouth as your tongue gets busier. Almost like she's mirroring your motions, her own tongue extends, taking two digits inside to wrap around, lips going a bit wild as she begins to suck. And suck does she ever, almost matching the pace of your mouth, saliva covering your fingers in an instant. But that won't distract you, with your mouth hungrily licking down every bit of her breasts, detouring towards her abdomen.

"You taste so good, Yujin—god, your entire body tastes so fucking good—" you mutter in between, tracing your tongue slowly down her midriff, kissing along her abs, in between, over every little part until your mouth is right back where it all started.

"Then I guess I should get all sweaty more often," Yujin suggests, a smirk spreading on her lips that matches how her legs open right up.

But you're not quite ready to head between her thighs like usual, not having your fill of the rest of Yujin's body as you enjoy the view of her cunt, starved for attention.

No need to rush either. Your kisses resume down her thighs, each spot receiving just the right amount of your mouth, until you give all that attention to her pretty feet, lifting one of her ankles and laying a gentle kiss onto each.

"You keep this up and daddy might have to start calling me princess."

That makes you pause, eyes averting from her irresistible body to meet Yujin's mischievous, inviting eyes.

"Absolutely not," is the obvious response you can muster, but it only seems to entertain her more. "One spoiled brat in the house is bad enough."

"Aww, you love when I'm a brat, daddy," Yujin says, feigning disappointment. Her eyes give that little twinkle before her other foot reaches for your chest, teasingly stroking her toes over a nipple. "Fine, no princess. I'll be whatever you need me to be as long as you keep kissing every part of me just like this. Come on, get back to work, daddy."

Almost on auto-pilot you do, and the bliss gets etched on Yujin’s face right away as you admire this underappreciated part of her body. And this part is perfect like the rest of her, silky soft soles with these delicate high arches and pretty painted nails, black polish sparkling under the bright bathroom light. Everywhere you want to kiss, you do, each individual toe meeting your lips before you suck gently, one at a time, letting your wet saliva cover each before moving on.

"Feels so nice, daddy, just keep sucking my toes,” Yujin says, a heavy sigh escaping the entire time when you do exactly that.

She loves getting spoiled like this, and you love indulging her in it, the pleasure overtaking her features while you suck away on her pretty pedicured toes, slipping your tongue in the spaces between, not missing a chance to taste anything.

And you’re just getting started, only slipping her toes from between your lips to focus on her creamy soles, where they feel the softest. An absolute delight on their own, you're not leaving anything without proper attention, dragging your tongue across her arches, the ball of her foot, down to her heel and back up to repeat it all.

"Daddy's going crazy," Yujin groans when your saliva continues to spill from your mouth, dripping all across her feet like the delicacy they are. "Love seeing you like this—my toes in your mouth, salivating all over them…"

All the response you can offer is to take her big toe and slide it back between your lips, sucking with even more vigor, like you can’t ever get enough. Clearly, she’s enjoying all this worship, these content sighs when you turn this into a feast, both soles yours to inhale when they press deep against your face. You can hardly pick where to focus, soles side by side awaiting your tongue, those long, delicious toes needing your lips shortly after.

“Always so hungry for me—you could suck on my toes all day, couldn't you?" she asks, but you refuse to answer, devouring both soles at the same time with the rest of her toes within easy reach for take back in. To make matters worse, Yujin simply pushes one foot away to tease your cock through your sweatpants, until all that attention makes you swell through the fabric.

"Impatient little brat.”

"You say that like you're not dying to shove that thick cock straight up my asshole."

With a final, wet slurp, those pretty toes come sliding out from your hungry mouth, more kisses being pressed onto her soles before you eventually let up. Yujin doesn't hesitate as those slender fingers slip into your waistband right after, pulling your sweatpants off right alongside your underwear in one smooth motion to show just how desperate she is.

Nothing left between your aching shaft, a few needy strokes are all that’s necessary to bring you to full hardness, lips parted and eyes widened, even after countless times like this. "See? It's what you really want. Daddy can't get enough of this perfect cock inside my ass."

"Guess you got me there,” you say, almost in annoyance.

You don't bother waiting for another bratty reply, because Yujin knows right where you want her as she hops off the counter, pigtails bouncing freely when she faces away in front of this enormous bathroom mirror. She gets all in position, bending over nice and slow, angling her delicious bare ass as you try to find something useful—nearly knocking every bottle over when you spot the closest thing resembling lube.

A bottle of fancy massage oil is your best option for now, although you're left wondering why something like this is mixed in with the assortment of cosmetics. A question for later, when your mind is focused on this girl's plump cheeks that press up against you.

That's your cue to start pouring oil down to cover her round ass, the excess spilling onto her thighs while you rub it all in. Another generous squirt right above her lower back before your hands sink into those shapely cheeks, massaging the oil deeper in and getting everything nice and slick.

Yujin's more than relaxed while you turn this prep into an unplanned massage session, rubbing the oil all around the small of her back, down enough to coat her thighs, and then you're back up to knead her supple ass some more. She's glistening, that perfect ass so slippery wet when she grinds your throbbing cock sandwiched between her oily cheeks, an impatience tease in full effect.

"Your cock feels so fucking hard. Can't wait to have it stretching me open, god, daddy’s gonna feel so good stuffed inside my tight asshole."

You have to agree, but that doesn't mean you aren't going to enjoy your cock sliding between these glistening cheeks a little longer, because you can tease her just as much—

Especially with the way you grip her ass nice and firm, fingers digging into that inviting flesh. Your cock is already leaking, throbbing uncontrollably while you indulge, sliding up and down the curve of her ass when you inch a bit closer to that tight little hole with every movement.

Impatience from Yujin shows in the mirror, practically ready to beg the more your shaft slides between these cheeks. But you have to take your time and savor the view of this girl so close, bent over the counter with those insanely long legs spread, ass all oiled up and primed to be taken.

But Yujin, she grows tired of the tease, pulling those cheeks apart so you can see where you’re destined to go. Reaching back, she guides your slippery shaft where you need to be, where she needs it to be. "In me—put it in my ass right fucking now. Pound my asshole the way you always do, please, daddy, I need it—"

Not like you're going to tell her no. She's looking over her shoulder when your cock finally nudges inside that tightest opening, grabbing a hip before you slowly start to sink inside.

Fuck, she's tight, so incredibly tight, and it only gets better the more you watch that ass swallow your entire cock, not stopping until she's taken everything you can give. It's when your hips meet those oil-slicked cheeks that you really savor the moment, Yujin's gripping asshole hugging so tightly around your base, the heavenly warmth surrounding every inch.

"Love that dick in my ass, daddy. Right where you belong. Give me it, give me it all," she purrs, arching her back when you start pulling out, inch by slow inch, relishing the grip on your cock. The initial withdrawal is always the hardest, difficult to slip out the entire way—and then you’re right back in with one rough thrust, Yujin moaning so loud from taking it so deep with your hands tight on her wide hips.

You're happy to oblige her every whim, and you do so with this impossible grip on your cock that makes you throb like crazy when sliding back inside Yujin. Holding nothing back, all you can do is groan as she takes you all the way in, pounding faster within those bouncy cheeks with every powerful thrust. It’s hard to pinpoint your focus—whether on that tight ass swallowing you whole, or that pretty face moaning in the mirror when you keep pounding, that tight ass that jiggles so hypnotically with your hips.

"God, this fucking ass, Yujin. So tight, so fucking tight," you mutter, struggling to contain yourself while you ram your cock without pause, knowing full well how desperately Yujin wants this—needs this.

She keeps herself perfectly bent over while you pound away, using the grip on her hips to pull her right back onto your cock, fully hilted every single time.

"So good, so fucking good—" Yujin never stops moaning out her satisfaction, loud and proud when you bottom out, her entire body jolted from being fucked so deep. Every rough thrust gets her ass pushing right back into your hips, cheeks smacking deliciously loud, meeting your rhythm just perfectly. "Daddy's big cock inside my tight little asshole feels so fucking good, keep going, deeper, god, fuck me, fuck me—"

You're not letting up with how hard you're going—cock slamming in as hard as her tight hole will let you, not settling for anything less than being balls fucking deep. The way her oily cheeks bounce and smack up against your hips is all too intoxicating, even moreso when you hold onto them and guide yourself straight into her warm, welcoming asshole, before delivering her ass a powerful smack just to watch that flesh ripple from the impact.

“Fucking brat, always needing your ass pounded,” you growl, giving her cheeks the attention they so desperately crave.

She's groaning and whimpering so beautifully at how you're fucking her deep, clutching the counter with a white knuckle grip when you give her ass another harsh slap, one that echoes throughout the entire bathroom.

"Fuck, daddy, just like that. Spank my ass, smack it hard, fucking punish me—" It’s not what Yujin deserves, but you’ll give in for your own selfish needs regardless.

Making this ass so fucking red—to show who this delicious ass truly belongs to, that's the ultimate goal. Squeezing tight on each cheek, you smack it even harder, as your palm crashes down without pause to get the sting just right. She just whimpers, begging for more while you drill her asshole, one strike after the other, never hitting the same spot more than once.

"Fucking—"

You feel her ass tightening each time a spank connects, only urging you to hit that tender flesh harder, so loud and obscene the sound that echoes against the walls when you hammer into her at your hardest.

"Brat—"

The words sound different after each harsh, merciless strike, your hand marking every spot, all around her gorgeous ass to watch the redness grow. "Fucking spoiled little—"

There’s nothing but pleasure in her eyes as you catch the reflection, pounding into her ass with everything you've got, each thrust ending with a harsh slap to those wet cheeks—and still, she wants more. She gets so loud, those constant cries begging for you to never let up. You don’t dare even think about doing so, using all the strength you can muster to punish that ass how it deserves, a pretty shade of red that never fades, a hand relentless against her soft, bouncy cheeks,

She's so vocal, always encouraging more, demanding even. You can’t deny the pleasure in taking her like this, absolutely destroying her, cock filled to the hilt and slamming her into the counter. But it’s never enough, no, not for Yujin, the way she’s rubbing at her clit so greedily in between all this, just desperate for anything else you’ll give her.

So while you've got this beautiful view of her tight, flawless ass and perfect curves while you fuck her senseless, you take full advantage of that, getting a tight grip on her pigtails, yanking them back while burying your cock in deep.

It's everything. Pulling Yujin back with every harsh tug, her ass gets so unbelievably tight and warm wrapped around your stiff shaft, whenever you get as deep as you can fit. The harder you tug on those makeshift handles, the harder she loses control. The ragged moans, the broken curses, the desperate whimpers for more only encourage every moment of this.

"Daddy's big cock, so deep inside my asshole. Can't even handle it—you're fucking me so well, fucking my ass so hard I can't even think straight. I need this so fucking bad, daddy, fuck—“

God, the feeling is mutual.

Your thrusts pick up the pace, almost punishing as you keep this up, keep her ass stretched out on your cock. Yujin takes it all like it’s nothing, watching herself get fucked so hard and deep whenever you shove every last inch inside her greedy asshole. Each thrust forces her against the counter, fingernails scraping against the surface, breaths getting more uneven, uncoordinated while you pull her pigtails, not even caring about anything else.

"Don't stop, please don’t stop, daddy. My ass feels so good with your cock pounding it, so fucking full, god, please—fucking wreck my tight little asshole," she whimpers, somehow growing impossibly tighter.

She’s bent over at such a ridiculously obscene angle, and your throbbing cock buries so deep with your fingers tangled up in these cute pigtails, hips refusing to do anything but pound furiously. You can see that blissed-out expression whenever you look up, whenever you give a harsh little tug that sends Yujin reeling, tightening even more around you. There’s no better view than this, watching your shaft impale between these reddened cheeks, tits bouncing in the reflection, such a sinful body dripping with oil.

"You're so tight, Yujin, god, I love this ass, fuck—"

The urge to just absolutely destroy her hits strong, and she welcomes it in the way her snug little asshole clenches harder the longer you keep on ravishing her. You get such a forceful grip on both those pigtails and use them to guide Yujin back, slamming into her as deep as possible, the harsh slap of skin on skin almost deafening.

"Daddy's pounding me so hard, pulling my hair, fucking my asshole like it's a goddamn toy. Use me, use this greedy little anal slut. Fuck me, fuck me like this, fuck me until you need to cum—"

You're so caught up in pummeling Yujin's tight asshole that you hardly notice the wetness that suddenly gushes out between her legs, this intense mess between her legs and the bathroom tile.

That doesn't stop you though from giving your all and driving every inch in, even as her thighs quiver and her whole body shakes. These constant whimpers and cries for more only fuel the power in your hips. “Your tight asshole feels so damn good, squeezing me so fucking much, god—I love opening your ass up so fucking much.”

That’s when you get one more harsh tug on those pigtails before returning your hands to their rightful place on those wide hips, pounding into this little stretched hole like never before.

"Fuck—yes, daddy, oh my god, yes," she stammers through her heavy breaths, body nearly collapsing if not for you holding her hips tightly in place. She's a sticky mess, all this wetness spread across her thighs while you watch her lose it in the mirror, lips parted to voice how good you’re giving it to her.

You aren't letting up. No chance at this point when you're positioned so deep, slamming that tight hole and watching as her lips curl from each moan, the way she grips desperately on anything she can get her hands on, fingers latching onto nothing in the end. Her pigtails bounce with your rhythm, but all you can focus on is keeping your cock nestled so deep, grabbing Yujin tight and fucking her as roughly as she demands.

One more set of relentless slaps to that beautiful backside and you can't hold on any more—reaching the point where you've been fighting yourself, Yujin's ass so fucking good on your cock.

So close when you fuck her without mercy, with everything you have left, impaling her asshole the way she begs, pleads for more, keeping up this momentum until all the way to the finish line. And once your length slides out, you get a glimpse of your masterpiece: that tight, stretched open asshole, left gaping for a moment while you give yourself enough room.

Yujin is already positioning herself perfectly on her knees, head tilted back just right. She opens her mouth so eagerly, tongue out and waiting, licking at your balls to finish you off. "Need you to cum, need that hot fucking load. Make a mess all over me, cover me, paint my pretty fucking face—"

That's enough to get you far past the point of no return, Yujin looking so sinfully gorgeous, ready for her reward.

The last few strokes are when her tongue slides out a bit more, still lashing at your heavy sack while you pump yourself to completion. And her stunning face is more than enough motivation to finish, but the way her body looks, this deadly combination of sweat and massage oil, shimmering in the light in tandem with the seductive little look she throws—

"Yujin, fuck—"

You hardly have enough time to get the words out before you’re unloading all over her face. Hot cum leaves the tip of your cock in thick streaks, landing perfectly on one cheek, the next right into her hungry mouth, painting her tongue a creamy white.

She doesn't flinch or shy away, a pleased smile spreading across her lips while you coat them so thoroughly, two shots hitting her forehead and an extra thick one streaking on her nose. It's massive, a huge load that leaves Yujin absolutely dripping in cum, mouth open for you to cover the rest of her tongue while you jerk yourself furiously to finish, left in a hot, sticky mess once you've given her what she deserves.

"I look so pretty when daddy covers me with his cum, don’t I? Feels so warm, so thick…” Yujin can’t help but smile through her cum-stained features when the weight of your climax clings to her.

It leaves the slightest shudder across your body when her tongue slides back and forth, ensuring everything's licked clean. She seals her lips tight down to your base one last time, fingertips playing with your balls to make sure there’s nothing left to drain. Then she’s kissing your length, showing off how happy she is to be such a fucking mess, those lips coated thick in white cum on your swollen tip. "And so fucking delicious. I think I'm far too spoiled with your load, daddy."

"Pretty sure it's the other way around, with how good your ass felt," you tell her, still twitching every time her lips meet your sensitive cockhead, admiring just how beautiful she looks covered in you.

Yujin just runs her fingertips through the creamy strands that slowly drip, keeping eye contact while she brings them right to her lips, tongue out to have just one more taste.

"Poor Wonyoungie all left out—let me get a few pictures to send, then I'm all yours again," she promises, tapping a few buttons to send the shot she snaps, her screen showing just how much you decorated her pretty face. She tosses it aside, eager to pick right up where she left off, starting the running water for this massive bathtub the two of you can fit perfectly in that's going to feel so good.

✦ ✦

Fresh sheets, clean bodies, and then you're raiding the fridge for something to eat, wrapped up in comfy bathrobes. "Mint chocolate chip—or black cherry sorbet?” Yujin asks with the freezer door open wide, taking inventory to decide the winner.

"Princess won't be happy we ate the last mintcho, and you know she doesn't even care about the black cherry."

"We can't always make decisions based on what she prefers, that's how she ends up so spoiled."

"We?" you joke back, eyeing her from the side, making it all too obvious who the main culprit of the situation is.

"Yes—we," Yujin repeats with an accusing, yet playful tone, raising her brow. "As if you don't spoil her every chance you can get too, daddy. So don't even start."

Nothing can defend against that, or the way Yujin giggles, putting the tub of black cherry on the counter and shutting the freezer. "You must be forgetting how often I find her in your room, panties stuffed in her mouth with a vibrator against her cunt."

Yujin's cheeks get a touch redder when she digs out two spoons from the utensils drawer, handing one your way, twisting the ice cream lid off before sitting right down in your lap.

“Okay, fine—we're both guilty of spoiling the little brat."

Without any argument left, Yujin scoops a spoonful, scraping along the edge before she brings it to your mouth, kissing you right after. "Only because she'll be so insufferable if we don't, so we've picked our poison."

You can't exactly deny that, but that doesn't mean you have to like it, digging your own spoon into the tub of black cherry and enjoying a big bite.

"She'll survive without getting her way for one night."

"Don't be so sure. Ice cream is one thing," Yujin muses, already digging her spoon in again, taking a mouthful down without sharing this time. "But that cock of yours, she won't last ten minutes without it buried inside her, you know."

"That's what handcuffs are for," you laugh, thinking about how easy it would be, tying her limbs to the bedposts while Yujin takes whatever she wants from you.

"Don't be mean, daddy. Wonyoungie’s been good lately, let's not deprive her too much. Save the handcuffs for next time when you fuck her brains out after she gets back."

Again, she's not wrong—about any of it, but you don't have any more time to think about it when Yujin makes a show of licking her spoon clean, slow and suggestive with the tip sliding along her bottom lip. She isn't as subtle as she thinks, using a finger to dip into the tub before doing the same thing again, sliding that finger into her mouth to suck so lewdly.

"I'm not sure what tastes better right now: you or the sorbet. Both are so sweet, so sticky and creamy…"

"Yujin, please. Can I not eat ice cream without you being such a slut?"

"Hey—you like me being a slut. It's not my fault I can't stop thinking about licking this ice cream off your thick cock. Bet it would taste so fucking good."

"Think you need another shower. A cold one, without me this time," you say with a roll of your eyes, scooping up the last big bite of ice cream to finish it off.

"I think I need more dick," Yujin says back, so casually. She's even far less subtle when shifting her body, robe riding up along her thighs. "Ice cream, and then daddy's cream filling me up..."

You hardly have a response to something so shameless. No point even trying to, not when she's still at it, sliding a finger in whatever leftover melted ice cream is left inside the tub, then bringing it back to your lips to suck clean. And you do without hesitation, cleaning up the sweetness on her finger, taking the entire thing in between your lips—but then your teeth bite down firmly, hard enough for it to almost hurt.

"Now who's being a brat, daddy?" Yujin chuckles, withdrawing the digit so suddenly, taking the incentive to get off your lap and toss the container away.

“Learned from the best."

The fun moves to the couch with both of you horizontal in a tangle, Yujin on top in a lazy straddle. It's anything but innocent when her hands work beneath the fluffy bathrobe to feel up your chest, fingertips dancing along wherever she pleases while her lips stay locked on yours.

"Daddy looks so sexy in this robe—almost as much as when there's nothing covering you at all," Yujin murmurs, not afraid to leave a big lipstick stain on your cheek that she runs over with her thumb to smear. It's when she gets a bit adventurous, finding the belt to loosen it ever so slightly, wanting what's underneath. "Shame there's more covering you than there needs to…”

"Jesus, Yujin. How are you even more insatiable than usual?”

Yujin is nothing but smiles and giggles. "Do I need a reason? You love that about me, daddy. Don't act like you aren't the exact same. Besides—Wonyoung won't be home for a while, plenty more fun to get into while it's just us."

"Pounding your ass in the bathroom wasn't enough for you? And then a huge load all over your face?"

"Daddy, of course not. I thought that was obvious by now—one huge load in my hungry little pussy barely does anything to satisfy me," Yujin says so brazenly, the look on her face like she's offended for having to explain it.

"You're an absolute brat. What would you do without me?"

"Definitely not get fucked nearly as well. All the toys in the world couldn't compare to that amazing cock. None of them can cum inside me like you can, either."

"Is that all I'm good for? Filling you with my load? Nothing else?"

"Yep. Nothing else, daddy.”

She giggles with this wicked little grin that forms on her lips while she opens your robe wide, exposing all the skin she could hope for. A few bites along your chest, a couple playful little licks, then her hand slips lower. Grazing across your abs, she moves lower even until gets exactly what she wants—your cock wrapped up in her grip, stroking you nice and slow.

"God, daddy—just look at this perfect, thick cock, making me drool all over. Been inside me everywhere, in my mouth, filling my tight asshole, there's nowhere I haven't been stretched open by this."

"I think you're just as spoiled as our little princess. Maybe even worse."

"You're the same, daddy. Couldn't be happier to let me sit on your cock as much as I want. Always needing my mouth on you too, how many pairs of my panties have you ripped off me now? Some of those were my favorite, you know."

"Can you blame me for being impatient? When your body looks like this? When your pussy feels as amazing as yours does?"

"Guess we're both obsessed," Yujin says, extending her smile with her fist tightening around you while she pumps up and down, stroking faster. "All that time spent studying when daddy couldn't breed me... I know you enjoyed fucking Wonyoung all you wanted when I wasn't around. How many times did you pump her tight little cunt full of cum, or paint her pretty face?"

"Not enough," you say without hesitation. Yujin lets out this little huff in reply, tugging a few times hard to pull that extra grunt from your lips. "It's not as fun pounding her ass if you're not here for her to eat out at the same time."

"Fuck," Yujin whispers under her breath. "Nothing is better than that slut eating my pussy while you're destroying her ass. Watching you empty your balls inside that perfect, round little bubble butt and seeing how much cum I get to lick out of her gaping, creampied little asshole—“

"You're getting me so hard just thinking about it."

"Good, that's the point. Keep thinking about it. How she's on all fours, choking on your fat cock while I’m devouring your cum out of her ass.“

"Yujin—"

"Yes, daddy?"

"Get up here already. Need that fat fucking ass down on my face."

Yujin wastes no time, obeying with a grin spreading across her lips, so happy to oblige in an instant. Slowly, she removes her robe, one hand first loosening the belt around her waist, then a casual drop off her shoulders. All revealed in a single motion.

You don't move an inch while waiting with growing anticipation, and soon her back is to you, those deadly curves in plain view, ass hovering above, right where you need it so desperately. She only hesitates for a moment before lowering her plump cheeks down, with you pulling her hips the rest of the way. Then you have exactly what you crave, teasing that puckered hole with a quick flick of your tongue. "This ass, Yujin—this perfect fucking ass."

Not even a chance for any response as your tongue buries in that tight little hole, a low moan from Yujin quickly following suit. She grinds against your face to make your work a little easier, her warm, soft cheeks pressed down, taking full control so she can ride that hot breath.

“I think daddy’s more insatiable than any of us. Can’t go a day without having me sit on that cute face,” Yujin says, this sultry groan of satisfaction slipping between her lips the more you slide your tongue in. And you’re not going to deny any of that.

Your fingers dig into her soft cheeks when she's so perfectly at your mouth, tongue so deep inside the rim of her ass so you can swirl all along that sensitive hole, give whatever she craves. Her movements slow only for the second needed to grab your cock, aching and throbbing, fingers around your shaft with a firm grasp. She starts stroking you gently, using that same rhythm she's riding your face with.

“F-fuck, love that tongue, daddy,” she groans, and the faster Yujin pumps, the rougher you tongue that tight hole of hers, drinking in those heavenly sounds that escape. “Love when daddy eats my ass like this, when he gets all greedy…”

And the way she whimpers when you lick a little slower, more deliberately to tease your tongue across her puckered hole, gives you plenty of motivation to draw this all out. Yujin gets lost so easily in the pleasure when her entire body reacts, really trying her hardest to trap you beneath her ass.

"Just like that, don't fucking stop," she pleads, rocking harder onto your mouth when you burrow deep, and both her talented hands travel the full length of your dick, thumb circling the swollen tip, spreading precum everywhere. "How many times can I milk you today and have you still be rock fucking hard, daddy?"

"As many times as you fucking want," you mutter, tongue swirling faster, sliding up and down, and you can't even begin to contain how ravenous you are while she works your cock. One pump, another, your dick throbbing between her magical fingers. "Doesn't matter how many times if I can get my tongue deep in your pretty little asshole."

"Fuck, you're so obsessed, you know that, daddy? So obsessed," Yujin breathes out, strokes picking up a bit while getting a hand on your balls, cupping them, playing and tugging with them gently.

"Like you can talk—"

"At least I can admit I can't go a day without your dick inside me."

"Needy little slut."

"Says the one who needed to beg to get their tongue in my asshole,” Yujin says, all smug in tone. You’re not really in any position to argue when you have her sitting right on your face, your tongue buried between those cheeks. Regardless, it gets you exactly what you want—those sinful sounds, Yujin moaning, trembling atop your face so shamelessly.

"Don't hear you telling me to stop," you say between quick, short strokes of your tongue. Yujin only lets out a desperate little whimper of confirmation, tugging on your balls a bit firmer, playing with them so deliciously between her fingertips.

“Only because you’re f-fuck—so good at it.”

That's your cue to double your efforts, going in with everything you can. Your tongue laps at her saliva-drenched entrance, making her shudder so desperately with every swirl, yanking out all these moans with every flick.

Yujin doesn't have anything else to say, the silence broken only by a loud, satisfied moan whenever your tongue plunges deep, those delicious cheeks suffocating you when they crash down onto your face. She’s just falling apart by the second, hardly able to do much but play with your balls and tease a single finger up your shaft as she moans shamelessly, head hung back, hips rocking harder against your mouth.

"God, daddy, you’re so good—fuck, so good at this. Love how obsessed you are, so needy for me," she whines, eyes squeezed shut, just letting everything spill from her mouth. "But you're so hard now, that cock needs to be in me, I need it, fuck—"

Yujin pleads so sweetly, lifting up with only enough time to keep your tongue right on her the moment she moves. You watch the entire time she slides down your body, reaching the spot just above your hips where she ends up, ass in the air when she lines you up. "Daddy doesn’t need to do a thing. Let me fuck that perfect dick while you relax and enjoy my wet little cunt."

Hardly anything to complain about there. Yujin immediately squats down and reaches underneath to grab hold of your throbbing length, angling just right, teasing the tip up against her slick folds.

You let her handle the rest, and get two deep handfuls of that perfect fucking ass while she takes your entire length without struggle. These content sighs leave her throat the second you're balls deep, when your cock gets swallowed by that heavenly warmth. She's so tight no matter what entrance, lifting up that immaculate body, so she can sink back down entirely to the base and consume you in that wonderful, wet heat.

"Shit, Yujin, feels so good, so fucking good, god," you groan out, losing yourself in how tight her warm little cunt is, those wide hips already in motion. Her hands get a firm grip on your thighs, using them for support when she gets so deliciously deep off the bat, ass bouncing so perfectly for your own benefit.

“Needed this so bad," Yujin gasps, words pouring from her lips without even thinking. "This thick dick in me, pounding my needy little cunt. I’m obsessed, obsessed with your cock, just like you’re obsessed with my ass, my tight cunt—my pretty face that you love covering. How good is it, daddy?"

“So fucking good, Yujin—fuck, baby. Love watching you fuck me like a desperate little cock slut.” She picks up speed and looks over her shoulder, right into your eyes, mouth hanging open with these desperate little moans as your gaze travels down to those slick, pussy lips that grip so impossibly tight, demanding you stay inside.

"Like I could do anything but bounce on your thick fucking cock, god, I can’t get enough of feeling daddy so deep."

And this look she gets, this hunger that reflects in her eyes confirms it. The way Yujin rolls her hips, slamming so deep and sinking as far down as she possibly can—it all makes you throb so hard when she comes crashing down, hot flesh on hot flesh so goddamn loud. Her moans turn up a level when you palm those soft cheeks, slapping away when they bounce, digging your fingers deep into the flesh to get even more reactions out of her.

It's all so careless the way she rides your cock, and it doesn't take long before she's getting all sweaty again, perspiration that glistens on her lower back with how she fucks you harder, dropping those perfect, rippling cheeks all the way down. Another heavy slap to her ass makes her cunt tighten even more, and Yujin only impales herself harder, digging her nails into your thighs, a little pain only adding to the pleasure as your cock slides through that slippery heat.

"Gonna ride daddy until he fills me up, until those balls are so fucking empty. You're only allowed to breed me today—that little whore Wonyoung doesn't get anything.”

There's a hint of jealousy in her voice that’s mixed with her demands, like she's using your body to release the frustrations of how Wonyoung has been dominating your attention lately. And you're more than happy to comply. To enjoy the vigorous way Yujin impales herself on your cock, the way she can’t do anything but throw herself on you even harder, crashing down, thighs so obscenely spread out on either side to give the perfect view of every inch that gets buried inside.

"Fuck, can't get enough, can't ever get enough. Daddy’s cock is so perfect, gonna fuck you until I cum, until I cum so hard—and then you're gonna fill me, aren’t you? Fill my cunt so deep, you’re gonna breed me over and over,” Yujin says, like it’s your only purpose to do just that.

Her body is always in motion, the rhythm of her hips never one to yield for anything as Yujin rides you so hard you can hardly breathe. Left behind is a slick, dripping mess that leaks down your shaft when she lifts up, only to slam down hard as she can, balls deep, every last inch inside.

"Almost there, almost fucking there," Yujin gasps out, and so are you, that familiar swelling in your balls, ready to unload right after she does. "Shit, daddy, oh god, I'm gonna fucking—“

Her body finishes the rest of the sentence at the end of one satisfying bounce—and then she's clenching violently all around your shaft while she fucks herself right over the edge. She gushes with almost enough force to slip out, but her weight is pressed all the way down, thighs trembling, body shaking, moaning even louder when her orgasm tears through her entire body.

It hits hard—harder than it should with that pretty face twisted up in bliss. But Yujin keeps bouncing, the lewdest little noises spilling out so much like the slick that coats your shaft.

"Daddy, fuck, oh my god, daddy—" Yujin gasps out when she slams her hips down again and again, each bounce in your lap not letting up, her greedy cunt getting so unbearably tight around your cock.

Her walls continue clenching, almost begging for you to spill right then and there. She's slowing herself down just enough to let you savor how those swollen pussy lips spread around your length, how goddamn wet they've gotten, so eager to milk another load. Yujin rides it all out, these constant bounces that are anything but gentle, and then her hips lift up enough for you to slip out—

There's an emptiness in an instant, one that doesn’t last long when Yujin shifts her weight around to face you, all her arousal coating your aching length. She sits right back down, sinking back down with that insane grip before your next breath, your cock right back inside where it belongs.

"Need to see daddy’s face when he breeds me. Need that load pumped as far as it can go in my fucking cunt,” Yujin demands, and god, she looks like a beautiful mess, this strain in her voice that makes her sound so goddamn sexy. It only gets you closer to the edge, having that gaze locked on you while she rests her palms on your chest, hips picking right where they left off.

Then she's bouncing so quickly on your cock, riding with purpose, tits bouncing in sync as your cock has no choice but to submit to her body.

"Give it to me—give it all, daddy. Need to make your big cock explode inside my little pussy," Yujin says, breath hitching from how frantic she drives her hips down. "Need to milk all that fucking cum out, wanna feel it so fucking deep."

"Shit, Yujin, you're so—fuck," is all you can say, a mess of words just pouring out, because no matter how many times you fuck this cock hungry little brat, she still pulls all this out of you. "Addicted little fucking slut so greedy for my cum."

“Shut up and breed me, daddy. Breed this desperate fucking slut, please, let me have it, let me feel this thick fucking cock pumping everything in me, fuck—“

Despite her climax moments ago, Yujin doesn’t know the meaning of fatigue, and continues riding with fervor, focused so intently on milking your cock. You’re there just waiting for the inevitable, watching the sweat on her body, the bliss on her face when she lifts up before crashing back down. The hot sounds of your bodies colliding play on repeat, with Yujin so wet that your cock slips out by accident, meeting the chill of the air before it disappears all in a second into that heavenly warmth again.

"So fucking deep, daddy’s so, so deep, god," Yujin moans out between these frantic bounces that you can hardly keep up with. Nothing could stop how you throb, your cock swollen and aching and just there on the edge, so sensitive to every movement. "Nothing better than getting bred by daddy's big cock, nothing better but being a fucking cum dump—"

If that wasn't enough to do you in, it's the way Yujin leans in to lick the side of your neck, moaning right in your ear while your body starts to shudder. Then there's a delicate hand that reaches up and wraps around your throat, giving a firm squeeze—that definitely does the rest of the work.

It's enough to take you all the way. enough for you to let out a loud, guttural moan while your thick mess spills inside her cunt.

The second Yujin tightens her grip on your throat is what makes you empty like never before, flooding her womb with so, so much. You hold her wrist steady as her greedy cunt milks out everything you have—her hips roll a little more while the tightness from her velvety walls refuses to relent, every violent spurt hers to have.

"Fuck yes, god, just like that, daddy, breed me. Mmh, that's so much filling me up,” Yujin moans right beside your ear, that lustful gaze that keeps your pleasure flowing while all that thick, hot seed unloads without end. You only throb even harder with each clench, her warm cunt so desperate to wring you dry as you pump load after hot load into her.

You’ve never seen such a satisfied look on Yujin’s face, your balls more than empty, but she’s still bouncing on your cock, rocking those insane hips to do what she can to squeeze a little bit more out.

“God, Yujin... fucking brat always makes me cum so hard," you say with whatever leftover energy there is left. She’s smiling at that, knowing that everything inside her is all her doing. And even as the grip on your throat relaxes, her pussy isn’t done claiming what belongs to her, these tired little bounces finishing what she started.

You’re on the verge of collapse, when Yujin leans forward to press a gentle, grateful kiss against your lips. She gets her hands cupping your face as her hips begin to move again, a gradual rise of her ass that lets go inch by inch, until you eventually slip out, leaving your load to start leaking out from her well-fucked cunt.

"That's all inside me right now. Your thick load leaking from my fucking pussy looks so good, doesn’t it? Daddy did such a good job breeding me, nothing better than being pumped so full—“

Yujin is kissing you again, slower this time, taking the time to plant her lips on any part of your face she can get, the lingering bliss doing wonders for that beautiful glow on her face. She seems as spent as you are, but even then, there’s nothing to keep her still—nothing to stop her as she guides you back in without warning.

"Jesus, Yujin—" you hiss between gritted teeth when she rolls those fucking hips again, and that slippery, wet warmth returns, your cum acting almost like lube as it mixes in with her juices. Yujin sinks back down on every sensitive inch without pause, forcing out an aching throb and that look on her face gets even more devilish. "God, you're gonna kill me, brat."

"My cum-hungry pussy isn't done just yet, daddy. I can keep going—" But you can’t. And Yujin knows the way she mercilessly bucks her hips with one quick roll, one rough motion that squeezes you from base to tip. "Daddy said I was addicted, so he’s not wrong. My poor little pussy just can’t get enough of being full of that thick fucking cum.”

Your cock can hardly take any more, not that she would ever have it any other way. “Yujin, p-please—“

"Daddy can't be too sensitive to keep fucking this little cunt. Need those balls to fill up again so I can empty them, so I can see that face again when you breed me one more time, “ Yujin says, not letting up, driving that perfect, dripping cunt all the way down your length.

"F-fucking brat, too goddamn much, too, ah—"

All this strain is right in your voice, but all Yujin does is respond with another sinister laugh before slamming that ass down hard in your lap. And with ease, she does it again, sliding off your cock just to slam back in, eager to draw every bit of sensitivity out as possible.

“Is Yujinnie being too needy for daddy's poor, sensitive cock again? Not my fault this tight pussy gets so desperate to empty those big, heavy balls, just so I can get all that cum inside me…” And to emphasize her point, she squeezes with every word, a fucking vice grip that draws out this broken, pitiful little moan from your throat. "Such an unbearable little slut that I have to beg daddy to use me over and over again."

There's a kiss on your lips that can only be described as indulgent, that takes your mind off how her pussy wants to force another load from you. But in that same moment, her hips start to ease up, the overwhelming stimulation just that tiny bit more bearable.

"Poor daddy. Fine, maybe I'll just stay here with you nice and deep inside me. At least until you're ready to fill me again," Yujin says as she nuzzles her face right up against the side of your neck. And you’ve never been so relieved when her hips finally stop moving. Her hot breath lingers on your skin as you find yourself losing the battle with exhaustion. But then—

"Are you two really fucking without me?" Wonyoung comes back at the worst time, because the second she takes a single step in the door, she gets an eyeful of this entire scene laid out in front of her, where she's barely had time to put the plethora of bags from shopping down.

"You were gone like—a million hours, and we both got a little too needy. Besides, you've been using him nonstop since finals week."

"Hey, that's not true," Wonyoung whines as she saunters over, looking at the current state of how things are and plops down on the couch cushions. "You were busy and daddy wasn't. He didn’t want you to be disturbed, so he fucked me in places you weren't—the parking garage, the dressing room at my favorite store, the campus bathrooms, this little conference room where he pounded me against the window..."

"A conference room? Like one of those with glass walls? How did you even think of that place?"

"It was in that weird old building that nobody uses anymore—but that doesn't matter. There's also the ice cream parlor where he came on my face in the bathroom."

And while she continues, the list seems to just go on and on, places and situations that seem almost unrealistic were it not for the fact you were right there at every moment.

"The place where you always get brain freeze but refuse to admit it? That place?" Yujin asks and shakes her head, like it's a completely normal conversation to have while you're still buried inside.

"I don't get—yes, that place! We went there right after. And daddy held me against the sink and fucked my brains out again. I almost had to walk out of there with cum all over my face because the sink was broken and they were all out of paper towels."

"There was literally a sign that said out of order. It's your fault for ignoring it."

Yujin can't help but laugh. "Idiot."

"I saw it! And it didn't mean I couldn't use it, okay?"

"It's in the name, princess. Out of order. Literally says not working. Literally."

"How was I-I thought it meant the toilets didn't flush or the sinks would drip or something. Not that I can't fucking come in and get bent over and fucked."

Yujin really laughs this time—this audible laugh at the absurdity, like she can't believe how ridiculous the exchange is as Wonyoung sits here all pouty, explaining herself. "There's this thing called common sense. Try using that next time."

"Fuck you, don't be so—" Wonyoung inhales deeply. "What makes you think that's even on my mind when daddy's face is right between my thighs, huh?"

"Of course not. Our princess wouldn't want to hurt her pretty, precious head thinking," Yujin fires back.

Wonyoung just ignores her and moves on, standing up with her arms crossed. "So now that you're both done and you've ruined the couch again, that means daddy is available again, right?"

"Who said we're done? And the couch isn't even that bad. Don't act like you haven't squirted all over daddy's face on this exact piece of furniture, slut."

"Hey—I, look it's not my fault he makes me cum so fucking hard I practically flood his stupid mouth when he tongues my asshole," Wonyoung protests.

Utterly ridiculous, this exchange. Yujin can't even begin to cover her amusement and giggles while shaking her head again.

"So, like I was saying, do I get daddy now, or not?"

Yujin just looks in your direction, like you have any answer for that question, your body not even able to move the slightest right now. "I think daddy needs to rest for a while before either of us drains his balls again."

Wonyoung clearly doesn’t like that answer, another pout extending on her lips. "Waited all this time to jump on his dick, and it's already fucking spent."

"Let him recharge, you greedy whore," Yujin grins, with a lift of her hips, this empty feeling returning so quickly, almost having gotten used to having your cock deep inside her. "If you're that desperate to get filled, I can go get the strap, the one that shoots loads of fake cum."

"As if that's even the same—ugh, fine," Wonyoung scoffs. "But you're letting me ride your face first. Then we'll see about putting that dumb toy in my ass."

"Fine by me, slut," Yujin responds, clearly thrilled by the notion, a wider grin showing. "Come join us whenever, daddy. We'll be in the room with the brat screaming."

That's when Wonyoung forgets about the bags left on the floor, tugging her dress up over her head to toss it away as she follows a naked Yujin who already disappears into the hallway.

You just relax back, alone for now. Maybe you'll join them later. For now, rest, recover a little. Maybe a lot—knowing exactly what you’ll walk into with these two, you're gonna need it.

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