#mirror smut

[buckyseternaldoll]

Mirror Me

— Part 1: He Feels Everything

Summary: Waking up sore and still needy, you find yourself back under Bucky, this time in front of a mirror. What follows is six intense rounds of claiming and being claimed, every thrust a promise, every release a mark that you’re his.

Disclaimer: 18+ (mdni!), Bucky x afab!reader, mirror sex, mutual obsession, marking kink, breeding kink, multiple orgasms, mirror play, cock worship, possessive sex

Author's Note: I'm just horny. Please enjoy ♡♡♡

Your body ached—in the best way possible.

The morning sun cut across the sheets, casting golden lines over your bruised hips and messy thighs. You reached down between your legs, feeling slickness still leaking from your sore, swollen pussy.

Fuck, he came so deep…

You shifted with a whimper. Your cunt was pulsing again—already needy. Already craving him.

You turned your head and there he was. Bucky. Sitting on the edge of the bed, naked, silently watching you with those steel-blue eyes. He must’ve pulled out while you were passed out.

His vibranium fingers were resting against his thigh, twitching slightly.

“Morning, doll,” he murmured, voice thick and gravelly. “I was wondering when you’d wake up.”

You looked at him with half-lidded eyes, biting your lip.

“I’m sore…”

“Yeah?” he said softly, brushing a finger along your thigh, near the bruises he’d left. “Too sore?”

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you crawled toward him and knelt between his legs. You kissed the tip of his cock, still semi-hard and already twitching from the touch.

“Need you again.”

His breath caught.

“Doll—”

“Please. I don’t care if it hurts. I want you to wreck me again. Fill me again. Make sure I can’t walk.”

⸻

Round 1 started on your knees.

It started slow—but filthy. You knelt before him, messy strands of your dirty blonde hair clinging to your flushed cheeks. Bucky’s eyes, stormy with lust, watched you through dark lashes as you lazily sucked him off, lips stretched around his thick length. Your tongue swirled, teasing the head while your hands caressed the base and his heavy balls.

“That’s it, baby doll. Just like that…” he groaned, hips rocking gently into your mouth.

His fingers tangled deep in your hair, guiding your pace. When you swallowed him whole, he nearly lost it—cursing under his breath as your throat fluttered around him.

“Fuck, sweetheart—gonna come—”

You didn’t stop, letting him spill hot and thick down your throat. You moaned around him like it was the only thing keeping you alive, and it was—your cunt ached, pulsing as you swallowed every drop.

But even before the aftershocks faded, he was already rock hard again.

“Get on the edge of the bed,” he growled, voice husky. “Ass out. Now.”

⸻

Round 2 was brutal.

Bucky didn’t wait. He bent you over the mattress, spanking your ass just enough to sting, sending heat blooming across your skin.

“Such a perfect fuckin’ view,” he muttered.

His hands—one cold vibranium, one hot flesh—gripped your waist tight enough to bruise. Each thrust drove you forward, making you cry out, your voice echoing in the room like a sinful hymn. Your slick dripped down your thighs, pooling onto the floor.

“You’re mine,” he growled, slamming deeper.

“I’m yours—fuck—I’m yours, James!” you sobbed, trembling as he bit into your shoulder to muffle his groan.

His warmth flooded you seconds later, and you came with him, shaking violently under the weight of it all.

⸻

Round 3 was slow, sensual—visual.

After a warm cloth wiped between your thighs and a few sweet kisses, Bucky pulled you onto his lap.

“You ever tried mirror play, baby?”

Breathless, you shook your head. He grinned and carried you to the full-length mirror in the corner, setting you on the floor between his knees. Both of you were bare—his dark brunette hair damp with sweat, your golden strands messy and glowing in the low light.

“Watch,” he whispered.

He spread your legs wide, the mirror reflecting every exposed inch of your flushed, trembling body. His fingers—metal and flesh—slipped between your thighs, parting your folds and working you open again. You watched your breasts bounce with every breath, your nipples red and sensitive as his free hand fondled and pinched them. His palm overfilled with your softness, groaning at how plush you were.

“Look how greedy your cunt is, baby.”

“Look how pretty you fall apart for me.”

You came on his fingers, one after another, your gaze locked to the mirror. He kissed your neck, nuzzling you like he owned you.

When he finally slid back inside, it was slow, deep, and devastating.

“Watch me fuck you,” he whispered, grinding into your soaked core. “Watch me claim you.”

You screamed his name, your orgasm wrecking you as you stared at the image of your bodies joined—his fat cock buried inside you.

⸻

Round 4 started with you climbing on top.

You climbed on top next—your hands splayed over his chest as he lay back with a smug smile. His abs flexed beneath your palms, taut and glistening with sweat.

“Come take what you need, sweetheart,” he murmured.

You lined yourself up, sinking down onto his thick cock with a choked moan. The stretch was divine. You rocked your hips slowly, letting him fill you to the brim. Bucky moaned, grabbing your hips.

“So full of me… fuck, you feel like heaven.”

You bounced harder, your thighs trembling with effort. Bucky couldn’t hold back anymore—he sat up, wrapping his strong arms around you, and thrust up into you hard enough to knock the air from your lungs.

“You were made for me, love,” he whispered. “I want you dripping with me for days.”

He came again, cock pulsing as he painted your insides, kissing you breathless.

⸻

Round 5 was against the mirror.

He wasn’t done. He bent you over the mirror now, pressing your hands flat against the cool glass. Your breath fogged it up as he slammed into you from behind. The angle was perfect—every thrust had your eyes rolling back, mouth open in a silent scream.

He had his metal hand gripping your hip, the other wrapped around your throat.

“You’re mine, baby doll. Say it again.”

“Yours, James—only yours—”

“Again,” he growled, snapping his hips.

You came violently, squirting over his cock and down your legs. Your knees buckled, but he held you steady, fucking you through the aftershocks.

“Please,” you sobbed. “I can’t—”

“Yes, you can, doll. Just one more.”

⸻

Round 6 was the softest—and the filthiest.

He laid you down like something precious, brushing hair from your face. Your body trembled, your cunt swollen and overstimulated—but you wanted more.

“One more time,” you whispered. “Fill me one more time.”

He slid in slow, deep—grinding against your sweet spot with every stroke. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, locking him in.

“Breed me, Bucky,” you moaned, arms clinging to him. “Make me yours.”

His rhythm was steady but intense, dragging the pleasure out with every inch.

“Fuck, doll. I will. I’ll give you everything.”

You came together—your final orgasm drawn out, legs shaking as his warmth flooded you one last time. Bucky collapsed on top of you, breathless, flushed, heart thudding against yours.

⸻

You both laid there, tangled in limbs and love, your bodies wrecked but your hearts racing. Sweat clung to your skin, the sheets damp and twisted beneath you. His cock had finally softened, though the way his fingers lazily traced along your curves told you he wasn’t done, not really.

His large palm cupped your breast again, possessive and warm, his thumb flicking lazily over your overstimulated nipple. You whimpered, arching instinctively into his touch.

“Still so sensitive, baby doll,” Bucky murmured with a soft, proud smirk, his voice thick with satisfaction. “My hands can barely hold ‘em. Always spilling out for me, huh?”

You chuckled breathlessly, your voice hoarse from moaning his name. “They’re yours,” you whispered, “just like the rest of me.”

Bucky leaned in, pressing a kiss to your collarbone, then to the curve of your breast, lips lingering like he was memorizing you.

“How many times was that?” you asked, blinking slowly, utterly blissed out.

He nuzzled into your chest, his scruff brushing against your swollen nipple. “Six,” he said with a smug little grin. “And I still haven’t had enough of you, sweetheart.”

His vibranium hand settled low on your belly, gently rubbing where he’d filled you over and over again, marking you from the inside out.

“You’re mine, baby doll. Gonna make sure everyone knows it,” he murmured against your skin, kissing your breast, your neck, the underside of your jaw. “Next time…”

He raised his head, locking his blown pupils onto yours with a devilish smile.

“…we’re trying every room in the tower.”

You bit your lip, eyes fluttering, already soaked again just at the thought.

“Promise?” you teased, voice shaking from the lingering aftershocks.

Bucky kissed your forehead, then your lips—deep and slow, like a seal. “Oh, I never break a promise to my girl.”

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

perhaps could you write a karen smut fic? like, reader is tutoring karen (established relationship or not, up to you!!) and it eventually gets a bit spicy? thank you!

You Were The Best

|| Karen Shetty x fem!reader

|| Warnings; smut, mirror use, praise kink, Karen receiving, biting, fingering, orgasm

|| Summary; when helping Karen with her geography homework, reader can't help getting a little distracted.

Requests closed!

Started; November 13th

Finished; November 13th

~~~

Karen had you over at her place; being her girlfriend often meant helping her out with homework. But you hardly minded. Besides, it meant that you got to spend more time with her. Tonight's homework was geography, which wasn't too bad. You guys were colouring in and naming a world map. Something that you would have a test on later this week.

"And over here is Canada," You pointed to the country above America, looking at Karen to make sure she understood. She gave you a nod and went to write it, but paused when she realized she couldn't spell the word. Karen looked up at you expectantly. You laughed a bit and gave her a gentle smile," C-a-n-a-d-a." You spelt it out, pausing after each word and waiting until she had it written down. You checked it over and nodded, giving her a kiss on the cheek that made her smile.

Your eyes look into her own and you can't help but take a moment to admire her. Karen was stunning, you loved her more than you could ever say into words. And she felt just the same. Before you knew it, your lips were against hers as you kissed her. Hand wrapping around her waist, palm pressing into the small of her back. Pulling her impossibly closer.

Karen kissed you back with ease. She loved kissing you, she loved you. You were her everything. And she didn't always know how to express that. But she really tried. After all, Karen only wanted the best for you. Because in her eyes, you were the best. The best thing that could have possibly happened to her. Even Gretchen was fond of you, which honestly? Was more than enough confirmation for Karen.

Lips danced against lips, soft sounds filled the room as you got more handsy with each other. Then, in your fogged one track mind, you got an idea. Having fantasied about it many times. You parted the kiss, looking Karen up and down with a smirk. "C'mere." You took her hand, pulling her over to the body mirror she had.

She looked a little confused by the whole thing; but followed you despite that. That's just how Karen was. Even if she had no idea what was really going on, she trusted you and would follow you everywhere. You smiled at that and got each other's clothes off. Karen watched as your fingers worked with the fabric, then pulled them off her. "What are you-?" She had started to ask, but you answered her question by pushing Karen against the mirror. Karen's arms rested against the cold surface, providing some space between them. Allowing her to look at herself.

You pressed up against Karen's back, an almost purr like sound leaving your lips. Watching her in the mirror. You moved her hair aside, planting sloppy kisses to her neck. Leaving occasional bites," look at you." You murmured against her skin and Karen shivered," so beautiful. And so... wet.. all for me." Your fingers went down between her folds, feeling and hearing the wetness. Seeing it in the mirror as your fingers played with her. Pressing Karen's clit. Gliding along her folds with feather like touches. Bringing moans from Karen's mouth. Her legs trembled under your touch, backing up further against you. Trying to be as close as she could.

You couldn't help but grin, feeling wet yourself. But you kept your focus on the girl in front of you. Once she was wet enough, your finger slipped in with ease. One finger first, letting her get used to it. Then another before pumping at a slow pace. Karen tensed up at the feeling, unable to do anything but moan and tremble. You kept it slow, letting her take the time she needed. Then gradually moved faster. Faster. Until all that filled the room was the sounds of Karen's moans and the sloppy wet sounds your fingers caused every time you pumped into her.

Karen arched her back into you, your name falling from her lips as you kissed her neck. Murmuring sweet praises. It didn't take Karen long for her to cum on your fingers, legs trembling more than they'd been before. You helped her through her high before settling and helping her clean up. Yeah, Karen loved you.

[babyboy555777]

Overheard

Summary: Rafe over hears you and Sarah talking about your night at the beach with a hookup.

CW: possessive Rafe, rough sex, name calling, unprotected sex (wrap before tap), bit of choking and hair pulling, forced to stay quiet, mirror sex. (Should be it)

(Did not proofread bc this took me so long already.)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You and Sarah had been friends for years. You moved to Outer Banks as a child and took quite a liking to Sarah and her family. You were always known to drop in whenever you felt needed. You shared many nights at their house and basically became a part of the family.

On this specific day it was like any other. You hopped in your jeep and quickly sped off to Tannyhill. Soon arriving in the circle driveway of the mansion you quickly got out and headed to the door knocking loud, so you were heard.

The door was swung open by none other than the snarky stuck-up brother of your best friend, Rafe Cameron. “You don’t have to knock.” He sighed “you basically live here anyway.” He scolded you. You pushed past him and into the entrance way of the house.

“Where’s Sarah?” Rafe shut the door and then pointed up the stairs to her room. “Where she always is waiting for you.” You nodded your head at him giving him one last look before making your way up to her room. He watched as you quickly sprinted up the stairs. Watching as your hips moved and how your ass was in perfect view.

He shook his head relieving the thought of you knowing how wrong it was. Soon he made his way up the stairs as well to his own room that was until he heard you talking in a not so quiet voice to his sister.

"I wouldn't say it was awful, just not what I wanted." Sarah cocked a brow to you. "Well, what did you want. I mean you wanted to have sex with him, right? What more could you want. You practically begged me for his number." She chuckled.

"Yes, I did." Rafe moved closer to the crack in the door leaning his ear closer. He listened closely to your words. "What does she mean" he thought to himself.

Yes, Rafe knew you, but he thought he knew you well enough. He never saw you as the type to beg for sex with someone, or much less really want it.

In his head you always were the type to never come off as sexual but definitely not innocent. He truly just thought that in this world full of sex you had no idea what you were doing or had any care for it, and he was so wrong.

"Okay yes I wanted it. Like the party last week, I wanted to just be dragged off with him somewhere because I thought he'd fuck the shit out of me. See that's what I wanted." You crossed your arms and huffed.

"Okay, then what happened that you didn't like? Was it the fact it was on the beach or like what?"

"I guess the best way I could put it is I wanted it to me more filled with lust and desire. I wanted it to be rough and I wanted to not be able to walk today." You chuckled along with Sarah.

"Well how did it go for you?" You sighed trying to think back to last night. "Well, he took me out on the beach, and he had a blanket with him. Talking happens and whatever and I end up straddling his lap."

Sarah nodded her head waiting for you to continue, but Rafe stood out the door as he held his breath. He was pissed. You fucking some other man and he didn't even do it right pissed him off more. But he stayed quiet.

"We made out a bit and I started to grind on him a bit. Obviously, he got a rise up, so I got all cocky and pulled his dick out. After a few moments of me just doing my thing, I pulled my bikini bottoms off and rode him. He was like..." You paused trying to find your words.

"It was like he never wanted it to end and not saying I don't like that, but I asked if he could get on top and we'd go faster he just straight up refused. Which basically dried me up and I didn't even want to do it anymore."

Sarah tried to hold back her laughter. "Hey, it's not funny I'm being dead serious." You smacked her arm but laughed as well.

Rafe was the only one not laughing. Red filled his face with anger, and he scoffed at your words. "Didn't even fuck her the way she wanted. What a pussy." He thought.

"Well maybe you'll find someone who just rocks your world." Sarah smirked. "Yeah, as if." But only if you knew what little plan Rafe had planted into his mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That same day you had planned on staying the night with Sarah. Of course, to everyone in the house it was no surprise. It was now late at night and Sarah was asleep. However, you sat awake in her bed scrolling mindlessly on your phone till a text popped up.

"Come here."

You read the text from Rafe. Confusion spread across your face. You texted back.

"Sarahs asleep. Where are you?"

"My room. Just come here you won't wake her, she's a heavy sleeper."

You sighed and turned off your phone placing it on the nightstand beside you. Slowly you rose up from the bed making your way to the bedroom door making sure to stay as quiet as possible.

You looked back at Sarah one last time before closing the door. You slowly tiptoed your way down the hall to Rafe's room. You raised your hand to the door knocking slow and quiet. Soon Rafe opened up the door nodding his head telling you to come in.

As you walked in you looked around the room that was dimly lit by the small lamp setting you realized you had never seen Rafe's room before. "I have never been in here." You turn back and look at him leaning up against the door. "Cleaner than I thought." You chuckled.

He shrugged. "Don't know why you'd ever think that. I believe I come off as a clean person." He paused. "Unlike you." You looked at him confused for a moment as he stepped closer to you, his rich cologne filled your nostrils.

"I heard you. Talking to my sister earlier today." He walked behind you. "How you wanted to be fucked hard." He leaned in closer to your ear whispering. "How you want it to be filled with lust and desire."

His words sent chills down your spine and your own words choked up. "So, fucking dirty and here I was thinking you didn't care about these things." His hands slowly made their way to your hips giving a slight squeez.

"Rafe..." You spoke barley above a whisper. He smirked against your neck placing a small kiss right below your ear. "Is that what you want? To be fucked like the whore you are?"

Your legs squeez together trying to release some of the tension that was building up. You let out a shaky breath as one of his hands trail down to the waistband of your sleep shorts.

"Is this what you want?" He whispered. You nodded your head squeezing your eyes shut as he played with the waist band. "Words."

"Yes, I want this." He slid his hands down your shorts. Two of his fingers rubbed against your folds. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in. He rubbed circles around your clit as your hips moved forward chasing his touch.

You let out a small moan and immediately Rafe slaps his hand onto your mouth. "What you want the whole house to hear? As much as I'd love to hear your pretty little moans you need to keep quiet."

You nodded your head frantically. "Good girl." Rafe then removes his hand from you making you whine at his loss of touch. He stepped back from you grabbing your hand and leading you to the bed. He pushed you down on the bed and you let out a gasp.

He crawled on top of you and basically ripped off your clothes and his throwing them on the floor. Rafe started to kiss your neck earning a small gasp to leave your lips.

"Rafe please..." you whine out. "What do you want?" He smirked against your neck. The words couldn't seem to leave your lips as he left a bite on your sweet spot right below your ear.

"Don't go quiet on me now." He rose up to look at you. "Tell me what you want." You started to bite your lip at the sight of him. The sly smirk planted across his face. His shoulder muscles showing more featured as he held himself up.

"Fuck me Rafe...." As soon as the words slipped from your lips it felt like sweet honey on his tongue. He spread your legs open, and you wrapped them around his waist trying to pull him in.

"So needy?" He chuckled making you want him even more. "Rafe..." You breathed out. "Words sweetheart." He smirked once again. "Rafe please fuck me." Your wish was his command.

He lined himself up to you and without warning slammed into you making you let out a loud cry. He quickly slapped his hand over your mouth. "Shut the fuck up." He groaned out.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he thrusted into your cunt hard and fast. "You feel so fucking good. Holy shit." His words were breathless as if he blurted them out of pure pleasure.

His hand still planted on your mouth as the other held your waist tightly. You threw your head back at all the new pleasure rising in you. Rafe looked down at you smirking at the absolute complete mess you were in this moment.

"You like how I fuck you. I bet that pussy boy could never be like this with you." You moaned against his hand as the words leaped off his tongue.

As Rafe pounded into you harder and faster the headboard started to move. He let go of your waist grabbing the board holding himself up as he stayed covering your mouth. You watched his muscles tensed and sweat glistened on his body.

All the pleasure plus the view of him really added onto you forgetting about your shitty hookup. "Fuck..." He groaned out throwing his head back and closing his eyes.

In an instant Rafe grabbed you off the bed still fucking you and took you into the big bathroom inside his bedroom. He turned you around facing the mirror. "I want you to see that pretty little face when you cum for me. A face you'll never see without me fucking you like this."

He held your mouth again making you look at the beautiful mess you were in the mirror. Him pounding in and out of you. Your breast bouncing. Him making direct eye contact with you through the mirror itself.

Muffed moans and him slapping his thighs against your ass echoed through the tile walls. As you could feel your peak approaching you closed your eyes. "No." In one swift move he wrapped his hands around the back of your hair forcing your eyes open to see yourself.

He smirked as he watched you bite your lip holding back you loud beautiful moans. With a few sloppier thrust Rafe was chasing his own high. Throwing his head back as he pounded into you. "Fuck me." He groaned out.

Your high had reached his peak biting your lip so hard blood started to form. Rafe grabbed you pulling you against your chest holding your neck. "Come on baby." He whispered in your ear making you crash.

Your legs started to shake and the image of you two in the mirror was all too much to handle. Rafe started to come down from his own high. His thrust and movements slowing down as his hot liquid shot inside you.

Rafe turned your head towards his planting a sloppy wet kiss on your lips and he pulled out of you. Rafe pulled away, and you both panted for air more than ever. "That's how you should be fucked." A smirk planted across his lips.

[sai-int]

officer!price

the red and blue lights flash in your rearview, and you groan, already slowing to pull over in the shoulder, lowering your too-loud music. this stretch of road’s quiet, and you know exactly who it is. small town, officer john price, and it’s not your first rodeo with him.

his boots crunch on broken asphalt, the flicker of the headlights catching the glint of his badge. you roll the window down, already half annoyed, but then you see him, and that’s when the irritation starts to fade.

“license and registration,” he says, voice smooth, like he’s in no rush.

you roll your eyes but reach for the glove box anyway. “what's it this time, price?”

his brow quirks. “that's officer price, to you, hun. know how fast you were going?” he asks, leaning down just enough to make his face fill the window.

“barely over the limit,” you reply, your voice sharp but not entirely convincing.

he hums like he’s thinking it over, then steps back. “step out of the car.”

you laugh under your breath. “seriously?”

he arches an eyebrow. “you got a problem with that?”

not really. not at all.

you open the door, sliding out with an indignant roll of your eyes, but you can’t stop the way your heart beats a little faster when he reaches for you. hands on your hips, guiding your chest flush with the hood of his car, like he’s done this a hundred times (he has).

“reckless again,” he says, voice rougher than usual as his hands slide down your waist and hips, searching for weapons. “i oughta teach you a lesson one of these days.”

you smirk, unable to fight the way your hips press backwards in search of his, “teach me, then.”

he sighs like a disappointed dad before tutting. “put your hands behind your back, sweetheart.”

edit: one shot for this is here

[lvrgurlblobbu]

dolled up

“all dolled up just for me, my beautiful wife.”

zayne x fem!reader

⤿ part of snow angel series : )

⤿ cw: MDNI, p in v, thigh riding, cunnilingus, fingering, creampie, breeding kink, mirror sex, spanking, rough sex, sprinkle of brat tamer!zayne

⤿ word count: 5.2k

⤿ synopsis: zayne has been having a rough week due to multiple surgeries, meetings, and tons of paper works so one night, you decided to give him a little surprise : )

ao3

You were lounging in the living room, scrolling through your phone while the television murmured in the background. The house had been quiet the past few days since Hyacinth decided to join her grandparents—Zayne’s parents—on their four-day trip. A small smile tugged at your lips as her grandmother sent a photo of your five-year-old daughter beaming at the camera, cradling a tiny kitten in her arms. The caption read, “She wants to take the kitten home.”

You glanced at the calendar. They were due back in two days, and you couldn’t wait to hug her again and hear all about their little adventure.

You went through your other notifications, eyes scanning for your husband’s name. These past few weeks had been hectic for Zayne—back-to-back surgeries, endless meetings, and a mountain of paperwork waiting on his desk. The exhaustion was written all over his face, dark circles shadowing his eyes. You’d been gently urging him to take a day off, but being the workaholic he was, he always found a reason to decline. He insisted he couldn’t step away, not wanting to fall behind on his responsibilities.

You were about to take a nap when you heard the doorbell ring. You immediately sat up and padded toward the door. As you peeked through the peephole, you realized it was just a delivery. Opening the door, the delivery man gave you a polite nod and handed over an electronic pad for you to sign. You signed your name and thanked him, then took the medium-sized box into your hands. It wasn’t heavy, but it felt like something carefully packed. Closing the door behind you, you walked back into the living room and placed the box on the coffee table.

You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. When you checked the notification and saw it was from a clothing brand, your lips curled into a small smirk. Wasting no time, you grabbed a cutter to unbox the package that had just arrived. As you peeled back the flaps, a smile spread across your face—it was the lingerie set you’d ordered online. Without a second thought, you picked up the box and made your way to your shared bedroom, eager to try it on.

It was a pastel pink babydoll-style nightdress made from sheer, lightweight fabric.The bust area features embroidered floral lace with underwire support and satin ribbon detailing in the center. It made your cleavage pop due to its padding. Thin double shoulder straps add a dainty touch, and the skirt flows gently down about a few inches from your intimate area, ending in layered ruffled hems for a soft, romantic look. It also came with a laced pink thong that goes well with the lingerie, as well as an accessory which is a pearl choker and a simple necklace with a small pendant.

And of course, being the little tease you are, you couldn’t resist. After slipping into the delicate lingerie, you sat on the edge of the bed, angled your phone just right, and snapped a mirror selfie. With a sly smile, you sent it to Zayne—who was still at work—along with a message that read: “When are you coming home? I miss you...”

It hadn’t even been five minutes when his reply came through.

“Sweetheart, you look gorgeous. However, I’m in the middle of an important meeting right now.”

You bit your lip, amusement dancing in your eyes. Switching to the front camera, you adjusted the angle and took another photo—this time showing only from your chest down to your thighs, the sheer fabric leaving little to the imagination. With a light tap, you sent it off.

Not long after, another message lit up your screen.

“I’ll be home in ten minutes.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, setting your phone down as you settled back on the bed. Mission accomplished.

***

You heard your front door and that signaled that Zayne is already home. With a soft giggle, you stepped out of your shared bedroom then went downstairs to greet him.

“Hello, my love—“ He was suddenly taken aback and his coat dropped to the floor when he saw you standing before him, wearing the lingerie you bought. He cleared his throat before speaking. “Aren’t you cold?”

“Hm? Why would I be? I feel perfectly fine..” You answered before placing a peck on his lips, “Welcome home.”

You caught the faint flush creeping up his neck, his ears turning a telltale shade of red as his eyes roamed over your figure. His gaze faltered, locking onto the curve of your hips—specifically, the absence of that laced thong you’d been teasing him with earlier. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, trying (and failing) to keep his expression neutral.

You bit your lip, barely containing a giggle at the way his composure unraveled.

“Hungry?” you asked, your voice low and teasing, the double meaning lingering in the air.

He gave a slow, slightly dazed nod.

You reached out and laced your fingers with his, giving his hand a gentle tug. “Come on, then.”

Guiding him to the kitchen, you revealed the small dinner setup you’d prepared—candles flickering, plates warm, and everything in place. The contrast between the tension in the air and the peaceful domesticity made it all the more intimate.

You both sat down to eat, the silence between you charged but comfortable, like a storm waiting just past the horizon.

As you finished, the two of you did your usual routine— wiping the table, washing the dishes, placing the leftovers inside the fridge.. However, the way his eyes flicker to you, the clenching and unclenching of his hand, his reddened ears, and deep breaths doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

Currently, the both of you are enjoying ice cream for dessert, the quiet clink of spoons filling the cozy air between you. The soft lighting casts a gentle glow, making everything feel just a little more intimate.

You glance at him, a small smile playing on your lips as you tilt your head.

“So, how are you, my love?”

He looks up from his bowl, his expression calm, almost unreadable. He gives a small shrug, stirring the ice cream around absently.

“Same old,” he replies casually. “Had three surgeries, two meetings and finished the paperworks that was sitting at my desk for days. How about you?”

He scoops another spoonful without looking at you, but there’s the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth—like he’s trying not to let on too much.

“It was fine, just missing our little girl. Your mother sent a picture earlier, Hyacinth is cradling a tiny kitten in her arms and she wants to take it home with her..” A quiet laugh slips from your lips, fond and wistful, as you glance at him.

“I have no objections to that,” he said smoothly—but just then, you noticed a small smear of ice cream at the corner of his lips. Instead of reaching out to wipe it away, you leaned in slowly, eyes locked on his, the air thick with unspoken tension. Your lips brushed the corner of his mouth as you licked the bit of ice cream off, lingering just a second longer than necessary.

When you pulled back, a playful smile tugged at your lips.

“You missed a spot,” you whispered.

His eyes darkened slightly, jaw tightening just a fraction as he stared at you, that neutral composure starting to crack.

“[Name].. Love..” He muttered, gaze locking into yours. “What?” you respond, a small smile curling on your lips.

“You’re being such a tease..”

“I am not…” you denied with mock innocence as you hopped off the stool, deliberately swaying your hips on the way to the fridge. Bending down slowly, you opened it with an exaggerated hum. “Hmm, what should we—ah!”

You yelped softly as a sudden, firm smack landed on your ass. Glancing over your shoulder with a smirk, you found him standing behind you, eyes dark with intent.

“Oh?” you teased, scooting your bare ass back until it pressed against the hard outline of his clothed crotch. You gave the slightest roll of your hips, just enough to feel the sharp breath he drew in behind you.

Before you could even process his next move, strong arms wrapped around your waist, and in one smooth motion, he hoisted you over his shoulder.

“Hey—!” you started, laughing, but his voice cut through, low and full of heat.

“I’ve had enough of this teasing, my love…” he growled as he began striding purposefully toward the stairs. “Let’s see if you can hold onto that attitude of yours.”

You gasped, heart pounding with anticipation, the fridge long forgotten as he carried you up to your shared bedroom like a man on a mission.

As you both enter your room, he strides towards your bed before gently tossing you to lie down, the mattress dipping beneath you as he looms over, eyes dark with intent. You used your arms to anchor yourself as you stared at him..

“Hm??” You teased, brow raising at him as hig gaze trails from your face, to your chest, and down to your exposed cunt. Then you felt his fingers teasing your folds which caused you to whimper..

“Z-Zayne..” you whimpered as he began to massage your wet folds..

“Yes, my love? Wouldn’t want your effort to go to waste, hm?” He whispered as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your cheek. “My wife waited for me to come home dressed like this, all dolled up just for me. I am a lucky man.” He muttered before his lips met yours, melting in a passionate kiss.

His lips moved against yours with slow, deliberate tenderness, savoring every second like he’d been starved of your touch. Then, you felt him insert his finger inside your pussy which made you moan, he used it to deepen the kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips to taste you fully—hungry, aching, possessive.

A soft moan escaped as he pressed closer, his body flush with yours, the weight of him grounding you in the moment. He pulled back just slightly, his lips brushing over yours as he whispered, “You have no idea what it does to me, seeing you like this… knowing you’re mine.” he whispered as his kisses trailed down your neck, nibbling on your sensitive skin. Hard enough to the point he’s certain that it’ll leave a mark.

Then he pulled back slightly, taking in the sight of you— face flushed with lust and desire, lips kiss-swollen and parted, chest rising and falling with every shallow breath. His eyes roamed over you, dark and hungry, as if trying to commit every detail to memory.

“God, look at you,” he murmured, almost to himself. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, admiring the way it trembled beneath his touch. “So beautiful… and all mine.”

“Z-Zayne— ahh!” You arched your back as you felt him fasten the thrusts of his fingers in your wet heat, back arching as you gripped the sheets.

“That’s it, say my name.. My love..” He mumbled as his kisses went down your pussy, “Let me have a taste of you, wife.” He whispered before he used his tongue to lick your slit. His fingers still pumping in your pussy, while his other hand is gripping your hips to keep it from moving.

“Mmphh!” You moaned as he continued to flick his tongue against you, his fingers curling inside as he kissed and lapped on your sensitive flesh. Then, you felt the tension building in your core and you’re sure that he feels it— the way your legs tremble and pussy clenched around his digits.

However, it seems like he has other plans because just as you were about to come, he suddenly retracted his fingers and lips from your pussy, leaving it soaking wet and hole gaping.

“Zayne?!” you exclaimed, chest heaving and your pussy aching from your denied orgasm.

“What?” he said with a soft chuckle, his eyes never leaving yours as his fingers worked slowly down the buttons of his polo. The fabric parted to reveal the firm lines of his chest, and your breath caught just a little at the sight.

Once the shirt was off, he moved to sit at the edge of the bed, his posture relaxed but eyes burning with intent. He patted his thigh, gaze smoldering. “Come here,” he murmured, voice low and coaxing. “Right where you belong.”

You moved toward him, each step feeling heavier with anticipation. The moment you settled onto his lap, his hands immediately found your hips, pulling you flush against him. The heat between your bodies was undeniable, electric.

He let out a quiet, satisfied sigh as his hands slid up your sides, fingers brushing the fabric clinging to your skin. “There we go,” he whispered against your neck, placing a slow, open-mouthed kiss just below your ear. “You feel so good… so warm.”

One hand cradled the small of your back, holding you close, while the other traced slow circles along your thigh. “I could stay like this forever,” he murmured, lips trailing soft kisses along your jaw. “But you’re making it very hard to be patient.”

“Zayne.. please—“ you pleaded as he trailed wet kisses on your neck.

“Please what? Use your words sweetheart..” He replied, his hands traveling down your thigh then to your ass, cupping it gently. “Do you want to come, sweetheart?” He asked in which you nodded in response.

“Only good girls deserve to come, do you think you’ve been good? Hm?”

“Y-Yes, please, my love—ah!” You yelped as his hand came down on your ass with a sharp, unexpected smack. The sound echoed in the room, followed by a rush of heat blooming beneath your skin.

“Wrong answer.” He hand lingered, soothing the sting with a gentle caress before gripping you firmly, possessively. “Do good girls send suggestive pictures of themselves? Because I don’t think so, good girls earn a reward and what happened to bratty ones, like you?”

“Mm… Sorry—ah!” you gasped as his hand connected with your ass once more, the sharp sting making your hips jolt against him. The second smack left your skin tingling, heat flaring both where he touched and deep in your core.

He grinned against your neck, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You’re not sorry,” he growled playfully, his voice thick with arousal. “You like it when I make you squirm. Since you wanted to come so bad, work for it.” He said as he guided your hips to grind on his clothed thigh, his hand finding its way to massage your clit while the other was cupping your breasts. Then he tugged the lingerie down, exposing your bare chest before leaning in to suck on your sensitive bud.

You clung to his shoulder for support, grinding desperately against his thigh. Your head fell back, a moan escaping you as the friction of your bare cunt dragging over the rough fabric of his pants sent lightning through your nerves. Every roll of your hips made your legs tremble, but you couldn’t stop—even if you wanted to.

He watched you, eyes dark with hunger, letting you use him, letting you fall apart. His fingers, which had been expertly circling your clit just moments before, suddenly withdrew. You whimpered at the loss, your hips stuttering, needing that contact again—but he had other plans.

His hand slid upward with deliberate slowness, trailing over your stomach, grazing your ribs, before finally cupping your breasts—firm, possessive. His thumbs brushed over your nipples, coaxing them into tight peaks. Then he leaned in close, lips brushing your ear.

“Touch yourself,” he growled, low and commanding.

Before you could even think to hesitate, his mouth closed around one aching nipple, tongue teasing, teeth grazing just enough to make your back arch. His free hand kneaded your other breast, palm warm, fingers rough with need as they rolled and tugged your nipple between them. You gasped, body torn between the heat building in your core and the overwhelming pleasure of his mouth on you.

You slid a shaky hand down between your thighs, fingers slipping over your soaked folds. The contrast of your own touch, slick and hot, while his tongue dragged over your skin, made you cry out. You rubbed small circles against your clit, pressure building again too fast, too strong.

"Good girl," he murmured against your breast, voice vibrating through your chest. "Don’t stop. I want to feel you fall apart on me."

“Z-Zayne... Mm, near…” you moaned, the words trembling from your lips, barely coherent through the haze of pleasure flooding your body.

He growled low in his throat at the sound of his name like that—half-whimpered, soaked in desperation. His teeth grazed your nipple, then he sucked hard, sending another jolt straight to your core. His hand tightened on your breast as he glanced up at you, eyes heavy with lust and control.

“Then come for me,” he rasped against your skin, voice thick and raw. “Don’t hold back—I want to feel it. Want to see you fall apart on me.”

His thigh tensed beneath you, giving you more pressure, and your fingers moved faster on your clit, chasing the wave that threatened to break. Every breath you took was laced with fire. The world narrowed down to him—his mouth, his voice, the way his body held you like he’d never let go.

Your moans pitched higher, body trembling as your climax surged, sharp and overwhelming. Your hips jerked against his thigh as the pleasure crested, stars exploding behind your eyes.

“Zayne—!” you cried out as you came, body locking up, then shuddering hard against him.

He didn’t let up. He kept his mouth on you, kept his hand steady, drawing out every pulse of your orgasm until you were a boneless mess in his arms, chest heaving, fingers still twitching where they’d been between your thighs. Then he pulled back just enough to look at you—flushed, wrecked, glowing with satisfaction. A slow, wicked smile curved his lips.

“Beautiful,” he murmured. “You should see yourself when you come for me.”

Then he lifted you with ease, strong arms wrapping around your waist as if you weighed nothing, and laid you back onto the bed with a gentleness that contrasted the heat still crackling in the air. The sheets felt cool against your overheated skin, but your eyes stayed locked on him, hungry, dazed.

He stood at the edge of the bed, gaze dragging over your body like a promise, dark and slow.

Without a word, he began to undress.

First, he discarded his unbuttoned polo. The fabric hit the floor somewhere behind him, forgotten. Your breath caught at the sight of him—broad chest, toned muscles, skin flushed with desire. Your thighs pressed together instinctively. Next came the belt. The soft click of the buckle sent another rush of heat through you. His fingers worked with calm precision, sliding it free, letting it hang from one hand for just a second too long—like he wanted you to imagine what else it could be used for.

Then he dropped it.

You watched as he unbuttoned his pants, the zipper dragging down with a low rasp. He let them fall, the fabric pooling around his feet. He stepped out of them, slow and deliberate, eyes never leaving yours. Now, all that remained between you and him was the tight press of his briefs—already tented with the unmistakable outline of his cock. Your mouth went dry.

His smirk deepened as he caught your stare. “Like what you see?” he asked, voice low, teasing.

But you could only nod, breathless, already aching for more.

He wrapped his hand around his cock, giving it a few slow, deliberate strokes. His eyes never left yours, watching your every reaction—the way your chest rose and fell, the way your thighs shifted, needy and slick with anticipation.

The sight of you spread out beneath him, still trembling from your last orgasm, clearly drove him wild. Then, with the grace of a predator, he crawled onto the bed—each movement controlled, powerful. The mattress dipped under his weight as he moved closer, until he was hovering above you, arms braced on either side of your head.

His cock rested against your stomach, hot and heavy, pulsing with need. You could feel the heat of him, the sheer size of him, and it made your mouth go dry all over again. He leaned down, lips brushing your jaw, then your neck, trailing kisses that made your skin burn.

"You’re so wet for me," he murmured against your throat, voice thick with praise and hunger. "You ready for more?"

His hips rolled ever so slightly, letting his length drag along your slick folds, teasing your entrance without giving in just yet. The sensation pulled a needy whimper from you, your hands gripping his arms, nails digging in.

"Say it," he whispered, mouth ghosting over your lips. "Tell me what you want."

“You… I need you, Zayne,” you breathed, voice barely more than a whisper as your hands rose to cup his cheeks, fingers trembling slightly with need.

He leaned into your touch, his eyes softening just for a moment, grounding you in the middle of all that burning heat. He turned his head and pressed a tender kiss to the center of your palm, as if anchoring himself there—before his gaze darkened once more.Then, without another word, he shifted his hips and thrust into you in one smooth, deep stroke.

You gasped—your back arching as he filled you completely, the stretch making your whole body shudder. He slid in with effortless ease, your slick heat welcoming him, clenching around him like your body already knew exactly who he was meant to belong to.

“Fuck,” he groaned, voice low and ragged, forehead resting briefly against yours as he held still inside you, letting you feel every thick inch of him.

The air between you buzzed with heat, your breaths mingling, your bodies already molding together like puzzle pieces that had finally locked into place.

“You feel like heaven,” he murmured against your lips, his voice reverent. “So tight… so perfect.”

You could only moan in response, your legs wrapping around his waist, urging him closer, deeper—already desperate for more. And then he began to move.

He didn’t ease into it.

Once he had you stretched around him, gasping and shaking beneath him, he pulled back—just enough to make you feel the loss—then slammed back in with a force that made the headboard rattle against the wall.

You cried out, nails digging into his shoulders, but he didn’t slow down. His pace was relentless, each thrust hard and deep, driving the breath from your lungs. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mixed with the wet, obscene sounds of your body welcoming him again and again.

“God—Zayne!” you gasped, legs tightening around him. Every time he bottomed out, you swore you saw stars. The way he filled you, stretched you, claimed you—it was almost too much.

But you didn’t want him to stop. You wanted more.

He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head with one hand, his grip firm, dominant. His other hand slid between your bodies, fingers finding your clit and circling it with quick, rough precision.

“You wanted this?” he growled into your ear, voice dark and wicked. “Then take it. Take every fucking inch.” Your back arched off the bed, body twitching under the dual assault of his cock pounding into you and his fingers working you to the edge all over again.

“Such a good girl,” he snarled, voice breaking with lust. “So wet, so fucking tight. You were made for this—made for me.”

You were unraveling fast, the pleasure coming in crashing waves. Your walls clenched around him, pulling him deeper, tighter.

“Come for me,” he demanded, thrusts growing faster, rougher, slamming into your sweet spot over and over. “Let me feel you fall apart.”

And with one more stroke—just right, just perfect—you shattered, your orgasm ripping through you like a storm. You screamed his name, body convulsing under him, toes curling, thighs shaking.

But he didn’t stop. He kept going—riding you through your high, chasing his own. His rhythm grew messy, desperate, and then with a strangled groan, he thrust one final time, deep and hard, before spilling inside you, his whole body trembling above yours.

Even as his body trembled, even with his release still pulsing inside you, he stayed hard—still hungry. He growled low against your throat, teeth grazing your skin as he pulled out slowly, leaving you slick and aching.

“Not done with you,” he muttered, voice thick, breath hot against your ear. “Get on all fours.”

Your body obeyed before your mind caught up—already sensitive, already spent, but somehow still needing more. You turned over, chest pressed to the sheets, ass lifted for him, trembling slightly as the cool air hit your slick heat.

Then he grabbed your hips, dragging you back until you were perfectly positioned—back arched, legs spread, completely exposed. But it wasn’t until he reached forward and tilted your chin toward the side that you realized what he wanted.

Your eyes met your reflection in the mirror across the room.

You looked wrecked—flushed cheeks, swollen lips, bite marks blooming on your neck and collarbone. Your hair was wild, sweat-slicked skin glowing, thighs streaked with your combined release. You barely recognized the desperate, cockdrunk expression staring back at you.

And it only made the heat between your legs flare up all over again.

“Look at yourself,” Zayne growled from behind you, lining himself up once more. “Look at how fucked out you are—and I’m still not finished.”

Then he slammed back into you.

You cried out, eyes flying wide at the sight of him driving into you from behind—his hips snapping against your ass, cock filling you just as deep, just as hard as before. The mirror gave you everything—his expression twisted in lust, the way your body took him like it was made for this, the obscene wet sounds of him thrusting into your still-dripping cunt.

His hands gripped your hips bruisingly tight as he pounded into you, relentless, unmerciful. Your arms gave out, collapsing you to your elbows, but you couldn’t look away from the mirror—you watched yourself come undone all over again, watched him ruin you.

“This is what you wanted right? Dressing all dolled up for me. You knew exactly what you were doing. Teasing me. Tempting me. Acting like you were so innocent.” Smack! “You’re acting like this on purpose,” he growled, voice gravel and heat as he slammed into you again, making your knees slide forward on the sheets.” Smack! “Just so I’d punish you, isn’t that right?” Smack!

You cried out, nails clawing at the bedding, body trembling as he fucked you with brutal, punishing thrusts. Your cheek pressed against the mattress, mouth open and panting—but you couldn’t speak. You didn’t need to. Your body answered for you.

He reached down and yanked your hair back, forcing your head up—forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror again. Your eyes were glassy, your mouth swollen, tears streaking your cheeks, and your cunt was stretched wide around him, dripping and ruined.

He slammed into you again—hard enough to knock the breath from your lungs.

“You wanted this,” he growled. “You wanted to be bent over and fucked until you couldn’t think. That’s what you really want, isn’t it? To feel me cum so deep inside you it sticks.”

“Yes—fuck, yes,” you cried out, the words spilling out broken and raw as another orgasm coiled tight in your core, overwhelming and impossible to fight. He released your hair and grabbed both your hips, dragging you back onto him with a bruising grip as he pounded into you mercilessly.

“Touch yourself,” he ordered through gritted teeth, voice sharp with dominance.

Your hand slid beneath you, fingers finding your clit and circling fast, desperate, as the pressure started building again—faster this time, messier, your entire body already primed to snap.

“That's it,” he hissed. “Fuck yourself on my cock. Watch yourself fall apart.”

And you did.

You moaned his name, loud and broken, as another orgasm ripped through you, your body clenching around him so hard it made him curse. You trembled violently, gasping, eyes locked on your reflection—completely gone, completely his.

He fucked you through it with savage thrusts until he was right there again—grunting, swearing, then jerking inside you as he came again, spilling deep, hips grinding against your ass as if trying to get even deeper.

Then, you felt him relax, his breaths slowing, and the tension in his body eased. He pressed gentle, lingering kisses to your shoulders, as if grounding himself in the moment, in the connection between you two.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice tender, a contrast to the roughness that had just passed between you. His hand, warm and steady, moved to guide you closer, helping you adjust as he slowly slid himself out of you.

You could barely form words as you leaned into his chest, your body still trembling from the intensity. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, both of you finding comfort in the warmth of each other. The soft rhythm of his breath in your ear was grounding, making everything feel calmer, safer. He brushed a few strands of hair away from your face as he cupped your cheeks, his touch gentle, almost reverent.

“Was I too rough on you?” he asked, concern clearly etched across his face. His brows furrowed slightly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort.

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his tenderness, the way he cared for you so deeply, so intently. With a soft smile, you shook your head slightly, your fingers lightly resting on his hand where it cupped your cheek.

“No, I’m alright, my love,” you murmured, your voice soft and reassuring, the words a quiet promise.

He exhaled deeply, his lips pressing softly against your forehead in a kiss full of affection. You could feel the relief in his touch, the weight of his concern lifting as he held you even closer, just letting the silence settle around you both.

"I love you..." he mumbled, his voice warm and tender as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, holding you close against him. His arms wrapped around you like a protective shield, his heartbeat steady and comforting.

"Let’s just stay like this for a while, okay?" His words were soft, filled with a quiet yearning for peace, as if he didn’t want to let go of this moment.

"I love you too," you whispered back, your voice barely above a breath as you snuggled closer, your body melting into his. The words felt like an affirmation, a bond that only grew stronger with every passing second. You felt safe, cared for, and utterly at peace in his arms.

dividers by: @uzzmachiato @anitalenia

[innorality]

All I’m saying is don’t let Stack get access to a mirror when he’s fucking you. Especially if it’s right opposite the bed. You’re gonna look up and see him flexing his muscles

oh he is a menace.

at first you didn't think much of it. he insisted on installing a mirror in front of your shared bed for some reason, and you agreed because why not? you didn't care about no mirror, and he was satisfied, so it was a win-win situation.

now, what you didn't expect, was for him to fuck you while facing said mirror. stack and his weird antics. but still, not that out of the ordinary.

and while he was rearranging your insides with his goddamn skilled hips, rolling against your ass at a pace that had you drooling against the mattress while he kept a hand on your lower back, your eyes landed on your own reflection.

you looked disheveled. and with the way he was fucking you into the mattress? completely expected.

then your gaze landed on his reflexion. he was looking straight at you.

and you swear you felt his cock jump inside you when you made eye contact.

"you like what you see, sugar?" he went a bit faster, a bit harder. his voice dripped like honey and your arched your back, a wave of neediness suddenly hitting you. "mhm!" you hummed, not having enough energy to say anything. "yeah? you do?" and then he's bringing his right arm up–

and he starts flexing.

he's fucking flexing.

"you like that? you like me?" he was, once more, craving validation. and you happily gave it to him—moaning out praises and compliments, which made him fuck you more vigorously.

truly a win-win situation.

bonus : he was very sad after becoming a vampire because him being one meant not being able to see his reflexion in the mirror anymore......

[pipszhou]

lights. camera. caleb

synopsis: Modeling isn’t supposed to end in mirror sex. But then again, Caleb was never just your coworker. Not when his hands linger too long on set. Not when his smile means trouble. Not when his voice turns soft and dangerous and says, “Strip for me, baby.” He says it’s just a quickie. But he always lies.

pairing: caleb x mc

wc: ~4.9k

tags: mirror sex, bratting, brat taming, inappropriate use of evol, dom/sub, dominant caleb, creampie, sexual overstimulation, possessive behavior, jealousy, dirty talk, teasing, model, oral fixation, sex in dressing room, quickies, quickies but they are not quickies, caleb's a big meanie, established relationship, porn with feelings, plot what plot/porn without plot, stripping

notes: i am horny again so hii! this is supposed to be a 1k drabble that turned out to be a 4.8k fanfic. so here ya go! i hope u enjoy that <3 lmk your thoughts if you want. every liked/reblogs and comments mean a lot to me.

Lights. Camera. Action.

That’s your rhythm. Your world. Your name on the cover and your body under the lens.

You’ve done shoots before, but never with him beside you, Caleb, your lover, your partner in crime, the man who made desire feel like breathing. His presence is magnetic. Heat rolling off his body like a second spotlight, lips parted just enough to tempt, jaw tilted just enough to command.

Your hands rest on your waist. Chin up. Chest out. The Calvin Klein tank hugs your curves like it was made for your skin alone. Beside you, he mirrors your stance, tank clinging to those sculpted pecs, baggy ripped jeans hanging low. Too low.

His boxers peek out just enough to be obscene. Just enough to remind the world who they’re looking at.

And God, the camera devours it.

The flash fades. The shoot ends. Voices melt into background static.

You turn first, chin high, heels clicking with practiced rhythm as his gaze scorches your back. Bratty and mean is your go-to today, and after the way he smiled at that photographer? After the little touches between him and your editor?

Yeah. There’s no way you’re letting him get away with that.

You throw open the dressing room door with a sharp swing, ignoring the stares from crew and staff alike. It closes behind you with a snap. But it doesn’t stay closed for long.

A soft click.

He enters like a storm sealed in designer cologne, quiet, devastating, radiating that dangerous stillness he wears too well. Before you can breathe, he’s on you, pinning your back to the door with one hand cradling your jaw, forcing your gaze to meet his.

“You didn’t even look at me, Pips,” he murmurs, voice smooth as velvet and twice as dangerous. “What’s up with you today?”

As if he’s innocent. As if he doesn’t know. As if he didn’t smile like that to everyone but you. He’s an angel, but the kind that fell just for you. And today, he’s been acting like heaven’s for everyone.

You scoff, turning your head aside, refusing to answer. But his body follows. His thigh presses between yours, knee slotting firm under your heat, the grain of his jeans grazing too close. His forearm braces beside your face, caging you in with zero intention of letting you out.

“Nothing, Gege. Find out yourself.”

You push him aside, but he lets you slip away too easily. You make it to the mirror, hands trembling just enough to betray you. When you reach for your brush, his hand slides over yours, slow, possessive.

He leans in behind you, eyes locked on your reflection.

“You’re jealous,” he says, almost in awe. “Aren’t you, baby?”

Gods. Of course you are.

You roll your eyes, trying to shake him, but he doesn’t let go. Instead, his fingers return to your jaw, guiding your face back to his, unrelenting, steady.

His lips trail from the inside of your wrist, up the soft underside of your arm, worshipful and maddening. Each kiss burns hotter than the last. And he never breaks eye contact in the mirror.

Fuck. You’re supposed to be angry. Not melting. Not moaning.

But then—

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, all mock repentance, his mouth curved into a smug little smile. “What did I do wrong today, honey?”

Oh, he looks so pathetic. This is fun. Way too fun. Definitely worth sacrificing your lunch break for.

“You think you’re so sly, huh?” you purr, turning to face him fully. Your fingers slide to his waist, grazing the edge of his jeans—loose, low, and criminally tempting. “I saw the way you glanced at them, Caleb. Don’t you have the faintest idea how obsessed they are with you?”

You lift your index finger beneath his jaw, tilting it upwards until his lashes flutter. The stubble beneath your fingertip is rough. His skin is warm—no, hot—like he’s burning under your touch, like he’s holding back something feral.

But then, he strikes.

His arms coil around your body and yank you in, your chest colliding with his in one fluid motion. The thud of your heartbeat echoes in your ears as your breath stutters, stolen right from your lungs. His tank top is thin, worn soft with wear, and through it you can feel everything. The press of his pecs. The heat of his skin. The teasing roll of his abs as he exhales against your cheek.

“So,” he murmurs, lips barely brushing your temple, “you are jealous of them.”

He catches your hand, cradles it like it’s breakable. And then, kisses. From the base of your knuckles, trailing up, one by one, lips warm and maddeningly slow.

“But why, my love?” he breathes. “Haven’t I already let you have all of me?”

His mouth curls into a smirk against your skin.

And God. You hate how it makes you melt.

You turn your head, trying to fight back the warmth creeping up your cheeks. Your pulse thrums beneath your skin, humming in your ears like static.

“Hmph.” You cross your arms, chin high. “You know they stock your new magazines at home? Hoarding them like they’re... limited edition.” You pause. Swallow. Your throat suddenly dry. “Well. They are limited edition. But one is enough, don’t you think?”

He stills behind you.

Then, he laughs, rich, boyish, infuriating.

His hand clamps on his stomach as he doubles over, the other bracing on your shoulder for balance. His laughter shakes through your spine, vibrating against your back where his chest clings to you.

“Caleb!” you snap, cheeks burning. “Stop laughing! I’m serious!”

“Oh, are you?” he gasps, catching his breath.

He grabs your wrist, turns you back toward the mirror, this time with no hesitation. Your breath catches. He cages you from behind, arms around your waist, hips flush to yours.

His hands trace over your body, palms wide and claiming. One finger slips beneath the strap of your bra and drags it down, slow, deliberate, exposing the elegant slope of your shoulder and the vulnerable curve of your collarbone.

He leans in, his voice a whisper dripped in heat.

“You hoarded my very first tabloid, remember?” His lips ghost over your skin. “Hundreds of copies. Under your bed. I counted, Pipsqueak.”

His gaze catches yours in the mirror, sharp. Gleaming.

His hands don't stop roaming. They map out your waist, your ribs, your hips, like he’s learning the story of your body all over again.

“So tell me, baby,” he murmurs, words dragging warm across your neck. “Are you really mad about them, or are you just pissed someone else is playing your game?”

“Caleb!” you shout, voice pitching higher than you meant, full of shock and outrage and something far more dangerous curling beneath your skin. The audacity of him. You want to slap that smug grin off his face, maybe ride him until it fades, but you’re already trapped. Your body betrays you, melting right into his grip like wax against flame.

“Why don’t I show you,” he drawls, “just how much I own you? Just like how much you own me, Pipsqueak?”

Oh, you like that. Your stomach flips, your thighs tense, your pussy clenches around nothing at the possessiveness in his tone.

But no. No. You’ve been a brat all morning. You’ve got a reputation to protect, a crown to keep on. You still have dignity, goddammit, not that he’s ever respected it.

“Gege, we’re in the middle of a shoot—” you try, weakly.

He brushes the excuse off with a kiss to your cheek, featherlight. Dangerous.

“Just a quickie,” he hums. “Been a long time since I fucked you right here.”

And then, God help you, he lowers his jeans, rough and fast, revealing the soft white boxers you’ve been fantasizing about since the campaign started. They cling to his hips like a sin wrapped in cotton. The bulge pressing against the fabric is barely contained. Your breath catches. Your mouth goes dry.

He knows you’re staring.

“Let Gege do all the work,” he purrs. “Just strip for me, love?”

His voice dips lower. Dangerously close to your ear. His breath fans against your neck, and your knees nearly buckle. “Let me show you how much love I hold for you,” he whispers, words molten and cruel. “And just you. Deal?”

Gods. Your panties are damp. Your thighs pressed too tight. Your chest rising too fast. And he hasn’t even touched you yet.

You want to play it cool. Want to say no. Want to call him annoying. But your fingers are twitching at the hem of your shirt. Your eyes won’t leave his boxers. Your mouth is watering.

You’re so fucked.

Caught between shame and need, your eyes lock onto his through the mirror as he watches you unravel. Caleb’s gaze is deep velvet, glowing with something dangerous, like moonlight wrapped in flame. The studio lights glare overhead, sterile and bright, but they don’t matter. Not when he looks at you like that. Not when his stare is enough to peel your skin open and set your nerves alight.

You try to move. Try to anchor your gaze to something else. Anything else. A hanger. A chair. The ceiling tiles above. Trying to gaslight yourself into thinking there’s a choice. That this isn’t happening. That you don’t want it with every fiber of your body.

But he’s already there, on you like gravity.

“Hey,” he says softly, catching your wrist with the ease of someone who knows your movements by heart. “Look at me.”

You do. Slowly. Stupidly. Your eyes find his again in the mirror. His stare is molten, drinking you in. He hasn’t even touched your bare skin yet, not really, but he looks at you like he already owns it. And somehow, you know he will. His eyes darken when they meet yours, glowing with the kind of hunger that never fully goes away. His fingers tremble, not from hesitation but from want, from the thrill of undressing you like it’s sacred again. Like he’s about to worship your body the way he did the first time, and the second, and the hundredth. Always like it’s new. Always like it’s everything.

His fingers trace yours, slow and coaxing, pulling your hand toward the hem of your tank.

“Here,” he murmurs, voice low and sinful. “Start with this.”

Your breath catches. Your body stills. You’re not sure if you’re ready, but he’s already guiding, lifting.

Your hands move, hesitantly at first, curling under the hem. The fabric brushes your skin as it rides up, soft and worn. Your stomach is the first to show, then the line of your ribs, and finally the edge of your bra, showing the swell of your breasts. The air in the room bites at your skin, cool and sterile, your nipples hardening through the lace. Your breathing grows uneven.

Behind you, Caleb hums. A sound so low it vibrates through your spine. He helps you lift the shirt all the way off, pulling it past your arms and letting it fall to the floor like it doesn’t matter.

“Good girl,” he whispers, lips ghosting against your shoulder. “So obedient for someone who was shouting my name five minutes ago.”

Your cheeks burn. Your thighs press together instinctively, fighting the slick that’s seeping between them. Heat licks up your stomach. Your whole body pulses with it. How did you get here again? Where did all your bratty bravado go?

You hate how easily he breaks you down.

But he knows. Of course he knows. He always does.

His fingers drag lower, slow and deliberate. They brush your waistband, teasing, tracing the sensitive skin just above your hips. His other hand lifts your chin again, guiding your gaze back to the mirror.

“Need help with this part too?” he asks, and you swear he’s smirking without even moving his mouth.

You nod before you can stop yourself. Your breath stutters. Your brain empties.

His laugh is quiet, amused.

“Use your words, baby,” he murmurs, voice firm, grounding. “Gege’s asking you a question.”

You hesitate for half a second. Then your voice spills out, raw and small.

“Yes,” you whisper. “Help me, Gege.”

His smile deepens, pleased and possessive.

“That’s better.”

His hands move to your hips again, thumbs slipping under the waistband of your jeans. He drags them down slowly, kissing your skin with every inch revealed. The denim catches slightly on your thighs before falling, leaving you exposed in nothing but your panties. Soft. Damp. Stained. And he sees it.

His breath hitches.

He leans in just a little, eyes locked to the mirror, his voice barely above a groan.

“Oh, Gods, Pipsqueak.”

He’s not even touching you there yet, and you’re already throbbing. His moan hits your ears like lightning, sending a full-body shiver through you. You lean back into him, desperate, pliant. And then you feel it, hot and heavy, pressed against the curve of your lower back.

His cock, thick and aching, freed from his jeans.

He doesn’t give you time to process it. His hands grip your waist, rough and possessive, and then he lifts you easily, his body slotting behind you, pressing your stomach gently against the mirror. Your breath fogs the glass. Your heart is thudding too loud.

You can’t think. Can’t breathe.

You’re too far gone.

“Caleb,” you gasp, voice cracking, “please–”

He kisses your neck, then speaks, lips brushing skin.

“Just a quickie, baby. I promise you.”

Then he thrusts in. Deep. All the way. Perfectly, with no resistance, like your body was made to take him. And maybe it was. You cry out, barely catching the sound in your throat as your head falls back against his shoulder, your body shaking.

Your mouth falls open. Your legs tremble.

He groans, rough and wrecked against your ear.

“So tight, baby… fuck.”

And then he starts to move.

You feel it—God, you feel it—how his cock fills you just right, stroking deep, dragging against every sensitive part of you with ruthless precision. Every thrust hits with purpose, your slick sounds echoing softly in the cramped room. The stretch is perfect, the friction overwhelming. And yet, his hands stay firm on your thighs, fingers digging in just enough to bruise, not enough to hurt.

He holds you like something sacred, something wild. He won’t let you fall. He’d never let you break without him catching you.

“Ah, Gege, too fast, please—” you gasp, breath hitching, trying to scramble for something solid, anything to ground yourself. Your palms press against the mirror, desperate and messy, smearing fog and sweat across the glass. It’s cool under your fingertips, but your body is nothing but fire. You spread your fingers wider, grip the edges of the vanity just below, your arms trembling with every hard push of his hips.

Behind you, Caleb grits his teeth.

Then he breaks.

He bites.

His mouth crashes onto your neck with unrestrained hunger, teeth grazing your skin before he sinks them in with a growl. It’s not gentle. Not this time. It’s feverish, raw, like he’s starving. Like you’re his prey, and he’s marking you as his kill.

Purple blooms under your skin, a constellation of hickeys along your throat. Your lips part in a silent gasp, moaning without care. Your cunt clenches around him harder. It’s too much, not enough. He’s wrecking you and you’re helping him do it.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, voice dark against your ear. “You like that? Showing up to the next shoot dripping with my marks?”

You whimper, pressing your body harder against him, back arching instinctively.

You are his. Forever his. Fuck the shoot. Let the stylist deal with the hickeys. You’d rather have every photo drenched in proof that you belong to him.

The thought lights you up.

Your legs tighten around his hips, trying to move with him, to grind up and down on his cock in search of more, faster, harder. Your slick coats him with every bounce, every squelch of wetness between your thighs loud and obscene in the quiet room.

Then, suddenly, his grip shifts.

You feel it first in the drop of your stomach. The lack of pressure on your feet. The way your weight changes.

“Caleb—what are you—”

You’re cut off by the way your body lifts.

Your back leaves the mirror. Your hands flail for a second before one of his arms wraps around your waist, the other under your thighs, steady. Anchoring. The air shifts around you, faintly vibrating. Your hair floats weightless. Your breath catches.

He’s using it. Gravity. He’s using his Evol against you.

You’re fucking hovering in the middle of the room, dripping and stuffed full of him, his cock buried inside you like a weapon forged for your ruin. His body moves fluid, effortless, like he was built to take you apart midair.

He growls into your shoulder, deep and low, holding you up like you weigh nothing.

“Told you, baby,” he murmurs, voice wrecked and reverent all at once. “Let Gege do all the work.”

Your legs dangle uselessly, trembling with every sharp thrust. Your body no longer moves on its own—you cling to him for dear life, gasping his name into his collarbone, your nails carving desperate little arcs into the cotton stretched over his chest. One hand clutches his shirt, fingers twisted tight. The other claws at his shoulder, your grip slipping every time his cock punches deep into you.

Nothing feels real. Not the air. Not the floating weightlessness. Not even your own voice, ruined and breathless.

Just Caleb.

Just the way he fucks you like he’s molding you around him, like your body is something he’s building with each slow, ruthless thrust.

His hands roam like he’s mapping out new territory, revisiting every dip and curve as if he’s rediscovering you all over again. His palm cradles your neck, a light tug tilting your head back for him. His other hand trails down to your belly, pressing firmly over the outline of his cock, watching as it disappears into your soaked folds. The pressure makes your breath hitch. You can feel him from the outside. Thick. Throbbing. So deep.

His other hand slides higher, groping your breasts, pinching your nipples between rough fingertips. The sharp sting only drives you higher.

“Aww, look at you, baby,” he coos, fingers guiding your jaw to face the mirror again. His mouth hovers by your ear, breath hot, voice low and lethal. “What a sight. Your folds sucking me in like you’re starving. Slick dripping onto the vanity. Do you see that, baby?”

You glance down, dizzy, wrecked. Your own arousal stains the edge of the vanity in a glistening puddle.

Your cheeks flush with shame and heat. You want to slap the smugness off his face, but you know if you even try, he’ll turn that bratty little challenge into another round.

“Look at your nipples. So hard. So sensitive. And that pretty little pussy, flushed pink and drooling. You’re Gege’s, aren’t you?”

You can’t speak. Can’t think. Every word is stripped from you, scattered like petals at your feet. All you can do is moan, eyes fluttering half-closed, mouth open and helpless.

Your orgasm is so close it’s humiliating. You haven’t even touched your clit. It’s just his cock. The brutal, perfect drag of him inside you, every angle angled like a blade, cutting away your control.

And then—he does touch you.

His fingers trail down, find your clit, and begin to rub. Messy, deliberate, fast. Every motion is filthy and uncoordinated and perfect, switching between teasing circles and quick, cruel little pinches. Your hips buck in the air, but you can’t move far—his Evol holds you suspended, at his mercy.

You sob. You scream his name. Your thighs clamp around his waist, but it’s no use.

“Pipsqueak,” he breathes, dragging his lips along your jaw, voice rough and tender all at once. “Look at you. Trembling for me. Dripping all over me. So fucking tight. I can feel you breaking.”

You whimper into his neck. Your cunt clenches around him so hard it aches.

But he stops. Just for a moment. He slows the thrusts. Keeps his cock buried to the hilt. And when you whine—gutted and needy—he tightens his grip on your hips and presses your chest against his again, holding you so close you can barely move.

“Say it,” he murmurs.

Your eyes flutter, lashes wet with sweat and tears. You blink up at him, dazed.

“What—?”

His voice sharpens.

“Say you’re mine.”

Your whole body shivers. Your thighs twitch. Your breath catches and sticks in your throat. Still, you hesitate. You can’t find your voice.

He spanks your ass, sharp and hot.

“Say it, baby. Or you don’t get to come.”

“I… I’m yours, Gege,” you whisper, so soft it could shatter.

He stills. His cock throbs inside you. Your pulse pounds between your legs.

“Say it like you mean it.”

You sob, broken and wet and so close you feel like you’ll explode just from saying it again.

“I’m yours,” you cry. “I’m yours, I’m yours—I’ve always been yours—”

He kisses you hard, biting, possessive. Your teeth clash. Your lungs burn. He growls into your mouth and fucks you harder now, his pace brutal and merciful. Your moans turn into sobs, every sound cracked open with pleasure.

“That’s right,” he grits out. “Mine to fuck. Mine to ruin. Mine to fill.”

You scream his name. Your body locks. The orgasm builds so violently it splits you in half.

“Then come for me,” he whispers. “Now. Soak me, baby.”

And you do.

Your release hits like lightning, raw and brutal and bright. Your body seizes in his arms, spine arching, head thrown back with a strangled cry. Your walls clench hard around him, pulsing in desperate waves, slick gushing from your cunt in warm, wet ribbons. You feel it drip down your thighs, hot and messy. Feel the tension in your limbs snap one by one as pleasure wracks through you like a storm that will not pass.

Your voice breaks. Your breath breaks. And through it all, Caleb holds you like something precious.

You are coming apart in his arms, but you are not falling.

He groans, low and wrecked against your throat, hips snapping forward one last time. He presses in deep, cock throbbing thick inside your fluttering heat. His breath stutters against your skin, a shiver chasing through his frame, and then you feel it.

His cum floods into you in hot, pulsing spurts. Thick. Warm. Unrelenting.

His arms tighten around your waist as he spills inside, as if trying to lock the feeling in, as if you might forget how it feels to be filled by him. Your bodies tremble together, muscles twitching, lungs heaving in tandem. The air between you is slick with sweat and the scent of sex, sharp and warm and unmistakably yours.

His forehead presses to your shoulder. His mouth finds your collarbone, soft and reverent now. He does not move, not yet. He stays buried deep, still throbbing, hard. Like his body refuses to stop touching yours, even after release.

Your limbs feel boneless. Your thoughts scatter. All you know is heat and breath and him. The sting of his grip on your thighs, the press of his lips against your skin, the soothing warmth of his cum leaking slowly out of you.

You are filled. You are claimed.

But more than that, you are held.

Your chest is rising and falling fast. You can feel his heart pounding against yours, erratic and wild. One of his hands gently moves up to cup the back of your head, cradling you close, grounding you. His touch is gentler now, thumb brushing slow circles on your lower back.

His voice is hoarse when he finally speaks, barely above a whisper.

“You did so well for me.”

You blink, lashes damp, forehead resting against his. Your body aches. Your throat is raw. But deep in your chest, there is only one feeling left.

Safety.

This is what it feels like to be ruined by someone who loves you. To be undone completely and be pieced back together in the same breath. To be used, worshipped, filled, and treasured all at once.

Your fingers curl weakly into his shirt. You don’t say anything yet. You don’t have to.

He kisses your temple, soft and slow. He’s holding you like you’re fragile, even after all that. Maybe especially after.

And neither of you are ready to let go.

“Ah, Pips. You made a mess.”

You immediately shoot daggers at him from your very fucked-out, freshly-floated state. Your hair is a tangled halo of sweat and sex, your shirt somewhere on the floor, and your thighs dripping down to your knees. And this man dares to tease.

“Put me the fuck down, Gege. You are the one who made the mess, alright?” you snap, glaring at him like a furious mouse still trembling in the jaws of a very smug, very satisfied leopard.

He laughs. Not a snicker, not a huff, but a full-bodied, shoulder-shaking, sinful Caleb laugh that echoes through the dressing room like a celebration. You hate that it makes your chest flutter.

“Alright, alright, Pip-squeak. I didn’t mean to,” he says, tone syrupy with mischief. His voice should be illegal. God, it should be bottled and weaponized.

He finally lowers you, and the moment your toes touch the ground, your knees buckle beneath you like the world is too much. Your legs are jelly, your muscles wrung out and shaky. He catches you instantly, arms looping tight around your waist as you fall right back into his chest. Your back slots against his front like two puzzle pieces that forgot they were once one.

“Don’t play the innocent,” you grumble, catching yourself against the edge of the vanity with trembling fingers. “You definitely meant for this to happen, Caleb.”

You’re panting and leaking. The wood beneath your hands is sticky with your own slick and sweat. The smell of sex lingers heavy in the air, like a perfume only the two of you would wear.

“Well,” he drawls, shameless as ever, “who could resist your temptation, baby? You in that tank top? If it hadn’t been a shoot, I would’ve taken you right then and there—”

“Mmfh—shut it, Gege,” you growl, grabbing his stupid handsome face and kissing him to shut him up. Not out of love. Out of emergency. Any more of that sentence and you might combust. Or punch him. Maybe both.

He hums against your lips, clearly enjoying every second.

“But seriously,” he murmurs, brushing sweaty strands of hair from your forehead, “you looked so breathtaking. Like a goddess today. Calvin Klein is your brand, Pip-squeak. I’m just here as set dressing.”

You roll your eyes so hard you see stars.

You stagger toward your shirt, slipping it on with fumbling fingers, wincing at the soft fabric against your overly sensitive skin. You glance up at the dressing room clock.

You go still.

“…Fuck.”

Caleb blinks. “What–”

You whirl around, tank top halfway on, hair a mess, and slam your palm against his chest.

“Caleb. We are fifteen minutes late to the next shoot.”

“Babe–”

“I swear to God,” you hiss, eyes blazing, “I will chase you across planets. I will drag you by the waistband of your stupid boxers into your grave.”

The panic between you barely has time to settle before—

Knock. Knock.

A chill runs through you both.

Tara’s voice comes through the door. Clear. Cool. Exhausted beyond belief.

“Get dressed. Wash up. I don’t care what just happened in there,” she says, tone flat as a blade. “But next time, keep it in your pants, Caleb. And you, my love, do not taunt him again. You know he’s like a horny golden retriever with a modeling contract.”

Your soul leaves your body.

“You have fifteen minutes to get decent. And if you don’t show up, I will personally hand your clothes to the lighting crew.”

You hear the sound of her heels clicking away. The silence that follows is deafening.

Caleb blinks slowly. “…Did she just call me a dog?”

You wheeze, shoulders trembling, wiping at the mirror like it’ll erase your sins. A puddle of your own orgasm glistens on the table. You try not to look at it.

“You are a dog.”

“But like, a sexy one, right?”

“Caleb.”

“A dangerous wolf in heat—”

“Caleb, I will bite you.”

He grins, smug as hell, tugging his jeans up with zero shame.

“Well then,” he says, licking his lips and tossing you a clean towel, “maybe next shoot, we start with the quickie. Save everyone some time.”

You throw the towel at his face.

He catches it with one hand, cocky and unbothered.

You hate him. You love him. You’re already dreading what Tara will say to you after this.

But right now, all you can do is laugh. A real one, from the belly. The kind that makes you light-headed.

Caleb smiles at the sound.

“Fifteen minutes, baby,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around your waist again, kissing your temple. “Plenty of time to kiss it better.”

[c00chi3munch3r]

thinking about a girl gripping my face, forcing me to look at myself get fucked by her strap in the mirror.

[2cupids]

warnings. sex worker!reader, fingering, slight breath play, squirting. mdni (17+).

boyfriend!choso has always been supportive of everything you’ve done and that includes you and your onlyfans account. he’s even subscribed to you.

that’s exactly why choso is helping you film a video today. you’re sat in between his thick thighs with a red lingerie set on facing the mirror in front of you with the phone set up, recording you and choso’s reflection in the mirror which you’ll edit out later.

choso’s hands caress the sides of your body, coming up to massage your boobs and giving them a nice squeeze. he tugs the lacy material down to reveal your tits, groping them gently as you sigh and relax further into his chest.

one hand stays on your breast as the other travels down south. he rubs your inner thigh, slowly inching closer to your awaiting core, building up the anticipation. his fingers lightly tease your clit over your panties and a whimper falls from your pretty lips.

per your idea, choso’s hand parts from your breast and reaches over next to him to grab the pair of scissors, cutting both sides of your panties and letting the material fall down between your legs, putting your pussy on full display.

he makes you cum the first time by playing with your clit and you’re a withering mess against his hard chest. a firm slap lands on your sensitive nub and you squeal, your body flinching slightly before a small grin pulls at the sides of your mouth.

choso takes his hand away from your pussy, giving you a minute to breathe before he continues playing with you. when you give him the subtle signal from you that you’re ready to continue, he moves down to tease your clit again before letting his fingers trail down more. two fingers circle around your entrance, dipping them inside to collect your sticky essence. he brings his hand up and spreads his fingers apart, showing off your wetness for the camera.

both his long, meaty fingers slip inside you at the same time and you suck in a shaky breath. his fingers scissor inside you, stretching you out while simultaneously curling them inside you at the same time. the raunchy noises of your wet pussy bounce off the walls and fill the room, mixing with your sweet sounds of pleasure. his fingers rub against that sweet spot inside you with each thrust and it’s got you rocking your hips against his fingers, chasing after that second orgasm that’s about to make its appearance.

choso’s palm rubs against your clit as he pleasures you, adding onto the delicious feeling and your moans increase in volume and intensity. he pinches your nipple between his thumb and index finger before his hand moves up to your neck, wrapping around it and applying pressure to the sides.

each breath starts to come in more shallow than the last as you get closer. your eyes squeeze together and your mouth falls open in the shape of the letter ‘o’. your head rolls back onto choso’s chest right before you cum.

a high pitched moan leaves your mouth and you place a hand on top of choso’s, he quickly pulls his soaked fingers out of you and a second later a clear fluid shoots up from between your legs as you squirt.

choso holds your shaking form against him as you calm down from your high. once your breathing steadies, he spreads your lips wide open to give the camera one last good look at your messy cunt. he brings his fingers up to your mouth and you wrap your glossy lips around them obediently to taste yourself.

after posting the video, you check the interactions a couple hours later and you’re pleasantly surprised by the comments. you can’t help but crack a smile at how a handful of comments are talking about your boyfriend’s arms or complimenting his tats.

maybe this is your sign to have choso help you out with more content.

taglist <3 @cheezemanz @tojicvmslut

[rain-water-flowers]

Unconditional

WC: 1548

Synopsis: Niki can't get a move down in the new choreography. Turns out he just needs something to take his frustration out on.

Warnings: frustrated Niki, unprotected sex (I'm disappointed), dom!niki, sub!reader, he's a little mean ngl, slight slapping, mirror sex, oral (m. receiving), he's tender with her at the end if you squint, rough fucking, lmk if I missed something lol.

A/n: I wrote this for my beta @midnighthazee lol, she gave me this scenario and I just went with it. It's fun making her read fics about her problem people lmaooo. So thank her for this. Enjoyyyy (my first nonskz fic) :)))

Enhypen Masterlist

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅-`✮´-⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

The music cut out as Niki angrily walked over to the laptop connected to the speaker and aggressively reset the music. The echo of his heavy breathing bouncing off the mirrored walls of the empty dance studio. Sweat clung to his neck, soaking the collar of his shirt. He stared at his reflection – red-faced, muscles tense, chest rising and falling too fast. The stupid choreography just wasn’t clicking. 

“Again,” he grunted, breathing hard and intensely as he pressed play.

He kept going through the steps, stumbling on one of the counts. His foot caught on the wrong beat, arms jerking out of sync. He hissed a curse under his breath, dragging his hands through his hair and yanking it back like he could shake himself into doing the move right. 

“Niki?” 

He froze. That voice. Soft, familiar, and getting under his skin. 

He turned, slow and sharp, and there she was—leaning against the doorway, his hoodie half-zipped over her tank top, hair pulled up lazily, like she hadn’t come here to interrupt him but just found herself here.

Niki’s jaw tightened.

“What?” he snapped, harsher than he meant. Her eyes flinched, just barely.

“I was just passing by. Thought I’d see how rehearsal was going.”

“Well, now you’ve seen,” he said, arms crossed, his tone all cut glass and fire.

Y/n didn’t move. Didn’t shrink.

“You’re pissed,” she said plainly, stepping further inside, letting the door shut behind her. Her eyes flicked to the scuffed floor, then back to him. “Is it the turn again?”

“I had it. Last week I had it,” Niki growled, pacing like a caged animal. “And now it’s like my body forgot everything. I’m wasting time. I’m wasting everyone’s time.”

“No one’s here,” she said. “Just me.”

“Exactly,” he shot back. “So go.”

Y/n raised a brow, challenging. “You really want me to go?”

His chest tightened. God, she knew exactly how to make him unravel. She always had.

She took a step closer, and then another, until they were nearly chest to chest, his breath ghosting against her lips. He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. His fists were clenched at his sides.

She reached up, fingers brushing a damp curl off his forehead. “You're allowed to be frustrated, Niki. But don’t take it out on me like that.”

His eyes closed. Just for a second. Like the contact short-circuited his storm. But when he looked at her again, the fire was still there—less rage now, more... something else.

“Why do you always come in when I’m at my worst?” he murmured, voice low, rough.

“Because I know you don’t need anyone when you’re at your best.”

The tension between them hung like static. She was so close. His hands hovered near her hips like he wanted to hold her, but didn’t trust himself to. Not yet.

“I hate how you do that,” he muttered.

“Do what?”

“Make me feel like I’m not falling apart when I clearly am.”

Y/n smiled, slow and knowing. “You're not falling apart, Niki. You’re just mid-spin.”

His laugh was more of a breath, shaky and bitter-sweet. He let his forehead rest against hers.

“You’re annoying.”

“You’re dramatic.”

“You still love me.”

“Yeah,” she whispered, hands finally wrapping around his waist. “I do.”

The music was silent, but somehow, the room felt full again. Niki could still feel the anger lingering below his skin, the furrow between his brows still evident despite the slight comfort his girl was bringing him. Thinking about how he kept messing up brought the anger and annoyance back to the forefront of his mind. 

“Just watch me,” he growled, stalking back to the center of the room. “And keep your mouth shut.”

Y/n nodded and perched on the edge of a chair against the wall. Niki took a deep breath and launched into the routine again, trying to ignore her presence. But no matter how hard he focused, he couldn’t shake the feeling of her eyes on him. Distracting him.

After several more botched attempts, Niki finally gave up with a loud groan of frustration. He kicked over a trash can and stalked toward y/n, grabbing her arm and hauling her to her feet. 

“Come here,” he snarled, dragging her over to the mirrors.

“What are you doing?” Y/n asked nervously, trying to tug her arm free. 

Niki ignored her and shoved her down to her knees, shoving his sweatpants down to reveal his hardening cock. "You're going to suck my dick so I can get rid of some of this frustration," he ordered coldly.

Y/n's eyes widened. "Niki, we're in public-"

"I don't give a fuck," Niki cut her off viciously, fisting a hand in her hair and yanking her head forward. "Open your mouth."

Y/n whimpered but obeyed, parting her lips to let him shove his cock inside. Niki groaned at the feel of her warm mouth enveloping him and started pumping his hips, fucking her face without preamble.

"That's it, take it," he panted, watching their reflection in the mirror. Y/n's cheeks hollowed as she sucked him eagerly, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. Niki used his grip on her hair to control her movements, forcing her to take him deeper.

He pulled out with a wet pop after a few minutes, leaving Y/n gasping and coughing. "Get up," he barked, hauling her to her feet and spinning her around to face the mirror.

Y/n braced her hands on the glass, looking at him with tear-filled eyes in their reflection. 

"Are you gonna try to be gentle?" she whispered.

Niki scoffed and pulled her pants down, resting them just below her ass and shoving her panties aside. "You want me to be gentle? After I've been busting my ass for hours and you interrupt me?"

He drove into her cunt with one brutal thrust, making them both groan. Y/n's pussy was hot and tight around him, clenching down instinctively.

"That's right, baby, let me take it out on you," Niki grunted, setting a punishing pace. He gripped her hips hard enough to leave bruises as he fucked her, slamming into her with enough force to make her breasts bounce in the mirror. "Fucking take it like a good little girl for me, hm?"

Y/n could only moan and push back against him, loving the rough treatment despite herself. She could see how sexy they looked together in the mirror - Niki's lean, muscular body jackhammering into hers, his muscles flexing with every thrust. She could also see the frustration etched into his face, the way his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed in concentration as he used her.

"Just like that, pretty girl." Niki growled, leaning over to bite at her neck possessively while placing his hands over hers on the mirror. "Milk my fucking cock. I know you love being used like this."

"Yes," Y/n whimpered breathlessly. "I love it. I love you."

Those words seemed to snap something inside Niki. He reared back and spanked her hard, making her yelp. "Don't fucking say that," he snarled. "You don't get to love me when I'm so pissed off."

He resumed fucking her savagely, fingers digging into her hips hard enough to leave marks. Y/n could only sob and take it, tears streaming down her face as she came with a scream, pussy clamping down on him like a vice.

"Fuck!" Niki growled, slamming into her one last time before stilling deep inside. He came hard, painting her insides with thick ropes of cum as he emptied himself inside of her.

They collapsed together against the mirror, Niki's softening cock still buried inside her as they caught their breath. Y/n could feel his heart pounding against her back, could feel the sheen of sweat that coated their bodies.

"I'm sorry," Niki mumbled after a long moment, pressing a tender kiss to her shoulder. "I didn't mean to be so rough. I just...I'm so frustrated and I took it out on you."

Y/n turned in his arms to face him, cupping his face in her hands. "I know," she said softly. "But you needed to let it out somehow. And I'm here for you, no matter what."

Niki closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers, breathing in her comforting scent. He knew he was lucky to have her, even if he didn't always treat her like it.

"Thank you," he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. "For putting up with my bullshit. And for letting me use you like that."

Y/n smiled and kissed him back. "Anytime, baby," she murmured. "Now why don't we go get cleaned up and I'll make you something to eat, hm? You need to keep your strength up for another round of this later."

Niki laughed and swatted her ass playfully as she led him out of the studio. He knew he still had a lot of work ahead of him...but with y/n by his side, he felt like he could take on anything.

The next day he came in and immediately had the spin down. Maybe he just needed a little bit of good luck (his girlfriend's throat around his cock).

[spideyjimin]

Hi, I don’t know if you’re accepting requests, but you could write something about JK where his girlfriend is accompanying them on tour and he keeps sneaking away without the managers and boys coming to sleep with her or take her to his bunk bed on the tour bus or to his hotel room... smuttt pls

hello, angel ✨ i'm not really accepting requests... but i can do a little exception, hope you'll enjoy it, angel 🤗

✨ mirror, mirror on the wall ✨

—  pairing: idol!jungkook x female reader 

— rating: 18+ 

—  words: 2,814

—  warnings: tattooed!jungkook, dom!jungkook, big cock!jungkook, swearing, teasing, pet names, breast play, dirty talk, mirror sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, and, creampie

Jungkook leaves the stage running, impatient to join his girlfriend, you.

This past week, you’ve been coming to certain shows of the boys as you’ve been on holiday. Your boyfriend has been more than happy to have you around, and he’s demonstrated it quite a lot.

Let's just say that there hasn’t been a show where he didn’t fuck you before and after it. Apparently, it helps him to have enough energy, and be in a good mood.

Well, if he says so, you won’t contradict him. Your boyfriend is very good at sex, he knows how to give you mindblowing orgasms, and you kind of got addicted to it so you’re never going to say no to that.

Once he finds you in the room you stayed during the show, he closes the door behind him. Even though you were expecting him to come, he arrived quite fast. You can still hear the fans calling for BTS.

“Woow, you were fast,” you say.

As you look at your boyfriend, you instantly notice that he has already removed his shirt. He’s all sweaty as well, and his breathing is heavy. In a matter of seconds, he’s standing in front of you with the brightest smile on his face.

“Couldn’t wait to be with you,” he says before pressing a kiss on your lips. His hand moves to your back, pushing you closer.  “Couldn’t wait to fuck you, pumpkin.”

At first, it was so weird to hear your boyfriend using such cute nicknames while being dirty as hell.  His eyes look behind you at the mirror pressed against the wall. A devious smirk appears on his face which causes you to turn around.

You notice your reflections, and you know damn well what is about to happen. This man is about to fuck you nice and rough right in front of the damn mirror. He’s standing behind you, and the way you both look at each other through the mirror sends shivers down your spine.  

The man wastes no time and starts unbuttoning your shirt to expose your torso to his greedy eyes. Underneath your shirt, you’re wearing a white laced bra. When he sees it, he licks his lips.

While his hand opens your shirt, his body presses even more against yours, and you perceive his hard shaft in your back.

His hand snails down to your waist, holding you tight as if he’s afraid you’ll run away from him. His other hand pushes your bra down to reveal your breasts before he massages them, whimpers escaping your lips. 

His eyes intensely glance at you through the mirror, there is only one thing he desires. You. 

You sense his crotch growing harder, causing a smile to appear on your face while you keep moaning under his action.

“Someone seems to be turned on,” you manage to say in between moans. 

“How can I not be turned on by you, pumpkin?” he presses a soft kiss on your cheek.

You close your eyes to enjoy his sweet affectation as well as the way he caresses your breasts. 

Right now, all you can think about is him, and him only. You’re perfectly aware that his bandmates can hear your moans, they will for sure make comments when you leave the dressing room but you simply don’t care. 

“Undress for me, honey,” he says against your cheek.

You nod before purposely bending down to take your shoes off. The curve of your ass presses harder against his member, snatching a deep groan out of him. You smile, more than proud to have caused a reaction out of him. Quickly, you take off your shoes and your pants, only leaving your panties. 

“Such a tease,” Jungkook runs his thumb over his lower lip as his eyes get lost in your body. You wink at him, teasing him even more.  

His large hands rest on your ass before slowly caressing it, his curious eyes look down at his hands on you. They cover almost all your butt and fuck, the sight gets him even harder. His action gives you small goosebumps on your body, your eyes never once stopping to glance at the two of you through the mirror.  

The cold metal of the rings that he’s wearing sends shivers down your spine as his fingers tenderly stroke the soft skin of your ass. Slowly his tattooed hand trails down, one of his fingers brushing against your soaked panties.

The sensation of his finger touching your clothed core sends shivers down your spine but it also causes you to let out a small whimper. A groan escapes his lips as he feels your arousal.    

“You’re so fucking soaked,” he says, his eyes glancing at you through the mirror while his fingers start to massage the bundle of nerves through your panties. “All for me?” A smile appears on his face as the words leave his lips. 

“Maybe,” you keep teasing him.

As he feels your growing wetter in his hands, the urge to have your velvety walls around him arises. His fingers press harder against your core, making you moan louder. Torturing you a bit more with his hands is something he really loves to do because your body always instantly reacts to it. 

“Maybe I can stop,” he teases you back while he slowly starts removing his hand.

You firmly grab his arm, not letting his hand leave your panties.  

“No,” you resolutely say.

Jungkook chuckles before his hands slowly pull your panties down your legs, causing you to suck in a deep breath. Once your panties are on the floor, his fingers ride up your legs, goosebumps rising on your skin. 

Purposely, he totally ignores your needy core, his hands resting on your waist before bending you down a little bit to see your pussy. Not wanting to wait for more, he pulls his pants down together with his underwear,  his cock springing free, and slapping against his stomach.

Since he’s just behind you, you can’t see anything but you can perfectly picture his massive member. You’ve already seen it a million times.

Most probably, he’s already hard but not completely, so his length isn’t fully big yet. However, you know that the head is already red and swollen with precum drooling from the tip.

Jungkook looks down at the beast he hides in his pants. His tattooed hand grabs his cock, slowly stroking it while his eyes gaze up at your soaked pussy that is all ready for him. This incredibly hot sight definitely helps him to get harder. 

“You’re so perfect, pumpkin,” he groans behind you, your eyes searching for his face in the mirror. 

To say that he looks hot is more than an understatement. Everything screams hot with him; from his black short hair to the piercing in his eyebrow, and to the tattoos on his arm.

His eyes filled with lust never leave your body while he keeps stroking his cock. In order to ease the intrusion of his cock inside you, he gathers your wetness with his fingers before spreading it all over his beast.    

Both of you are so impatient as it feels like time is passing by too slowly. 

“Please hurry,” you tell him with desperation, your walls clenching but your words only make him smirk. 

His free hand reaches for your body to caress your ass cheeks while he keeps pumping his hard length. Never once do his eyes look away from you because the sight you’re giving him is delightful. Since he pushed down your bra, your breasts are almost in full display, causing him to bite his lower lip.

“Looks like someone is always so needy and desperate,” he adds before pushing in one motion his massive cock inside you.

A deep and guttural moan leaves your mouth as this comes as a surprise for you. Jungkook is definitely the kind of guy to surprise everybody but when he does it during sex, he’s even wilder.

His huge cock stretches you completely as he pushes himself further inside you. Having your walls sucking him inside always feels like heaven to him. Most of the time, all he can think about is the way your walls feel around him.  

“So fucking good,” he mumbles while his cock throbs inside you

When he finally fills you up to the brim, he halts to give you all the time you need to adjust to his monstrous cock. Jungkook doesn’t need you to speak to understand you. The way he penetrated you isn’t the nicest way at all but he’s going to give you all the time you need. 

His hands fall on your hips to caress them with his thumbs while his eyes land on your reflection again. 

“You’re so fucking big,” you exclaim. 

His hands remove your shirt before throwing it on the floor. Now, he has a perfect view of your body.

Slowly, he bends down to reach your face and presses a sweet kiss on your cheek. The movement causes his cock to move a bit further inside you, a soft whimper leaving your lips. 

“Sorry, pumpkin,” he whispers in your ear. 

Before he does or says anything more, you decide to lift up because the position isn’t comfortable at all. Now, you’re ready to be fucked by the prettiest man on earth.  

For a moment, you stare at the reflection of the two of you in the mirror. The first thing that crosses your mind is that this looks like a scene from a porn movie. Looking down a bit, you can perfectly see where your bodies connect. Your walls squeeze him, earning a groan from him. 

Your eyes glance up at the man behind you. His pants are pooling at his ankles, and his lust-filled eyes are looking at you. If a fan saw him like this, they’d be dead by now.

Without saying anything, you begin to move your ass, pushing his cock out of you until only the tip is inside. You sense his cock pulsating inside you before you suck him back in. A little teasing doesn’t hurt anyone. 

A small whimper escapes his soft lips while his eyes close to enjoy the feeling. 

“You really can’t wait,” he manages to say when he’s fully inside you again. 

“Never,” you answer, your eyes never leaving his adorable face but you decide to clench your walls around him.  

“You’re such a tease,” he groans against your ear. 

Jungkook slowly pushes back, leaving only the tip of his cock inside you. His eyes never leave your figure, watching you moan. That sound is without any doubt his favorite music. 

Sex in front of the mirror is a first time for the two of you. Jungkook can help but find this pretty erotic, he can see the way your pussy is around him as well as the way your body contorts with all the pleasure only he can give you. You, on the other hand, can see how you look when he fucks you senseless.   

Brutally, he pushes his cock fully inside you, a loud moan leaving your lips. For a little while, he doesn't move, his lips only press tender kisses on your neck. Although you desperately want to watch him fuck you, you want to savor this moment. So, you close your eyes as you moan.  

“Your cunt takes me so fucking well, pumpkin.” 

Once he sees that you’re ready to take more, he pulls back brutally before slamming himself back into you. Jungkook once again stops when he’s fully inside you, torturing you just to hear you begging him to fuck you. This is of course not enough for you. You need more. You need him to fuck you rough in front of this massive mirror.  

“Please, Jungkook,” you start saying, “fuck me.” 

“I always love to hear you begging,” he whispers before licking the spot just under your ear. 

He pushes his cock back before slamming into you with both hands on your hips, pulling you back to meet his thrusts. The slick sound of your pussy soaking his cock as well as your moans quickly fill the room. 

His cock perfectly fills you up, his hips hitting against yours with every thrust he makes. This all causes sparks of pleasure to shoot throughout your body, your arousal dripping from your core and creaming his cock.

As he senses the sticky mess you’re causing, his eyes briefly look down. His cock is buried deep inside you, brushing against your walls, and causing you to moan even louder each time. 

“You’re so fucking wet, pumpkin,” he hisses before biting his lower lip. His hand on your hips presses harder into your skin when he feels your walls tighten around him. “And making such a mess on my cock.” 

Every time he pushes his hips back, he watches with delight the way his cock is completely covered with your arousal. You’re clearly doing a bigger mess than usual which makes him realize that this mirror fuck session is turning you incredibly on. 

Jungkook’s hand moves up on your body, grabbing your breasts and squeezing them to make you moan with desire before his fingers start playing with your nipples. Moans flood out of your mouth as he tortures your body.

“It feels so good,” you whine. 

His eyes look at you, contorting with pleasure, and a smirk grows again on his face.

The vision of you two fucking in front of a mirror is literally driving him crazy. Your moans are getting louder, and right now, you’re sure that everybody who is working in this concert hall is able to hear you moaning Jungkook’s name. 

Well, all those people have been hearing you for the past few days moaning your boyfriend’s name at least twice a day.

“You’re so loud, pumpkin,” he says as he goes deeper and harder to make you scream with pleasure. Your voice moaning his name is the only thing he wants to hear.  

His hands can feel the way your body quivers with each thrust. The way he’s torturing your body is only making you lose yourself further.

This time around, you’re able to witness what your boyfriend sees every time he screws you relentlessly. Your face looks so weird but god, you just don’t care. All you care about is the pleasure he’s giving you.   

“Shit,” he groans when he feels the warmth of your walls wrapping tighter around him. “Your cunt is clenching so hard.” 

As you look at him, you can’t help but find him extremely attractive. Through the mirror, his eyes stare at you with passion and lust as his tongue licks his lower lips. He keeps growling your name, thrusting into you with more urgency each time. 

“Gonna be a good girl and come for me?” he asks, and you nod.

You desperately want to be a good girl for him because you know it’ll put him in a good mood.

“I wanna come so bad,” you manage to say. 

His cock twitches inside of you, a low groan rumbling in his throat as you practically beg him to let you come.

His hand slowly goes down on your body to land on your throbbing clit. His fingers start to rub your sensitive spot as his cock keeps driving you crazy. 

The wave of pleasure inside you is growing bigger and bigger, almost becoming too overwhelming.

“Do it,” he says. “Come for me.” 

Those words are what you need for the wave of pleasure to hit you intensely, making you come hard around him. Your arousal completely covers his cock while your walls squeeze him over and over again. 

After a few seconds, he starts thrusting into you again before speeding up the pace of his hips slamming into you, wanting to chase his own high. The coil in his lower stomach tightens inside of him, and it completely clouds his thoughts. Breathy whines escape his pretty lips as he looks down at the mess you made on his cock. 

A desperate moan leaves his mouth when his orgasm hits him hard. Your eyes automatically glance up at him in the mirror to see him coming. You can’t help but find him extremely adorable. He rolls his eyes back with pleasure, his body tensing up as he releases his load inside you. Loud moans leave his lips as he’s completely ravaged by his orgasm. 

For a little moment, he stays inside you, his cock pulsating inside you. 

“Shit, we should do this more often,” he says before pressing a soft kiss on your cheek. 

“I wouldn’t complain,” you tell him. 

Jungkook pushes his dick out before grabbing tissues to clean you and himself. The two of you put your clothes back before sitting on the couch to discuss, acting like nothing happened.

[thebeeiswritng]

You know how you unexplainably look extremely hot in bathroom mirrors? Especially the obscure bathrooms in the middle of nowhere.

Imagine a spirit (or spirits) that live behind the mirrors and fantasize about seeing an elusive treasure of a human (you).

Once the spirit(s) see you they start to follow you, they just can’t wait to see you in any mirror anywhere.

You, that might be insecure or not exactly photogenic, that can not fathom that someone sees you at your best every day, that is all they see, and they are obsessed.

Maybe the mirror monsters are possessive and will fight tooth, nail, and claw, to live in your bedroom mirror.

Maybe the mirror monsters are down to share you, maybe they crowd around your mirrors waiting to catch a glimpse of you together.

Mirror monsters who stroke their cocks while they watch you do your makeup, especially of you do goth or alternative makeup. Why couldn’t your lipstick be one of their cocks? They would love to cum on your face and see you rub it in like your primer or foundation. Would you blush the same color as your powder while they fuck you stupid?

Mirror monsters who drool and cry at the thought of watching you change. These monsters will wait hours on end in your bathroom to see you get dressed in the morning or after a shower.

Mirror monsters who live in your bathroom and always get to hear you pleasuring yourself in the shower.

And the fun part is, you will never know about them. And never know how much they truly adore you until one monster is brave enough to brake a mirror and drag you through the frame.

[muse4bloom]

this man and his mirror selfies go hard (you know what else is hard)

[y3sterdaysproblem]

smoke and mirrors - chris sturniolo

chapter nine - final

summary: your best friend Matt backs out of plans you had made together, so you replace him with his brother. the only problem is the two of you can’t stand each other.

{enemies to lovers, fake dating}

includes : explicit language, fluff, smut(penetration, oral, fingering, etc.), angst if you squint, lots of bickering, slow burn

wc: 3.7k

Chris had never bought a girl flowers before, so he was anything but confident when he walked into the local flower shop not far from his home, finally building up the courage to ask the girl he had fallen head over heels with on a date. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, and he hung on every word she said, wanting to make her feel valued and heard when she spoke. He couldn’t imagine finding any girl prettier than her, it was impossible in his head.

When he finally picked out a bouquet, he paid happily with his allowance money that he’d saved for a couple of months now, wanting it to be the most beautiful bouquet she’s ever received. It made him giddy, knowing he was finally going to get an answer as to if she felt the same.

He kept the flowers hidden in his locker for the day, waiting until the end of the day to finally tell his dream girl how he felt. His nerves almost got the best of him, but he told himself it was now or never. He had to make his move.

But he couldn’t find her. Anywhere. He had looked in every room she could possibly be in, he had looked out front, he had even asked a girl to check the bathroom for him to see if she was hiding out with some friends. But it was to no avail.

Finally, as a last ditch effort, he decided to check the fields, see if she was hanging around waiting for football practice to start. She was so social and knew at least one person in every sport, so she loved to show support any time she could. He loved how supportive she was of her friends and their interests, even if she didn’t care for it herself, she was always around to let her friends know she had their back. She was so kind.

He was about to give up, for real this time, maybe just bring the flowers to her house later in the day, when he saw movement under the bleachers, and without thinking anything of it he peeked under, feeling like his heart audibly shattered in his ears when his eyes landed on you locking lips with some asshole jock that could never treat you right.

He couldn’t believe it. He was too late. He had missed his chance with you, and now he was just a fool standing around with a bouquet of flowers for nobody.

He quickly turned and started walking away, knowing he needed to get home as quickly as possible. His heart was broken, and there was nothing he could do to fix it.

When he finally arrived home after walking by himself, he looked for the only woman he knew would never break his heart, finding his mom in the kitchen starting to cook dinner. He walked up to her and handed her the flowers, smiling sadly up at her.

She grinned wide, not seeing how sad her son was in the moment, eyes locked on the beautiful arrangement of flowers in front of her. “Wow!” She exclaimed. “What’s this for, baby?”

Chris handed them off to her before wrapping his arms around her, resting his head on her shoulder. “You deserve it, mama.”

He has never and will never let his mom know how much that hug meant to him, and the tear that slipped out and landed on her shirt will always be his secret.

-

If having to love you in silence was suffering enough, loving you loudly and losing you was a million times worse.

Some moments he thought it might be easier to just run away from his life and start over, but nothing would rid him of the thought of you.

When he found himself at the flower shop, he couldn’t help but feel like the fifteen year old version of himself, pining over a girl he’d never get to call his own, desperately trying to win her over with a few words and a bouquet of flowers.

But he wasn’t going to let you slip so easily this time. This time he was willing to put up the fight.

-

Days had passed of Chris trying to contact you any way he could. Texts, calls, FaceTimes all ringing through your phone at almost every hour of the day, all going completely ignored by you, not having the energy to text him back, not wanting to open that wound just yet.

You knew you’d have to talk to him eventually, you couldn’t ignore him forever.

Matt had texted as well, trying to make sure you were okay, wanting to see if you needed anything, but you didn’t want to talk to him either. He had remained neutral through everything, but he was still too close to Chris for comfort right now.

You had spent the last few days cooped up in your apartment, either sleeping on your couch or your bed, not having the energy to do anything, barely even eating. You weren’t even hungry and couldn’t be bothered to make food that you wouldn’t even want to eat anyway, so you just rotted away with your thoughts, asking yourself over and over how you were so stupid to believe someone like Chris.

So many questions flowed through your head over those days. Why would he tell you he didn’t want to talk to her anymore? Why would he confess to you just to keep seeing other people? Why would he damn near tell you he loves you just to ruin everything?

Part of you hated Nick for ruining everything but another part of you was grateful to him for pulling the cover from your eyes, literally. If it wasn’t for him, you’d still be with Chris, sneaking around his brothers while the whole time he was sneaking around you.

You knew it was awful for you to do, but the first night when you got home, you found this Maya girl on instagram, scrolling through endless photos of a girl who you thought was so much prettier than you you almost couldn’t be mad at Chris for not being able to let her go. Of course he’d choose her, she was perfect. They still followed each other, too. Even after all of this, after you had found out, he still followed her. Maybe you were looking into this too deeply, but in your brokenhearted mind it all made sense.

Your phone rang again from where it was next to you on the couch, Chris’s name and a selfie you guys had taken together lighting up the screen. Every time you saw that picture your heart tightened in your chest. You both looked so happy, smiling wide like there was no place you’d rather be. You had no idea how things went so bad so quickly. Part of you wishes you could’ve lived in ignorance forever, never to find out the truth about Chris’s antics. You would’ve been so much happier.

“Stop tickling me, I want to take a picture!” You squeal at Chris, body curling away from him as his fingertips attacked your sides, something he couldn’t stop doing now that he knew you were ticklish, wanting to hear your loud giggles for the rest of his life.

“No pictures!” He opposes, but stops tickling you, pulling your body close to his where he stood.

You guys were out on what you guess you could call a date, exploring parts of the city you hadn’t seen before, popping into small gift shops occasionally, grabbing ice cream and little snacks you had come across throughout the day. You both had just left dinner and were just walking around now, you taking photos of whatever caught your eye, but now you wanted a photo of the two of you for your contact photo and just for the memory as well. You didn’t have many photos together yet, but you loved looking through the few that you had when you were alone, most of them either goofy photos of Chris or photos of him with the biggest smile in the world, lighting up your face every time you saw them.

“Please! Just one, I swear.” You beg him. He had his arms wrapped you from behind and his chin on your shoulder where he groaned loudly, which you giggled at, knowing he was about to agree.

“One,” he tells you and you squeal, bringing your phone up in front of you guys.

“Smile!” You tell him and he obliges, both of you smiling as wide as you can, him with his eyes clenched shut. You couldn’t help it, you snapped a few, continuing to take pictures when he turned his head into your neck and peppered kisses there before he turned back to the camera and flipped it off with a deadpan look on his face, making you laugh loudly as you put your phone away.

The memory fades from your mind as the call goes to voicemail, the fourth one today.

You couldn’t help but miss Chris, miss the way he made you feel. You didn’t understand how things turned bad so quickly when they were so good, good to the point where you thought for sure you had locked him down.

You groan to yourself, rubbing your eyes harshly, noticing the tears flowing intermittently from them. “Fuck,” you huff, annoyed at yourself.

You throw your lap blanket off of you and stand up from the couch, walking to your bathroom to wash your face, wanting to rid yourself of the days and days of tears, deciding it’s time to get over yourself and get back to life, not wanting to sit around and wallow over this boy who clearly didn’t care about you in the first place.

You’re just stepping into the bathroom when your doorbell rings, startling you. You whip your head around to the sound, heart racing. There was only one person that could be. He hadn’t tried coming to your home yet, only trying to contact you via phone, so you were unsure how you would get out of this. There was no way you could pretend you weren’t home, your car was right outside.

You wipe your face with your hands and walk to the door, standing directly in front of it. “Go away,” you say sternly, crossing your arms.

“Please let me in,” Chris pleads from the other side of the door.

“No,” you reply. “Go home.”

You hear Chris sigh loudly, then a small crinkle. “I’m already here, just let me explain, please. It’s not what you think.”

You debate it for a moment, wondering if you need the closure, but knowing you’re not ready yet. “Chris, leave. I don’t want to see you. Go bother your other fucking girlfriend.”

Girlfriend. That’s the first time you’ve even slightly referred to yourself as his girlfriend, and the circumstances of it almost made you laugh.

Chris is silent for a few beats, thinking of what to say next before he speaks again. “Let me in and let me explain and if by the end of it you never want to talk to me again I’ll respect that and leave you alone. I just can’t handle you thinking I would hurt you like that when I never would. Please.”

You consider it. If he’s serious and he would leave you alone, it might be worth it. Plus, you would get an explanation as to why he thought you’d never find out, why he thought you were the perfect person to hurt so badly.

You remain silent as you unlock the door, peeling it open slowly to reveal a disheveled Chris staring back at you. His hair was in his face, his face unshaven since you left, eyes red and puffy. Your eyes trail down to where he’s holding a large bouquet of your favorite flowers, wondering how on earth he knew what they were.

He holds them out to you and you just look back up at him, turning around and heading back in, going back to your couch and flopping down, waiting for him to reach you.

You hear the door shut and shoes being taken off before you see him again where he’s walking through your living room, placing the flowers down gently on the coffee table before he sits next to you, taking a deep breath.

“Is there anything you want to know specifically?” He asks you, to which you scoff out a laugh at, rolling your eyes.

“Yeah, I’d love to know why you played the fuck out of me while the whole time you were fucking somebody else behind my back. I’d love to know how you even had the fucking time when I was sleeping over almost every night, and the days I wasn’t there, you were here.” You snap at him, voice quivering as you speak. You couldn’t help it, you were sad and confused and the confrontation only made it worse. “You made me look like a fucking idiot not only to myself but in front of your brothers, too, and that is so fucking mean, Chris. I should’ve known it wasn’t all an act, you really are a fucking dick to me. There’s no way you could’ve treated me like that for the last however many years and it not be real.”

Chris sucks in a breath at the insult, your words feeling like a dagger to his heart. “It’s not true,” he croaks out. “Nick was wrong, he didn’t know what he was talking about.”

You shake your head, cutting him off. “You got caught, Chris, and now you’re trying to pick up the pieces. It’s over.”

Chris felt lightheaded, that sentence echoing loudly in his head. It’s over. It couldn’t be over, you guys still have so much more life to live together.

“No,” he starts, scooting closer. “No, no, you said you’d hear me out so hear me out. You’ve got this all wrong, Nick was wrong. I wasn’t seeing anybody but you, I wasn’t sleeping with anybody but you, you’re it for me, you’re my dream girl, please believe me.” Chris was full on pleading now, his own eyes welling with tears as he spoke. “I cannot lose you, you don’t understand how deep this runs for me. I’ll let you go through my phone, my texts, my instagram, fucking anything just to prove to you.”

You have to tear your eyes away from the begging boy beside you, afraid you’ll give in too easily if you stare him in the face. “Say whatever you want to say and then get out of my house.” You tell him, voice monotone.

Chris releases a shaky breath, knowing this is the only chance he’ll get. “Okay. I guess I’ll just tell you what I think you should know. I would never hurt you like that, I would never risk losing you for something so stupid like a date or sex. I’ve been thinking about you being mine for so long that even I wouldn’t be so dumb, I swear to you. The date Nick was talking about was a business meeting for my brand, he just assumed because he saw I was out to dinner and didn’t know where I was. I told you about that dinner, I literally left your place to go there. I already talked to him about it and he feels really bad for making you think that I was on a date. And the girl? Maya? I haven’t talked to her since before the wedding, she hasn’t even texted me, and I‘ll show you my phone, we haven’t talked. But I kept leaving and not coming back for hours or coming home with hickeys and they kept noticing so I had to tell them I was somewhere and I just said I was seeing her because you still wanted this to be between us.” Chris finally pauses and looks at you with a soft expression, hoping you would believe him. You didn’t speak though, staying still where you sat with your hands in your lap. “I could never live with myself if I lost you in such a stupid way.”

Your lip quivered and you dropped your eyes down to your hands, not wanting to cry again for the umpteenth time, especially in front of Chris, but the wave that hit you made it inevitable, a small, choked sob leaving your lips. “Why wouldn’t you say anything right then?” You ask him brokenly.

Chris scoots closer and places a hand on your thigh, other hand reaching for your cheek to pull your face up to his. “I was stunned in the moment, it all happened so fast. I didn’t even process anything until I had Nick damn near in a chokehold and Matt was trying to calm me down. He told me to give you space and that you needed time away so neither of us said something we don’t mean.”

You turn to face Chris, tears flowing freely from your eyes now as he spoke, emotions taking over. “I was so sad, Chris. I still am. I’ve been sitting here wallowing in my feelings for fucking days just thinking about how badly this hurt and how hard I fell for you.”

Chris’s thumb brushes over your cheek, listening to your words intently. “I know, baby, I know and I’m so sorry. I really am. I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”

“Why would you even think of bringing her up? Why did she even come to your mind when they asked you where you were? You could’ve just said you were with a girl but the fact that you told them you were with her is like… a punch to the face.” You tell him sadly, wiping your tears frustratedly. “Is she still on your mind?”

Chris immediately shakes his head, eyebrows furrowed. “No, absolutely not. She’s just.. sorry, she’s the last person I slept with and they knew about her so it was the easiest thing so they didn’t ask questions. She’s definitely not on my mind.”

You think over his words, still feeling apprehensive about it all, but wanting nothing more than to believe him. “I just don’t understand why you let me leave under the impression that you were seeing somebody else, Chris. It just makes me think you took these days to think of a good enough lie before coming here.”

Chris sighs, shoulders dropping in defeat. “I told you, I just panicked. I swear on everything, I swear on my brothers, baby, I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

You finally allow yourself to take in Chris’s disheveled appearance, realizing he looked just as bad as you did. He looked miserable.

“It’s gonna take a lot for me to fully trust you again but… I want to believe you so bad. So I do.” You tell him quietly. You’ve never seen such relief on Chris’s face before this moment, the way his eyes lit up and the corners of his lips curled, a breath of relief falling from his mouth.

“Thank you,” he says, reaching both hands out towards you in the hopes you’d close the gap between you both. “I’ll earn your trust back, I promise.”

You sniffle and nod, scooting closer so that you could swing your legs over his lap, resting your head on his shoulder. The room is quiet for a few moments, Chris gently rubbing your thigh with one hand while he held you close with the other, before you clear your throat gently. “How’d you know my favorite flowers?” You ask timidly.

Chris looks down at you, sucking in a deep breath. He knew this was the moment where he told you how he really felt and how deep it actually ran.

“You and Matt had a conversation a couple years ago and you guys were talking about flowers and you said these were your favorite, so I remembered in the hopes of getting to buy you them some day,” Chris starts out. “I don’t know if you remember when we went on that date and you yelled at me saying I didn’t know anything about you?”

You nod against his shoulder, prompting him to continue.

“I always made plans on your birthday because I thought you wouldn’t want me around. I always made sure I was busy, just so I didn’t have to deal with the disappointment of not being invited somewhere. I’ve always known when it is.” He sighs nervously, swallowing before continuing. “There’s a canvas in my room and it’s just all different shades of the same color; I’ve had it for about a year. I painted it after you posted this one photo to your instagram, the one where you have no makeup on and you’re facing the sun. I thought your eyes looked so pretty in that picture and I couldn’t tell you, so I painted them instead. Baby, I have been painfully in love with you for years and I’m not about to lose you over some stupid shit my brother said.”

You were blown away by his words, not even being able to comprehend someone being so head over heels for you that they’d do these things for you and suffer in silence, all because he thought your feelings towards him were nothing but negative. How would you possibly be able to stay away from him ever again, knowing what you know now?

You didn’t think you wanted to.

Chris slid you off his lap and sat you facing forward on the couch, moving to get on his knees in front of you, hands grabbing your own and holding them close to his chest. “I love you,” he tells you, not a shadow of a doubt in his voice. “I want to do this. For real.”

You stared down at the man in front of you, broken at the thought of losing you, but fulfilled at the thought of calling you his. It seemed like a no brainer.

“I guess I could suffer through being your girlfriend a little bit longer,” you tease, a smile lighting up your face.

Chris grinned with you, pushing himself up until your faces were aligned, lips molding together like you were made for each other.

Turns out your love wasn’t all smoke and mirrors.

-

a/n: (‘:

my babies are finally together

i’m so happy this is over!

thanks so much for all the love <3

feel free to send requests based on these characters or requests for new fics I love u guys so much always

- avery

taglist

@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @mattslolita @ifwdominicfike @sophand4n4 @chris-hallelujah @sophsturns @ariana2saucyy @045696 @scorpioosworld @byhrxb @vickytaa @taelovesmattsturniolo @secret-sturniolo @theboredknightcat-blog @slvtf0rchr1s @flouqissss @gabri3la-sturns @delilahsturniolo @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @vanillsstuff @sturnlsstuff @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @mattsbrat @mattsfavoritestar @dominicfikeenthusiast @certified-sturniolo @chrisslollipop @mattsside @sofiaaguilaxx @idrk2292 @dylansfavwife @pvssychicken @sturnl0ve @sturnioloangelxoxo @afilmbykay @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @r0s3luvr @milasturniolo @mattsdillion @birkinbratsworld @sturnburbs @aria003 @poppingmypussy4chris @victoryouactuallydidthis @seluky10 @annsx03 @ouchywow @sluttybitchformattsturniolo

[ssongsboo]

─────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────

─────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────

❕ : happy sion day ᰔᩚ

⟢ she keep me going .ᐟ

the lingerie was supposed to be a surprise.

a look-but-don’t-touch-yet moment.

but then he kissed you like he missed you from the other room, like the day wasn’t long enough to be apart. and your knees just sort of… hit the floor on instinct.

“fuck, baby,” he groans, head thrown back as your lips wrap around him. “you’re too good to me.”

your mouth’s full and your hands are busy- one pumping what you can’t fit, the other gripping his thigh to keep yourself grounded. it’s messy already, spit sliding down your chin, lipgloss smudged into a sticky ring at the base of his cock.

you’re trying to impress him. to give him something to remember when he closes his eyes tonight.

and you are.

but sion’s eyes catch something else- something behind you- and his breath stutters.

“fuck-”

you blink up at him, confused, lips still wrapped around his dick. he gently grabs your jaw, pulls you off with a wet pop, and angles your face toward the mirror on the far wall. your brows knit together, cheeks flushed, mouth shiny and open.

“look,” he pants. “look at yourself.”

you turn slightly, confused- until you see it.

your reflection. on your knees, back arched like a goddamn wet dream. and behind you, framed perfectly: the swell of your ass in that see-through lace, the way your thighs twitch every time you moan around him. and worst of all- the way your cunt clenches around nothing, desperate and fluttering like it misses him.

his cock twitches in your grip.

“you’re fucking dripping,” he growls. “sucking me off like a good girl but leaking all over the floor like you need to be split open. you like this?”

you nod, almost dazed. “i love it.”

“yeah? you like being seen?” he fists your hair, dragging your mouth back to his cock. “i’ll keep watching, baby. watch how pretty you look gagging on me.”

so he watches as your throat bulges, as tears glitter in your lashes, as your lips stretch around him. and behind you, the lace sticks tighter to your heat, slick making the fabric glisten. your hips grind subtly, needy, empty.

“fuck,” sion chokes out. “i’m gonna cum just watching you fuck yourself on air.”

you whimper around him, trying to take him deeper, and he loses it- hips jerking forward, hand tight in your hair, voice wrecked and raw as he spills down your throat.

you swallow all of it.

wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. blink up at him through glittering lashes.

he looks down at you like you’re a fucking miracle.

“get on the bed,” he growls. “mirror’s staying right where it is. i want you to see what i do to you. how good you are for me.”

[domm1etae]

bf!jungkook who couldn’t wait to have you up against the mirror

Jungkook’s gaze flickered to the full-length mirror beside you, an idea sparking in his eyes. Before you could process it, his hands were already on you, lifting you off the table and guiding you to stand in front of the mirror. You could feel the heat radiating from his body behind you, his lips ghosting along your neck as his hands slid down to your waist, pulling you back against him.

“Look at us” he whispered, voice a low rumble that sent a shiver through you. His hand traced a path along your stomach before slipping lower, a teasing touch that had you arching back into him, his dark eyes meeting yours in the mirror.

He tilted your chin with a firm grip, making sure you were looking straight at your reflection as his lips brushed over your ear. "I want you to see exactly how good you look when you’re with me." His words were a delicious tease, making your cheeks heat up as you felt his arousal press into you from behind.

With a confident grip on your hips, Jungkook slowly guided you to bend forward, keeping you balanced against the mirror as he pressed himself against you, the anticipation building between you both. His hand slid up to tangle in your hair, pulling your head back slightly so you couldn’t look away from the mirror, couldn’t miss a single movement, a single look on his face as he began to move.

The first thrust was slow, almost reverent, as if he wanted you to feel every inch. His gaze held yours in the reflection, a wicked smile spreading as he saw the way you bit your lip, your body already responding. His rhythm quickened, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through you, the sounds of your combined moans and the steady rhythm filling the room.

“You like seeing yourself like this, don’t you?” he murmured, a teasing edge to his voice as he nipped at your shoulder, each word punctuated by the sharp thrust of his hips. His fingers slid between your thighs, adding to the dizzying sensation, amplifying every movement as his other hand gripped your hip, pulling you back to meet him.

With each thrust, he watched your reflection, captivated by the way you reacted to him, the way your body molded to his every touch. “You’re mine.” he murmured, his voice rough with need. The look on his face was one of pure possession, as if he could never get enough.

When he finally reached his peak, he pulled you back against him, his breathing rough and ragged as he pressed his forehead to your shoulder, grounding himself in your warmth. His hands remained firm on you, keeping you close as he caught his breath, a satisfied, mischievous smile spreading across his face as he finally let you go, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror.