#she had long hair and it touched my hand

[scribl1ta]

A girl fell asleep with her head on my shoulder on the bus today

[fushitoru]

back to the kittty, cause she's kinda pretty!

pairings ⸺ (SEPERATE) bf!sukuna x reader x toji, masseuse!nanami x reader, bully!suguru x reader, childhood best friend!choso x reader, best friend!gojo x reader

summary ⸺ jjk men as overused p0rn tropes! (part 2) inspired by this awesome post by the cool and super talented @/osamucide! pls check it out and the rest of his work :3

warnings ⸺ SMUT (mdni), sub!satoru supermacy, porn no plot, vaginal sex, doggy, fem reader, "sloppy seconds," pre-established consent for all, reader accidently eats an aphrosidiac for choso's, bullying in suguru's, oral (m and frecieving), fingering, semi-public humiliation, lowk pathetic toji, art by 3aem, nOT EDITED

a/n choso's is my favorite yet again i love a pathetic man that rails me into next tuesday <3

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

KAMO CHOSO ⸺ MY HOT CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND ATE SOME WEIRD CHOCOLATE AND WANTS ME TO DICK HER DOWN!

Your best friend, Choso, was lounging on his couch, flipping through different movie options on Netflix while you were in the kitchen, bending and squinting through the different options. It’s a Friday night, and the both of you opted to stay in for movie night.

“Choso!” You complained, huffing while putting your hands on your hips to shout at him in the living room. “Why do you only have fuckin protein shakes and raw chicken in your fridge?”

All you get is a noncommittal shrug while he pauses on the preview for some shonen anime. “There should be some chocolate.”

Gasping in excitement, you go back to rummaging through his fridge like a raccoon and there you find it—-a pink chocolate box titled “tabs.” Smiling to yourself in excitement, you don’t hesitate before popping on of the bars in your mouth, appreciating the cherry flavor while grabbing another one. With your mouth full, you ask, “Do you want one? These are sooo good, where'd you buy them?”

“Nah, I’m good. Just come over here, you’ve been taking too long.” He sends you a glare and motions for you to sit next to him, to which you set the chocolate back in the fridge and pad your way over to him. “I think Sukuna bought these off the internet and that they were kinda bougie.”

You look at him, slightly alarmed. “Isn’t he going to kill you?”

He looks over at you—a little softly, you note—and ruffles your hair, to your dismay. “It’s okay, I’ll buy it again for him. Gonna blame your big back ass for it being gone.”

“Die.” You stick your tongue out, crossing your arms while settling into his side. 

Choso noted that you were being a bit more cuddly than usual, touching him more as soon as you got onto the couch. He decides to ignore it. “Ok, we’re going with Spider-man, k?”

You nodded into his side—he could tell you were flushed by the way you had continued to grow warmer and warmer, with beads of sweat dotting your temple. He paid it no mind, choosing instead to click on the movie and watch it play.

You were heating up. 

You tried to ignore it, because you hadn’t felt feverish before or done anything in particular to cause you to be sick (your coffee and ramen diet had been fixed after midterms season after Choso got on your ass about it). But about 25 minutes into the movie, you couldn’t bear it anymore, your vision blurring at the edges as you mumbled, “‘ts too hot. Gonna take off my shirt.”

Choso, who had been focused on the movie, tensed and looked at you, eyes slightly widened. “Wh—” Before he could even get a word out, you stood up—eyes slightly unfocused—arching your back while grabbing the bottom hem of your t-shirt and peeling it off, causing Choso to gulp as you uncovered the swell of your breasts in your red lace bra. You went back to borrowing yourself on his side, the softness of your boobs pressing against his arm. 

Choso closed his eyes because there was nooo way he was popping a boner for his best friend. No way. As both of your eyes went back to the movie, Choso focused on reciting the Japanese National Anthem to distract himself from the soft breaths you were letting out near his ears—and the way they tickled them—as well as the rise and press of your chest against his arms as you heaved. 

You, on the other hand, did not feel relieved. At all. There was a stickiness in between your thighs that made you think your period had started, but it had ended a week ago. You were probably just ovulating. Cuddling into Choso further, you put your legs on either side of his torso, burying your face into his neck and taking a deep sniff. At this point, you ignore the movie as you tried the soothe the heat that was going through you.

“What are you doing?” Choso was ram–rod straight and turned to peer down at you incredulously while reciting in his brain, until the tiny pebbles, grow into massive boulders. 

You continued your whiffing—-he just smelled sooo good—and sobbed, “I don’t know, but it hurts.” At this point, the feeling between your thighs was unbearable. You started to subtly grind on the side of his torso, much to Choso’s surprise. “‘M sick, Cho, but I’ve been eating healthy! I promise!” you whined. “Except for the chocolate right now. It hurts!”

At that moment, he knew he fucked up.

These were the tabs chocolates Sukuna was buying for his girlfriend. The ones viral on social media for serving as aphrodisiacs.

“Fuck,” he groaned while you continued to rub yourself onto him, now fully moaning and sighing as you tried to chase relief.  “Fuck! I fucked up.”

“Choso,” you whined loudly, prompting him to leave his state of anguish to look at you worriedly. “I feel so empty.”

Choso snapped.

Bent over, face buried in a pillow on the couch, Choso rams into your creamy, wet pussy, the squelching sounds echoing across the empty apartment. Punctuating his words with a thrust, “is-” plap! “what-” plap! “you-” plap! “wanted?”

“Yes!” you squeal, body bouncing as his rough snaps of his hips jostled you around, “You’re making me feel so good, Cho!”

“Do you know how much of a tease you’ve been?” he growled, balls hitting your ass as he pulled a hand back to spank you, red handprint imprinting itself on your cheeks. He groans at the sight of him leaving his mark on you. “Gonna take my cum, right?”

FUSHIGURO TOJI AND SUKUNA RYOMEN ⸺ I GET MY BEST FRIEND’S SLOPPY SECONDS! (a/n lol im not gonna lie this is just me ovulating and wanting to be creampied by two men)

Whenever Toji was at Sukuna’s place, it was like you, his girlfriend, pretended he wasn’t there. Because why were you always dressed in the tiniest of shorts and a tank top that could barely even hold your tits in and keep them covered? Sometimes, Toji thought it was Sukuna’s play—dangling you in front of him like a piece of meat, reminding him what he couldn’t have. 

Sukuna and Toji did have a bit of a…competitive friendship—one of good nature, of course. Toji, nonchalant as he is, didn’t really care whether he lost or not in the little skirmishes they had, whether it be seeing who can lift the most at the gym or walk somewhere faster. But he’s definitely seen Sukuna eye his groin in a mental competition to see if he was bigger or not.

Safe to say, Sukuna relished in the win. In a sense, he was obsessed with the submission. Not that Toji could care. He didn’t care when he flaunted his girlfriend around, groping you in front of him just to make him feel jealous…right?

Because why was his dick hard, him all hot and bothered as he listens to your moans and the plap! plap! plap! and squelches of Sukuna’s dick drilling in you? You’re both in the room, and Toji’s in the living room, confused as to why the fuck Sukuna asked him to come over when you clearly had a dick appointment with him. 

“Mmm, Sukuna you’re making me feel so good!” You whine, and Toji curses, closing his eyes and cursing whatever god was out there to make him subject to such torture. In his gray sweatpants, his bulge is undeniable as he hears Sukuna pleasure you. 

Then, he hears Sukuna call out to him, jumping as the other man yells, “Yo, Toji. I know you’re out there, man. Come in!” He then laughs meanly, speeding up to silence whatever protests you were making. Toji curses once again and moves to open the door just for his eyes to widen at what he’s seeing.

There is an obscene amount of cum oozing from your hole, it looked battered and swollen from the abuse Sukuna has dealt to it. There are tears in your eyes, a pretty pout on your face as Sukuna continues to use you as your fucktoy. And Toji realizes that Sukuna is looking at him while his hips languidly gyrate into you.

 “‘kuna–” you sob, embarrassed and cheeks heating up even further as you felt Toji’s eyes rove over your form, utterly decimated by Sukuna.

But you’re interrupted out of any potential protests you can make as Sukuna smacks your ass—Toji’s eyes not missing the jiggle—as he abruptly pulls out and motions Toji to come closer. “I’m gonna let him borrow you, okay baby? You see, Toji’s kind of pathetic here. Might as well give him sloppy seconds, right?”

With that, Toji is moaning as he slowly enters you, your pussy sweetly clamping on his dick as he can literally feel Sukuna’s cum every time he thrusts. The utterly debauched feeling of his still-hot come lubricating his every thrust makes his eyes roll back, lost in the feeling of your pussy as you whimper and squeal everytime he hits your g-spot.

“Yo,” and Toji’s attention is temporarily swayed to Sukuna, who’s watching the both of you with darkened eyes, manspread in a chair. “Come inside, okay? It’s my treat.”

NANAMI KENTO ⸺ DIRTY MASSEUSE GIVES HOT BABE A DEEP TISSUE MASSAGE! (WITH A HAPPY ENDING)

Working in corporate was hell.

Sitting in a chair all day slaving away at spreadsheets and emails was definitely not something your younger self imagined you doing, but alas, you were only but a slave to capitalism. Even your hip flexors could feel it—they were tight, and your upper back hurt a lot.

So, here you were, in the waiting room of this bougie massage salon that you decided to treat yourself to. After all, you’ve been a good girl with your savings, making sure not to spend loads on stress-virtual-shopping so you can blow lots of bucks into this 2 hour service. The lobby is neat and glamorous, as you wait while rubbing your back. You’re currently engrossed in watching a compilation of Moo Deng videos until a deep cough interrupts you. “Miss?”

You turn to face the rich, baritone voice that’s said your name, and then suddenly reeling back. In front of you was probably one of the most handsomest men you’ve ever seen, with blond hair and sharp cut facial lines. He’s rubbing his palms together, which seem laden with oil as he looks at you plaintively. “Shall we take it to the massage room?”

“Y–yes. We can do that,” you nervously affirmed, gathering your purse and belongings to tightly follow behind him. 

When you arrive at the room, the stoic man motions for you to get changed. “Please put on a towel. We’re going to be doing a deep tissue massage, so the towel will serve as a protective measure.”

You blush at the thought of this man seeing your body covered in nothing but a towel, but follow his directions regardless, putting your belongings in a corner while you step out of the changing room and into the massage room once again. You try to preserve your modesty as best you can as you go to lie down on the table. The only things you hear from him are the clinks of bottles as he rummages through different oils, uncovering them. The smell hits you dead on, soothing your senses already with the essential oils. 

And then, his rough, big hands are on your back, pressing into your shoulder blades. You jump, like a scared deer, and he lets out a deep chuckle. “My bad. I’ll be doing your back side first.”

“Okay,” you whisper in response, already closing your eyes in bliss with the way he’s roving his thumbs over the planes of your back, pressing in deep as he works out the kinks in your back.

In one particular spot in your lower back and hips—the one that’s been hurting like a bitch because of your endless time sitting in a chair—he presses his thumbs with the exact right pressure, and you moan.

You can’t help it—the chronic back pain has always been there, but he makes it disappear with a languid movement of his fingers over your back. But he pauses slightly as soon as the whimper comes out of your mouth. “Miss, are you alright?” Flushing, you are quick to affirm. “Yes, sorry.” With a lower voice, you say, “That was, um, that was just really relieving.”

He laughs melodically and continues his ministrations, going even lower, but pausing right before putting his hands on your ass. “May I pull the towel up? Direct contact will be helpful in this region for a deep tissue massage.”

“Y-yeah,” you say softly. “You can do that, you’re the professional.” He’s just doing this for massage reasons, right? With your consent, he slowly inches up your towel to uncover your bare ass to him, you clenching your thighs with the fact that he can see everything.

He then puts his hands on the fat of your ass, moving his hands in a circular motion that spreads your ass every time he moves in an outward rotation. Kento’s trying really hard to stay professional, but seeing your glistening wetness makes him groan inwardly. “Miss,” you perk up slightly as he refers to you, “I’ll continue with the deep tissue massage as requested, okay? There’s a spot that I believe really needs my attention.”

Innocently, you nod, and Kento can’t help but feel so aroused that you’re so naively believing him, letting him touch you as if it’s an appropriate part of his job. His hands inch closer and closer, and soon enough he’s fingering you while languidly licking you up.

“Does this feel good, miss?” Kento is out of breath as he nudges his nose deeper into your pussy while you’re squealing at the feeling of his fingers slamming into your g-spot, sending jolts of pleasure down your spine. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he goes in, sucking at your clit just perfectly.

“It’s rude not to answer someone,” your masseuse gives you a slap, and quickly soothes it over. 

“‘M sorry!” you squeal, bucking your hips as soon as you feel like you’re getting closer, “It feels soo good.” With that, he pauses his ministration to give you a gentle kiss on your pussy, and the plush of his lips is enough to set you squirting, riding his face as you drench him in your juices. Safe to say, you were feeling very de-stressed.

GOJO SATORU ⸺ BEST FRIEND CATCHES HIM MASTURBATING, JOINS IN ON THE FUN!

Satoru groans, squeezing his ball at the base to avoid cumming prematurely. What he was originally doing was trying to find some porn to empty his balls to, releasing stress and gaining dopamine from masturbating. But eventually—like he’s been doing a lot these days—his fingers direct him to your Instagram profile. You, his best friend.

 Satoru does this in secret, waiting until he’s alone in his and Suguru’s apartment to go into his room, close the door, and sin by thinking of you in a way friends don’t of each other. So, he’s trying not to bust too early while he zooms in on your tits in the cute bikini picture you posted just last week, the ones he took of you. The pixels of your magnificent breasts zoom in, sweat and water glistening off of them as your bra hugs and makes them sit just right. He groans, throwing his head back as he feels his cockhead pulse again, deciding to end his edging to cum. 

In his focus on stroking his dick—the squelching and whines echoing in his room—he doesn’t notice the sound of the door opening. Nor of the footsteps heading towards his door, because he moves his hand up and down, up and down, up and down until he’s so close to cumm—-

“Satoru! I got us some mochi!” You yell loudly, and Satoru screams in return, albeit for a different reason. As your head whips up to look at him, alarmed at his shout, you register that his cock and balls are out. And that, in his left hand, is a photo of you. 

You blink, and Satoru blinks back, except with a red, throbbing length in his hand. Then, slowly, you ask, “Why is my picture open, Satoru?”

Satoru swallows, already hearing funeral bells and utters out, “I—I—that was a mistake. I meant to be on Pornhub. Haha! I mean,” he continues on rambling, “why would I be looking at your picture? Obviously, my hand slipped while I was jerking off I mean—” he cuts himself off, because in his yapping, he’s failed to notice how you’ve stalked over to his bed, now straddling him while spitting on his cock.

“Fuck,” he curses, as his pupils dilate watching the thicky, frothy mix of your spit ooze down from your pursed lips onto his dick. “W–what are you—” You motion for him to stand up, orienting yourself so that your throat was hanging off the bed and you were on your back on his mattress. 

“Since you’re so desperate,” you give him a deadly sweet smile as he stands, dick above your face. You give his tip a little kiss, and he shivers. “You can fuck my throat.”

Satoru definitely takes you up on that offer.

He can’t even believe that he’s here, you deepthroating his dick so nice. “Thank you, thank you,” he whines, gyrating his hips sloppily into the tight, wet heat of your mouth as your lips suckle on him. “Needed this so, so much.” You’ve even uncovered your tits, them bouncing nicely as Satoru continuously lodges himself in your throat. “Please, please let me cum.”

You gently push against his hips, indicating you want him out of your mouth. Raspily, you wipe the trail of spit that’s left your mouth and laugh meanly and give him a deceptively sweet kiss on his balls. “You have to last at least 10 more minutes, okay?”

And Satoru can do nothing but obey you, driving himself to the hinge of climax but never over, whimpering as your mouth swallows him up. 

GETO SUGURU ⸺ BIG DICKED BULLY FUCKS CUTE ANIME GIRL INTO SUBMISSION!

Your safe haven is your library. There, the man who’s been torturing you for most of your college career, Suguru Geto, doesn’t know where you hide, nor does he frequent the place. You’re focused in on your assignments right now, having fallen behind due to Suguru’s antics of bothering you and disturbing your peace to humiliate you across campus. It’s late at night, and there’s not a lot of people to disturb you. You thought.

You’re wrenched out of your state of focus as someone harshly pulls your chair back, grabbing your chin to meet your eyes with his. Your bully, Suguru.

 You gasp in surprise as he roves his eyes over you and what you’re wearing. A short skirt, one he dare wouldn’t admit made you look cute, and a sweater. Silently, he sits down while you tremble, looking at him with shaky eyes that makes his cock swell in his pants.

He smirks. “You thought you could hide from me?” He then ticks his head towards your textbook. “Whatcha reading? Recite it to me.” 

Even though you were confused as to why he would have you do that, you hurried to do as he said. Meanwhile, his siren eyes roved over your form, choosing to settle in between your thighs.

“Schroedinger’s theory had proved classical physicists wro—-“ You’re interrupted by your own gasp, because Suguru’s laid a hand that’s gently caressing your inner thigh.

“Go on,” he purrs, getting closer and closer to the heat of your pussy.

You swallow and go on. “…had proved classical physicists wrong, showing that unexplained phenomena in spectroscopy and atoms demonstrated discrete—-“

Meanwhile, he’s inched his hand inside of your panties, softly rubbing at your clit in a manner unbecoming of the mean Suguru you know. Before you know it, your orgasm was creeping up on you, and your legs were trembling while Suguru buried his face in your neck, giving you soft kisses. 

“Cmon, you slut,” he whispered, the softness of his voice contrasting with the harshness of his words, “are you too stupid to read?”

You whimper as he delves a finger into your hole, collecting the ooze there and going back to your clit. “…atoms demonstrated discrete properties, referred to as quanta—-“ It’s with a nasty lick to the shell or your ear that you’re cumming, squealing loudly as you cream on his fingers, humiliated at the show you were forced to put on in the library.

Suguru pulls his fingers out and sucks on them languidly, looking you in the eye. “Now slut, you’re going to do that seated on my dick. Got it?”

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

a/n hiii pookies this was late sorry </3 but ANYWAYS im excited to write (and ride) cowboy geto and spiderman!gojo next! consider joining my kinktober taglist if you're interested <3 part 1 of this here btw

comment and reblog to let me know ur thots :p

TAGLIST

@sugoroo @ryutotsukai0824 @sharkubi @lisvanrouge @mxlktae

@samisfunky @achbbys000 @xd3pr3ss3dx @jottositto @cheescakebroom

@r0ckst4rjk @callmeagardengnome @rottmntrulesall @blankwashed @sindulgent666

@honeynanamin @obsessgurlll @starrnai @herefor-tojis-tits

[logansbaby]

GUILTY AS SIN - Logan Howlett

❥ summary: the entire time you’ve known logan howlett, you’ve tried to keep your longings locked. then, one night, all that effort goes to waste when you’re confronted about your feelings.

word count: 8.5k (IM SORRY!!!!)

pairings: logan howlett x fem! mutant reader

content warnings: 18+ CONTENT MDNI, masturbation, dirty thoughts, light choking, multiple orgasms, oral (reader and logan receiving), spitting, sixty-nining, scent kink, like one spank, underwear stays ON, slight hint of arousal from crying?, creampie, p in v (practice safe sex ty!)

❥ a/n: guys…… am i…. a whore? (yes) do i need to be locked up? (also yes). i started this when i was on my period so maybe that’s the reason this is so filthy? anyway i don’t know how it got to 8k of smut but it DID and i have nothing to say about that… also reader has a mutation it’s not super in depth but her hair changes to red in certain situations and she has red light/energy she manifest in her hands, kind of confusing but it’s okay. anyway please please enjoy and let me know your thoughts <3

— ˚｡⋆⟡♡⟡⋆｡˚

‘I keep recalling things we never did

Messy top lip kiss

How I long for our trysts

Without ever touching his skin

How can I be guilty as sin?’

Guilty as Sin? - Taylor Swift

— ˚｡⋆⟡♡⟡⋆｡˚

THE SHEETS are chilled, crisp to the touch, cold enough that shivers tickle their way across exposed skin. A sigh is heard, loud enough for wandering ears as a figure moves about in the unmade, blanket muddled bed. The window had been left open, and as a result, cold air had poured into the room.

Despite the fact that goosebumps adorn your body, it felt as though you were on fire. Huffs escaped parted lips, a charged hum zipping through your veins that only intensified each time you moved. You’d been trying to sleep for the past couple hours, trying to ignore the need thrumming through you, but had only managed to fail.

You turn on your side for possibly the twentieth time, but the position only worsens your state as the flesh of your thighs squeeze unintentionally, a wave of brief relief sent to your throbbing core. Tears brim your lashes, damp with frustration because fuck, your body was humming with lust and everything was so, so sensitive.

This was all Logan’s fault.

The man has been gone less than a week and yet, your body was practically vibrating with need, trembling with desire.

The feelings you harbor make you feel shameful and guilty for a handful of reasons.

Logan was not your boyfriend; he wasn’t even a friend. While he was cordial with the others in the mansion, he remained cold and indifferent toward you.

You pretended it never bothered you when he pointedly ignored your greetings in passing or refused to partner up with you. You didn’t understand what you’d done to upset him, to warrant his treatment of you as if you were the most annoying person on the planet. More often than not, you are the subject of the man’s pointed glare.

So, logically, your heart shouldn’t race at the mere thought of him. Nor should desire pool between your thighs whenever images of his sweaty form cloud your mind.

By definition, you were immensely smart; a genius with how you could understand what others could not.

Though, you were only human and Logan fucking Howlett was a man worth embarrassing yourself over, especially when he looked like he did.

He wasn’t, your mind huffed.

He was, your heart retorted.

A memory comes forward, one that has your cheeks blushing, your chest rising a little faster than before.

A couple weeks ago, you’d been up late, struggling to sleep and with the way it evaded you, wandering the halls had been your solution, in hopes of tiring yourself out.

But when you had walked down your hallway, you froze at the sight of a shirtless Logan in his room, the door left ajar.

A towel covered his head as he scrubbed away the wetness in his hair, and you desperately hoped he hadn’t noticed your presence. Water dribbled down his muscular body, and your eyes greedily watched each droplet descend down, glistening against the tan stomach you wanted to bite. What really had you drooling, however, was the thick, prominent vein that crept down into the waistband of his gray sweatpants. Said pants had your eyes wide with the prominent bulge tented in the material.

When you just barely caught yourself from moaning, you had dashed back to your room right away. You were wide awake still, but for a completely different reason. All you could think about was tracing your tongue along that vein.

If you’d fucked yourself that night to the thought of him and his glistening torso, no one had to know.

So theoretically, if you gave in to your cravings, it wouldn’t be the first time, but it certainly wouldn’t make you feel any less guilty.

Scarlett hues dust your cheekbones, lips bitten until they’re swollen and shiny with spit. Your breasts ache from inside the confines of the pink, lacy shirt, made worse with each labored breath you inhale as perky nipples brush the material. Your hole feels incredibly empty, the need to be filled overpowering. Your clit, puffy and neglected, throbs with pure, searing need.

Another wave of aching pleasure from your wetness breaks your resolve— a shaky hand slipping from its place on your stomach down, down, down until cold fingers meet the mess between your thighs.

A gasp sounds, melodic as it swirls with heavy breathes, fluttering around the room as you brush over your clit. Even through the material of your underwear, the slight pressure of your fingers made you mewl.

Flashes of Logan dance behind closed lids, your imagination running wild while you messily swirl over your bundle of nerves.

You wanted him so, so bad, in every way possible, it actually hurt, both your heart and core.

Your mind submerges your consciousness with thoughts of him; his pretty hazel eyes, the slope of his nose, the tufts of his brown hair. The muscles that were constantly on display, his thick thighs that you wanted to ride until you came all over him, and the huge bulge that was ever present in those flattering jeans of his (and if it was a reoccurring fantasy of yours to ride that delicious bulge over his jeans until you both came from just dry humping, again— no one had to know).

Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t stop thinking about Logan.

Him hovering over you, dog tags swinging in your face as he fucked you hard. Him picking you up and taking you against the nearest surface, lips trapped in an erotic kiss. Him prying your thighs open as he licked up your pussy, tongue dipping into your hole to lap up all the desire pooling, his lips wrapping around the swollen bud and sucking violently. Him holding your face lovingly as his hips thrusted his cock deeper into your throat, groans spilling at the gag you’d let out.

You were split between wanting to sink down onto his cock and rut your swollen nub against the curls that nestled the base of him and stuffing his dick down your throat, gagging around him until he came and coated your throat with his spend.

You didn’t even bother to remove the damp underwear, instead circling the engorged bud over the material— and oh, fuck. The roughness of the lace mixed with the delicious rubbing of your fingers send little moans tumbling from parted lips.

Your unoccupied hand slips under the shirt covering your chest and only settle once your nipple is pinched between determined fingers, rolling the pert bud in tandem with the amorous touch of your hand on your sex.

Pleasure nips at your pelvis, and if you were a little more aware, you’d be embarrassed at how fast you to reaching your peak. But, as it is, your brain is completely hazy with wanton thinking and the only thing on your mind was lessening the ache that pulsates deep within you.

And fuck, you’re so fucking needy for logan that you try to pretend it’s his fingers abusing your clit, his fingers tugging at the sensitive buds of your chest. You want his tongue between your thighs, licking up your desire and sucking your puffy bud into his pretty mouth.

Chest rising rapidly, you feel overwhelmed at the fantasies swirling before your eyes. Its far too much— the mix of your filthy desires and your fingers rubbing your nub have your legs quivering as wetness coats your hand.

“Logan, Logan, Logan—“ The chant of his name mindlessly falls from you, the feeling of your orgasm washing over you, threatening to pull you under those soaring, unforgiving waves of pleasure.

Eyes snap shut, ears ring with white noise, and your hips hump your hand pitifully— you were an absolute, writhing mess against the sheets.

The hair messily strewn around your pillow shifts then from its natural state to a dark red. Even with your eyes shut, you could feel the vermillion light whirling at your fingertips, begging to be released.

Your mutation was not one of subtlety.

Searing bliss coils in your lower tummy, your button tingling with the after effects of the orgasm that crashed into you. You sigh, because even though you just came, you felt far from satisfied. Your body buzzes with sweltering hunger, all the way from the top of your head down to the tips of your toes. Even if you fuck yourself dizzy with another orgasm, you knew it won’t satiate your body. Not completely, anyway.

Before you could slip your fingers inside your weeping hole, a loud knock echos through your room.

You still; desperate and hoping that if you ignored the noise, whoever was knocking would simply go away. But when another rhythmic thump comes a few seconds later, you huff.

It’s well past midnight at this point, so who in their right mind would be going about and slamming their fists on your door?

Apparently, you arent moving fast enough when the person has the nerve to knock for a third time, hand a little heavier than before. A growl, tinged with annoyance, slips out as you fling yourself up and off the bed.

You stomp to the door, ready to tell the person on the other side to fuck off.

But when you actually swing open the mahogany door, all the anger simmering beneath your heated skin disappears, along with your breath, as your eyes take in the sight before you.

Logan Howlett stands before you, seemingly angry as a frown etches deep on his face. He glares at you, hazel eyes swarming with exasperation and something unknown.

And little did you know, all of your craziest, fatal fantasies were about to come true.

❥

The moment Logan steps into the mansion, finally back from the complete shit show of a mission Charles had sent him on, he tenses instantly.

His fingers clench into fists, tight enough that the skin turns white. The adamantium claws threaten to poke through his knuckles as he inhales deeply.

Big mistake.

That sweet, sweet scent swarms his heightened senses, the intoxicating smell nearly making him dizzy. His heart speeds up, his stomach flutters, and his cock twitches in the confines of his jeans.

Logan could fucking smell you.

It’s a heady aroma thats so completely you, that his body feels deranged, just about ready to march up those steps and break down your door.

He shakes himself loose from the metaphorical shackles of you and begins the journey to his room, trying to block out how delicious and syrupy you smell.

He decides then, as his body finally moves up the steps, that ignoring you is the best option.

But as he gets closer to the hallway he shares with you (just his luck, by the way!), he realizes that plan is a joke.

He feels his control slipping, especially as the heady scent grows stronger, tinged with something else— something erotic and salacious.

Logan curses, his entire being rigid.

You’re aroused, the smell seeping under the crack of the door giving you away instantly.

The idea of you whining as your pussy drips slick between your thighs has him grinding his teeth, fingers flexing and unflexing in an attempt to harness the control back to his body.

Though, it goes out the window entirely as his body is apruptly outside your door, unconsciously drawn to the very essence of you.

There’s a reason Logan has kept carefully crafted distance between the two of you.

The minute he was introduced to you, a new member of the x-men and teacher for the school, he knew he was fucked.

From the first look shared between you, he knew.

A pretty smile had graced your lips, eyes filled with joy as you greeted him, a hand outstretched in his direction as your hair swayed with your movements. In your cute, little outfit (a pretty, white lace dress that kissed the tops of your thighs, matched with baby pink pumps that accentuated your legs), he thought you looked like a princess.

He had stayed frozen, however, because he was assaulted with the fucking smell of you. It was nothing like he’d encountered before, and he’d been around for over a century.

Your scent was so fucking sweet, vanilla and honey permeated his nostrils and right in that moment, he wondered if you tasted as sweet as you smelt.

He knew that he had to keep his distance, otherwise he’d become addicted to you in every sense. If he let himself, he’d worship the very ground you walked on. He couldn’t risk having the walls he’d spent so long building to crumble.

And in an instant, he was angry that his body had reacted this way to someone he’d never even met. He was angry he wanted to press sweet kisses on your face while simultaneously wanting to fuck you on his cock until you screamed his name.

So, with that, he’d made up his mind.

He had simply glared at you, refused to acknowledge your existence and stormed out of Charles’ office. And since that day, he’s tried his hardest to pretend you didn’t exist— if only to ease the way you constantly haunted his every thought.

He pretended it didn’t kill him to see how your face would crumble at his rude behavior, at how he avoided you at all costs. He couldn’t help it, though, because if he treated you how he wanted, like the princess you were, he’d never let you go.

A sudden noise shakes him from the depths of his mind, that carnal, sensual essence growing stronger by the second.

“Logan, Logan, Logan,” your honeyed voice whines, all airy and light.

And it’s almost comical how the telltale snikt! sounds immediately after because what?

What the fuck? He thinks, mind utterly destroyed at the revelation that not only were you seemingly fucking yourself, but you were moaning his name.

Logan growls, low and dangerous as his claws reveal themselves, cutting through the skin of his knuckles. His body feels unnaturally hot, practically set on fire. His cock now uncomfortably hard in his jeans, lustful essence bubbling at his tip and no doubt staining his boxers.

With the wafts of your pretty aroma and sounds of your lewd whimpers, he knows he can’t resist you any longer.

His hand lifts, claws retracting as his heavy fist slams on your door.

And the sight of you, face shiny with a sheen of sweat has him choking on his own saliva.

Tonight was the night his control finally snaps, despite months of work put into avoiding you.

Logan knows his animalistic side is about to be released; he’s going to fucking ruin you.

❥

You gulp, a hand resting on the door frame as you stand frozen because honestly, what the fuck?

You deduce that the universe hates you because why? Why would the man you’d been thinking of while masturbating be right in front of you?

It only dawns on you when Logan’s gaze swipes over your figure that you’re basically naked. Clad only in your blushed, frilly top and the matching underwear, the latter soaked with both your arousal and release.

You shrink beneath his eyes, warmth simmering hot on the apples of your cheeks, and your mouth opens and closes, yet no words follow.

“Uh— Logan, hey!” Your voice is shaky, and whether it’s from the power of your release or the nerves that bumble beneath your skin at the man before you, you couldn’t tell. All you know is that you want the ground to swallow you up whole.

Logan doesn’t respond, just continues to stare at you in a way that you don’t understand. You assume he’s just gotten home from the very long mission, and confusion settles over you as to why he was at your door, especially considering how he badly despises you.

You’re about to voice that exact thought when Logan beats you to speaking.

“I heard you.” His gruff tone is coated in something darker than you’d ever heard before.

For a moment, you’re perplexed, brows furrowing and raising before your eyes go comically wide.

And— oh, oh.

“Can smell you, too.”

Heat licks at your whole body, embarrassment threatening to envelope you entirely. Tears of horror tickle your lash line, because this was probably the most painful moment of your life. Not only does the man hate you, but now he’s heard you moan his name as you came all over your fingers? How pathetic are you?

You open your mouth, an apology heavy on your tongue. You need to say something to quell the panic flooding your body— you’re never going to get over this

Though, before you can even speak, Logan slams his mouth onto yours.

He holds your head softly, a deep contrast to the way his lips melt over yours. A moan slips from your open mouth, the feel of his lips sucking at your bottom lip feels immensely intense and so, so good.

Your arms wrap around his neck, fingertips tangling themselves in the hair at his nape like you’ve wanted to do since the very day you met him.

“Logan—“ you whimper against his mouth, trying and failing to understand what the fuck was happening as he slips his tongue inside your wet, warm mouth. “Logan.”

He ignores you, grunting against your spit, slick lips as his hands travel down your curves, until they find purchase on your ass, gripping hard. A choked gasp spills from you as he suddenly paws at you, picking you up effortlessly in his strong arms.

The idea of him holding you up with no hesitation has your hips shuddering forward without your permission. Vaguely, you feel him move past the threshold of your door, slamming it shut before pressing your body up against the wood.

Logan switches between licking your tongue and sucking meanly at your lips, until they feel full and swollen with his attention. You’re pliant— almost willing to let him do anything he’d like to you.

Almost.

As good as his tongue feels dancing with yours, confusion still settles over your mind. Perhaps this was a dream and if that’s the case, you never want to wake up.

“Wait—wait.” You pull back, the questions swirling inside probing you until it’s impossible to ignore.

“Huh, baby?” Logan groans, teeth pulling at your bottom lip before sucking at the swollen skin.

Babybabybabybabybaby— the pet name clouds your senses for a second, a rush of arousal pooling at your hole. You want to cry at how that simple, simple word makes you feel.

“Stop that.” You mumble, pulling your head back and lips out of his reach.

Logan stares at you, silent but waiting as he waits for you say whatever is on your mind. Frankly, he wants his tongue to be buried deep in your cunt right about now, but, details.

“What is going on?” Breathless, the question settles between you, causing Logan’s brow to raise.

“Well, my tongue was just in your mouth—“ you slap his chest, face turning warm at his bluntness.

“Not that. I’m— why are you here? Why are you kissing me when you can’t stand me?” Your voice is quiet, insecurity present in your tone. Nimble fingers grasp the dog tags that rest on his chest, and you’ve never been grateful for it.

At that, Logan’s face scrunches up, confusion floating around his irises, lips curving downward.

“What are you talking about?” If it wasn’t for the genuineness in his voice, you would’ve smacked his chest again at how clueless he was.

“What do you mean? You’ve made it very clear how you feel about me; you’ve despised my entire existence the moment we met— wait, I can’t even say that because you didn’t even have the decency to greet me!”

Frustration hovers over you heavily, enough to snap you out of the lustful spell Logan often inflicts upon you. You slide down his body, ignoring the quiver of your cunt when you make contact with his jean clad bulge. You push at his chest, needing distance to ensure you actually get your words out and don’t end up back with his tongue down your throat.

“I don’t hate you.” Logan grunts out, staring at you as you pace the wooden floors of the room. Vaguely, he’s paying attention, but he can’t be blamed for the way his eyes focus on the way your ass shifts with each step, the plush skin so inviting as the lace cup each cheek. “What’re you on about?”

Frankly, Logan’s pissing you off. The vague answers are getting on your nerves, enough that you feel yourself snap.

Your hair swiftly turns bright red, a scarlet blossoming over the strands until they coat them completely. Your emotions could never quite be concealed, not with the way your hair would turn different variations of red when you were angry, furious, sad, happy, aroused.

“You’ve been a dick to me, treating me like shit for no reason and now you think you can just waltz in here and kiss me like that? You think you can pretend to want me when we both know that’s not true?”

Balls of fiery, red energy bloom at your fingertips, and though you stand in your pretty pink assortment, you look the part of threatening.

It’s too bad the abrupt display of your mutation, mixed with fiery words, has Logan’s cock jerking with want.

“Sometimes, I question whether or not you’re actually a genius.”

And just like that, you feel the words like a punch to the gut. You’re so mad, so blind by the intense emotions you feel for Logan, that you feel those pesky flames of energy moving up your wrist and forearm, a telltale sign of your anger.

“Fuck you, Logan.” You hiss, your fingers hot with the heat coursing through them.

What pisses you off more, to which your hair and eyes darken to a dangerous maroon, is the fact that Logan wears a faint smirk, watching you with humor as if you aren’t showcasing how pissed you are.

“Are you done yet?” Logan takes a step closer, uncaring of the way your mutation flares furiously at his presence.

“Logan, leave me alone. I don’t need you to sit here and pretend to want me. I don’t need you to make fun of me, either.” Huffing, you glare up at the man before you, who stares back just as pointedly.

You turn around, back facing him as you go to enter the attached bathroom when all at once, you’re spun back around by a hand on your nape, your neck in a delicious tight grip as Logan pulls you into his body, smashing his mouth on yours for the second time tonight.

Your body betrays you, a desperate whimper ebbs out at how fucking good Logan’s lips feel on yours.

His teeth bite down on your top lip, before suckling sweetly to combat the pain flourishing there. You moan, mouth falling open as he messily kisses you. The intoxicating taste of him swarms your tastebuds, his tongue swirling with yours in a way that leaves you dizzy with need.

A string of spit connects between your mouths as Logan pulls away, chuckling meanly when you promptly follow the warm wetness of his lips. A rough hand grips your throat again, tight enough to leave you feeling breathless but delicious enough to make your cunt squeeze around nothing.

“So that’s what you think, princess? That I don’t want you?” Logan’s fingers flex around your throat, gripping at your jaw to capture all of your attention. As if you were anything but than enamored with him. “You think that’s what I’ve been doing, huh?”

You can only stare up at him as your heartbeat rings loudly through your eardrums. A hand goes to tug at his shirt, an attempt to steady yourself, but Logan’s faster as he grabs your wrist.

“Answer me.” He whispers hotly as the hand holding yours captive moves to intertwine your fingers.

The touch of him, the hold on your throat and roughness of his fingers in yours, renders you speechless. You’re so overcome with your emotions that you can only manage to nod. The weight of you goes limp in his hold, silently begging him to do something to satiate the hunger burning every inch of you.

“Words, baby. Got nothing to say now, huh?” He taunts, his grip leaving your neck in favor of thumbing at your lips.

“Yes— I, it’s what it’s seemed like, what you’ve made me feel. Thought you hated me.”

Logan’s nose twitches, no doubt smelling your arousal as it leaks into the material covering you, ruining the lace.

“Couldn’t be more wrong,” He groans, pushing his thumb past the soft of your lips. His knees nearly buckle at the feel of your mouth closing and sucking his thumb, tongue rolling up against the skin as though it was his cock instead. “Shit, baby.”

You whine around his finger, eyes fluttering up at him in a way that has his dick aching for you.

“Fuck, been dreaming about you since the day we met. Been dreaming of you in every way possible.” He admits, a smile tugging at his lips at the way you freeze, lips leaving his thumb with a ‘pop’.

“What?” It’s a whisper, barely audible but he heard it all the same. The butterflies in your stomach are now having a complete rager, bolts of anxiousness kissing your skin.

“Of course.” Logan leanes down, pressing a kiss to your wet lips. “Knew the second I saw you you’d ruin me, so I just… stayed away. I never meant to make you think the worst. M’sorry, honey.”

This was not the way you’d expected tonight to go.

It’s as though all the confusion, anger, and sadness drain from you and, in its place,its full of the tremulous feeling of the admission.

And despite the fact that you’d fucked yourself thinking about him, and he’d heard, you feel incredibly shy. You drop your head to his hard chest, your hands squeezing his own where he holds them.

“I don’t know what to say.” You utter, brain all muddled and no other thoughts come forth as Logan haunts every inch of your mind. You feel like an idiot, even though Logan had acted like a dick for the better part you’d known him.

Logan simply lifts your head, invading your senses as his nose bumps yours.

“You were a dick.” It’s spoken factually, making him huff against your face.

“I know.”

“You could’ve kissed me months ago.”

“Can I kiss you now?”

His quick reply leaves you flushing, but when you nod, his lips are back on yours instantly, in their rightful place.

The kiss is messy; hot, wet, and dirty. Logan groans when you jump up, strong arms catching your thighs in a tight grip. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you lose yourself in the thrilling taste of his mouth. You unconsciously start humping him, dragging your drenched panties across his hard dick.

You suck on his tongue before capturing his lip between your teeth, nails dragging down his shoulder blades. A loud, feral growl escapes Logan, and without another thought, he throws your pliant body on the bed.

And at the sight of you, Logan feels like he’s about to come right then and there. In your skimpy outfit, so much plush, soft skin is on display. The hair tumbling from your shoulders has turned a dark cherry color during your kiss, and your hands are tickled with red energy that’s twirling up your arms, not unlike the way vines thread onto an old home.

This time, though, he knows you’re not upset, but instead, aroused.

He can smell the way your slick seeps from your fluttering hole, how it sticks to the skin of your thighs.

And fuck, he wants to sink his face right in front of your pussy and inhale until he’s woozy with the complete perfume of you.

So, that’s exactly what he does.

Your eyes widen as Logan drops onto the floor in front of the bed, yanking your body to the edge. Your lower half is completely in his grip, and he stares at you for a moment, eyes hazy with lust. Then, he’s pulling your pussy all the way up to his nose. The feel of him so close to your puffy lips has you clenching, even more so when he lowers his head and fucking sniffs you.

“Fuck, baby. Been dreaming of this since the minute I saw you. Smells so fuckin’ sweet.” Logan inhales deeply again, smattering messy, open mouthed kisses to the skin of your upper thigh. “You don’t know how many times I’ve wanted to throw you over my shoulder, get you alone and eat this pussy.”

“Logan!” You whimper out. The sound is completely feeble but you couldn’t care less, not with the way he’s sucking bruises into your skin. “Please, please.”

Spurred on by your whines, he sinks his canines into the skin, where your thigh meets the lips of your core.

Pain simmers into pleasure as the sting is followed by his tongue. Rosy splotches decorate your upper thighs, a preview of the bruises that will glaze the skin tomorrow. Logan does this until he’s satisfied with how his teeth imprint the skin. It’s as if it’s his way of solidifying that you’re his, like he’s staking his claim with his bruises smattering your thighs.

At some point your hand finds purchase in his hair, pawing at the tufts and tugging his face closer to where you need him most. He groans, the pain at his scalp sending jolts of desire throughout his body.

He sneaks a look up at you, and shit, you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. Your head is thrown back, sending those rebellious, red strands fluttering around you. Your hips are canting up to his mouth, and the smell of you, mixed with the previous orgasm you’d worked out before he interrupted, sends his senses in overdrive.

He knows he’d tortured you both enough when you can’t stop shivering with need, when his own hips brush against the edge of the bed. Without hesitation, Logan licks a long, wet stripe up your clothed pussy, suctioning around your enlarged clit.

The taste of you, heady, sweet, and so distinctly you, floods his tongue. He knew you’d taste good, but this? Oh, he wanted to drink you up all hours of the day.

With a growl, Logan tuggs the lace aside and loses it. He sucks, licks, and mouthed at your cunt like a man starved. His tongue dips into your hole before licking up and down your slit.

Moans of his name sound around the walls of your room, along with the filthy noise of his lips sucking your swollen button.

You’ve never felt like this before; the way he’s eating you out has your entire body on fire, and if you could see yourself, you’d see how ruby colored lines swirl all around your hands, how your hair practically glows with the intensity of your feelings.

He’d been attracted to you the minute he saw you— but the way you look when your mutation is at work? The way your hair grows shades of intoxicating reds and the way the fiery energy glows from the tips of your fingers to your elbows? Oh, how it fucking wrecks him. He just wants to keep you captive in this bedroom for all of eternity, if only to see you like this all the time.

“Feels so fucking good, fuck.” You’re a blubbering mess, hands tugging Logan’s hair hard, resulting in a moan that vibrates your pussy.

“Mine.” He grunts, and you gasp at the sensation of saliva as he spits directly onto your clit. “My fuckin’ pussy.”

Then, he latches his soft lips around your puffy bud and sucks hard. His dirty words and lucious mouth have your thighs shivering, hips bucking with insatiable need.

Like you’d done when you were alone and thinking about him, whimpers of ‘Logan’ slip past bitten lips as you rut against his face.

“That’s it, baby, say my name. Taste so fuckin’ good.” He humms against the slick, swell of your pussy.

A stream of ‘fuckfuckfuck’ is audible from open lips, forming an ‘o’ as the rush of delicious, hot pleasure pours over you completely.

As you come down, the pleasure fizzles out and overwhelming bursts of overstimulation bubble over you. Logan continues to lap at your wetness, groaning at your taste.

“S’too much, Logan.” Shaky hands grip his brown locks and you try and fail to bring the man away from your throbbing hole. His tongue laps at the taste of you, dipping in as deep as he could to savor every last drop. “Oh, fuck.”

“Taste too fuckin’ sweet, baby. Can’t help it.”

Logan grips tightly at your thighs, cruelly pinching at the flesh as he devours your pretty clit.

He can’t get enough, and seemingly, neither can you, with the way you buck into his warm, slick mouth despite the crushing pleasure. The material of your underwear snaps against you as Logan’s grip loosens, but he still eats you out as though there was no barrier.

His soft lips and dangerous tongue make it difficult to do anything but take the mind-numbing pleasure.

He’s content to stay here; between your gorgeous thighs and ravage your cunt all night, pull orgasms from you until you forget everything except the syllables that make up his name.

Except, the words that come from you have him still against you, his cock jerking and responding immediately to the addictive tilt of your voice.

“Logan— Logan, wanna suck your cock. Please.”

It was as though you were made for him— every inch of you riles him up like no one else has before and he has to take a deep, deep breath to refrain from coming in his jeans like a damn virgin.

With one last lick up your lace covered cunt, his face is suddenly above yours, the sight is lethal. The entirety of his lower face wears your wetness with pride, glistening and gleaming in the lowlight of the room. His eyes look animalistic, the hazel taken over by the black of dilated pupils.

Logan looks at you like he wants to fucking destroy you. You know without a doubt you’d let him.

A sweet kiss is pressed against your lips, a warm caress of his tongue on yours, the musky taste of your pussy causing you to part your thighs further. You whine once more, because you crave the heady taste of his cock; your mouth salivates at the thought of his tip heavy on your tongue.

“Easy, honey. Can smell how bad you want it.”

If you were less intoxicated by lust, you’d be mortified at the knowledge Logan can smell your arousal right now.

“Logan.” Pathetic whimpers and moans against his mouth have him pulling back, gritting his teeth to force himself to get a grip. It doesn’t work, not with the way you’re spread out below him, face pretty with a tiny that vaguely mimics the hue of your top and panties.”Please.”

How is he meant to last when you sound like that? All fucked out from just his tongue alone?

“C’mere’.” Logan mutters, tugging your body all the way up his chest, maneuvering you until your pussy is hovering above his mouth, facing his cock.

Completely fucked out, saliva pools in your mouth at the sight of his bulge, massive even in the confines of jeans.

You’re confused as to why Logan has put you on his chest, but it makes sense when he pulls your thighs down, mouth finding your wet, sopping sex once more.

You cry out, hips jolting at the way his tongue push the fabric away from your puffiness, immediately wrapping around your clit. At the way you were shaking on his face, unmoving besides the subtle thrusts of hips, he stops.

“Lo—“

“Go on then, baby. Suck my cock, just like you wanted.”

And oh, you both feel the slick that follows after those rasped words fill the air.

Only once you undo that damn belt buckle and pull both his jeans and boxers down, just enough to see the way his cock bounced out, wet at the red, swollen tip, does Logan resume licking up your pussy.

Fueled by the return of those talented lips, you lean forward without another thought.

Licking from base to tip, a moan vibrates against his cock as you hum, a taste so distinctly Logan making you feel light and warm. You lick up and down him sloppy, spitting on the tip of him as you slick his dick up, before finally wrapping your lips around him.

“Fuck.” His growl is borderning on feral; his teeth finding purchase on your asscheek and biting, an attempt to ground himself. It only serves to have his hips jump at the feel of you whining on him, sucking him down so fucking good. “Fuck, knew you’d be good with that pretty fuckin’ mouth.”

He’s so focused on the way you’ve started bobbing up and down the length of him, overcome with euphoria at the warmth and wetness as you suck and swirl your tongue, that he’s stopped his attention to your pussy, something he’s only reminded of as you wiggle impatiently over him.

“Sorry, princess, you’re driving me fuckin’ crazy.” He grits out, fingers gripping the flesh of your thighs at the little ‘hmph!’ you let out, pulling off his cock.

Though he can’t see you, he knows there’s a string of spit that spans from your swollen lips to his pulsating cock. He shutters, overwhelmed by you entirely, before burying his face into your weepy cunt.

”Oh! Logan, feels so good!” With a pathetic little whimper, his cock fills your mouth again as you sink down, satisfied with the way his tongue is licking at you.

A blend of moans sound as he wraps his lips around your puffed clit, as you ease his cock into your throat.

Logan’s eating you out in a frenzy, crazed by the tang of you soaking his mouth, chin, and nose. Despite the warmth bubbling in his stomach, he’s determined to make you come on his tongue again.

When thick fingers nudge into your hole unexpectedly, you mewl at the blissful feeling.

Logan’s fingers work steadily inside you in tandem with the way his mouth suckles divinely at your button. You’re an absolute mess— grinding down on his face, riding his digits, gagging as Logan’s hips match the pace of his fingers, grunts vibrating against you as he fucks your throat.

Logan curls his fingers in a way that has you seeing every fucking color of the rainbow. You come, moaning around the base of his cock and rocking back and forth on his fingers and mouth, muffled sobs spilling from your stuffed mouth.

When he feels you shivering on his tongue, overstimulated and sensitive, he pulls away from your center, the soaked fabric of your panties falling back into place once more.

Your mouth is still full of him, lips lazily sucking him down as your body tries to get ahold of the white hot pleasure still coursing through you.

“C’mere, baby.”

It’s a soft whisper against your thigh, but it settles over you, his soothing voice swirling around your shaky body like a warm blanket. Letting his cock fall from your lips, you scramble as fast as your body allows before you find yourself straddling Logan, staring down at the man with cloudy, wet eyes.

And maybe Logan is sick— because the sight of tears spilling over your cheeks has his cock unbelievably hard, a growl threatening to tumble out at the way your pretty, crimson hair spills over your shoulders.

Still, he wants to make sure you’re okay.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Logan watches at the way a small smile graces your features, even as tears continue to glisten your lash line. “You okay?”

“Nothing's wrong, just feel so good.” Your voice is a little hoarse, no doubt from the way his dick was fucking your whiny mouth. Your voice is still the sweetest thing he’s ever heard, those few words going straight to his dick.

Logan feels his own lips tug upwards as you speak. Even though he’s fucked you silly and stolen two orgasms, he tenses with desire as he notes the want dancing in your irises.

“Good.”

“Mhmm.”

There’s a beat of silence, a moment where hungry eyes lock in on one another, sensual energy threatening to burst.

Then, in a flash, lips are locked and tongues whirl together familiarly. It’s a hot, lewd kiss filled to the brim with desire— the passion almost too much with how it lights up every inch of your bodies, a fire threatening to spread.

Neither of you are sure who moved first— but it doesn’t matter because the way Logan’s hand wraps around your hair, creating a makeshift ponytail in a tight grip, steals your attention.

If someone were to see the two of you, they would see how desperate and needy you both were.

You’re kissing Logan’s top lip, biting before soothing the sting with a sweet, soft suck. Your thighs are spread over his own entirely and your position has your cunt settling over his cock nicely. Logan’s free hand grips the skin of your ass tight, guiding as you grind against him, the soaked panties catching on the tip of him with each thrust. The fingers tangled in your hair are unforgiving, tugging harshly as Logan grunts into your open mouth.

You’re both a mess of passion and lust— and your body thrums with the idea of his cock inside you.

“Such a good girl, that’s it. Fuck—“ Logan nearly whines, the feel of your wetness on his bulge has him trapping your lips in another all consuming kiss.

Your hands, lit up with energy, find purchase in his pretty hair, yanking as he kisses you vulgar, because everything is somehow too much and not enough.

“Logan— need you. Need you so bad, baby.”

Logan wants to eat you up entirely— somehow you’re still not satiated, rubbing your slick all over his lap and begging him for more. If he was a better man, he would’ve fucked you already. As it is, he likes it a little too much hearing you beg for him.

“Shhh, you got me, honey. I’m right here.”

“Fuck me, please. Need you inside, Logan.”

There’s tears in your eyes again, ready to spill over if the ache between your thighs isn’t soothed in the next five minutes. You’re clinging to him, hips stuttering because it’s just not enough and you both know it.

“My poor baby.” He sighs, the words somehow a mix of condescending and genuine and it makes you cry out. “So needy, huh?”

“Just for you.” The way you say it, it’s a message you both understand— you need him in every way possible, not just sexually.

He wonders if you know just how badly he needs you, especially now that he’s got a taste of you.

“I’m yours—“ you start, but it’s cut off by the squeak you emit when you’re suddenly flipped over, Logan’s muscular form hovering over you, his dog tags swinging between you.

“You’re mine.” It’s not a question, but a statement and it sends a thrill over you.

“Yours.” You’re nodding, eyes wide and so fucking pretty that it makes Logan squeeze his hands, the metal of his claws threatening to break through the skin.

He pulls his shirt off then, pride filling his chest at the way your eyes glaze over, a lip taken between your teeth as you stare at the vein that leads to his cock, which is pulsing with the promise of release.

He doesn’t comment on your lustful eyes, instead tracing his fingers down your body, until he reaches the hem of your baby pink lace. It doesn’t leave much to the imagination but Logan might break something if he doesn’t see your tits in all their glory.

You get the message, leaning up and slowly pulling the fabric from your chest, your breasts and midsection on full display. If he hadn’t already eaten you out twice, you would’ve moved to cover your taut nipples. Instead, you grip the chain of his necklace and pull him back down with you, sighing when you’re chest to chest.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” He says, pecking your lips once, licking a stripe down your throat. Wetness coats both nipples as his tongue swirls over them. “Do you know how badly I’ve wanted to have you under me?”

You moan, nails digging into his shoulder blades at the fluttery feeling his lips bring, deep enough to elicit blood from his skin. Logan groans, head tipping back as his hips thrust down suddenly, the tip of his cock ramming into your clit.

“Fuck, Logan.” Your hands span the expanse of his back, scratching each time he bumps your button just right. His jeans are still on, resting just below his thighs and something about the way he couldn’t even get up to properly take them off makes you shudder.

He’s rutting against you now, dick rubbing filthy over your panties and it dawns on you then that he hasn’t come yet, too preoccupied with taking care of you.

Determined, you slide one hand onto his asscheek, pushing him further into you, while your other grips his chin, pulling his mouth to yours in a slick, open-mouth kiss.

“C’mon Logan, fuck me, please.”

Logan turns into something animalistic then— flipping you over without warning, caging you between his arms. Your gasp is audible as he yanks your wet lace to the side, before thrusting forward, and fucks his cock into you with one thrust.

“Oh my god, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me—“ the feel of Logan finally inside you had you absolutely fucking drunk on the feel of him.

“Tryin’ to, baby.” He grits, arms flexing beside your head, fingers intertwining with yours as he sinks into you, inch by inch, until you were filled to the brim.

Logan’s body covers yours, lips pressing all over your shoulder blades to soothe the little whines you let out at how fucking full you felt. It’s everything you want and more— you want to memorize the feel of him, every ridge and vein as he bottoms out.

“Baby,” he grunts, fingers flexing with yours as he stays still, for your sake. “So fuckin’ tight, so fuckin’ wet.”

And it was true— despite the fact that he’s huge, he slipped in easily because of the mess you created, a slick mix of your come and desire that seeps from you.

“Logan, fuck me, please.” You ask so sweetly, as if you weren’t impaled by his cock right now.

With that, he slips out of you slowly, before fucking into you hard, deep. Then, he fucking ravishes you— creating a steady, fast paced rhythm and fucking you dumb with his cock.

You’re a whiny mess. Your hair grows darker, hands glittering between his grip each time he slams into you, each time your cunt squeezes around him.

Completely cock drunk, your back arches, ass up and hips slamming back against his with your cheek pressing into the mattress as you sob.

You’re so fucking needy that his own thighs are wet with your desire— he growls at the sight, fucking you even faster.

“You’re mine. Have been since you came here.” Logan growled, releasing your fingers in favor of gripping your hair and pulling you up until you were pressed into his chest. “My fuckin’ girl.”

“Yours!” You cry, tears rolling down your face. Your entire body jolts with pleasure, and you feel like you couldn’t breathe, not with how euphoria threatens to smother you. “M’so close!”

“I know, honey, I know. Can feel you fuckin’ squeezin’ around me.“ Logan moans out, pushing you back down into the mattress and finding purchase on your hips, pulling you back hard. “Gonna come all over me?”

You don’t answer, instead crying out as you feel a sharp flash of pain on your asscheek, Logan’s hand swift and quick. The pain mixes into pleasure when he rubs at the red skin, pressing sweet kisses on your back.

He wishes you could see yourself right now; maybe then you would understand why he was so intoxicated by you.

Your pretty body is bent over, ass up and face in the sheets as whimpers seep out. The lace that drove him crazy is yanked to the side, grazing his cock each time he drove deeper inside you. You’re so beautiful like this, he wants to keep you forever.

Sweet, little ‘uh,uh’s’ fill Logan’s ears as he speeds up, pulling you back up once more against his chest. He wants to be as close as fucking possible, the feel of your skin on his almost searing.

You turn your head back, lips seeking out his own. He kisses you, sucking at your lips as he continues to fuck you vigorously.

The fluttery feeling of your cunt squeezing around him suddenly sends him over the edge— low groans falling in your open mouth as hot, searing spurts of come coat your walls.

Knowing that Logan had lost it, finally giving into the temptation like you’d been doing all night, has you whining as your own orgasm surrounds your entire being.

“Baby—“ Logan thrusts shallowly, riding your orgasms out as long as he could; if he could, he’d never leave this feeling behind. Seemingly, you agreed as your nails dig into his forearms that hold you up, eyes squeezing shut at the overpowering bliss tingling everywhere. “I got you, it’s okay.”

“Logan, fuck!” It comes out as a huff, head against his sweaty neck, body completely limp in his hold.

You’d never been so incredibly sex-dazed in your life. From this moment onward, Logan has ruined you for anyone else.

Though, you hope there isn’t anyone else.

Logan kisses your head before untangling from you; a smirk dancing across his usually gruff features at the little whine let out as he pulls out. He gently rolls you onto your back, laying your head tenderly on the pillows. It was such a stark difference to the rough way he’d fucked you minutes prior, but butterflies flutter around your stomach all the same.

You watch his eyes trail lower, landing on the mess between your thighs.

Logan is mesmerized by the sight; your pussy is destroyed , so wet with his come seeping out of your hole. Mindlessly, he lowers himself until heieye level with your sex. Sans any warning, his fingers are thrusted back inside.

He ignores your hiss in favor of trying to push his come back inside, to keep you full of him. His eyes meet yours, watching as your chest rises as you observe him. There’s a glint in your eye that has his heart stuttering.

“I want to kiss you.” You whisper, soft and a little bashful, as if he didn’t have his fingers inside you. You look too fucking perfect, hair returning to its original color, eyes cloudy with unspoken words, a smile gracing your face.

How could he deny you when you looked like that?

Logan kisses your clit once, enjoying the way you jump before removing his fingers.

With those same digits, he sticks them in his mouth, sucking the flavor of you both and humming. He could hear the way your heart picked up at his actions. He releases them with a loud ‘pop’, before finally coming back to you.

He hovers over you, and like you’d done earlier, soft hands pull at the chain until his lips melt with yours in a soft kiss. Logan pulls back, resting his head on yours, eyes connecting with yours.

“Hi.” You giggle then, nose bumping his in the proximity.

“Hi, baby.” Logan kisses your lips once more, before rolling beside you. You would’ve whined at him if it weren’t for the way he immediately pulls you onto his chest.

With your limbs tangled, a kiss pressed to your forehead, you think this could be heaven and if so, you never wanted to leave.

It was quiet for a moment— the two of you content to listen to one another’s heartbeat, the breaths that fall from lips. Then, you break the silence, because of course you do.

“Logan?”

“Hmm?”

“Just so you know, I’m expecting you to take me out before you get me like this again.” You mutter against his slick chest, where your head rests as you wrap yourself around the man like a koala.

A deep laugh fills the room, chest rumbling because what the fuck?

He’s fucked you, with his mouth and cock, and now you’re laying on him as his come seeps out of you and you’re demanding him to take you out?

He was going to in the first place, but he thinks it’s cute you decided for him.

Logan may be a man that’s been alive for almost two centuries, practically immortal, but it’s completely possible you’ll be the death of him.

˚｡⋆⟡♡⟡⋆｡˚ fin

tags: @strangererotica @cevansbaby-dove @morganyourone @asiancupid

[soleilapproves]

The one where Toji gets a buzz cut.

Masterlist

-•-

You dropped the grocery bags on the ground when you were greeted by your boyfriend.

But not out of excitement or happiness.

“No! Your glorious hair!” You dramatically walked to him so you could take a closer look at the damage. Toji, being the evil man he was, laughed at your response. “What d’ya think? I hated my hair covering my eyes while I was on missions so I tried something new.”

“Something new? You look like a felon!” You groaned as your hands roamed around his scalp, hoping for a miracle that would grow his hair back.

“Alright, that’s too far. I thought chicks dug this look.”

“Not on you! Maybe some weirdo that doesn’t look like an assassin for hire.”

“But I am one.”

“That’s besides the point, Toji. You’ve hurt me. By cutting off your hair you’ve also cut off any ties you had with me.” You sulk.

Toji was starting to feel self conscious even when he knew the adjustment phase would go away. “Do I really look that bad, doll?”

“No, but-“

“There’s a but? Okay, that’s it, I’m not touching you from now on. Since I look so bad, you can come to me when you find me attractive.” Okay this was turned into a real argument and you started to get agitated too.

“Fine! Let’s see who’ll last longer.”

Toji simply scoffed and walked back into his man cave.

Who knows how long you guys were planning to do this for?

-•-

A long time. You both can go without touching each other for a long time. It had been a week and a half without any physical intimacy but the relationship was normal, you both spoke about anything and everything. Neither of you were showing signs of caving in (or were just that good at hiding it).

It was a quiet afternoon. Toji was out buying some last minute ingredients for dinner and you were starting to miss him. And as much you hated to admit, the buzz cut was growing on you. Just the other day you had to fan yourself when you saw Toji doing pushups where he looked like an underground fighter prepping for his next match.

To distract yourself you decided to spend your time calling your friend instead. You put her on speaker while you organized your closet.

“Girl, what do you mean it’s ugly? It’s all the rage right now.”

“I know. I hated it when he first got it and now all I can think about is pouncing on him. Ugh, I hate myself.”

“You live together. Just go touch him, you fool.”

“No, I’ll lose and I can’t lose to him. He’s always winning bets between the two of us.”

The conversation went on for a few more minutes until your friend had some urgent business to attend to.

You turned around to grab the rest of clothes and shrieked when you saw a tall figure standing in the door way.

It was Toji. “Did you hear everything?”

“I’ve been here since you admitted that my haircut was hot. Do what you will with that info.”

You sighed as you sat down on the bed. “I guess that means you win.” He could tell you were pouting even when you were turned away from him. He smiled at your childishness and gathered you in his arms and made you lay on top of him as he laid down on the bed. “There, you won.”

“No, it doesn’t work like that. I admitted that I wanted you first so you’re still the winner.”

“Then you’ll be happy to know I’ve been thinking about pouncing on you since the day I got my haircut. I wanted to do it out of spite cause I knew you’d cave in but then we made that stupid bet.”

“Ugh, I’m so stupid. You do not look bad at all, Toji. In fact, you look like a hot felon. The type of felon that has a girlfriend who visits him.” You mumbled as you played with the collar of his t-shirt.

“Uhuh, and does she do overnight visits?” He then started attacking your face with kisses as you start giggling.

It was you and your hot felon against the world.

[casuallyanidiot]

Yandere knight who wants you instead of the princess.

Dead dove Do not Eat Tw. For noncon, MDNI, Fem pov

Yandere knight who has been training in the palace for a very long time. It's an honor for a commoner like him to even set foot into the castle walls, so he works earnestly.

Yandere knight who's been catching glimpses of not only the lovely princess throughout the years, but her handmaidens as well. You're a daughter of a somewhat lesser noble house, and therefore you have essentially been given to the royal family until you're eventually married off to another courtier.

But of all the noble ladies, who often ignore him, he finds you to be the most approachable and kind to him and the other squires. He's developed a bit of a crush on you over the years, and he eventually found it in himself to express his feelings. They were innocent and pure then, and he stood there blushing and awkward waiting for you to accept or deny. He would've taken a no from you. Really, he would have.

But then that pompous bitch got in the way.

The princess had you pulled away by her other attendants before you could answer, and she all but sneered at him.

"My maids are not for common rife like you to sully," she spat, a look of disdain carved on her delicate features.

Yandere knight who was deployed to the battlefront soon after. He spent years in misery knowing it was that royal woman's meddling that had both sent him here and stopped him from knowing how you truly felt.

Yandere knight who carved through foe upon foe with the flash of his sword while thinking of you. He would wipe blood from his face and wonder what it would take to have you. He resolves to become so renowned that he could have you and the respect he deserved all those years ago anyways.

Yandere knight who comes back as the hero of the nation. A parade is thrown for him upon his return, and flowers are thrown at his feet by the masses of people. He is awarded a noble title, a duke (impressive), a territory of land to manage, and the blessing to have the hand of any eligible lady in the land from the king.

The implication was for him to go for the princess, sitting there in a gown befitting of an engagement party. She wasn't the heir to the throne, and having a young, impressionable Duke to have and father a potential crown prince or princess was certainly a draw for her to act so sweet and lovely despite her previous attitudes. He had to use all the will in his body to hide his disdainful glare towards her. Instead, he strode up with a near giddy grin, breezed past the waiting royal, and knelt before you.

"[Name], I shall have you as my wife," He says with a beaming smile. You try to protest, but he's already sweeping you into his arms. The king seems surprised by his choice, but as he stares between Yandere Knight, lovestruck and beaming, and you, squirming and utterly shocked, he realizes that he cannot simply go back on his word. The king waves his hand, and your fate is sealed.

Yandere knight feels bad for not giving you a proper wedding. In fact, he feels bad about not taking you to your new home before he's pulling up your skirts. He's a dog, he knows, but you're just so tempting now that you're all his. He shoving you down onto the plush upholstery of the carriage seats, and you let out a startled cry.

Yandere knight who cannot claim he's chivalrous. He wishes he could, but he loves the way your breasts look pushed up so tightly in the laced bodice of yours. He lets out a groan, petting your hair and shushing you as you whimper under his wandering touch. Button after button becomes undone.

"Love, you'll never wear such stifling clothing again. You hear me? All robes and lace from now on. None of this nonsense," He murmurs into your skin. He pulled your corset and chemise from your body, and he pressed fervent kisses to the crook of your neck. He grasps at your breasts, kneading them experimentally. He's had time to experience women on the battlefield. A fling or two in some field on the outskirts of a freshly liberated village. He would think of you the whole time and imagine what he was latching his lips around the stiff peak of your nipple while a random girl cried out underneath him. But this was real. Your warmth beneath his much heavier form was on of the most beautiful feeling he had ever had the pleasure of witnessing.

He parted your legs, and he could feel you shy away from him. He laughed. As if you had a choice. He knew you would love him eventually, but for now you can't blame him for how ravenous he was as he felt between your shaking, parted legs. He smirked as his lips met yours. His fingers slid against your folds, gathering slick arousal on his digits with a curious hum. He grinds his thumb against your clit as he slowly pushes his way into your warm, spongy walls.

"Oh? Is it good there? Or here? Where, love? You gotta use your words," He teases and licks the tears rolling down your cheeks, peppering your soft skin with kisses. He feels you pulse and stretch around his hand, and he relishes the way your back arches when he curls his fingers just right against that sweet little spot. Desperate noises tumble out of you, and he smiles.

He pulls his fingers out, and you cry out at the sudden sensation. Your chest is heaving with small moans, and your pretty pussy is drooling onto the carriage cushions. He pushes your legs up to your chest for a better grip, and his shudders at the way your twitching feels against the head of his cock.

Yandere knight knows that, as he thrusts into you, he's going to enjoy the luxury of finally having you both under his body and under his control.

[misserabella]

sick love

spencer reid x fem! reader

pt2!!

synopsis;;

you catch your best friend spencer touching himself and far from being embarrassed, it only turns him on even more. if only you knew he had been dreaming about this moment for his entire fucking life and that he has even planned for it to happen…

cw;; (let’s act as if spencer and reader are the same age (consensual 18) in high school

really perv!spencer, dark themes, spencer uses readers body without implicit consent (i don’t know if it counts as cnc since later we find out she doesn’t mind), somnophilia (if you squint), INDECENT use of cum, stalker behavior, use of masculine sex toys, breeding kink, mommy and daddy kink, praise kink, praising, degradation, multiple orgasms, oral sex (f receiving), sub and dom spencer, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cum eating, cream pie, masturbation (m), voyeurism (?), dacryphilia, violence (not towards reader), dirty talking, hair pulling, blood… MINORS DNI OR I’LL COME FOR YOU!

@cafekitsune ‘s separators

Spencer was obsessed with you. Not in a lovely kind of obsessed —that too— but in a really perverted way. His sick infatuation commenced a warm summer, when you and him, best friends since freshman year, had ended up staying up late in your house for a movie night. Your parents were no where to be seen, and being scared of spending the night alone, you invited Spencer for a sleep over.

Everything was perfect. Little snacks, the newest film in D.C in tape and a cozy sofa in which the two of you silently rested as you stared at the tv. That was until you had fallen sleep on the other end of the sofa, loose and extremely short pijama pants letting your lace panties show and nipples erect due to the coldness of the night underneath your tight and white tank top. He found himself stating for far too long, instead of bringing up on your body the blanket that you both had been shared, his eyes taking in just how beautifully exposed you were.

Full honesty? He didn’t even remember how his dick had gotten that hard nor how it had ended on one of his hands, palm slick in precum as he thrusted in it, bottom lip in between his teeth and soft moans and groans scaping his lips. But he didn’t care. He came so hard that night that he swore he saw stars on your living room’s ceiling.

After that, he of course felt awkward and embarrassed of himself around you. Masturbating to his sleeping best friend, and just mere inches away from you? Jesus Christ. Though that remorse quickly went away when he found himself sinking deeper in that sickness under your name.

He relished in that pretty tears of yours when you cried about another stupid boy being mean to you and dumping you against his neck, your tits fully pressed to his chest and whimpers making his cock push against his jeans, even more when that same guys were the ones crying and begging for him to stop as he beat the shit out of them.

He liked to see you cry, but if it wasn’t because of him, he wouldn’t have it. He sent a couple of them to the ER, but they were too scared to get a couple more bones broken if they ever spoke up,— and also, who would believe them if they said that the slender nerd of their class was the one that beat them up— so he always got away with it. In no time, the guys were fucking terrified of even glancing at you, leaving you all to himself. Like it had to be. You were his, or you’ll be.

You were always complaining about things of yours disappearing, “Fuck! I cant found my chapstick.” him shrugging even when he knew that he was, in fact, the thug. Then, he’d go back to his house and open the last drawer of his desk — which he had under key— and take the same chapstick out of his pocket to push it inside along with the other things he had stolen from you: lipgloss, necklaces, bracelets… Panties.

He loved them. He almost had a collection of them, of all types; cotton, lace, thongs… He loved the ones that he stole from the dirty laundry the most, which’s crotch he could push against his nose and lick as he fucked his fist. Getting to taste and smell your slick always drove him crazy.

Another thing Spencer loved to do was take photos of you. He had albums and albums of polaroids for the two of you, being both on the pictures or just you. He loved to watch them from time to time: you smiling, you singing, you dancing, you blowing a kiss to the camera, jumping in the pool, petting a stray cat… Being simply you.

But he also had some photos that were exceptionally and just for him. Some of them were flashes of your body in those little and pretty bikinis you always wore in the warm summers, some other of your naked body —facing away from the door of your bathroom— when you changed, you eating ice cream with cheeks, lips and tongue stained in the vanilla treat, some of you sleeping, some others of the panties and little skirts that you’d wear. He even had one of you resting asleep on his lap, lips parted and against his hard cock. He saved some of them on his wallet in case he ever had to take care of a boner when he hung out with you.

He was in love with you. Sickly in love. Sickly enough to take some of those photos of yours and cut out your face just to tape them to his porn magazines. Some of the pages had even stuck together due to his cum.

And you were just so unbelievably oblivious of his infatuation that you always left the window to your room unlocked in case he ever wanted to sneak in in the middle of the night to stay with you if he ever felt lonely in his empty house. At first, before his infatuation appeared, he would sneak in from time to time when the loneliness became too strong for him to handle, cuddling with you and leaving first hour in the morning. Now? Now he snuck in almost every goddamn night. To cuddle, to watch you sleep, to be able to hold you close and even to take advantage of your heavy slumber. He had licked his cum out of your fingers when he had used your hand to masturbate, having to hold in his moans and whimpers. Other nights, he would get under your covers and part your thighs just to push his head in between them, face against your clothed cunt as his hips buckled against the duvet, tongue flattening against your heat and moaning when your thighs would unconsciously squish his head.

He loved it when you played with his hair, groaning when you’d pull from it when he’d tickle you, and laughing when you’d scream at him for using your good conditioner after a pool day. He was obsessed with your little lotions and expensive shampoos, using them as lube to fuck his hand while he showered in your house, using then his cum to fill the tubes, evening out the difference.

He would steal food from you in the cafeteria, using your own fork or spoons just to be able to have your spit in his mouth. You’d always whine about it, but he never stopped, so you eventually stopped caring, giving him full access to it when you were full.

Spencer considered himself to be a man with clear tastes when it came to sexual preferences. He would love to fuck you to his liking, to sink you into submission and to get you to call him daddy. He thought of himself as a dominant kind of person rather than a submissive one, but that changed when in one of his numerous wet dreams it was you the one who choked him and fucked him, using him like you’d use a fucking toy. He had woke up with a raging orgasm as from his lips fell the word ‘mommy’.

Was he a pervert? Absolutely. Would he ever speak up about his feelings for you? Absolutely not.

He’d prefer to die with a boner than ever telling you he loved you. He was just terrified of the thought of you pushing him away or ever hurting your friendship.

So after a day full of what he thought of ‘teasing’, since it always involved you dressing in one of those incredibly short skirts or staring at him for too long as you sucked on one of the lollipops that he always bought you, he would come to his house and enter his room with a full tent in between his thighs. He would pull out of the back of his closet his fleshlight and spray one of his pillows with those little bottles of your perfume that came as gifts with the bigger version just to bend his other one and push the fleshlight in it, fully lubed and ready for his cock to fuck into, just like that pretty pussy of yours. And that’s what he’d do, fuck his stupid little toy with his face fully buried on the perfumed one as he imagined you under him, ass up and chest pushed against his bedsheets. His pace was needy, harsh and deep, from his mouth, dirty talking spilling. ‘Yeah, take my cock you slut, fucking take it.’ ‘That’s a good girl for daddy.’ Those were always the best orgasms, making him fill the toy to the brim when he couldn’t found himself to stop. Too pussy drunk even when it wasn’t your pussy what he fucked in between whimpers.

He sometimes would leave his house’s and bedroom door open with the dream of you someday catching him red handed.

But they were all just dreams, they weren’t supposed to fucking happen in real life. Yet, there he was, and so were you.

That day he had come with a really painful bonner in between his thighs. You’d been sitting on his lap for a whole goddamn hour since your classmates from class B had borrowed most of your chairs to hang prom signals, leaving you without a place to sit and using your best friend as a chair. The problem was not only that, it was the fact that you’d be adjusting every five minutes and the fact that he had found himself being completely ignored by you as you talked with your best friends, laughing with them and jumping on his lap when the jokes were too good. Well, he was not being completely ignored, since one of your hands, had found his hair and slowly massaged his scalp, every now and then pulling at his hair when you played with his locks, his hands trembling on your thighs —which spread sideways across from his — thumbs circling your soft skin.

The fact that you were using him. The fact that he felt used by you and only you, was what had him gritting his teeth and fighting the urge to buckle against your ass. But Spencer was a good boy, so he just stood sit and went through that delirious torture with not a word coming out of his mouth. He felt like breathing once again when you got up from his lap when the bell rang, notifying the students that the day had ended, but still choking when he no longer could smell your cologne or felt you flush against him.

“Fuck…” he whimpered when he plopped on his bed, his palm pushing hardly against his pulsing and leaking cock, precum staining his jeans and underwear. He had pulled out from his closet his fleshlight, since he felt that his hand would not be enough today. He had to fuck himself. “Please, fuck me, please…” he was a babbling mess when his tip pushed inside the lubed toy. “Use my cock, baby… Use me…” he found himself whimpering at his mind scenario, in which you would ride him relentlessly, his dick reaching deep enough to hit that sweet spot that you’d torture to make yourself cum all over his cock. “Fuck, mommy, fuck, feels so good… Ah, faster.” he was a babbling mess, his hips rutting upwards against his hand movements to fuck his cock deeper in his toy.

“Spence!!!” you had called from downstairs as you opened his unlocked front door. Spencer always left it that way for you to come and go as you pleased. You were smiling, in between your hands a copy of a book he had been dying to read for months and for which he had cried after finding out that it had been sold out. After seeing just how badly he wanted it, you had been fighting with sharp nails to get a hold on one of the limited edition copies that had gone on sale in the city’s center, where you had rushed just as classes finished and where you had killed your savings in the dib. “I have a surprise for you!!” you chanted, locking the door behind you and jumping excitedly, frowning when you didn’t hear and answer from him. “Spencer?” you called out again, the soft sound of his voice reaching you from upstairs. You took off your shoes, a smirk growing on your lips when the idea of giving him a scare came to mind. Up the staircase, you were like a ghost, slowly approaching his room and mumbling, though you froze when a moan got to your ears. Your skin went pale and your cheeks heated up when needy whimpers followed up right after, as if all the blood under your skin had ended up pooling there.

“Fuck, just like that. Faster, please…” was he with someone? Your chest heaved at the thought of Spencer fucking with some random girl that wasn’t you. You’ve liked him for years on end, since the first time that he held you as you cried your heart out after your first breakup. But he never seemed to look at you in any other way that wasn’t friendly, so, at the end, —being too scared to speak up about your feelings in fear that it would break your friendship— you had decided to bury them as deep as you could inside you, believing that he had to be just what he was; your best friend.

Even though you knew it was wrong, you slowly approached his slightly open door, peeking in in need to see who was he fucking, promising yourself that you’d leave once you’ve taken a glance. But all that went to hell when you found out he was not fucking anyone but himself, back against the mattress, bare chest rising and lowering slowly as his hips fucked upwards, inside his clear flesh light. Your eyes widened and your legs trembled when from his lips new groans and moans fell. Spencer was fucking touching himself. Fuck, fuck, fuck… You needed to get away from there. Yeah, that’s what you’d do. You’d go back to your house and forget all about it… Or that’s what you thought, instead finding your feet glued to the floor as you watched.

He looked so hot and pretty all needy… Eyes closed shut and mouth agape in gasps, glasses crooked, eyebrows pushed together as his head fell back against his pillow, hair messy all over it. His hand was slow, pushing the toy down on his cock in deep and harsh strokes. You could almost perfectly see his long and thick dick, his thrusts making the lube’s wet sounds fill the room. “Ah, fuck…” his voice was low and so broken you felt your panties damp in your slick, you were so turned on that your free hand cupped your cunt, making you almost moan if you hadn’t bit down on your bottom lip.

Your fingers had started to push against the lace of your panties underneath your plaid skirt, freezing on your clit when a new babble came from inside the room and your best friend’s lips. “Fuck, y/n…, mommy…, please, fuck, fuck, fuck…” your eyes widened, not only because…, fuck, Spencer was fucking that goddamn fleshlight with you in mind doing so, but because he had called you mommy too. Surprisingly enough that only turned you on even more, a needy moan tearing your throat before you could push it down to your chest. Spencer’s movements stopped, his gaze moving to his opening door just to see you standing there, flushed cheeks, heavy breathing and book in hand.

He quickly pushed away the toy, cursing under his breath when he sat up, a pillow hiding his hard and leaking cock, which was twitching at the sight of your trembling legs. “Fuck, y/n, I…” he didn’t even know what to say. You had caught him, caught him fucking himself with his goddamn fleshlight, and even worse, caught him moaning your name. He felt sick to the stomach, but at the same, so turned on too. You had caught him… Finally. And who knows how much time you had been listening and peeking at him while he pleasured himself. He had to hold back a whimper at the thought of it. “How much did you hear?” he cursed when you didn’t answer, cheeks reddening and cock twitching under the pillow, leaking against his thigh.

“Mommy.” you said, making his head snap back to you, a frown on his face, eyes widening when you let the book fall from your hands as you stepped in, closer to his bed.

“W…What?” fuck.

“ ‘Mommy’. That’s what you called me.” you smirked, eyes falling to his lap when he pushed the pillow further down. “Who would think that Spencer, the Genius Spencer Reid, would be so goddamn dirty to even leave the door unlocked for anyone to see as he fucks himself. And even worse, have a mommy kink.” he stuttered as he shook his head.

“It’s not what it seems like, I…”

“You what?” you pushed, thumb and index gripping his chin so his eyes would find yours. “Are you gonna deny that you were touching yourself while thinking about me? That you were calling me mommy and whimpering for me to fuck you faster?” he moaned at your words, half-lidded eyes full of lust staring at your full and rosy lips. “Mmh? Answer me.” you ordered and he whimpered, your pussy clenching when he shook his head and cried out a ‘no’. “ ‘No’ what?” your lips brushed against his, teasing him to get out of him what you wanted.

“No, mommy.” you pulled his hair when he tried to kiss you, making him groan against your lips as you clicked your tongue. “Please…” he pleaded, hands rocking the pillow on his lap.

“Only good boys get a kiss, Spence.”

“I’m a good boy…” he was so gone that you almost laughed, so needy for pussy…

“Oh yeah?” he nodded, his tongue dampening his lips, hips thrusting upwards towards the pillow that covered his naked body. “The why don’t you show me?” he shivered when your lips latched to his neck, your tongue pressing against his skin in open mouth kisses that led to his ear. “Why don’t you show me how good you are and let me watch you fuck that pretty toy of yours, hm?” he moaned, muttering a ‘fuck’ as he nodded, making you smirk. “Then go ahead, baby, let me see.” you pulled away as he pushed the pillow off his lap, dick twitching below a pool of precum that dripped from his tip.

In the state he was… He would do anything for you. He would even fuck himself stupid if you said the word. Anything you asked, anything you wanted. Anything for you.

He moaned when you sat down on his desk’s chair, skirt rolling up and letting more of your soft and beautiful thighs show. His hands were shaking when his fingers gripped around the clear silicone or his toy, whimpering when he noticed your eyes on his twitching dick.

You had seen dicks before, but none of them was as beautiful as Spencer’s. It was big, with a great large and just the perfect girth, large and thick enough to have you limping for a few days after a good fuck. And you knew he could give it to you, that he would fuck your hard and needy, deep enough to have you drooling over yourself as you came over and over again. You would love to drool and choke on it too, outline the veins on his shaft with your tongue and take him so deep on your throat you’d need to swallow when he came in your mouth. “Aw, poor Spence…” you cooed at his twitching cock, red tip and tight balls. “Caught about to cum. It must really hurt, doesn’t it baby?” he nodded, tears on his eyes due to your teasing, chest rising in heavy breaths. “Are you gonna cum on that cup for me to drink, hm? Want me to drink your cum, Spencer?” he moaned a breathy gasp, and you smirked to his reaction. He liked that.

Dirty talking. Mommy kink. Praise kink. Notes taken.

“Yes, yes, yes…” he muttered, almost begging for it. The thought of you swallowing his cum making him go crazy. He whined when his leaking tip brushed against the artificial hole, his lip being tortured by his teeth when you parted your thighs, panties exposed and damped lace for him to see. “Fuck…” he cursed, bottoming out into the wetness of the fleshlight in a deep and large stroke, almost cumming at the sight. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” your hands came down your body, your left resting on your breasts— hard nipples pushing against your shirt, which you pulled and pinched in between your fingers— and your right sneaking in between your thighs and below your underwear, whining when you felt just how wet you were. “Shit, y/n.”

His dick was twitching like crazy with every new and fast thrust of his hips, pleads falling of his lips. ‘I need you. Need you so bad…’ ‘Please mommy…’ ‘I’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum…’

“Oh yeah? You gonna cum?” You clicked your tongue when he nodded, chuckling at his behavior. “Look at how pathetic you look.” he whimpered when you had made your way back to his side, standing in front of him and making his head fall backwards when you harshly pulled on his hair, making his hips stutter and breathy whines rip his throat. “Hold it. I haven’t even told you where to cum yet.” he cried when you pushed down your thighs your panties. “Fuck, you are too fucking loud.” you said and he had to squeeze his dick to not come when you pushed your damped panties into his mouth, slicked crotch flat against his tongue. His muffled begging only made your pussy wetter, his eyes full of tears that seemed about to fall when he could take a taste on just how sweet you were. He choked on the lace when you startled his legs. His eyes fell just as your free hand did, straight to your core, where your fingers dug on your wet folds and parted them for him to see thin strips of slick connect them and just how swollen your little pink bud was, hidden under its hood. “Here. Cum on my pussy.” you said, leaning on the skin of his neck to suck a hard hickey on his flesh.

You didn’t even had to say it twice, his hand quickly throwing away the fleshlight to cum all over your folds and clit, muffled groans and moans filling the room when his white and heavy gropes painted your core in white, his mind all foggy and pussy drunk just by the simple contact of your cunt on his tip. You hummed as you stroked his hair, open mouth kisses being splattered across his chest. He was still fucking hard. “Good boy…” you cooed, loving just how fucked out he seemed, moaning when you sat on his cock, his length in between your wet folds and his tip bumping against your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck….” he cried out with your panties on his mouth when you rocked your hips against his. That’s all it took for him to cum for a second time, right after his first orgasm.

You moaned, feeling his dick twitch and nails dig on your ass, your pussy sliding too easy due to the amount of his cum that coated it. “You came again, baby?” he nodded, his cock quickly getting hard again to your humping. “Fuck, Spencer…” you pulled your panties away from his mouth, wanting to hear his groans. “Look at you, making a mess of my cunt.”

“Fuck, y/n…” your name sounded so wonderful falling from his lips… “Please, can I… Can I clean it for you? Let me clean it for you, pleasepleaseplease. I’ll make you feel good, I promise, I’ll be good…” you pulled his bottom lip with your thumb, warm skin under your fingertips. “I promise. I promise mommy…” your thumb brushed your own lips when he leaned in, pupils blown and need on his hazel thin irises. He looked high. And he was, high on his favorite drug: you.

You nodded, giving in, and gasped when he had your back pressed against the mattress in just a matter of seconds, lips all over the skin of your neck and exposed collarbones, his hands leaving your hips to bump against the bottom of your tank top, fingers so desperate to see your tits that dug too hard on the piece of clothing enough to tear it up. You moaned when you felt the fabric give out, his hands cupping your exposed breast and biting hickeys on its flesh in between groans, muttering a ‘The prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, fuck.’. You were tugging on his hair as he played with your tits, biting your nipples and teasing you for a couple of minutes before slowly lowering his lips further down on your stomach, bumping with your skirt, which he quickly discarded it away on his bedroom floor. He pulled away to look to your fully naked body, hair messily spread on his pillow —the same he had fucked multiple times while thinking about you—, lips swollen due to constant biting, half-lidded eyes and flushed skin. He moaned, dick twitching, ‘cause you were so goddamn perfect. Perfect for him.

He didn’t waste time in parting your thighs —which he took his time with, and of course he would, he had been dreaming about making them bleed for years now—, leaving open mouth kisses and sucking hard on the skin, making you whimper and tug on his hair. “Spencer…” you whined when he bit down on your flesh, making your back arch at the incredible pleasure the pain inflicted made you feel. He was so drunk on your skin… He could spend his whole life kissing it that he would never get fucking tired of it. But his teasing was making your pussy clench and tingle. You needed his mouth on it now. And he seemed to get it when you pushed him further against it, his hands taking your now fully marked thighs to pull them above his shoulders as he sunk on the mattress, stomach flat against it and fingers gripping at your flesh. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when his tongue pushed in between your covered in cum folds, flattening in a long strip and bumping against your clit. Both of you moaned, him due to just how much he had dreamed about the taste of your pussy —which he had tasted before, but only clothed— and you to how many times you had touched yourself with his mouth in mind. His name falling off your lips on a whimper had his hips rocking against the duvet as he ate you out sweet and slow.

It was only when his fingers found their way to your entrance that he started to eat you just like you needed and he always dreamed of: rough, needy and hungry. You were screaming his name when his fingers pushed inside you, quickly fucking the shit out of you and curving to hit your g spot as his tongue circled your clit. Spencer knew how to use it, really well. So well that he had you tipping the edge in less than ten minutes. He was like a starved man, burying his face in between your thighs unable to get enough of you and your sweet taste, of the mix of the two of you in his tongue. “Fuck, Spencer, I…” you babbled, thighs twitching as you pulled harder on his hair. He knew you were close by how moans fell of those pretty lips of yours over and over again. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum…” you cried out, Spencer crushing your sweet spot with every harsh thrust of his fingers.

He moaned, begging for it. “Please cum on my mouth, mommy. Please, let me have it, please mommy, please…” you whined when his tongue gave just one last stroke to your clit, dissolving in the hardest orgasm you’ve ever had, whimpers against your cunt as Spencer drank every last drop of it all, helping you ride out your orgasm as your sweet moans filled his bedroom.

You mewled when once you’ve come down from your high, his tongue licking you clean as hips rutted on his wet sheets, seconds away from coming when you called from him. He whimpered when you tugged on his hair, pulling him away from your pussy as you sat up. He looked completely gone. Half-lidded eyes unfocused, messy hair due to your tugging, swollen lips and wet chin. “Please, just a little bit more, mommy…” he begged, needing to go back in between your thighs. Needing to taste you and make you cum again on his mouth. “Please, I need it…” your eyes fell to his twitching and leaking cock, and then, to the dampness of the sheets where he had been rocking against. You clicked your tongue as you took him in your hand, making him gasp.

“I’ll let you choose where to cum next, Spencer.” you said, your other hand coming to his cheek to rub the flush on his skin. “I could let you eat me out again and let you cum all over the sheets all by yourself…” his balls tightened to the thought of it, feeling cold when the hand that cupped his face left him to fall in between your thighs, spreading you open for him to see. “Or you could cum inside of me.” his eyes rolled to the back of his head, hips thrusting into your hand in anticipation. “What do you say, Spence? Where do you want to cum, baby?” he was almost hyperventilating, whimpers falling of his lips as he leaned on you, eyes on your own.

“Inside.” he found himself to mutter, unable to think, not when you were offering him the chance to fuck you raw and fill you up. Just the thought of it had him reeling.

“Oh yeah?” you whispered against his lips, him nodding slightly, bewitched by your minty breath connecting with his own. “You wanna cum inside, hm? Gonna let me use your cock too?” you gave him a sweet smile when he moaned, furiously nodding. Leaving a little peck on the corner of his mouth, you fell backwards on your back once again. “Then come here, Spence.” he was fast to top you, your thighs parting to receive him there, hands on his neck when he leaned in, eyes asking for permission to kiss you, which he didn’t even need since you were now entering your tongue in his mouth, making him groan. Fuck, he could come just with that. With your tongue on his mouth, your body against him and the thought that you were only letting him fuck you to seek your own release. He moaned on your open mouth when you took his dick to align it with your entrance, which twitched at the feeling of his tip. You needed him, and you needed him now. “Fuck, baby, please fuck me Spencer, please, please…” you whimpered, and he didn’t wait to push inside in a deep and fast stroke. You both moaned, foreheads against the other’s as he bottomed out.

“Fuck, so tight, mommy, so tight… Shit. I’m gonna cum.” your head had fallen backwards in gasps, giving him full access to your neck, which he kissed and sucked, leaving new marks. He was so big you felt like splitting in half, but not in a painful way. His stretch had you delirious, his tip brushing against that sweet spot that would make you come in a matter of seconds. Your nails dug on the skin of his back, making him groan. The two of you were taking your time, him getting used to the feeling of your tight and warm walls trying to milk his twitching dick and you to the feeling of his heavy and big cock sitting inside your wet cunt, spreading you to edges you’d only dreamed of getting to. He groaned against your neck when you started to unconsciously rock against him. “Please y/n, can I fuck you now? Let me fuck you mommy, please? I need to… I need to…”

“Go ahead, baby. Be a good boy for me and let me use your cock, alright?” he whimpered at your words, and in less than one second he had you gripping to his back for dear life and losing yourself in between moans. “Oh fuck, yeah Spencer, just like that baby, shit, fuck me, fuck me…”

He was just feral. Thrusting in you with just cumming in mind. His hips were pushing against yours in a hurry, hitting that spot inside of you that had you whimpering as you thrusted yourself on his cock, just as desperate as him. He was too pussy drunk to even kiss you straight, spit dripping down your chin at the messy made out. “Fuck, y/n, mommy, shit, so good, feels so good, fuck, I love it, love your pussy, ah shit, love you mommy, loveyouloveyouloveyou…” he was a mess. Both of you were. His thrusts had you drooling on the pillow, back arched and eyes squeezed shut, too lost in the pleasure, in him. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release with every new deep and harsh thrust, making your nails dig up on his back, probably leaving marks.

“Fuck, Spencer, fuck, I’m close, shit, I’m gonna cum…” you whimpered on his ear, making him fuck you harder.

“Cum on my cock, mommy, please, please… Use me. Use me…” he begged, and then you could only feel yourself cumming over and over again. It was all too much, but too good at the same time. So good that had your soaked cunt gushing all over his dick as he fucked you dumb, his hands pulling on your nipples and teeth digging so hard on your neck that draw blood. You were seeing fucking stars in the ceiling.

The only thing that you seemed able to coherently form was his name, which you chanted like you sang your favorite summer song. “Spencer, Spencer, Spencer…”

“Shit, Imma cum, I’m cumming so fucking hard… Gonna fill your pussy mommy, gonna…, fuck!” his thrusts became sloppier. “Im gonna cum, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming.”hips thrusted one, two, three more times before his dick twitched inside of you, filling you so full you choked on air, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when some of it spilled out. He was whimpering ‘mommy’ over and over again in between cries against your neck, thick gropes of cum painting your insides in the purest white.

“Shit, fuck, Spencer. So good…” you moaned, rolling your hips at the feeling of fullness. You were fucked out, brain dead on the cock that had just gave the best sex of your life. You were trying really hard to come down from your high and calm down your breathing. “Spencer!” Though you really couldn’t even do that, since you found your head being hardly pushed against his pillows and back arched with your chest against the duvet when he pulled you up from your ass, his newly hard cock ramming inside of your full of cum pussy. You cried out when his hand came down on one of your cheeks in a hard spank that had you whimpering.

“You didn’t think I was done with you, were you, ‘mommy’?” you could hear the teasing in his voice. “I’m sure you really enjoyed having your way with me, didn’t you?” you couldn’t really comprehend how his mentality had switched so drastically fast, but you were no one to whine about it. If a submissive Spencer had you cumming so hard on his cock, how would a dominant fuck you out? You felt your pussy clench around his dick in anticipation. “Well, I hope you did, ‘cause now is my fucking turn.”

-

i needed to.

[peachysunrize]

The King’s Retribution ⥃ prince Aemond Targaryen

Summary: when he walks back to the Keep, Aemond finds his brother’s wife in distress while her youngest child keeps her awake. Maybe it’s time to show the King that no one can humiliate the one-eyed prince.

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, rough sex, lactation kink, reader is Aegon’s wife, post B&C, s2e3 inspired, dacryphilia, Aemond feels humiliated after the brothel scene, hair pulling, doggystyle, they do it in Aegon’s rooms👀 kind of a chubby/overweight reader because she has baby weight, tell me if I’ve missed something. English isn’t my first language<3

Word count: 3.6k+

A/n: a very special thank you to @aemonds-holy-milk for this incredible request!!! And a very honorable mention and thank you to @arcielee for helping me with the plot and beta-ing for me! Your touch made this much hotter and better!🩷 Reblogs and comments are more than welcome<33

Aemond pushes the door to one of Maegor’s tunnels, peeking through to see if anyone is around. He scoffs when he finds the hallway empty, with no guards, no maids or handmaidens. He walks upstairs to the royal chamber’s floor, one hand pushing his hood off while the other twirls his dagger.

He is filled with such rage that he can burn this castle down without Vhagar’s help. The sting of humiliation keeps poking through his ribs, making him heave with each breath he takes. He had to keep his composure back in the brothel, he had to show his power by walking outside the room naked as the day he was born to regain some control his brother took away from him.

He walks past the rooms of his family, skipping a stair here or two as he follows the path to his chambers in silence, until he reaches his brother’s doors, catching the sound of a soft hiccuping and muffled wailing of a child.

Aemond unsheathes the dagger as he steps closer to the unguarded door, shaking his head in disbelief at his brother’s ignorance, especially after what happened to Jaehaerys. He opens the door slowly, not wanting to startle whoever is inside — a nursemaid or the queen.

He finds you sitting in front of the fireplace with baby Maelor crying fat tears in your arms as he tries to latch onto your exposed breasts to fill his tiny, hungry belly. Aemond’s eye wanders over your bare upper body; heavy swollen teats leaking with milk, a tired and teary expression on your face as you try to lull your son back to sleep, tending to him, caressing him, loving him. 

He has never seen a sight more beautiful than this.

He sheathes his dagger and pushes it into his belt before knocking on your door gently so as not to scare you and his nephew. He watches you closely as you snap your head in his direction, the tension leaving your shoulders as you smile at him sadly.

“Aemond,” you call him, gasping when your son bites your already sore nipple with his gums, trying to latch on to it but failing. He cries harder, face twisted angrily, his chubby cheeks red and puffy with how long he’s been searching for some comfort.

“Please, please don’t — mommy is trying,” you cry with him softly, standing up to pace around the room while you rock him, shushing him and wiping his tears. You are trying your hardest to feed him properly, but every second is wasted in vain as he cries and fusses in your arms.

Aemond closes the door behind him, enraptured with the sight you made—watching you walk around the room, half bare and beautiful to his eager eye.  He unfastens his cloak and belt that holds his daggers and sword before laying it on the nearest table, walking towards you with his hands locked behind his back.

You look like The Mother coming real, a god he should worship at your altar.

“Oh, my darling boy,” you coo at Maelor, sniffing as he sobs harder, his little fists flying on your chest as he searches for your breast, mouth parted and ready to be filled with his late-night meal.

Aemond stands behind you, not too close to intrude on your personal space, especially in such a vulnerable state you are in, but to keep looking at you. His eye roams across your nude chest, your fuller stomach, and hips that carry the remaining weight of having pushed a babe into the world.

He listens to your words, remembering the sight of his brother mocking him at the brothel, while he was being cuddled and taken care of — what an ugly laugh he has, Aegon. 

His gaze darkens as he looks at you, his queen, his brother’s wife, his brother’s possession, being so vulnerable in his presence with your breasts out and your child finally suckling on them. His eye finds your form once more as Aegon's words replay in his ears — ‘My brother will not sample another.’ He will make sure to teach his brother a very valuable lesson and serve him a good punishment.

His cock starts to swell beneath the layers of his clothing as he stares at you with a newfound passion; you have always been a lovely figure in his mind, too sweet and beautiful to be wed to his brother, and yet, now your features seem to be bolder in his eye.

He strides forward when he hears Maelor crying again, this time much softer but a cry nonetheless. You scurry to cover your breasts when you feel him behind you, trying to look at least a bit modest now that your child is less fussy.

“I’m sorry, Aemond, I-I forgot you came to visit,” you say in a hushed tone, waiting with bated breath for him to say something.

He looks down at his nephew over your shoulder, reaching to wipe a drop of milk from his round cheek near his mouth, his fingers brushing against your sore nipple accidentally. Both of you inhale sharply — him with the new rush of desire and you in surprise. 

“What a messy eater,” he says, his eye meeting yours as he brings his wet finger to his mouth, licking the remaining of your milk off while he keeps eye contact with you, dropping his eye to your lips as soon as they part in surprise before he meets your eyes again — they look darker, cloudier, more lustful. Your lashes flutter, and your rosy lips let out a shaky breath as you keep your gaze on his pink tongue licking his finger.

“It runs in the family I’m afraid,” you reply, averting your eyes from him, pressing a kiss on top of your son’s head as you bounce him, trying to hide your embarrassment.

Despite how crude your husband is, he’s never been one for making you flustered by such a simple gesture, and yet, his brother seems to be the complete opposite; bold, daring, and he’s surely taking whatever he wants.

“May I?” Aemond asks, standing in front of you with extended arms, reaching to take Maelor in his embrace. You gently pass him over, and as soon as your arms are free you bring them to your chest to cover your breasts.

“I-I need to—would you mind holding him for a moment?” You pull the front of your shift up as you ask him, and he can’t help his gaze not fall back on your chest but looks upward to your eyes quickly before you catch him and nod.

He hugs Maelor close, resting his little head on his shoulder as he walks towards his crib, glancing at you walking past the privacy screen. Aemond shushes his nephew, rocking him gently while he hums a tune his mother used to sing for him to lull him to sleep. It seems his efforts have worked when Maelor grows quiet, tinted cheeks stained with tears and fingers fisted tightly. Aemond lies him down slowly, brushing a finger over the few strands of his nephew’s silver hair before his attention is turned to you walking towards him with a warm towel over your chest.

“He has been restless as of late,” you sigh, leaning down to brush a kiss on your son’s forehead, standing on Aemond’s good side, “as have I, as everyone in the Keep. It seems he feels the loss of his brother.”

“We are all shaken by the loss of Jaehaerys,” he replies, his good eye looking up at your face, taking in every up and down of your face.

“Yeah,” you smile at him, ducking your head as soon as the tears gather in your eyes, “yeah…”

He takes a step closer, reaching to wipe the tear that fell from your eye, cupping your cheek in his large hand, “What ails you, my queen?”

“I just…” words die in your throat as he rubs soothing circles on your cheek, tracing the shape of your cheekbone with his thumb. “I’ve been feeling so unloved.” Your voice comes out a fragile whisper.

“Why is that, my queen?” He asks, swallowing harshly at the thought of his fool of a brother being neglectful to you. He’s been given the most beautiful maiden in the realm as his wife, so dutiful and sweet, but taken for granted because Aegon can’t simply keep his cock in his breeches for so long.

“Did you happen to see him when you were out?” You ignore his question, looking up at him from beneath your wet lashes that frame your eyes so perfectly.

He nods, his strong hold on your face never faltering, if anything he’s now more determined to punish Aegon, to take something he has been given on a silver plate but failed to care for. His touch is warm and welcoming, it grounds you to this moment of brief recognition of your feelings. Aemond seems to understand it, willing to give more, but his main purpose of this visit is to hurt Aegon the way he has hurt him.

“Was he—“ a sob is stuck in your throat as you try to utter the words, “in the b-brothel?”

Aemond looks down at his muddy boots, recalling how his brother saw him, how he laughed and undermined him in front of his friends. Aemond forgets about your question for a second, pressing his lips into a thin line and gritting his teeth before he looks back up at you, not before looking one last time at your chest, watching your milk soak through the fabric.

“I-I apologize, maybe it’s best if you leave—” You move away from him, making his hand fall from your face as you try to put back the little dignity you have left before you embarrass yourself more in front of him.

Something shifts inside him as you hide yourself from him, putting more distance between as you move toward the bed. His brother was right; he has not sampled another and has always sought out the Madame, but maybe it ought to change, maybe the fire of his brother’s cruelty might quell if he takes his most precious possession from him.

“Allow me to help you, my queen,” he walks toward you slowly, his eye seizing you up, taking in the sight of your curls around your shoulders, your skin glowing under the orange hues of the candles.

You turn around, watching him take long steps until he’s standing in front of you. He raises his hand, brushing his knuckles on your collarbones, his eyes dropping down to your cleavage. You exhale shakily, whether it is in requited desire or surprise, he does not know, but you do not push him away, just a weak protest that ‘we should not do this, I am your brother’s wife.’

“My brother is a fool who demeans others to feel powerful, and he has done this to us both,” he dips his down on your neck, his hot breath fanning on your ear, “let me show you what you have been deprived of.”

“You wish to help me just to teach your king a lesson?” your voice comes out with a slight tremble as you reach to brush your fingers through his silky hair. “Is that truly why you want me?”

“I despise when Aegon takes what is his for granted,” he says, “He is a fucking twat who takes for granted the treasures he has been given: the throne, the crown, you. And he humiliates you, his queen, by stepping inside that sinful place," he mumbles against your skin, tracing his lips over your neck while his nose nudges your cheek. 

“What do you want to do?” you whine when he bites your earlobe; you cling to his shoulders.

“I wish to fuck you like a hound,” he groans into your ear, his hands coming to grip your full hips.

“We will experience his wrath, Aemond,” you try to protest, but with how focused he is on marking your skin, you cannot help but melt in his arms.

“He is the king, I’m a kinslayer,” he hovers his mouth over yours. “I will kill him too if he dares to subject you to his anger.”

“We must be quiet-mhm—” he cuts you off, smashing his lips to yours, swallowing your protest. His hands move to your waist, gripping and caressing wherever he can reach, his tongue meeting yours in a soft battle of dominance. 

You moan into his mouth when one of his fingers traces a line from your hip up to your breast, squeezing the heavy flesh in his large palm. He groans against your sweet lips in delight, loving the weight of you in his hand. His thumb swipes across the wet towel before he pulls it out of your shift and drops it on the floor, leading you backward past the privacy screen to the bed.

You tangle your fingers in his soft hair, reaching to pull away the tie and letting his shiny silver hair frame his face beautifully while he kisses your breath away.

He lies you on the bed, breaking away from your lips for a second to look down at you, making room on top of you with his gaze fixed on the way your milk soaks through the fabric. He grabs the sides of your shift, ready to rip it apart before you put your hand on his, shaking your head, mumbling a hushed ‘we need to be quiet’ before taking off the dress yourself, lying under his heated gaze all bare except for your small clothes.

“My brother is a fucking idiot,” he mutters before he leans down to lick a path from your neck to your heaving chest, swiping the tip of his tongue over your nipple. He hums as he tastes a few beads of your milk, but abruptly stops when you whine, looking up at you with a questioning look.

“Maelor, well, he can’t latch onto his wet nurses. They are a bit s-sensitive— oh!” Your hand flies to your mouth when Aemond closes his lips around your bud, sucking like a babe being starved for hours, finally having his fill.

His other hand moves to your other breast, pinching, squeezing, and playing with the flesh while he gets drunk on your milk, helping the weight of discomfort vanish immediately.

Your nipple falls from his lips with a lewd ‘pop’, and he moves to the other one, giving the same attention while he leaves sticky lines of your milk across your chest, sucking on your teat quickly, nearly growling at the taste.

You cannot do anything besides moaning behind your hand and arching your back, pushing your chest further into his face. You throw your head back as your hips buck into his, his bulge rubbing against your covered core.

Aegon has never done this for you, it’s always been his duty to plant his seed inside you with little to no care for you to just make an heir, and after Jaehaerys, he’s been ever more distant — no more dinners, no walks in the garden with you and the kids.

His interest weakened the more you started to show, your soft dolce features turned into one of a woman, a mother-to-be, so he sought his pleasure in the brothels to fill the void you could no longer fill. You were non-existent in his eyes, and for once, you are glad, because the other Targaryen brother seems as if he’s in heaven while he feasts upon your breasts like a deprived babe. 

He lets go of your nipple finally, giving the fat of your breast one last kiss before he works his way up to your lips. He unlaces his pants and breeches, urging you to reach and undo his doublet, dropping it down on the pile of clothes. He breaks away to gasp for air while he grabs the back of his linen shirt and stands on his knees stark naked, his cock red, angry, and ready to burst inside you. His mouth shines with drops of your milk and spit.

He grabs the back of your thighs, spreading your legs to his hungry eye, licking his lip as his gaze falls on your soaked cunt. Aemond’s patience runs thinner than before, he moves closer to you, and his hair falls around you like a silver waterfall.

He strokes himself a few times before aligning himself with your entrance, pushing in until his cockhead is inside your warm cunt before he slams all the way into you. He muffles your scream with his own lips, hands coming to rest around your head, caging you under him as he starts thrusting.

Finally, he thinks, finally he has taken something that belonged to his brother, something so precious and fragile. You are nothing like Sylvie, you are soft and delicate, you taste deliciously sweet, and oh so responsive. 

He relishes the way you scratch his back as he fucks you with abandon, snapping his hips into yours furiously as he lets the pent-up anger he feels pour out of him. It is the anger he had inside because of his brother’s idiocy, the words that cut him deep like a sharp dagger.

But no more, no, it is time to take whatever belonged to Aegon. You are just a beautiful touch to it, and he would make sure his brother knows who’s been here, on his bed, giving his wife the pleasure she has never experienced before.

“My queen,” he shushes you, reaching down to collect a drop of your milk before reaching to smear it on your lips, licking it off them. His cock pistoning inside of you quickly, but he is mindful of the baby sleeping on the other side of the privacy screen.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, breasts bouncing with each deep thrust as you try to keep your voice at bay.

He remembers his brother’s words once more; ‘did you fuck her like a hound?’ No, not with the Madame, but he will fuck the queen of the seven Kingdoms like one now.

He pulls out of you, leaving you clenching and whining at the empty feeling before he flips you over on your stomach, pulling your hips up as he spits into his hand and strokes himself before making home inside your tight cunt again, his cock reaching deeper with this position.

You fist the pillows under your hands, biting the fabric to muffle your noises, and Aemond notices that it is your husband’s pillow you are lying on.

He chuckles lowly, one hand gripping the fat of your hip while the other runs down the curve of your spine before he fists your hair in his much larger hand, pushing your head into Aegon’s pillow even more.

“Breathe in his scent while I fuck you like a dog in heat, yes, good girl,” he groans, his limbs tingling with pleasure and anger, letting his emotions take the best of him as he picks up his pace. “Yes, remember how much of a pathetic husband he is, think of how he can never give you pleasure like I can while I fuck my child inside you.”

Tears run down your face from how intense he is taking you from behind, his hips snap into your arse. Your wetness drips down on the bed sheets, but there is little you can do but take what he gives you — a blinding and mind-blowing pleasure you have never had with your husband.

Aemond reaches around your body to find your pearl, rubbing quick and steady circles on the bundle of nerves, leaning down to prep your spine with feather-like kisses, taking in your mesmerizing scent, and looking closer at your tears, taking pure satisfaction in seeing what a mess he has made out of Aegon’s wife, the realm’s queen.

You come with a sob, teeth digging into the soft cushion while your legs shake, walls clamping down against his girth, eliciting a deep throaty moan from him. He lets go of your weeping cunt and grabs your bouncing breast, squeezing the heavy flesh in his hand while his face falters, his thrusts deepen.

When his climax washes over him, it’s all white hot pleasure that rushes through his veins. He shakes atop you while his cock twitches and shoots ropes of his warm spend deep inside you, filling you to the brim. He kisses your tears, his face pushed against your cheek as he lets out broken gasps and groans.

He untangles his fingers from your hair as soon as he calms down from his high, bringing his milk-covered hand to his lips to lick it clean while he meets your eyes.

You look angelic, glowing with the aftermath of your release. The Mother came to life, he thinks.

He pulls out of you gently, minding how sensitive you must feel after the brutality he bestowed upon you. Aemond helps you under the covers, not caring to clean either of you up before he lies down next to you wrapping one arm around you while you curl next to him with your head on his chest.

He notes how quiet you are, drowsy and sleepy in the aftermath of your climax. He takes pride in how peaceful you look, and how good he must have made you feel. His good eye falls on the nightstand on his side, finding his brother — no, the Conqueror's crown — glinting under candlelight.

“I will kill him,” he whispers, “I will make sure our son sits upon that chair and holds Blackfyre. I will kill him, and no one shall ever know it was me.”

[shrimpybbq]

rafe experiences the comfort of a mother

synopsis: rafe appears on his girlfriend’s doorstop, badly burnt and in need of care and affection

Rafe stood in front of the guest room, body stiff and hand frozen against the wooden door. He wanted to knock, he really did, and yet he was hesitant. Only the day before had the couple fought, screaming and shouting until both were out of breath. Rafe had watched his sweet girl leave with teary eyes and he’d felt bad, his heart twisting as she had slammed the door in his face. It was the same door he finally knocked on after realising he’d been motionless for too long. The rap of his knuckles echoed and for a moment, he wondered if she wouldn’t answer the door at all, until a creak sounded. Rafe raised his gaze to see his girlfriend standing in front of him, her fists rubbing the sleep away from her eyes.

“R-rafe? What are yo-”, she began to ask, voice heavy with tiredness, the hour late. It wasn’t until she looked at him properly that she paused, taking in his entire state. Rafe was standing there, clutching his arm to his chest protectively. It wasn’t the childlike pose that caught her eye though, no - it was the way Rafe’s eyes were filled with unshed tears and his bottom lip wobbling ever so subtly.

“Are you ok?” She asked gently, as if she were talking to their son. Rafe could only shake his head side to side, slowly pulling his arm away. At the sight of the red and blistering flesh, she gasped loudly, “Oh my god! What happened?”.

“I-uh, I got into some trouble,” Rafe responded timidly, full of shame and in pain.

“Come here,” his girlfriend said, gently ushering him into the guest room, “sit down. Have you cleaned this?” She asked. Again he shook his head, leading her to hum lowly. “Ok, I’ll need to clean it. Gimme a sec.”

Rafe sat on the bed patiently as he took in the room. He’d never been in there since she began sleeping in there, now taking in all the little trinkets she had lying around. He had been trying to get her to move back into his room but she still refused, and the pair used the nursery as a mutual zone.

His musings were cut off by a gentle voice questioning him.

“What happened Rafe?”

“It’s nothing, just an accident, you know?” Rafe grumbled out as she began to wet antiseptic pads in front of him. She looked up at him, gaze incredulous.

“This is bad, Rafe. You don’t just get something like this accidentally! You said you got into trouble before - what did you mean by that?” She questioned. Rafe sighed, having underestimated just how much she would question him, but he should’ve expected that, he thought to himself. When he didn’t answer, she began to clean his arm.

The sharp stinging sensation that travelled through him as the antiseptic touched his burn made Rafe jump, his voice exclaiming in shock. It was that sudden pain that caused the unshed tears in his eyes to spill over, and it was like once he started he couldn’t stop. All his pain and worries spilled out of him, the tears streaming down his face.

“Oh baby, it’s ok, come here,” he heard her say, cleaning forgotten as she pulled his head into her chest. Whenever she had comforted Rafe in the past, this had been his favourite position, curled up against her chest and having his hair stroked. So she did just that, soothing his heaving sobs with each pass through his hair. “It’s ok Rafe, you’re ok here baby. I’ve got you, ok? Breathe, Rafe.”

He didn’t know how long they stayed like that, his sobs wetting the fabric of the tank top she wore. He’d almost completely exhausted himself by the time his sobs stopped, only able to breathe deeply now. It was then his muffled voice could be heard, “it was Barry.”

He felt her stiffen before she tentatively probed further. “Barry, your dealer?”

At the feeling of him nodding, she pulled him away from her chest. Her voice was stern, as if she was talking to a small child,

“Rafe, why is your dealer burning you? What did you do?”

He looked up at her, eyes wide and rimmed with red. He looked just a like their son, she thought, his features so innocent and needy.

“I-I couldn’t pay him back in time… I tried, I really did, but I had this thing and I couldn’t get it all there in time, and I said- I said to him I would get it bu-but he didn’t care,” Rafe began to ramble, his voice pleading with her to understand him. He had been trying to do better, for her - for his family. He watched her sigh, before she returned to clean his wound in silence. Rafe wanted to speak, to explain himself more but he didn’t know what to say, and the idea of her disappointed gaze upon him once more sealed his lips. The feeling of her fingers smoothing a burn cream over his wound tenderly had him curling back into her chest.

She began to card her fingers back through his blonde locks, feeling Rafe relax against her. When he was upset he would be one of two ways: angry and reactive, or clingy and touch-starved. Today, it was clear he was the latter. She couldn’t bare to leave him alone like this, and so she gently whispered,

“Come here baby, let’s get you into bed, ok?”

Rafe pulled away, his eyes wide as he looked up upon her face.

“Here?”

She nodded and began to pull the covers away, creating a space for him to shuffle in. Rafe allowed himself to be guided under the quilt and he couldn’t help but sigh at the feeling of her fingers tenderly brushing his messed-up strands away from his forehead. As he made space for her beside him, Rafe watched his girlfriend pull away from the bed.

“Nononono-” he began to mutter, only to be cut off. His hand was outstretched pathetically to try and keep her by his side, scared to be alone.

“Hey, hey, it’s ok. I’m just going to the nursery. I thought you’d want him to stay with us tonight,” she soothed, watching surprised as Rafe shook his head in response.

“No, let him sleep. Just c’mere,” he mumbled, dragging her into his side and under the blankets. Within seconds Rafe had found his position for the night, curled up into her side, his head resting on her chest once more. He was so sullen and quiet as he listened to her heartbeat, hands clutching at her waist.

“Goodnight Rafe,” she uttered sleepily, the events of the night catching up to her.

“I love you,” he said quietly, his voice muffled against her chest. He didn’t say it often, preferring to show his love for her through actions, but she always knew it. With a soft kiss against the crown of his head, she echoed those words back to him, before slipping into unconsciousness,

“I love you too, baby.”

[bonniepop]

you take a deep breath and try to smooth out your skirt on your lap. this is a very important night for you—far from how you normally spent a saturday night. you were dressed in a brand new dress, wore more than your everyday makeup, and actually put effort into making sure your hair was styled. your skin was buzzing and—

oh my god. oh my god. did you—did they just call your name?

"congratulations," said the woman next to you, reaching for your hand and shaking it. you blink at her and sit up, completely taken by surprise.

"oh—um—thank you—" you stammer, before she ushered you to stand to take your award, clapping her hands together as she did.

making your way to the stage felt weird, like you weren't in your own body. like—

a booming "YEAH!" resounds from the back of the audience, followed by frantic applause and borderline inappropriate hollering. "THAT'S MY GIRL!"

"oh my god, atsumu," you mutter, pressing your hands to your face.

you vaguely hear him proudly tell someone, "we're getting married!" and that makes your face break out into a smile so wide that it kind of hurt.

the announcer at the stage welcomed you with a handshake, gently positioning you to take a photo. you take the award with a smile and a polite bow, before straightening and speaking into the mic.

"thank you so much for this award," you start.

"YEAH, BABY!" atsumu yells from the back, and the crowd bursts out into laughter. "YOU DESERVE IT!"

you let out a laugh. "um, it's been a long journey to get to this point, but truth be told i wouldn't be standing here without the help of my team. i don't think i would've gotten as far as i did without them—"

the angry response was quick. "DON'T SELL YOURSELF SHOR—OW! THAT HURT, MOTHERF—!"

the crowd once again bursts into laughter, and you catch your face with one hand and try to calm yourself. osamu had sat next to him; he probably punched atsumu in an effort to temper the embarrassment. you understood, though. you're beyond ecstatic and touched your fiancé was here to support you, but this was starting to get mildly embarrassing...

"um, yeah, anyway," you say, trying to compose yourself, "um, again, thank you so much for this award. as theodore roosevelt said, 'the best prize that life offers is the chance to work hard at work worth doing.' and i'm very lucky to have my team who feels the same way."

"I LOVE YOU, BABY!" atsumu yells, and you hold in a laugh.

you feel like you can end your speech here, as the crowd already applauds, but you decided: fuck being embarrassed.

"and of course," you say, "i'd also like to thank my wonderful fiancé and japan's number one setter, miya atsumu. thank you for always being the best teammate, in love and in life." you raise the award. "i love you."

you can almost see him at the back, practically standing on his seat as he applauds louder than anyone in the room. you can imagine osamu, sinking further down into his own seat in utter humiliation.

after the ceremony, atsumu collects you into his arms and twirls you around. "congratulations, baby!"

you hug him. "thank you, atsumu." when he sets you down, you smile at osamu. "thanks for coming with him."

"i am never doing this again," he says flatly.

atsumu grins and loops an arm around your shoulders. "you're just jealous you're single as fu—OW, stop fucking hitting me!"

[venmondiese]

A Cure For A Bad Day

Summary: Aemond has one of his worst days ever, nothing seems to go right. At night, at least, he gets the company of his new wife as he bathes.

Based on Ewan Mitchell's and TGC 'Scene Reactions' when he says "When we did that scene, when he had the rain machine going in, the dye on the eyepatch... it just stained the wig"

✧Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader ✧Warnings: MDNI 18+, p in v sex, bath sex, breeding kink, overall very sweet, aemond discovering feelings. ✧Word Count: 5.2k ✧ Ao3 link: here ✧gifs: by myfandomprompts

Aemond is known for many things. He is fierceless, perfectionist, well trained with the sword, and bold. Those things he was proud of. 

And all those things, he was not today.

He trained by morning, and Criston Cole was waiting for him. The sword felt slightly different on his hand, weird, but he just took it that he slept badly and that's why his arm felt numb. 

Now, after losing his eye, he had to learn things differently. He had a considerably big blind spot, and so he learned how to keep it aware of his surroundings as training with the sword. Yet, those things do not have in mind the little rocks on the ground, which he stepped on and twisted his ankle as he tried to defend Ser Criston’s attack.

And with that, he twisted his ankle and slightly cut his hand. 

He was annoyed, but he tried not to pay attention to it. A silly mistake. The rock was on his blind side, how could he notice? It was a rookie mistake, and it burned his cheeks to remember it. 

By the evening, after eating, he decided to ride Vhagar. His girl liked long rides, not so fast but more calm, and prowling around the crownlands skies.

 He did not anticipate the rain. 

For some reason or another, Vhagar was as grumpy as him, and she did not seem to want to go over the clouds in the rain. No, she wanted full on take a bath on the rainfall.

And Aemond had to bear it. But what was worse was when he realised that his eyepatch had dyed his hair. He just picked the worst eyepatch today. 

His hair was slightly silver auburn, and just in some parts. He hated it, and it made his day ten times worse as he realised the eyepatch had been too tight, and it had been suffocating his scar without him realising. 

He had trouble with the sensibility on his left side of his face, and just today he put his eyepatch too tight. It made him furious.

And he decided to make it everyone’s problem. 

He was laying in the bathtub, next to the fire as he had a horrible headache. He came in, demanding a bath as the servants had to rush to get him hot water.

 He took his own clothes off, kicking his boots away, refusing any servants touch as he undoes his own leather jerkin, he unties his breeches, grunting and mumbling in frustration, hating each instance of this day. He thinks a bath will help him to relax even a bit. He just wanted to sleep, and end up with this horrible day. 

His scar itches, and it drives insane. It was as if the itchcame from the deep parts of his cheekbones and it drove him mad. He was at the edge of peeling his own skin to scratch his damn scar. 

Only in his undergarments, he ignores the chilling cold from the chamber, and he walks barefoot as the servants fill the bathtub with hot water. As hot as possible. He walks over the chimney, and throws the eyepatch in, hoping it burns in hell. 

His loose hair, tinted with the dye of the eyepatch. If he only knew who was the mastermind behind it, who decided to spend coins on it; he would kill them. And they better hope this stupid dye can get off with the bath, or head will start rolling. 

The water was hot, but he paid no mind. He liked boiling hot, and he sat against his as he let the attendant boy prepare scents and the oils to put on the water, and to wash him. Aemond didn’t allow him to wash him; yet. He wanted some moments of peace in the hot water, so he remained a good amount of time still.

“Bring me the ointment that Maester Orwyle prepared for my eye” Aemond’s voice is low, yet demanding as the boy gets out, not without bowing to the prince.

He waits, pinching the bridge of his nose as if that would calm his nerves, his headache. He believes it works, so he is focused on it, as he accommodates his legs on the water, trying to be relaxed.

Time is a bit dizzy, and when he hears the door open, he can hear the servants speaking hushedly, as if wanting him not to hear. Good, because he didn’t want to listen to them either. 

He can hear the little taps that the shoes do as the maid leaves the oils for his hair on a near table, and takes his hair on her hands, gently. He doesn’t turn to face her; he just wants the damn dye to get off. 

Hands wash his hair, and if he wants to relax, this is making it impossible. The little tugs and the awful way that scrubs his hair to take the dye off, and the weird caresses on his neck from time to time. 

“You are not doing correctly" he grumbles to the servant with closed eyes as his migraine is persistent. "Learn how to wash a prince's hair" he adds, sharply.

“Apologies” The voice comes as a murmur, a bit strained if even, as the hands go to his neck, and all the way up.

“My prince” He adds sharply, he cannot believe his luck today. “When you address a royal member of the Targaryen House, you use their title. My prince” he says, patronisingly and even angry. 

“Yes, my prince” a little cough at the end, he either thinks the maid is trying to hold back a laugh or embarrassment. Not that he cares, as he has his eye closed and a hand on his temple, his head resting on his hand, that caresses his forehead trying to get that awful headache away

Aemond's face was scrunched up in pain, as his eyes were closed. "Are you new at this? I swear... I am starting to believe that they are just sending me incompetent maids to attend to me..." the young prince groaned.

His body stiffens, as arms go to wrap his neck from behind, and before he can sit up properly, he feels the maid kiss his cheek lovingly as she giggles. “Apologies, my prince…” 

The voice is clear as day, and if his hand was going to fetch the little dagger on the table by his side, it stops. 

He turns his head to his right, seeing your wide smile as you wait for his reaction. He groans, rolling his eyes, which causes you to laugh loudly.

His new wife, she always liked to tease him and cling to him, always hugging him, taking his hand in hers or kissing him all over. He didn’t mind; he always allowed her even at court. But he won’t admit that he likes it too.

“Wife” he greets you as he sighs, and he feels your hand rubbing circles in the back of his neck. 

“I know, I do not know how to wash hair. You’ve made it completely clear”

“I thought you were a servant” he says, looking at her. “You are a highborn lady, you don’t need to know how to.”

“True…” you say, moving some of the wet hair out of his face, and squeezing it so it isn’t dripping. “I heard that my prince had a horrible day, and he was in a bad mood. Servants do talk, you know…” you say looking at him with a smile “Wanna tell me about it?”

Aemond sighs and looks at you, as you take the sponge to wash his body. He sighs as you pour some of the water in his chest and start scrubbing softly.

“"A terrible day... I stepped on a rock, and twisted my ankle and cut my arm in the process... Then i wanted to relax with a ride on Vhagar, but it started to rain, the fucking dye of the eyepatch got all over my hair and eye.. I have the worst migraine now..." his voice is rough, and he seems annoyed at the memory of it. “And I haven’t seen you as much as I’d like”

It wasn’t the worst day he has ever lived. Maybe. When he lost his eye it could be the top one. He won Vhagar, at the cost of his eye. It was an amazing thing, traded for the worst thing that has ever happened to him. He was still living the consequences of it today, as his scar stinged on his skin.

“Not your best day, I see” you say softly, scrubbing his chest. He enjoys it, as he looks at you, leaning back in the bath as you scrub his chest. “I’m sorry to hear it”

“I don’t need pity” 

You chuckle “It is not pity” you say softly, looking at your husband. “What can I do to make you feel better?”

Aemond stays silent. He is not used to someone caring about him like this. Sure, his mother cared for him, and so did Helaena But not like this. 

“Be by my side”

The silence is a bit comforting, as you wash his body. He looks at you deeply, and he cannot help but think how stunning you are. You didn’t find any discomfort in washing him, in caring and tending to him. You never once seem disgusted by his lack of eye, by his empty eye socket, or his ugly scar. Never once you discarded him. 

It was more than often that you placed the ointment prepared by maester Orwyle on his eye, his scar, where his nerves were permanently damaged and they brought discomfort to him. You never once complain.

“You look different” he says, looking at you in the dim lights of the room.

“Different how?” you ask, as you finish brushing his hair, making sure the dye is almost completely getting off his wet hair. He has little curls, which makes you smile like an idiot.

“I do not know. Shining. Radiant. Lovely.” He murmurs, moving one of his wet hands to tickle a strand of hair on your ear. “Different”

“So I usually do not look radiant or lovely…”

“Not what I meant” he groans and you chuckle softly. “You were sick. Now you look much better in… spirits.”

“You look different too” You say looking at him with a smile. Your eyes fall to his chest, and you smile. He notices how you get flustered at the sight of his nakedness. 

“More wounded” he says ironically, leaning back with a sigh. 

“Stronger” you correct him smiling. “More… mhm. I’d say more… Hot”

“You think I am hotter when I'm wounded?”

“Not what I meant” you say chuckling under your breath, “I meant… I like seeing you like this... Leaning back is so... manly, and hot…" 

“Oh, do you?” he asks slightly amused, leaning back still as he looks at you, nodding and smiling. Aemond frowns a bit, and he hisses then you accidentally hit his new wound on his wrist. 

“Sorry, love” you say, kissing his hand, and smiling. “You know, when I was little they cured my wounds like this. With a kiss”

“Did they?” He asks, trying to remain interested even with his headache. 

“Yes. Like this” She says kissing near his wound, a very feather-like kiss. “See? Does it feel better?”

You look at him with an adorable expression, as if you truly think that this would make him feel better. Aemond blinks, as he looks at you. 

It ticks him the wrong way that you care about him. Why would you? Perhaps it is a womanly thing. He wasn’t so sure. Perhaps as his wife, it is your burden, having to make a maimed man feel better. 

The prettiest maiden in court, chained to a maimed man, deformed and always wounded, stuck in the pain of his eye to see beyond. Wasting your best years with him. 

And he cannot decipher why.

“Aemond?” You ask as he trails off. 

“Yeah” he clears his throat, awkwardly, and he moves his legs a bit. “I guess so” 

“Where else does it hurt?” You ask sweetly.

He sometimes hates how kind you can be, he doesn’t know what your upper intentions are, but after all, you are his wife even if he can’t decipher you.

“Well, my eye, obviously…” he says a bit embarrassed “And… my left foot, I guess. And my arm, because I slept on it… and…”

You nod, looking at him as he speaks. He is intimidated, he realises. You make sure to hear all of what he has to say, with your sweet eyes. 

You move to the end of the bathtub, and move to kiss his ankle softly, no complaints, no hesitation. Nothing… odd, about it. Only out of tenderness. You kiss his shoulder, and his left cheekbone, softly, to make sure it doesn’t burn on his skin. He just lets you, because it makes you happy, thinking that it helps.

And he doesn’t realise that it actually helps him, in a way. The smile on your face makes him smile too, and he sighs.

“Better?” 

“Mhm” he hums in agreement, looking at your face. “Better when you're with me, yes” 

He is utterly head over heels for you, even if he isn’t good with feelings. He loves you, even when he seems slightly annoyed by you. 

“And you?”

“And me?” You ask curiously.

“You were sick. Coughing like crazy, and all your body ached.” he says softly, “in confinement, away from me… Do you truly feel better?”

“I am better. Lady Westerling got all of us sick” you say with a slight smirk. “my body still aches a bit, but it’s…” you hesitate a bit, slightly nervous.

“Then join me” he interrupts, moving to try and get you in the bathtub with him. "The hot water will do good to you..."

"It will burn my skin, I hate how hot you take these baths..." you protests, moving his hands off your waist as he tries to pull you in.

"The Blood of the Dragon, wife" he says smugly, smirking. "It is cold, anyways. It is barely warm"

"You like it boiling hot" You say smiling to him, and he presses a kiss on your jaw.

"I do, indeed." He admits "Come on, get in with me"

“Aemond, my nightgown…” you protest, and he rolls his good eye.

“You have others, let it get wet” You seem to give in, as he helps you get in, holding your hand as you enter the bathtub. “It will do good to your aches.” He insists, taking your waist in his hands to place you on his lap.

“I think it is an excuse” you say, blushing a bit as you accomodate on his lap.

“A good one, you must admit” he says looking at you, and he passes his hands all the way up to your back.  “But an innocent one, I must admit” he says, and you tilt your head as if asking him to elaborate “I don’t think I am up for anything, I am too tired for it”

You hum, his still wet hair made him look almost cute. His little curls...

“The dye came off” you say, as he leans to kiss your neck a bit. “I can go to the tailor and ask them to make another eyepatch one for you. More fancy. With real leather. Maybe add some fancy dragon scales in it” 

“Hm. Fine” he says looking up at you, smiling at how delicious you were. He places a kiss on your hand, and he smiles. “What is bothering you?”

You stay still, blinking a bit. “Court. Ladies… at court. They don't seem to like me much. I mean, they like me but I always feel excluded. Like I am doing too much for them to like me”

Aemond looks at you, a bit surprised by it. He places his hands on your waist, and he certainly was thinking about how to comfort you. He wasn’t a court charmer either, so he hummed.

“I thought you had friends.” 

“I do… I guess. They just never seem to think of me when doing things. They do not hate me, no… I am the new one…, and so they just…. Don’t include me”

“I’ll include you” he states nodding. “I’ll bring you with me everywhere. Training, riding Vhagar, in the library, all of it.” He proposes softly. 

“Hm. It would be pleasant.”

You smile softly, your hands, now wet and in the water, move from his abdomen all the way up to his chest.

Your husband was well fit. A prince of the realm, training with the sword since he was little. He practised almost every day, and was very detail-oriented in his field. And that paid off, as he was lean; yet muscular. 

You two were still newlyweds. Maybe three months since you two married, and things were a bit awkward still. You tried to decipher his odd behaviour and he tried the same with yours, starting to know each other personally, yet there was a bond, a silent affection you both shared for the other.

His body felt warm. He had stayed at the bathtub for Gods know how many hours, and he was all wet and shiny. You hand caressed his muscles, going up from his abdomen to where his wispy chest hair were. 

“What is in your mind?”

You hum, and smile “How handsome my husband is” you murmur “How good he is to me…” you add “How much I truly like you…”

Aemond raises his eyebrows, and he looks at you as your hand caress his torso up and down, slowly, as if you were tempting him. 

“Oh?”

You nod softly, and even if he doesn’t know you too well; he knows this face.

You move to kiss his neck, your arms wrapped around his torso as you leave little kisses all over his skin. He chuckles a bit, at your little desperation for the demonstration of love, you were such a physical person for him. 

“Darling, what are you-”

“I just missed you” You say, and he can see in his head the pout you would form if you weren’t so eagerly kissing his neck. 

He chuckles as his hand holds your waist firmly on his lap, and he leans his head back, facing the ceiling as you two spoke. “Very eagerly, I see” 

“You are tired. But let me…” 

Your arms wrapped around him, holding him as you press gentle kisses there, and he smiles, starting to feel the boiling arousal in his abdomen, looking at the ceiling as if it could distract his mind. 

“Very well” 

His arms went to the edges of the bathtub, as he felt the fabric of the nightgown against his chest, and he certainly was starting to enjoy the constant nibbling and wetness of your kisses. 

Aemond lets out a quiet groan, enjoying the gentle bites at his neck, as he feels his neck a little warmer. “You little minx- Did you just give me a hickey?”

Your giggle tells him all, as you move your lips to the start of his clavicle. His good eye closes as he enjoys the way your mouth feels against his sensitive skin. 

“You are simply… delicious” you murmur, your kisses going lower to his chest, before stopping a moment.

“Do not tell me you want to leave a hickey there…” He says, moving his head down to look at you.

As he imagined before, your mouth turns into a pout as you frown; most adorably he must add. 

“Oh, please! Let me try” You ask him “It is a way to show you that I missed you” You add, trying to convince him as he chuckles, making a mocking sound. 

Aemond rolls his eyes as he feels your eager mouth sucking the skin of his chest, as if he was some kind of… not even he knew. It felt strange. Worshiped and feral. That’s how it felt, at least for him.

Once you separate, you look at your work, your thumb moving along the bruised skin with a satisfied smirk. 

“Looks so good on you” you swear, as if it was a matter to be known. 

“If it makes you happy” he says, accommodating on his seat, the water moving along with him. “My turn, then?” 

You shake your head with a giggle “You always make it a mess!”

That he did, and he smiles a bit, seeing the lack of lovemarks of your neck.

It is you who eagerly kiss him, and press your body to his, as if needing him. He isn’t one to complain, as he feels your eager lips pressing against his and your tongue invading his mouth. Rather bold, to his taste. But he likes it.

Your hands on his shoulder make their slow way down, passing temptingly slow from his chest, to his abdomen. He gasps in the kiss, as if he was some kind of maiden, when he feels your hands underwater on his crotch and touching his cock. 

He frowns a bit as he separates, trying to demand an answer. “Wha-” he tries to ask before you shut him up with a kiss, not even letting him speak.

Rather eager, aren’t we… He thinks, but he isn’t one to complain, as your touch is like magic to his dick. In the water is odd, he has to admit, but his member thinks otherwise as he gets aroused from your eagerness.

You smooch him with kisses, and he feels… intimidated, in a good way. You don’t even allow him to breathe without going for another kiss, desperate. Feral.

He has a feral wife, it seems. 

“Darling, what are you…” he asks amused as you break the kiss, just to move your wet skirts all the way up, but he can’t see much of your pussy in the water, which he dislikes a lot. 

“I missed you” you repeat “A lot.” 

“It isn’t as if you were confined in a tower for years. It was barely two days. And I visited you-”

“I need you, husband” you state impatiently, as your knees move to the sides of his hips. “so, if you are tired, I’ll do it” 

He blinks, surprised and taken aback. He is rather amused and aroused, at his bold wife.

“Alright” he says, looking at you as you can do the work alone. 

He isn’t tired for sex, not at all. He can certainly get the energy, maybe not perform as usual, but he’ll do it if you ask. You didn’t even need to ask for it. But seeing you in control is better than that.

You rode him once, for later to admit that it wasn’t your favourite position, because you grew tired quickly. He didn’t mind, but now he thinks he’ll have you riding him at least once a week.

The way your dick enters your body is slow, as you slowly lower yourself on it. He can see your face contoured with pleasure, how you shut your eyes, and your hands grip on his shoulders as you whimper on it, you open your mouth and he leans to kiss your neck a bit, as if wanting to give back the affection you give him.

More than bounce on it, you find it more practical to grind on it. Your hands, that move between his waist and his shoulders, as if you didn’t know where to hold him to help you grind against his cock.

“That’s so good…” you whimper as you grind on his cock. 

The water moves around, the harder you grind, the harder it moves on the bathtub. He is even sure that some of it has overflowed the bathtub, as he looks at your pretty face, as you moan needily. His hand moved to pull down your nightgown, just enough to expose both of your tits in the firm fabric. He pulls it down to expose your shoulders a bit, and it is a sight that only arouses him more.

“It’s so good, baby?” He asks looking up to you, and he leans his head to kiss your nipple, gently. 

He knows you missed him. You are not rough, or a mess on his cock. You are doing it so prettily, so sweetly, he knows that you truly have missed him and his touch. 

“Yeah, so-so good.” You babber a bit, nodding as he kisses your other breast softly. He does not hold you, he has his hand on the back, trying to keep him firm as you ride him. 

His right hand holds your waist, as he notices. Your arms are on his shoulders as you whimper and moan, grinding him, not even minding the water around.

He has to admit, in the bathtub isn’t as comfortable as outside of it. The water doesn’t help to be smoother, if anything, he has the impression it does the contrary. It may be just him, as you don’t say anything against it.

“So eager, baby…” he says amazed, and now he feels like the one worshipping you. He just adores you, he realises, as he sweetly talks you through it “You just needed me, this badly?” He asks, kissing your jaw.

The little nods you give him are enough to get him moving his hips slowly up to meet your little grinds and bounces.

He kisses your breast again, and the other, and the other. He adores you, how the little mewls from your mouth are so arousing for him as you clench your pussy around him. 

“Aemond…” you whine. “Feels.. amazing, so good...” you repeat, as if you couldn't think of anything else, as he looks up to you. 

 He is just surprised you have gotten this far without begging him to take control. They way he’d take your waist and flip you around, to make you hold the other edge of the bathroom, just to take you from behind, again, and again, and again. The water would overflow the bathtub completely, and his seed would be securely in your womb. 

But you don’t ask him, and he doesn’t do it. He likes the sweetness of it. He likes how you look at him needily for both of your lips to meet on a kiss, passionate as your bounces and grind are slightly weaker. 

“My special girl…” he murmurs, kissing you again and again, not minding if they are pecks or if he has the opportunity for his tongue to play with yours. “I love you”

You nod, whimpering and whining as you say it back. I love you, I love you, I love you. Again and again, as if it was some prayer.

“Aemond” you moan into his mouth, 

“I know. Can you feel how good you take me?” He asks softly, kissing your chin, as he holds your waist to help you bounce on his cock. The splash of the water amuses and arouses him, and he groans at the sight of your nightgown fully soaked, glued to your figure.

“Mhm. Yes, yes, Gods, yes” you said, probably numb and already cockdrunk, just enjoying the feeling of his cock so deep inside.

“You want me to fill you, hm? To make you round with my seed, baby?” He asks, looking at you, moving to kiss your neck. 

He is also rambling at this point, as you squeeze him in the perfect way, asking to be filled with cum. He ignores how the water splashes his chest and back, how it is practically soaking the carpet under the bath, and making a mess. He has to remember how wet it might be so you two don’t slide on the floor. 

“Aemond, I… oh, Gods, Aemond!”

You little moans are music to his ears, as he holds your waist to move you down to his cock, to his taste. Not as rough as usual, but certainly desperate enough to want to cum.

“Will you cum for me, darling?” He asks, as he feels your hips grinding more desperately on him, and he throws his head back on the edge as he feels his balls tighten as well. You did wonders on him. “Cum for me and I’ll fill you up as you so much like” he promises, almost feral for you to cum. 

Your release made him moan, loudly, as he held you tight on his cock as he cums as well. He looks lazily at you, panting and whimpering still, which only serves to fuel the last remains of arousal on his abdomen, filling your womb with his cum. He hopes it takes root  and to see you grow pregnant as moons pass by.

“Thank you” you say, breathless against his chest, kissing his cheek sweetly. 

He smiles a bit, by how pleasure drunk you obviously were. He moves you slightly, to pull out from you and accommodate you on his chest, which you take comfort in. “Nothing to be thankful for. I thank you. Having sex is rather… good for when one had a bad day” he says smiling. 

You smile, and look at him, caressing his chest as you remain in this position, calmly breathing as he tries to stop panting. 

“Have I made it better?” You ask, softly, looking up to him.

He chuckles softly, almost amused by how ridiculous the question was.

“Just by having a sight of you, you make my day better” he says. 

Even if he was new to this whole marriage thing, even if sometimes he didn’t know you that well as your ladies-in-waiting and sometimes just allowed you to be even if it bothered him. He didn’t understand you most of the time, but he certainly adored you, very dearly. 

“I can make it even better” you say almost proudly, and he raises his eyebrow, looking at you laying on his chest. The water wasn’t even hot anymore, but more cold than he could bear. 

“Oh, how so?” He asks amused. “Did you claim a dragon? Only that can top the amazing moment that we just-”

“I am with child” you say simply, looking at him with a smile. 

He stops on his tracks, and looks at you as he takes in what you said. He blinks, looking at you, and you smile awkwardly at him. Was he happy? The prospect always puts him in a good mood. But maybe it wasn’t as you thought? One thing was words, and other actions.

You watch his eye as he seems to have hundreds of thought per second, his face slight confused as he frowns a bit, before his lips turn into smile full of disbelief.

“Are you joking?” 

“No... Maester Orwyle informed me this morning” you say softly. “He says that probably our wedding night was fruitful. I don't know. I don't look that pregnant, after these months. We have to figure it out in these days, so we can see when the birth is due... It's funny, because at first we thought it was from the sickness, that I got the worst part… but I just happened to be sick and pregnant”

That's why Maester Orwyle looked at him with a slight smirk as he helped desinfect his arm after training. You probably asked him to keep the secret so you could tell him.

That's why there was something off about you. He couldn't get exactly what, but something was off. It made sense, how nervous you were and how you tried to tell him before, but he was a fool to not notice it.

“Oh, my love…” he says, as he wraps his arms around you, hugging you tightly to him. “Oh… I don’t… I... What can I even say to that?”

He is surprised, and he can’t believe it. You were pregnant. You actually were. His little offspring, growing in your womb right at this moment. Your stomach was not firm by any mean, he couldn't decipher it even if he liked so.

“That is… That is the best thing anyone has ever told me” he admits, chuckling a bit in surprise. “You are going to be a mother. And you are going to make me a father” 

"We are, indeed" You say smiling to him. "In some months, it will be me, you and a weeping babe"

He can feel his nose burn as he smiles, the image on his head as he forces himself not to cry of happiness, a weird chuckle comes out of his mouth.

"You are right" he says looking at you. "So, you are definitely moving to my chambers now, aren't you? No more personal chambers, no more confinement when sick. You are not leaving my side, not you or our little dragon" He states nodding, not for discussion. He can't have you just wandering around without him near to protect both of you.

He smiles, as you giggle. His day certainly got better, all thanks to you. His hands caress your back soothingly, as he is just... happy. He forgets about his horrible day, how his ankle still hurts or how his scar stings on his cheek and forehead as he smiles. What is that compared to the joy of knowing that he will be a father? A father to your children as well?

“Now, how come Lady Westerling got my pregnant wife sick?” he teases you as you roll your eyes. “She is in so much trouble, who does she think she is? Both my wife and my sweet baby? Oh, she is not going to see sunlight ever again-”

“Aemond!” you giggle, but he smooches your cheek with kisses that only makes your giggles grow louder.

[rafesangelita]

⊹₊⟡⋆♡ “have you ever tried this one?” in which kook!sweetheart!reader convinces rafe to take her to go see one of her favorite artists, and as a ‘thank you’ she and rafe have to do whatever position sabrina demo’s for her song “juno..”

warnings: fluff, unprotected sex, dirty talk, praise, breeding kink (?)

a/n: so sad because i didn’t get to see sabrina on tour, and she has had me in the meanest chokehold lately :( click this link to see what position i’m referring to <3

when the dates dropped for sabrina’s ‘short n’ sweet’ tour, rafe wasted no time in buying you two tickets. of course, you didn’t know this and begged him for weeks until he finally told you yes, your flight and hotel room already booked for a nice little weekend getaway. rafe helped you make your concert outfit, both of you spending hours on the whole ensemble. the end result was absolutely stunning and rafe couldn’t stop taking pictures of you.

he posted one on the night of the concert, captioning it ‘my little popstar princess <3’ and you two were off to the stadium. while you knew wearing sparkly white platform boots wouldn’t be the best choice to walk in, you stuck it through, and as soon as the lights dimmed and the music started, any kind of discomfort you felt had melted away as you were far too distracted singing along to every song that boomed through the venue.

babydoll lingerie top with pink fluffy trim, dedazzled stockings, glittery makeup, your hair freshly done, rafe swore you never looked prettier. even though he was against wearing anything that sparkled, he decided to wear a plain pink t-shirt to match with you in his own little way. he kept his arms wrapped around your waist as you two sung, having learned the lyrics to every song since you insisted on being in charge of the aux cord whenever you two were in his truck.

eventually, you two were swaying softly, rafe’s chin resting in the curve of your neck as you stroked the skin of his arm. “thank you for bringing me here.” you smiled up at him, connecting your lips as the intro to ‘juno’ started playing. rafe hummed, leaning down so you could hear him. “you know i had to bring you, baby.. what do you say you thank me another way when we get back to our room?” your cheeks heated as you laughed softly.

“yeah, i’d like that,” you pecked his cheek, “how about we do the position she does for the song?” rafe smiled, both of you fixing your attention on the stage. you waited with anticipation, your heart beating in your ears when she bent over and touched her toes. rafe cheered, making you laugh as he couldn’t wait to get you back to the hotel. luckily for him, there was only a few more songs left before the show ended and the two of you rushed out of there.

it wasn’t long after you two walked through the door that rafe had your boots thrown in a forgotten corner, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips as he took you roughly from behind. you struggled to keep your hands placed on your perfectly pedicured toes, your knees threatening to give out from under you while rafe thrusted into you at an unforgiving pace. “holy fuck, you’re taking it so fuckin’ good, gorgeous, ‘might just let you get off your tippy toes and put you on your back instead.”

you cried out, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as his pelvis smacked against the back of your ass. “can’t, rafe!” you shrieked, nearly doubling over before your boyfriend reached down and grabbed your arms, holding you by your wrists as you hung helplessly from his grip. he was fucking you stupid, and your lack of thoughts was proof of it. you couldn’t think, the feeling of rafe’s cock stroking that soft gummy spot inside of you made you whimper pathetically.

finally, you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, your knees meeting the carpeted floor. rafe picked you up, cursing under his breath as he encouraged you to get back in position. “promise i’ll have you in bed soon, pretty, you could hold out for me, yeah?” you shuddered, looking at him from behind your shoulder with that fucked-out gaze he loved so much. you had tears in your eyes, your body glitter still sparkling under the soft lighting.

giving him a little nod, you reached down once again, holding onto your ankles for dear life as rafe circled an arm under your hips, holding you up as his fingers started working on your clit. “oh!” you were in hysterics, your blood rushing to your head as he landed a harsh smack to your backside. “come on, baby, ‘wanna feel this pussy squeeze around me.” you moaned at his words, your orgasm just in arm’s reach as rafe’s thrusts grew uncalculated. “rafe?” you could barely speak, the band in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment.

“talk to me.” he groaned, teetering the edge of pure euphoria. “make me juno?” you giggled for a split second, the insinuation only turning rafe on even more. “fuck, yeah? ‘want me to fill you up, give you a baby?” you let out a distorted “mhmm!’, the two of you gasping when your highs took you both to cloud nine. rafe pulled you back up, your chest rising and falling while your legs shook with your orgasm. pressing wet kisses to your neck, rafe did exactly as he said, his hips stuttering as hot, thick ropes of cum painted your velvety walls.

you two stayed like this, pressed against one another until your breathing slowed, the aftershocks subsiding before rafe laid you both down in bed. “we should have a ‘short n’ sweet’ themed baby shower.. we could serve espressos.” rafe laughed, draping an arm over your tummy. “we’ll see.” he hummed. your eyes fluttered shut as you breathed him in, his cologne still heavy on his skin. “you know what we should try when we get back home?” rafe traced shapes into your side, mumbling a ‘what’s that?’

“pink fuzzy handcuffs.”

[bi-writes]

you don't think ghost likes you very much. (part 2 of this, but can be read standalone) (18+, semi-dark content ahead, ghoap x fem!reader)

he doesn't like you. no matter what you do, what you wear, what you say, you know he doesn't approve of you, not really.

not like johnny.

johnny adores the ground you walk on. his lips are always on you. in your ear, along your neck, against your collarbone. his tongue is warm, and it slides along your jaw, around your fingers, sucking on your skin.

"what a nice gift, LT," he always says. "got the nicest pussy 'v e'er had." and then he puts those eyes on, those big, soft, blue ones, and he asks, "can i keep 'er, LT? can i have 'er?"

and johnny is so good. johnny does what he's asked of. johnny says yes, he never says no. johnny smiles and nods and does what he is told, and so johnny gets to have you.

johnny gets to keep you.

but you are a pet, and you are nothing more, and ghost never lets you believe otherwise. he doesn't even give you his name; it's ghost, and ghost only, and he never touches you. not the way the johnny does.

he competes with you, but it isn't a competition. johnny doesn't listen to you, not if ghost contradicts you. he will win, and he will win every time, and even though you are aware of this, he reminds you, all the time.

"johnny, please--" you sob, and he laughs, rubbing his stubble against your thigh gently. it's wet, because he's slobbered all over your cunt, and your hole pulses because it wants more. "johnnny...j-johnny, please--"

"oh, relax, my little lamb..." he sucks your clit into his mouth gently, suckling on the puckered bud. you whine at that, reaching down, pulling on the long strands of hair down the middle of his head, and he groans. "makin' a right mess..."

you're crying. tears falling down your face, pleasure like fire at the base of your spine and crawling up your back, and you reach up and squeeze the swell of your breasts, pulling on your nipples gently. johnny always gets you here--right at the top of a glorious fucking hill, and when you come down it, he carries you, keeping you high for as long as he can before he tries again and again and again--

"fuck are y' doing?" a rough voice growls. johnny's ripped off of you, his back arching as a gloved hand yanks on his head. johnny grunts, hissing, and you whine when you see ghost gripping him by his neck, holding the back of his head to his chest. "spoiled. you spoil her, johnny."

"she's so pretty, LT...i--"

"you spoil her." ghost tilts his head to the side, and you see his eyes narrow, a harsh glare at you from under the mask that makes you shake a little. "spoil her fuckin' rotten."

he doesn't let you come. he's a selfish motherfucker.

you don't know why he doesn't like you. for all intents and purposes, he chose you. and he had all but asked you to leave. tortured you, yes, but he hasn't asked you to leave. he still wants you here, doesn't he? if he hated you, if he was jealous, if he really disapproved of you, a man such as he would just kick you out, wouldn't he?

johnny and ghost are gone today. you're alone, and you've decided to occupy your time by cleaning. you put away the clean dishes, fold the laundry that was stuck in the dryer, pick up around the kitchen. ghost keeps the place very clean--but they were pressed for time in the morning, so johnny left you with the softest kisses, and ghost with just a grunt.

you're arranging fresh flowers in the living room when you hear the front door shut. you bounce into the hallway, a big smile on your face ready to greet johnny, but you freeze when you see only one big shadow shrugging off his rain jacket.

ghost is by himself, and he rolls out his neck as he toes off his boots. he hangs up his jacket, still not looking at you.

"wot?" he snaps. "cat got your tongue, little rabbit?"

you swallow, shaking your head.

"sorry...i thought...thought it was johnny."

"yeah? and wot? just 'cause it's not johnny, gonna not greet me like y'should, yeah?" he bites. you stand still for another minute before coming towards him. you lean up on your toes and kiss his cheek, but when you pull away, he reaches down and grips your ass tight, forcing your pelvis against his and rumbling low. he snarls a little, and you tilt your head back as he presses the front of his mask against your lips, kissing you through it. "tha'sit. good girl."

a soft sound comes out of you, a moan, a whimper, you aren't sure, but he smacks your ass gently, nodding his head.

"go on," he mutters. "on the couch."

he eyes you as you walk away.

"'n why the fuck are y'wearin' all those clothes?"

your insides warm at that, and you turn your head to look at him over your shoulder.

"oh. sorry." you slide your sweats off and toss them aside. it's then that ghost realizes you're wearing his shirt. he runs a hand over his taut stomach, adjusting himself shamelessly in his jeans as he watches you bend over to get onto the couch. you wear no panties, and he hums under the mask, tilting his head to the side.

"johnny got held up on base," he murmurs, coming into the living room. you take a seat on the couch, looking up at him, squeezing your thighs together.

"so...we're all alone?" you ask. this is your chance. this is the opportunity you have been waiting for. with no johnny to distract him, all he has is you, and he can't ignore you. not this time.

"all alone, sweetheart."

you swallow hard. "why don't you like me?"

the question is blunt and clear. ghost clicks his tongue under the mask, focusing on you, and he shakes his head.

"tha' isn't wot it is."

"then what is it?"

he just stares, and you shake your head. you need answers. you need to know what you're doing wrong--you want to be good.

"not you, luvie. it's my boy, my poor johnny..." you watch as he grips himself through his jeans again, visibly hard as he squeezes his cock over his zipper. "fuckin' annoying when he isn't the center of attention. my attention. you understand, right?"

you watch him, licking your bottom lip.

"b-but...but--"

"turns into a bloody muppet. pouts like a baby." ghost comes closer, leaning over you, gripping your chin gently. "wot, huh? thought i didn't want y'around?" you whimper when he squeezes your face between his big hand, squishing your cheeks. "'n how could i not, yeah? look at ya..."

he growls under the mask.

"y'wet, sweetheart?" he asks, and you lean back, spreading your knees, and he grunts when he sees between your thighs. the skin is wet, soft and slick, and he hums lowly when he sees how you clench around nothing. "wanna taste, luv. give it t'me."

you reach down gently, sliding two fingers through your folds. you whine a little, scooping a nice handful of slick, and then you pick up your fingers for him. he pushes his mask up, and you shiver when you see the wicked grin on his scarred face. then he takes your fingers into his mouth.

he leans over you. his mouth his hot, and you shake a little when his tongue slips over your fingers, warm muscle swallowing as he tastes you.

"fuckin' hell," he murmurs when he lets your fingers go. "know why johnny spends all his time down there, yeah?"

you giggle, arching your back a little, pulling his shirt up.

"ghost...why dont...why dont you come here?" you reach for the waistband of his pants, tugging gently, and he falls over you on the couch. you meet his eyes as you start to unbutton his jeans. "i want you to spend time here, too, y'know."

"tha' right, sweetheart?"

you smile, "y-yeah." you unzip his pants, your jaw falling open when you pull him out. he's so big, nice and girthy and pretty, and the tip is so pink, dribbling precum and just aching for your tongue to taste him. you rub your thumb over the tip, and he hisses. "and...a-and i love johnny..." you look back up into his eyes. "b-but...i..."

he reaches around and fists your hair, growling against your lips.

"need a right beast to fuck this pretty pussy, yeah? need someone to--" you cry out as he yanks your head back, exposing your neck to him. "--fuckin' ruin ya."

you squeal, arching your back, and he chuckles, but it's mean. you wrap your arms around his neck, and he leans down, resting his forehead against yours.

"yah, luv, y'r mine, just as much as johnny--" you gasp when he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, "y'belong to me. gonna write my name across your fuckin' cunt, sweetheart, fuck that idea right into your pretty head--"

you cry when he fucks you. when he sits up on his knees, gripping you from under your thighs, fucking into you with a reckless rhythm that leaves your thighs shaking and warm tears coming down your face.

"look at you..." ghost hisses, and you cry more, keening as he stares down at where you're connected and the squelch of you dribbles down his thighs. "bloody hell..."

your back bows, your thighs clamping around ghost's hips as he fucks you into the mattress. you can barely think, the only sensation you can really absorb is the way his thighs smack against your ass and the feel of his big, gloved hands spreading you open.

"just needed me right here, yeah?" ghost grunts, slowing his pace as he nestles his pelvis right against yours. you whine; he's so deep, it hurts, but it hurts so good, you don't tell him to stop, you can't. he's so much bigger than johnny, in every way, and you feel suffocated, but if this is how you die, so be it. getting fucked brainless is not the worst way to go, not like this. you gasp when he smooths a big hand over your stomach, pressing the pad of his thumb to where you know the tip of his cock sits. "right there, luv, tha' place is for me, yeah? 's mine, my spot--"

ghost leans down, growling against your neck, a firm grind of his hips punching your cervix again. you claw at ghost's back, and it's painfully obvious how desperate you are--you nearly rip ghost's shirt in pieces.

"this place is for me," he murmurs, spreading his fingers. he grips your waist in both hands and gives you a hard thrust, leaning his head back as he feels you clench hard. you like it when he talks, he can tell--the sound of his voice has you that much wetter, and he clicks his tongue as he leans back, rubbing a gloved thumb over your pretty little clit. "wanna live here...want ya to be my little pet..." he smirks under the mask when you cry, so sensitive. "whenever i want, want you bent over, spread nice 'n wide f'me." he hums low, "whenever i want, yeah?"

he talks like you aren't there. like he isn't cock-deep inside of you, molding the soft places of your pussy to the shape of him. ghost, despite being a little breathless, has no tremble in his voice despite how hot he feels, and he knows, suddenly, why johnny fawns over you. there is nothing that compares to this--there is nothing quite like fucking this pretty princess, watching her tits bounce, her thighs shake, feeling how soft and lovely she is when he gets her right where she belongs--stupid and cumming.

"a princess ya are, yeah?" ghost chuckles. "a right spoiled one, innit?"

and maybe you are a little spoiled. you had no idea you would be getting two for one--johnny and his looming shadow.

you grip ghost's shirt from the front tight, balling it up in tight fists and pulling him close.

"please!" you squeal. "please, please, please--" you moan and sob against the front of his mask. "w-wanted you for so long--w-wanted--"

"ya did?" ghost tilts his head to the side, picking up the pace. he cradles your head between his arms, pressing his face to yours. "even though i was a bastard?"

you mewl, nodding, reaching down and gripping his lower back as he grinds mercilessly. the curls at the base of his cock are rubbing against your clit now, and you angle your hips to catch the feeling every time, and you know you're getting close. you're there.

"almost said your name--" you gasp. "w-when...when he..."

"poor thing--" he chuckles. "thought johnny was what you wanted?" he knows you like the way he's fucking you, and he slows down, wanting to see your face and every expression you make. "what you needed?"

you nod. "i need him," you whisper. "but it isn't enough."

"no, you're such a greedy bunny--" he grips your face tight, sitting up, and you cry when he fucks you. he's an animal, he's lost control, and you are helpless under him. all you can do is spread your knees wider and moan. "johnny can't tame you, but i can, yeah?"

you meet his eyes, big and soft and wet, and he hisses. the look in your eyes, he cums instantly, falling over you and barely having enough time to put his hand out and catch himself. you gasp at the feeling, reaching down, and with a few soft circles of your fingers, ghost lets out a strangled sound as he feels you tighten and cum. the front of his thighs are soaked, and he nudges your chin up with his nose as he breathes in the scent of you from your neck.

"don't say of word of this to 'im, yeah? got ourselves a jealous little bastard," he murmurs against your ear. you nod, and when he kisses you, you can't help the way you relax. cupping his scarred face, licking into his mouth--ghost is your keeper, and he's johnny's keeper, and you know suddenly why johnny does whatever he says, whenever he wants.

ghost is in charge. he just is, and even though you're just a little, innocent civilian, ghost has given you orders, and you will follow them. there is a soft, aching place inside of you that wants to please him so badly--wants to impress him, show him how good you can be. and you imagine, wonder, if johnny has that same feeling in him, that same little press on the inside of his ribs that screams, be a good boy, a good girl, do just as he says, he'll give such a nice reward.

and when johnny comes home, there you are, all soft smiles and tender touches and little giggles that make his belly hurt so nice. and when he tells you he's hungry, you spread your legs, using two fingers to show him your pretty, wet cunt. and he dives in, like he always does, because one of his favorite places is feeling the rub of your thighs against his stubble and your fingers tugging his hair.

his tongue spreads your folds, and he hums with delight when you fall onto your back, pliant and soft and warm. and then he tastes you, and he swallows, and his eyes flicker when there is something else there, something that he knows.

johnny's eyes dart up, looking over you, and he can see ghost lingering in the doorway, watching, and then johnny understands what it is he tastes--and why he likes it so fucking much, and why it tastes like something he knows.

he meets ghost's eyes, and they look at each other, and johnny knows what it is that he's done, what it is he's eating out of you. but ghost knows johnny is a good boy, and he won't pull away, he won't make a scene. no. johnny pulls back a little, wiping his face.

he smiles. and then he leans in for more.

[luveline]

𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐬

You’re in love with Spencer from the minute he gets you in his bed. [4k]

c: fem/afab. smut mdni, p in v sex, oral, fluff, aftercare, early intense feelings, spencer in sweetheart mode, flirting.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚⋆

It’s a cold day in November when you see him across the bar. He’s sitting at a table of friends drinking from a tall glass of coke. He’s normal. Non-imposing, undeniably cute, laughing with a smile that shows his teeth. His tie is to his belt and his suit jacket’s been thrown over the back of the chair. 

He looks like he might have fun with you, if you can catch his attention. Something about him seems… eager to please. 

You watch him, and you watch his friend. He seems more your usual type, muscled, confident. He’s the key. You let your gaze linger on the curly-haired boy until the friend glances your way. You give him a look. Hey, who’s your friend?

You look away once you see an arm rise. There’s elbowing, arguing. You sit relaxed at the bar and twists your straw through cherry spritz, ice cubes tinkling. After a minute you think, Oh, come on. After two you worry you aren’t his type. 

Then comes salvation. The curly haired boy slots between your seat and the next, beckoning the bartender forward with a nearly perfect, “Excuse me?” 

“Right there with you.”

You wait. He seems cute, but you’re not trying to take him home if he doesn’t have the chops for it. And not because you see yourself as some deadly thing to be pleased, but you can’t spend another night fluffing someone else’s feathers. 

“Hey,” he says finally, surprisingly without the nerves you’d read before. He must’ve breathed through them. “How’s it going?” 

You lift your gaze from the dark purple of your spritz. The first thing you notice are the beauty marks you couldn’t see before, along his cheeks and hiding among a light shadow of stubble. “Hi, handsome,” you say softly. You can’t imagine him liking a firm touch, but that might become more apparent later on. “Nothing’s going on, I suppose I was just waiting for you.” 

“Yeah?” he asks. 

“Mm-hm.” 

He puts one arm on the bar. You let your eyes dawdle on his hand. “Are you here alone?” 

“I was with a friend,” you confess, lifting your gaze to his, making steady eye contact for as long as he’ll allow you to. His gaze flits to your mouth as you continue. “But she met somebody. I was told not to wait up.” 

“So you’re in need of company?” 

You tip your head to give him the best glance at you, all eyes and gentle smiles as you nod. “Would that be you?” 

“What are you drinking?” 

“Cherry spritzer.” 

“Can I buy you another one?” 

“Just one, please.” You believe in the overarching reach of sexuality, of being with someone, but you don’t believe in drinking and sex, nor allowing a man to pave the way. “This is my first. If I have more than that I’ll be too tipsy to do what I want tonight.” 

“What’s that?” he asks. 

You tap your nose. The boy —the man— to your delight, seems to like the gesture very much. 

The bartender approaches. Your unknown, lovely looking man asks for a coke and a cherry spritzer, extra cherries, though you didn’t tell him too. He nods to your little plate of cherry stems and asks, “Can you tie a knot?” But before you can answer, he adds, “I’m good at it.” 

Spencer proves to be good at a few things. Kissing, touching, his face in sweet places and his spit-wet thumb to a nerve. One moment you’re sitting at the bar wondering if he’ll take you home and the next you’re taking a taxi, you’re lying in his bed being stripped of your stockings, being laid on top of. You didn’t know he had it in him, this sweaty, adoring kissing in the dark; there’s a difference between kissing for hunger’s sake and kissing with love, and for some strange reason Spencer doesn’t seem to know the difference. 

“Have we met before?” you ask, the ache between your legs sharper than ever as his hand flirts with the boundary of your stomach and the apex of you, begging to go back there and prolong what he’d started. 

“No.” His lips are on your neck, kissing as he slips a finger behind your ear. “I’d remember.”

His chest pushes into yours again, triggering a breathy gasp as the button of your nipple takes the brunt of him. He turns your face, that flirting hand abandoning your wanting cunt to squeeze at your sides, your ribs, the soft hill of your breast. 

“Do you wanna cum again?” he asks softly. The best part is that he’s earnest, not a second of bravado in it as he lays his lips against your cheek. 

You could. He’d done stuff with his mouth you’ve never experienced before, fingertips teasing your wetness as he told you something about tantrics and pleasure, his hand under your knee, holding you open. You’d felt so suddenly out of control and —and honestly, you’d thought yourself half in love with him for the way he was kissing you alone. No shyness, but softness. No rushing, no annoyance when it took you time to tip into pleasure. He’d been delighted when you seized, had sat up to draw the climax out with circles, matching pace to your rising chest. 

You slip a hand into his curls and treat him with the same sweetness he’d given you, kissing him like you love him: for whatever time this is, you really do. He’s the prettiest boy you’ve ever fucked. All it took to meet was a snowstorm and a need to escape the rigid cold. 

“I think you should fuck me now,” you say, scratching his scalp lightly, not so frantic, no more pulling. “Please.”

He kisses you, kisses your jaw, and doesn’t pretend he isn’t eager as he snatches the condom from the dresser. For a while things are giggly and breathless, nervous for a pause, then achingly tight. You stay and Spencer wraps his arms behind you, kissing your neck as you let your leg fall to the side. 

“When did you tell me your name?” you ask, breathless again as his kiss matches his rhythm, slow grinds of his hips, flirting as his hand had been, just a few inches from filling you completely. 

“I don’t remember,” he says through a kiss.

“Spencer.” 

“Yeah?” 

“I just thought I’d try it,” you say, covering your eyes with your hand as his hips flex and he touches that worst part of you over, and over, and over. 

Spencer turns your face to take your hand, slowing to a crawl. He checks your gaze, and sinks into you again. Slow fucking, long kisses, his hands rubbing up the juncture of your neck and down again, then stroking your arms, comfort for a pain you don’t feel. 

“What do you want me to do?” he asks quietly. 

“Just this.” 

“No, but what do you want?” he asks, lips pulled into a smile that didn’t quite make it into a laugh. “What feels best? I can get you there again.” 

So you end up more on your side than your back. He helps you lift a leg over his hip and then he’s back to kissing you senseless. You can’t think of anything but being kissed, being fucked, it doesn’t just feel like an okay pastime with a vaguely handsome guy heightened by a drink, it’s fucking with intent. He curls an arm behind your back to hold you against him and he lets you have everything. 

Something must give you away, a shaking leg, the way you breathe; he knows you’re ready before you do, kissing down your chest as his hand sinks between your hot thighs. Slick or not, he finds where he wants to touch, your eyes filling with heat as he slows. 

He draws it out. The second his lips find your chest you trip into cumming for the second time. You hadn’t realised he was close but you cum and he quickly follows, his nose at your collar. He sounds insane. Beggy, breathy moans, a shade from laughter.

“Can I keep going?” he asks just under your ear. 

You can’t say yes fast enough. He’s kind, ignoring your desperate tone. 

You don’t count the number of times you fuck that night. It’s not clear, really. They aren’t separate occasions. You come down and he’s stroking the skin of your neck as you catch your breath, drawing lines down your arm, murmuring, “You okay?” as you nod and slip a hand behind his back. 

He hugs you like he’s known you for years. When you kiss his blushing chest, kiss downward, he turns breathless. It goes on like that for a while. Afterwards, he situates himself between your legs and lets his weight force your thighs into your abdomen, just enough to feel the pressure, searching kisses pressed to your knee. 

It’s not that you fuck all night, it’s just different than before. And when he encourages you under his sheets to lay behind you, there’s a part of you that wants his hand to stray between your legs again, no matter how tired you are. 

“I’d say sorry for keeping you up, but you sounded like you liked it,” he murmurs in the dark, wrapping a solid arm around your stomach and pulling you tightly to him.

You have no regrets. For perhaps the first time ever, it feels as though all your gasps and teary sighs were adored, and not just smugly kept. “You didn’t notice me falling asleep?” 

He laughs at your teasing, his breath kissing the back of your neck. “When did that happen?” 

“…I don’t want to fall asleep, now.” 

“You don’t have to… I can make you a cup of tea, or…” He draws another line down your arm, ending in a swirl before your elbow. “You could shower.” 

Both sound nice, but no. Your legs are still weak from being held, the ache of a good fuck taking home in your stomach. Truthfully, nothing could make you wanna leave whatever it is he’s doing to you now. The shape of his lips warms your shoulder. 

“That was amazing.”

“You’re amazing,” he says, wrapping you up all over again. He can’t decide how to hold you. You grab his hand and keep it there under your breasts, letting your eyes flutter closed. 

How can he say that? He has this strange way of touching that’s making you feel yards prettier than you usually do, and he’d just fucked you like a dream. You couldn’t manage that sort of pleasure alone. 

“Where have you been hiding?” you whisper, toying with his fingers. Might as well do everything you can while you can. 

“Nowhere.” 

“So where have you been?” 

He takes a breath. “Turn around?”

You begin turning and he takes you like a dance, leaning in slowly to kiss you, until his smoothness gives way to a smile. He pulls back. In the barest lick of light from the window, you can see a blush spreading across his nose. 

“Sorry. I should ask, I shouldn’t just kiss you,” he says, cupping your cheek. 

How might you go about marrying this boy? You decide to play it cool, kissing him until you fall asleep in his arms, your lips still parted for another lazy press of his as he pulls the sheets over your shoulders. 

—

You wake to something new. There isn’t a man against you hinting for a morning tryst, nor an empty bed, a note to let yourself out when you’re ready. There’s a real, gentle hand on your neck. It slides to your shoulder and rubs. 

“You okay?” a voice asks. 

You force your eyes open, blurry vision further occluded by a face. 

His hair is damp. Like he showered a while ago. Spencer’s hand travels to the back of your neck and touches accordingly. “I wouldn’t have bothered you, but it’s almost one. I was worried you might be sick.” 

You close your eyes, smiling, better when he scratches the back of your neck with short nails. “I was up late.” 

“I know, I’m  sorry.” 

You wait for him to tell you why you have to leave, any manner of excuse, but nothing comes. 

“So are you? Okay?” he asks gently. 

“I’ll leave soon.” 

“That’s not what I’m trying to say. If you’re not sick, you can go back to sleep.” 

“And just lay in your bed all day,” you murmur, disbelieving. 

“If you wanted to. Or… you can shower, and I can make you something to eat.” His thumb takes to your cheek. One night stand sex can’t be something he does often, or there’s a real possibility that he’s the first man to ever do it right.

His eyes are so much bigger than you realised. “Do you wear glasses?” 

He stammers, embarrassed, “How would you guess that?” 

You raise a hand to his face and draw a short line against his nose. “You have the marks here. Were you reading?” 

“Just while I was waiting for you.” 

“What do you do?” 

“What?” 

“I didn’t ask what you do, I don’t think we managed to ask each other much of anything,” you say, rewarded for your vulnerability with a chest-aching smile, his canine teeth peeking from under his lips. He still looks kissed, lips a shade of sore you’re sure you’d see on yourself in the mirror. 

“I work for the government,” he says, catching your hand to cradle your wrist, “for something called the behavioural analysis unit.” 

“Like, statistics?” 

He lets your hand fall against his chest, a thin grey t-shirt under your knuckles failing to hide the shapes of him, of which you’d explored at length last night. You kissed as much of his chest as you could and it hadn’t felt like enough, Spencer leaner than you’d realised with a stomach on the soft side, easy to kiss relentlessly. 

Your mouth is drying thinking about it. Spencer watches you wordlessly, before saying, “I guess it is like statistics, especially for me. We try to think about serial criminals in terms of their motives. It’s an attempt at math for something not usually quantitative.” 

“And you’re good at it.” 

“I’m good at math, yeah.” 

“Probability of a,” —your breath betrays you, slightly too hopeful as it catches— “morning kiss if I brush my teeth first?” 

His eyes light up. He leans down carefully, and gives you a chaste, firm kiss. 

You forget that you’re naked, not worried about being shy. The sheets fall away from you as you lift up to meet him. He holds them to your naked waist, the other hand skirting just below your breast. You wish he’d touch you like he did last night, but he isn’t so forward. His kiss is kind. You frown as he pulls away. 

“I had a really great time, last night,” he says, tip of his thumb setting your nerves aflame as it drifts over your skin. “Really great.” 

“Me too.” 

“And you’re okay?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Nothing hurts?” he asks. 

“No, of course not.” Your confusion clears. “No, you weren’t like that. I think my legs might be aching but that’ll go away in the shower.” 

“I can run you a bath, if you want. It’s a half bath so you might not be able to stretch out, but it’ll help.” He gives you a smile. The familiarity between you doesn’t want to ebb. 

“Shouldn’t have showered without me,” you say, soft, lest playful be something he doesn’t want on a new day. 

“My hair was greasy. Someone kept touching it.” 

You sit up. Spencer’s hands fall to yours.

It’s hard not to play with someone’s hair when it’s in their face, and when they’re trailing kisses in warm places. He doesn’t blame you really, you can see it in his eyes. 

For a pause, you just sit. 

This is nice. Not being thrown out, left with that aching gap in your chest like you gave something you hadn’t intended when it started. Sex will never be easy again, you realise, not when you know it can be good. 

“You’re not working today, are you?” you ask. 

“No, why?” he asks in turn, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. 

“Maybe we…” He waits. He’s pretty enough to force your hand. “We could get to know each other,” you say, gaze taking refuge on his hands. “If you want to.” 

”Really?” 

“I’ve never had that with someone. Maybe we’re, I don’t know, compatible in more ways than one.” You remember yourself, lifting your head, startled by the sheer want in his expression as he holds your fingers. “You’re handsome, and you seem kind. We could have fun.” 

“We could have so much fun,” he says, that flushed blush already spreading across his nose again. 

You draw a line up his chest. “I might need help getting my back, in the shower. That’s not a tight squeeze, is it?” 

“We might have to stand very close.” 

You giggle wildly as he pulls you up, worse when he drapes a sheet over you worrying about the cold. It’s treatment you could grow used to. 

— 

Spencer’s trying to figure out how he got here. You, across the bar sending him looks —Derek swore you were— and the second he got to your chair he realised you were out of his league, but he had nothing to lose beside his pride. 

Then there was you, in bed, pulling on his tie murmuring sweet somethings, sweet pleadings, really, taking another kiss as he moved as you asked. 

Then you, the morning after. You’d slept for long enough to scare him, but when you woke you were exactly the girl you’d been the night before, only slower. Ever so slightly bashful. We could get to know each other. 

Spencer’s not sure how he managed it, but you don’t go home. And on Monday you go to work and come back. On Tuesday he meets you outside of your building to take you for dinner, and you come back with him again, another night up in his arms, tangling his hair with enthusiastic fingers. The sex is good, it is, not just ‘cos his past catalogue of lays were with women who wanted casual experiences solely, or those few times with Ethan where it ended too fast and left him useless. You fuck him like you love him. It’s crazy, except he’s acting the same way. 

When you’re not fucking you’re in his lap, or sitting at the coffee table with your face on his thigh driving him crazy, or you’re laying with your feet tucked under him telling him something about you. He is desperate for the details. 

Like, this is it. You’ve pulled your chair as close to his as humanly possible and thrown both legs over his, basically sharing his seat as you laugh around a messy mouthful of Thai noodles. 

“Don’t look, I’m being disgusting–”

“You’re never disgusting, let me–”

He’s heard you pee. He’s kissed you all over. The human aspects of you don’t bother him. 

“Spence, can you–”

“It’s going up your nose–”

“–stop, holy s–”

He pinches your nose clean. “Tada. Kiss now?” 

“You wanna share?” 

“Yes!” 

“No.” You press your hand to your mouth before he can lean in.

He lets you swallow your mouthful. Your ankle is cool in his hand. When people talk about love, it’s about meeting someone, the dates and the phone calls, the big questions. Spencer didn’t know you could do it like this. Every time you go home, you’re asking if you can come back or pestering him to come your way. 

“Can I kiss you now?” he asks imploringly. 

“No, we’re done kissing for a bit. I want another one of those massages.” 

He can’t joke about it or he’ll turn crimson. You enjoyed a polite leg massage, until he got to your thighs, and things got out of hand. 

“No massages.” He taps you under the chin, letting his hand travel wherever it wants over the side of your face. 

“Fine, no massages. Unless you want one?” 

“No, we agreed tonight we’d just– sleep. My boss is onto me.” 

You wink involuntarily as he cups your cheek, his fingers pushed lightly over your eyes.

You aren’t fiends, but finding someone who matches as you do makes it hard to abstain from the fun. Last night was tame, though; he’d made sure you were happy and fallen asleep to grateful neck kisses. Tonight, he won’t say no, but these all-hours affairs have to stop. Derek’s suspicious of him, Hotch has the situation entirely sussed, he's sure, and Spencer’s sixty percent sure Rossi saw you both outside of Quantico tonight kissing against a toll booth.  

Not that it matters. Spencer has a good feeling you’re not a fling. 

“I got you some stuff earlier,” he says. 

You pull his hand from your face and ask, “What stuff?” 

“Like, stuff you need here. I don’t know what you like, but there’s a cleansing balm– are you allergic to chamomile?” You shake your head. “Um, it might be weird, I got you underwear, just ‘cos of the situation yesterday–”

“I liked wearing boxers, they were snug in a certain region is all–”

“–and some shampoo. That sort of stuff. Just so you can stop suffering with mine.” 

“You know what shampoo I use?” 

“I deduced it.” 

“Ah, yes, mister profiler,” you mumble, bending into your knees to hold his face. “If I hadn’t looked you up online I’d think you were a stalker. How can you guess my favourite ice cream flavour when I never told you?”

He smiles shyly. “I just can.”

“Is there anything else you’ve guessed about me?” 

“Every meal with you takes a half hour. You’re easily distracted.”

He laughs as you protest, “You’re distracting! You don’t need to guess that.” 

“You distract me, too.” 

You gather yourself up and stand over him to kiss his nose. “Spencer,” you whisper, your fingers sliding into his hair, “thank you. You don’t have to buy me stuff, I could’ve just gone home.”

“I don’t really want you to.” 

You raise your head to see him eye to eye. “I don't want to either. This is… I like you.” 

He hums, wrapping his arms around you. The hugs are rarer than kisses, but only because you’ve shared so many of the latter in the dark. He’s been thinking of kisses as the extension to fucking, that they’re okay as long as it’s done in bed, but the more time you stay, the more kisses you’ve shared for no reason at all. You kissed his cheek on the train earlier and he felt it like a shock, tipping his chin down to peck you on the lips, your arm curled behind his back as the traincar rattled over a bend. 

“I like you too,” he laughs. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, of course I do.” 

“Not just…” 

“It’s not just the sex,” he says, waving his hand behind your shoulder as you curl into him all over again. It feels amazing. 

“Should we go out, then?” 

“We do.” 

“No, should we date? We could be partners, officially.” 

Spencer can’t take it, scooping you into his lap, though you do sit obligingly on his thigh. He shifts to take the weight. 

“Please, let’s be partners,” he says softly. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t, it’s still soon.” 

“Five days and counting. That’s longer than some marriages, you know.” 

“Maybe we can be, like, tentative boyfriend and girlfriend. If you change your mind, no hard feelings.” 

“And if I don’t?” he asks. 

“Then we get married in Vegas.” 

“You could meet my mom.” 

“I’d love to meet your mom.”

“Do you really wanna be my girlfriend?” he asks. 

“I mean… there’s not such a big difference in dating and what we’re doing, right? This is relationship stuff, we just sort of skipped the awkward first dates.” 

“We did,” he says, failing to hide his grin. 

You stroke his cheek with your nose.

Your attempt at abstinence doesn’t last, but neither party is to blame. You have to celebrate somehow. So you finish your takeout dinner and wash dishes bumping hips. He locks the door for the night and you, giggling, struggle to change his A/C. When he drags you by the sleeve to the bedroom, he doesn’t intend on jumping right into it, and for a while he doesn’t. You lay on top of him between his parted legs and he spends a sluggish hour stroking your hairline, listening to you talk. But his devotion turns to your ear, and he’s kissing behind it, and you’re hitching yourself up his chest soon enough. 

“That cherry spritzer was worth it, huh?” you ask lowly, scratching his jaw as you sit over him.

You really are pretty, amplified by your syrupy smile. 

“I guess that depends what you think. Was I as good at making knots as I promised?” he asks. 

“I can’t remember.” 

“I can remind you?”

“That might be prudent, Dr. Reid.” 

“I never should’ve told you about that,” he murmurs, your lips atop his, ready to be parted. 

“I would’ve found out eventually. I’m gonna find out everything about you, honey.” 

Spencer lets his eyes shutter closed. Me first, he thinks, giving in to another endless kiss. He has the advantage, after all. 

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚⋆

thank you for reading!! if you enjoyed please consider liking reblogging or leaving a comment/reply it makes my day and I am so grateful<3 

[arminsumi]

★ Satoru's undercut

★ Synopsis : He fears the hairdresser like it's the dentist. One day, he accidentally gets an undercut style. He would have thrown a tantrum if it weren't for your positive response — because all he really cares about is that you enjoy his haircut.

★ Content : soft fluff, romantic tension, some mutual pining??

★ Library ★ reblog for a cake slice! 🍰

"This will ruin my life..."

"It will not ruin your life."

"I'm gonna die!"

"You're not gonna die."

"Yes, I'm gonna die! They're gonna cut my head off."

"They're not gonna cut your head off."

Satoru had a haircut appointment which you were accompanying him to as per his desperate demand request. Suguru was there also, helping Shoko with something technical on her phone. He laughed when Satoru was whining to you.

The four of you were on the train; Suguru and Shoko stood tightly packed with their backs facing other people as if they were the group shield. And Satoru sat next to you, clinging to your arm as if he were a kid on his way to the dentist.

"Don't laugh. You know I feel the same about hairdressers as people feel about dentists!" he pouted.

"Satoru, you're so weird." you said.

“I'm not!”

You shook your head at him. Satoru grumbled.

"No one understands me!" he said dramatically.

Suguru commented, "I do understand why you dislike hairdressers, Satoru; most of them don't cut your hair how you want."

Shoko nodded and chimed in, "— yup, and you usually leave with a fake smile and say "oh wowww... I love it!" but you actually hate it." then she went back to frowning at her phone with Suguru.

“My hair is important, I can't afford to have a bad haircut." Satoru said.

"Haha, you make it sound like if you have a bad haircut it could cost you millions." you laughed.

Satoru sat up straighter and spoke seriously, "It may as well cost me millions!"

You didn't understand why Satoru was being so dramatic.

****

The hairdresser looked at you, Shoko and Suguru and then wondered why so many people were accompanying this grown man to his haircut, as if he were about to get a root canal for the first time.

Suguru whispered into her ear, and she blushed at his alluring charm like anyone would.

"He's scared of bad haircuts... so please do your best, he has a girl to impress. See that one sitting there?” Suguru pointed to you, “Yeah, that's the one."

He accidentally flustered her, and he smirked about it when he returned to you and Shoko.

"Suguru, your head looks as big as a bubble about ready to pop." you joked, noticing his smug demeanor as he took a waiting seat with you.

"I think I just flustered the hairdresser on accident." he said.

Shoko chuckled, "Is it ever an accident? I think you do it on purpose — oh, Y/n, I think Satoru is trying to get your attention. Give him some comfort."

Satoru recoiled when the cold blade of the scissors touched his neck, and looked distressed when the hairdresser touched his hair.

You knew he was highly sensitive to touch, especially his hair — he hated people touching his hair (reason X for hating hairdressers). The only person who was allowed to touch his hair was you. Suguru and Shoko needed a "valid reason" for touching Satoru's hair.

But you could comb your fingers through his hair any time, any place for no reason and Satoru would go limp with a smile on his face, completely melting for the act of affection.

Sometimes when it was just you and him alone together in his apartment, especially during his sleepless nights, Satoru would lay his tired head on your lap and ask you to play with his hair. Each stroke of your hand mellowed him out. He especially loved the feeling of your fingers running through his hair when it was fluffy and long.

So really, he feared not the hairdresser or even the bad haircut, but the fact that it might be too short or not fluffy enough for you to enjoy. It had to be just right. He had to maintain his fluffy hair for you.

He wanted to make sure that when you saw him at every party and get-together, you'd think "Wow, Satoru's hair looks so good.". He wanted you to compliment his hair and make him feel good and blushy.

And most of all, he just wanted to please your eyes. He wanted you to be starstruck when you looked at him.

So, a good haircut was critical.

****

Satoru's panic calmed after you took the empty seat next to him. He watched in admiration as you struck up a friendly conversation with the hairdresser. She turned out to be kind. She was an apprentice (picture nervous Satoru stiffening his shoulders when he learned this) and her mother owned the establishment next door.

Satoru was mostly quiet and focused on his reflection in the mirror. He squinted in suspicion when the lady brought out a hair buzzer.

But then you distracted Satoru by asking about what the four of you were doing after this. He stuttered a bit, half-looking at the hair buzzer and jumping a little when it turned on.

You talked so much that Satoru was completely distracted, and the lady could work. Though, it was hard, because Satoru didn't really specify what he wanted... so she winged it.

She thought hey, this guy would look good with an undercut. So, she cut an undercut for Satoru, and looked at you and smirked. His girlfriend will appreciate it, she thought as she looked at you and Satoru talking with hearts in your eyes.

You weren't his girlfriend. But you may as well have been. The two of you were anyways soulmates since kindergarten. Sure, you went away for five years to work abroad, but the link between you and Satoru wasn't broken by the distance.

****

Satoru gasped and nearly fainted when he saw how short his hair had been buzzed at the bottom. His neck felt exposed and suddenly it felt more drafty.

"What the—"

"— oh, you look hot, Satoru." You said.

He immediately shut up and went red in the face.

"Thanks, yeah it looks... yeah." Satoru hesitantly complimented the hairdresser's work.

She beamed proudly and wrapped up the haircutting session. Satoru took off the black dressing gown and stood up and shimmied the white hair off his pants.

"The cat is shedding." you joked, making Satoru grin with sealed lips.

You picked a white strand of his hair off the back of his shirt when he stood in line to pay at the checkout. He didn't notice. Such a cute boy.

Satoru was just grumbling to himself about how he'd need a scarf or turtleneck to compensate for his "practically naked" hairstyle now.

You stared at his undercut and felt your heartbeat get a bit frantic.

Then you kept staring as you left the barber shop.

Satoru wrapped an arm around your shoulders out of habit, as if he were your boyfriend, so the hairdresser felt sure that you two were dating and said something as you two left that really made you and Satoru blush;

"Your girlfriend loves it." she winked.

"I'm not his—"

"She's not my—"

"She sure does! Thanks for everything, see ya." Shoko cut off you and Satoru from responding and shoved the two of you out the door.

****

That comment lingered in the back of yours and Satoru's minds for the rest of the day.

On the train home, you grazed your fingers over Satoru's undercut and it elicited the funniest reaction out of him; he shivered like a cat that had just been scratched in a sweet spot.

"Haha, does that feel good?" you asked.

"It does. But my neck feels naked." Satoru shrugged.

Oh my god, do that again, he thought. It felt so good.

"Aw, then Y/n should wrap her arms around your neck." Suguru said in a flirtatious murmur.

Shoko laughed and propped a cigarette between her lips.

The four of you got off the train, you parted ways. Suguru and Shoko lived in different places and had to wait for their respective trains to take them home. So, you said your goodbyes and went with Satoru.

When you and Satoru moved out of your university housing, you both decided to live on the same street. You can say it was for X reasons, like oh it's a good neighborhood or oh the prices are great or oh the apartment walls aren't thin... but let's be honest; you and Satoru just didn't want to live too far from each other. You were inseparable, even cry-babies whenever the two of you were separated.

Satoru was always clinging or touching you in some way – hanging off your shoulders, resting his chin on the top of your head, draping an arm around you, holding your hand, snuggling into your neck. The closeness brought him more comfort than his own bed. He even claimed once that he could fall asleep on you more readily than on his bed.

Sometimes he was just shy of kissing you when you two met up, or when he knocked on your apartment door some mornings. His lips would graze over yours by accident in some circumstances, and though the two of you would laugh it off, there was an unmistakable spark in the air between you and him.

****

“Do you like it?” Satoru asked.

“I love it. You look really good.” You replied.

Satoru smiled to himself, hiding his face in your lap.

The TV was playing the most recent episode of that trashy romance soap opera – the episode where the two love interests kissed in the rain. Satoru stared hard at their lips connecting, and thought of why he hasn’t attempted to kiss you again. He didn’t want to ruin anything, so he kept his confession to himself even if it was obvious that he liked you.

You noticed he went a bit silent as you ran your fingers through his hair. He made a soft, long groan when your fingertips tickled up the back of his neck and over his prickly undercut.

“You sound like a cat.” You laughed.

His eyes were closed, brows relaxed into a sleepy arch. Whenever he got drowsy in your lap, his lips would part and show his two front teeth.

****

After getting an undercut hairstyle, Satoru was living in heaven with how much attention you gave his hair. Every day you’d find an excuse to play with his hair.

It made his heart beat harder and his mind go blank whenever you touched his neck and hair. He’d get shivers and close his eyes each time you did it, and would even stop talking mid-sentence.

In time it grew out. He refused to go back to the hairdresser, and instead insisted that you cut his hair for him. At first, he attempted to do it himself, but then he wimped out as soon as he held the scissors to his hair.

So, after he practically begged you on his knees and voiced his fear for the hairdresser, you agreed.

Cutting Satoru’s hair was a whole event. You invited Suguru and Shoko over to your apartment, and the four of you were laughing in the cramped bathroom together.

You had no idea what you were doing, and the online tutorials didn’t help much.

Satoru was dramatic when he thought you were cutting it too short or jagged, and he was so very picky that it drove you nuts to the point of putting the scissors down and leaving. But then he hugged your legs and apologized cutely, so you came back. Suguru and Shoko had to get it on camera because it was pure comedy.

“Alright, fairy princess. How did I do?” you asked Satoru.

He checked himself out in the mirror. His jawline and shorter hair drove you a bit wild, it was hard to contain yourself.

“It’s okay.” He replied cheekily.

“Just “okay”?! I put my soul into this!”

He grinned. “I’m just teasing.” He said, “I like it. Now let’s test it out.”

You looked confused. “Test it out?”

“Play with my hair.” He explained, “And tell me you like how it feels or else I’ll cry.” He added dramatically.

© arminsumi

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

[kitten4sannie]

mafia san! always gets what he wants btw, especially when it comes to playing with his favorite toy ♡

✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖

“Look at me, baby, yeah, like that,” San whispers down to you, his breathy voice hardly reaching you past the sound of the loud, crackling fire blazing away behind you within the lavish living room of the estate, though you’re far too focused on the shlick sounds of San’s hand rubbing eagerly along his stiff, dripping cock to really hear what he’s saying to you. He presses a finger into the underside of your chin, tilting it up. “You look like you want something, princess. Use your words, will you?”

“I want to touch you, sir, please let me?” you ask, not even recognizing your own pathetic voice. When did you get this desperate for someone as dangerous as Choi San, the trusted head of the Park Estate? Your legs and feet start to grow numb underneath you from being in that same position for so long, encouraging you to lean forward, resting your head against his bare thigh, your eyes wide and full of need, feeling his muscles contract underneath your cheek as he tossed his head back, his fingers squeezing around the base of his throbbing erection. “I’ll be good, sir, I promise…”

Growing hotter by the second from the raging fire nearby and his pretty plaything quite literally begging on her knees just to put her hands on him, San opened up his heavy fur coat to expose the entirety of his naked body, his pretty tan skin glowing underneath the low light of the room. He gave you a smug sideways smile, angling his cock down to lightly smack it against your heated cheek, making you gasp. “Be good and spit on my cock, then, princess.”

Swallowing down the rest of your dignity, you pursed your lips, letting a few strings of saliva drip down onto the head of his cock, watching him eagerly lube it up, your cunt pulsating like it had its own heartbeat. His curved length was thick and heavy inside San’s slick hand, decorated with prominent veins that all led to the reddened, shiny tip. Your blushing face was mere inches away from it, admiring the way San continued to pleasure himself, from gripping at his swollen balls to running his fingers over one of his perked nipples. Not being able to do anything was simultaneously killing you inside but keeping the fire lit inside your core, and San knew that. That’s why he controlled you in this way.

“Does my pretty doll want to be even prettier for me? Hm? Does she want to be a good toy for me?” San hummed out in between heavy breaths, a few drops of sweat falling off of his jaw and wetting the fur of his coat, all the while thick beads of pre-cum pooled out of his slit and dripped down the swollen head of his cock.

“Yes, please,” you voiced desperately, your dilated eyes flitting from his pulsing cock to his fiery gaze, tears starting to blind your vision from how bad you wanted to taste the saltiness of his pre-cum on your tongue, drool escaping from your parted lips.

Chuckling softly at you, he reached down to slip his fingers into your hair, tugging you towards him just as his moans began to grow louder, taking his time as he painted your beautifully pitiful face with his hot load, making sure not to miss your glistening lips, smearing the last few dribbles of cum over them to finally give you a taste. That’s all it took for you to shudder and fall completely apart before him, falling forward into his bare lap, your mind spinning. You really were his toy, operating only for his own pleasure, which in turn had become your own, somewhere along the way.

San’s eyes resembled crescent moons, his smile only growing wider. He had molded you into the perfect pet.

“That’s my good slut. Now, it’s time to bend over and take what I give you.”

✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖

© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[jupiterpilgrim]

Sex Cage: Fame, Fun and Fire

Kwon Eunbi x Yujin x Male Reader

word count: 8.5K

part 1//part 2

You and Eunbi are seated side by side at the mall food court, each of you carrying a look of shared anxiety. Around you, the crowd is a tangled mess of shopping bags, kids running around, and people who’ve clearly never heard of headphones. But the noise outside is nothing compared to the storm within.

"So... are you nervous?" Eunbi nudges you, a teasing smile on her lips, trying to ease both your tension and her own.

"Just a little," you admit.

"Look, babe, you need to get used to this stuff. She’s just a girl."

"Not just any girl," you retort, frowning. "It's Yujin."

Eunbi shrugs, as casual as if meeting one of the biggest content creators of the moment were just another ordinary day. "So, she’s famous—big deal. She still puts on her pants one leg at a time, just like us." She looks at you, something warm and affectionate in her eyes. "Seriously, love, when she gets here, you’ll see. It'll be like talking to anyone else."

As if the universe had a particularly cynical sense of humor, a voice chimes in from behind you.

"Found you!"

You both turn your heads so fast you might win an Olympic medal in synchronized movements. And there she is—Yujin, in person, flesh and blood. Taller than you imagined, with an aura that seems to light up the entire food court. She’s dressed casually, a loose black knit sweater with a basic white tank barely visible underneath, and frayed denim shorts that add a laid-back vibe, matched with a studded belt. Sunglasses complete the look.

The brightness of her smile shatters any notion of “just a girl” into tiny, irrelevant pieces.

“Hi... hi!” Eunbi finally stands, throwing herself into a hug with Yujin, desperately trying to keep her composure. You’re still stuck on the bench, trying to convince yourself she didn’t just step out of a fashion editorial.

Yujin steps back from Eunbi and looks at you, a smile that, if you weren’t petrified, you’d swear had a hint of complicity. "And you, aren’t you coming?" She opens her arms, waiting.

You stand, trying not to look like a complete idiot, and she pulls you into a casual hug that, in your head, lasts an eternity. “I was super excited to meet you both,” she says, pulling away and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Eunbi, trying her hardest to act natural, replies, “We were too. You’re even prettier in person, honestly.”

Yujin lets out a lighthearted laugh. “Oh, thanks, but look who’s talking. You’re so much more stunning in real life, too.”

Eunbi glances away, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks. “Well, I... thank you,” she stammers, unable to hold back a smile.

Yujin removes her sunglasses and glances at you, a curious expression on her face. “And you, honey, are cute too,” she says with a hint of amusement, “but you look a bit tense. Nervous?”

"I... it’s just... it’s my first time doing this," you admit, trying to play it cool. You laugh, but it’s that kind of laugh that gives away every attempt at looking natural.

"Relax. Soon enough, we’ll all be close. Want a decent coffee? I think we have a long day ahead."

Yujin leads the way to a quieter café, and you and Eunbi exchange a look—a mix of awe and satisfaction—as you follow her.

After all, it’s just another day.

Except it's not.

—

The café is an unlikely refuge in the middle of the mall chaos. Unlike the food court, the lighting here is softer, as if the designers decided people spend more if they feel mysteriously cozy. Yujin, of course, looks perfectly at ease.

You place your orders at the counter—a cappuccino for her, an extravagant frappuccino for Eunbi, and a black coffee for you, because someone here had to add a touch of seriousness. With drinks in hand, the three of you find a table by the window, where you can watch the hurried tide of shoppers on the other side of the glass, as if observing a documentary on human behavior in its natural habitat.

Once you’re settled, Yujin turns to you both, firing off, “I’ll admit, I didn’t think you’d accept the offer. It took you a while to reply.”

You and Eunbi share one of those telepathic glances that only develop after years together. “We were... going through some stuff at the time,” Eunbi answers, a bit awkwardly, as if trying to give a short answer to a question that deserves a thesis.

“Ah, I get it,” Yujin says, with a smile that makes it clear she really does. “Relationships, huh? They always have their ups and downs.”

For a brief second, you and Eunbi glance at each other again, like two students caught off guard by a question in the middle of class. Explaining that, back in the anonymous video days, you were just friends feels like an odyssey no one wants to start. So you simply say nothing. Silence, after all, is one of the most efficient forms of communication.

Unfazed, Yujin continues, as if she has the supernatural gift of skipping over the complicated parts. “So how’s it been, now that you’re not anonymous anymore?”

“Funny,” Eunbi begins. “The first few weeks were... strange. I was afraid to go out, like, what if someone recognized me? But then I realized the world out there is a lot bigger than the view count on my screen.”

“Oh, the ego hates this part,” Yujin comments, with a smile you’d classify as experienced. “But don’t worry. The worst that can happen is someone asking for a photo.”

She tilts her head, her eyes roaming over the two of you. “And your families? How did they react?”

You clear your throat, searching for the words. “Well, only my family knows. Eunbi’s parents... haven’t found out yet, apparently. In fact, not even our friends found out. You know, it's not something you reveal with much enthusiasm. But eventually they'll get to the truth."

“Really? Well, I hope everything goes well when they find out,” Yujin says.

“My family didn’t take it too well at first, and maybe the fact that I revealed this to them when I was drunk contributed to that,” you admit, exhaling like you’re shedding a weight. “We ended up taking a... break for a while, you know? But eventually, they called, and we were able to talk without drama. In the end, they came around.”

Yujin lets out a laugh, this time a bit more bitter. “Parents, huh? Mine didn’t accept it at all. But honestly? I was never a big fan of them anyway. These days, we kind of... don’t talk anymore.” She shrugs, as if it were a small thing and not a complete family break. “Sad, isn’t it? But that’s life.”

And then, right on cue, the drinks arrive. The waitress sets the cups down with clockwork precision, and Yujin holds her cappuccino as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to keep discussing family breakdowns while savoring milk foam.

You stare at the foam on your black coffee, maybe as a symbolic attempt to glimpse into the future. “And you... do you regret this choice?”

“Me?” Yujin raises an eyebrow and smiles. “Not at all. Today, I have my own life, I live super well, and freedom is priceless. By the way, what about you two? Any regrets?”

Eunbi shrugs, leaning over to grab her frappuccino. “Not yet,” she answers, looking at you for a moment as if seeking confirmation.

“Same here,” you add. “So far, nothing’s really gone wrong. I quit my old job and now I have more free time to spend with my girlfriend, helping her with her business. But I confess that sometimes I find myself having some doubts about the future."

“Don’t overthink it. As long as you two have each other, you’ll get through any challenge.” She says it like someone who’s navigated a fair share of rough waters and lived to tell the tale.

You and Eunbi share another look, and this time the smile you exchange feels like a silent pact, an okay, we can do this.

Yujin continues with a casual prophecy. “Oh, and one more thing. This will also become your new normal. In five years, you might not even remember what the old life was like.”

Eunbi tilts her head, pretending innocence. “And is that a good thing?”

“Oh, it’s very good,” Yujin replies, with a smile half genuine, half enigmatic. She takes a sip of her cappuccino, seeming to savor every drop, as if drinking directly from a magic potion. “Freedom can be a little... lonely at times. But honestly? It’s the best thing there is.”

You and Eunbi absorb this in silence, but it’s not a silence that lasts long, as the café door almost trembles when a group of girls enter, spotting Yujin. In an instant, the carefully cultivated tranquility of the café goes right out the window.

“OH MY GOD, YUJIN!” one of them yells with the intensity of someone spotting Beyoncé. The entire café turns to look as you and Eunbi shrink in surprise. But Yujin only flashes that smile she’s probably practiced in the mirror just for moments like this.

She gives a small wave, like a queen in her royal chamber, and the girls rush over, each with eyes sparkling with admiration and a genuine urgency, as if they’re reporters interviewing a celebrity on the red carpet.

“I’m your biggest fan!” exclaims the first one, staring at Yujin like she’s the last source of water in a desert. “I watch all your streams on Twitch. I mean, EVERY one. Even that stream that crashed because of your cat. That part was iconic.”

Yujin laughs, nodding. “Ah, yes. He always thinks the keyboard is the best bed in the house.”

The second girl practically jumps with excitement. “You’re like my fashion muse! I copied that blue hair you had a few months ago, you know? But the blue washed out after like three washes. Any tricks?”

“Sure. First, get a good toner. Then say a couple of Hail Marys. Works every time.”

The third seems almost breathless with adrenaline, as if she’s been preparing her whole life for this moment. “Seriously, you’re everything to me! I even follow your playlist on Spotify. Like, I’m OBSESSED with your workout playlist.”

Yujin, now visibly flattered, raises an eyebrow. “Ah, the workout playlist… a classic.” She turns to you and Eunbi, as if wanting to share a private joke. “It has a certain vibe, you know? Who knew ‘Dancing Queen’ could be so motivating for leg presses?”

Then one of the girls pulls out her phone, eyes alight with hope. “Can we take a picture with you, Yujin? And maybe you could say ‘hi’ on Stories? Just to prove this surreal moment actually happened.”

Yujin nods like a patient teacher. “Of course, let’s do it! Who wants to be first?”

It’s chaos.

Each of them takes a selfie from a carefully studied angle, as if taking an X-ray, and Yujin smiles serenely in all of them, saintly calm. She says a quick “hi, everyone, I’m here at the café with these beauties!” on one girl’s Stories, while the girl herself looks ready to faint from sheer emotion.

Between selfies, one fan glances over at Eunbi, her eyes widening. “Wait… aren’t you Rubydden? Oh my God, I've seen some of your photos on Instagram! You’re so beautiful, seriously!”

Eunbi gives a bashful yet proud smile. “Oh, yeah, that’s me. And this is my boyfriend…”

“Is he also an influencer?”

“Well, in a way... yes,” Eunbi replies.

Another one elbows her friend, not-so-quietly whispering, “Hey guys, now there are three famous influencers here! This café’s getting a five-star Google upgrade today!”

Yujin, clearly amused, wraps up the photos and casually comments, “You girls are amazing. Really. But now let me drink my cappuccino before it turns into iced coffee.”

The girls laugh, enchanted by how Yujin effortlessly combines a hint of farewell without losing any charm. They gradually back away, waving and sending another wave of compliments, promises to keep following everything she does, and even a lone “I love you” from the back of the group.

Once they’re gone, Eunbi turns to Yujin, looking fascinated, almost incredulous. “Does… does this happen to you a lot?”

“Depends on the day,” Yujin replies, picking up her cup and taking a casual sip, as if fans were a weather phenomenon she’s learned to predict. “But lately, I’ve been seeing more girls following me. Ever since I started making content beyond, you know, just porn.”

Eunbi snaps her fingers, like she’s had an idea. “Hey, Yujin… do you think I should start streaming on Twitch too?”

Yujin looks at her over the rim of her cup, like she’s evaluating a new piece of furniture. “Should you? Eunbi, that’s not even a question. It’s practically your duty! And I say that with no pressure, of course.” She smiles, but it’s the kind of smile that makes it clear the decision is practically made.

“Besides, you already have everything. You’re charming, fun, and just mysterious enough to keep the audience hooked.”

Eunbi laughs, but you can see the idea starting to appeal to her. She turns to you. “Do you think I should try it?”

“Definitely,” you reply. “And if you need, I can handle all the tech stuff. I can even set up notifications that scream ‘let’s fucking go’ every time someone subscribes.”

Yujin laughs, nodding, and takes another sip of her coffee. “That’s it! People love that kind of silly stuff! Oh, and another thing, Eunbi: Twitch could be a gateway to other types of content. You can show you’re a whole person, you know? Talk about whatever you want. Books, music, I don’t know, the best kind of tea—anything that makes people see you’re more than a pretty face and a name. It’s marketing, it’s fun, and honestly, it’ll protect you a bit from objectification. They won’t just see ‘Eunbi, the hot girl from OnlyFans,’ but ‘Eunbi, the one who chats about everything for an hour and makes it interesting.’”

Eunbi blinks, surprised. “Does that actually work?”

“More than you think,” Yujin responds with a mysterious smile. “And, over time, you won’t even need to explain you’re more than what they see. They’ll already know.”

“So… that’s it,” Eunbi says, looking at you with an expression that’s part excitement, part slight fear. “Get ready, you’ll have a lot of work helping me set things up.”

Yujin laughs, shaking her head. “Oh, it’s going to be great, sweetheart. And we’ll definitely do some streams together. We’ll break the platform.”

You look at Yujin, a thought bubbling up in your mind. “So, Yujin,” you start, as if about to ask the secret of the universe, “since we’re talking about this spotlight thing… Who’s the most famous adult content creator you’ve ever met?”

Yujin doesn’t hesitate for a second. Her eyes light up, and her smile widens like someone about to recount a legend.

“Karina.”

The word comes out with an almost tangible reverence, and both you and Eunbi lean in slightly closer, as if pulled by a collective magnet of admiration.

“Karina?” Eunbi repeats, curiosity shimmering in every syllable.

Yujin nods, with that distant look of someone who’s seen the Mona Lisa or the Taj Mahal up close on a sunny afternoon. “Karina isn’t just famous. She’s, like... an entity. Tall, graceful, perfect hair and skin, a flawless body, and a sense of style that could make anyone feel like a shabby peasant just by existing in the same room.”

“Hmm, I see. So… she’s pretty?” you ask, choosing the simplest word so it’s not too obvious that you already know who she is.

Yujin laughs, shaking her head. “Pretty? Honey, pretty doesn’t even come close. She’s stunning. Impeccable. The kind of person you look at and think, ‘Will my mom forgive me if I drop everything to devote myself to this woman?’”

Eunbi lets out a small laugh, but it’s clear she’s just as fascinated. “And she’s actually nice to talk to and all?”

“Oh, absolutely. You’d expect someone like her to be arrogant, right? But Karina is sweet, kind. When she speaks, it feels like she’s dedicating all her attention to you. She makes you feel like the most interesting person in the world.” Yujin sighs, as if reliving a pleasant dream. “She’s polite with everyone, never makes anyone feel uncomfortable. It’s almost surreal.”

“Wow, she sounds like a myth.” Eunbi sighs.

“Almost, yeah,” Yujin admits, leaning back. “She’s a woman of class, you know? If I were to describe her... She’s like an old Hollywood movie star, but... updated for the internet age.”

Eunbi’s gaze slowly slides over to you, a hint of mischief in her eyes. “And you, babe, have you heard of this goddess?”

You clear your throat, trying to keep your composure, but your mind feels like it’s racing to avoid the tricky questions that are clearly coming. “Well... maybe I’ve heard of her... once or twice... around... on the internet.”

Eunbi raises an eyebrow, a smile beginning to form. “Once or twice, huh?”

Yujin doesn’t miss a beat, her gaze sparkling with mischief. “Oh, I’m sure he knows exactly who I���m talking about!”

“I really don’t know if I know her,” you reply, with the conviction of someone trying to dodge an unfair accusation.

Yujin laughs out loud, shaking her head. “Oh, come on. Everyone’s seen at least one of her videos. She’s practically a cultural landmark. Like... like watching The Godfather or something.”

“I’m not ‘everyone,’” you insist, trying to maintain some dignity.

But Eunbi and Yujin exchange glances and burst into a shared laugh, clearly amused at your expense. “Of course not,” Eunbi says, pretending an exaggerated innocence, while Yujin nods as if fully agreeing.

“Right,” Yujin says, with a wink. “You’re totally immune to that sort of thing, for sure.”

“Okay, okay, but does she only do videos or... anything else?” you ask, trying to keep your tone casual.

“Well,” Yujin begins, “She’s also an escort. And, well... they say her rates are higher than the national debt of a small country. But she’s worth every cent—at least, that’s what those who’ve paid say.”

Eunbi scrunches her nose, as if trying to imagine the price and eventually giving up on the math. “So, basically, she’s perfect. Like... the adult version of Barbie?”

“An adult Barbie mixed with the Mona Lisa and a dash of Cleopatra,” Yujin says, gesturing dramatically, as if her hands could illustrate such divinity. “But seriously, I loved chatting with her. Really. We met at a party in Dubai, it was an incredible night, I even got nervous when I saw her, but she was so sweet and patient with me that I almost felt like her close friend.”

Eunbi and you look at each other, sharing a mixture of disbelief and fascination.

“She sounds almost unreal,” you finally say, still trying to process the idea.

Yujin laughs, shaking her head. “She is. And the best part? She knows it. But unlike many, she doesn’t put on a show. She just... exists. And somehow, that’s more impressive than anything she could try to be.”

—

The apartment is bathed in the radiant light of early afternoon as you and Eunbi enter with Yujin, trying—unsuccessfully—to hide your nervousness under a casual façade. Yujin glances around, inspecting the space.

“Wow, what a cozy place,” she remarks. “Seems perfect for a young couple. But who knows, maybe you’ll, say, be able to expand things in the future, huh?”

Eunbi, smiling with a mixture of pride and discomfort, says, “Make yourself at home,” not quite sure what "at home" might mean for someone like Yujin.

“Oh, I will,” Yujin responds, her tone so suggestive that you and Eunbi exchange a shared, nervous glance, caught between laughter and cold sweats. Yujin then casts an investigative look around the room before dropping the question. “Can I see where you two film?”

“Of course!” Eunbi replies, excited. You both lead her down the hallway to Eunbi’s former room, still decorated with vibrant trinkets and stuffed animals. Eunbi explains with a shy smile, “Since we started dating, I moved into his room—it’s bigger. So this one became the studio.”

"You guys were living together before you were dating? That's wild!"

"We were actually roommates and best friends," Eunbi says.

"Oh, I get it! In that case, it's a really cute thing." Yujin examines the space with curiosity, nodding in approval. “Ah, the room I see in the videos,” she says, as if she’s stumbled upon the place where the Great Mystery unfolds. After a moment, she looks at Eunbi with a playful smile. “By the way, can I borrow one of your lingerie sets, princess?”

You blink, confused, and the question slips out before you can think: “Are… we filming now?”

Yujin raises an eyebrow and laughs, as if she’s dealing with a child asking why the sky is blue. “Yes, darling. I have a flight later for a podcast appearance,” she says, patient, as if this were a common part of anyone’s day.

You’re still processing the suddenness of it all when you manage to ask, “What podcast?”

“Sana’s podcast. You haven’t been on it yet, right?”

You and Eunbi look at each other, both trying to imagine the possibility, but Eunbi shakes her head, amused. “Not yet.”

“Oh, but I’ll make a recommendation,” Yujin replies with a wink, like a mischievous fairy godmother ready to pull a few invisible strings. “Sana is amazing. Hilarious, and she was one of the first to give us, adult creators, a place to speak, to give our opinions and combat insults. You guys should go. So many girls only got their break thanks to her support. She’s going to love you, I’m sure.”

Eunbi, now more excited than ever, responds, “Wow, it’d be amazing to do an episode with her.”

Yujin smiles like she’s just made a promise to fate itself. “I’ll make it happen,” she says, giving Eunbi a look. Then, with a casual gesture, she motions to you, as if giving a gentle hint.

“Now, sweetheart… could you give us a moment to get ready?” Yujin asks, more informing you than really asking, with a hint of gentle dismissal.

You feel your face warm, realizing this is your cue to step out. “Oh, sure. I… I’ll wait in the living room,” you reply, trying to seem more confident than you feel.

She closes the door with a cheerful “See you in a minute!” and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

—

Inside the bedroom-turned-improvised studio, Eunbi and Yujin glance at each other in the mirror, half-studying, half-laughing like two friends conspiring over some obscure secret—or in their case, a rather peculiar shoot. Eunbi gestures toward the closet with a kind of solemnity, inviting Yujin. “Go on, pick a lingerie set. There’s lots of colors. And styles,” she says, almost like she’s offering a valuable gem.

Yujin, without hesitation, slips off her bra and underwear, moving around the room with the confidence of someone, well, perfectly at ease with their own body. She picks up a blue lingerie set and holds it up, examining it with an almost scientific gaze. “Think it’ll look good?”

“It’ll look gorgeous,” Eunbi replies, already picking a pink set and undressing, letting her clothes drop casually to the floor. It’s funny how the situation feels both natural and tinged with a certain strangeness.

As she slides the lingerie on, Yujin glances at Eunbi from the corner of her eye. “You’re lucky, you know? Having a boyfriend who supports you in this kind of work… that’s rare.”

Eunbi nods, adjusting the strap of her bra. “He’s really supportive. He’s part of everything with me,” she says, smiling a little bashfully, which Yujin notices.

“A rare man,” Yujin remarks, looking at Eunbi for a moment, now that they’re both in just lingerie. “Most guys panic at the idea of their girlfriend doing this sort of thing.”

She pauses, her gaze quickly tracing over Eunbi. “By the way, let me just say—you look stunning like this, you know?”

Eunbi, surprised and a little shy, laughs and murmurs a “thank you,” adjusting her lingerie with a slight blush. Then, curious, she asks, “Have you ever dated anyone since you started creating adult content?”

Yujin lets out a sound that’s almost a laugh, tinged with a bit of irony. “I tried.I've met a few guys who seemed promising at first, but none of them were looking for a committed relationship. Not with me, at least. My last boyfriend broke up with me when I started filming porn videos. Preferred a life without, well, international popularity.”

“Oh…” Eunbi makes a sympathetic face. “And you were okay with that?”

“Better this way,” Yujin shrugs, almost indifferent. “These days, I sleep with lots of amazing guys and girls. Life goes on just fine, thanks.” She adjusts her lingerie, looking in the mirror with a critical yet satisfied gaze. “Oh, help me with the clasp back here?”

Eunbi steps closer to fix the clasp, still laughing at the comment, then asks with genuine curiosity, “Do you ever think about stopping one day?”

Yujin gives a conspiratorial wink. “When I’m a millionaire, absolutely.”

Eunbi raises her eyebrows. “Really? And is that close to happening?”

Yujin looks at her in the mirror, a smile spreading. “Closer than you’d think, darling.”

She finishes adjusting the lingerie and checks herself in the mirror, turning slightly to see how it fits. “So, how does it look?”

“Beautiful. Sensational. Sexy, even,” Eunbi replies, with a sincerity that’s almost playful.

The compliment comes back quickly: “And you look like a goddess, darling. God, I’d give anything to have those glorious breasts,” she sighs, with a dramatic touch of envy. “But, now, a serious question,” Yujin continues, looking directly at Eunbi. “Are you sure you’re not going to feel jealous during the filming?”

The question makes Eunbi give a nervous laugh, hesitating before answering. “No, no… it’s fine. We know it’s just work.”

But Yujin looks at her intently, as if she wants to be sure Eunbi really understands. “This is purely professional, Eunbi. He’s your boyfriend. Nothing’s going to change. When the camera’s off, everything goes back to normal, I promise.”

Eunbi sighs and admits, laughing a little. “Well… maybe part of me will feel a bit jealous, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Trust me, after the first time, you’ll get used to it,” she says, moving closer, looking at Eunbi with that same piercing gaze. Then, in a softer tone, she says, “You know what’ll help?”

“What?”

Yujin pauses for dramatic effect.

“Kiss me.”

Eunbi freezes, eyes wide as Yujin leans in slowly, a half-smile playing on her lips, savoring Eunbi’s surprise. “Relax, it’s just a kiss,” Yujin murmurs, her tone a mix of tease and tenderness. She waits for a response, but Eunbi just stays there, eyes fixed on Yujin’s lips, the gloss catching the light in a temptation too hard to resist.

Then, as if her body decides before her mind, Eunbi closes her eyes and lets herself be drawn in. Yujin’s lips touch hers softly, making her exhale as if the air suddenly got heavier. At first, it’s a tentative kiss, almost testing boundaries—a gentle brush, the taste of sweet strawberry filling Eunbi’s senses. But soon Yujin becomes firmer, tilting her head to deepen the kiss with a confidence only someone assured could manage.

Eunbi feels a hand slide slowly to her neck, fingers weaving into her hair, pulling her closer, and Yujin’s whole body aligns, pressing against her. “Breathe,” Yujin whispers against her lips, not pulling away, as if she’s guiding Eunbi to let go, to let control slip through her fingertips.

Eunbi releases a small sigh, something caught between nervousness and pure desire, her fingers trembling slightly as she holds Yujin by the waist, clutching there as if grounding herself. The taste of gloss, the soft scent of Yujin’s perfume, now so near, surround her, melding together and holding Eunbi captive, like a slow melody.

Yujin pulls away slowly, but not far, their faces still close enough for Eunbi to feel her warm breath. With that same mix of playful and affectionate smile, Yujin looks directly into Eunbi’s eyes, her fingers resting gently on the back of her neck. “See?” she murmurs, voice low and firm, almost like a secret. “The ice is broken now.”

Her thumb drifts to the corner of Eunbi’s mouth, where the gloss still glistens, brushing as if she’s wiping away the last trace of the kiss, and lets out a soft, satisfied chuckle. “No more tension, no more nerves. Now you know you can trust me.”

Eunbi just smiles back, heart racing, “I do trust you,” she replies, “and I’m ready to start.”

—

You’re stretched out on the couch, scrolling absentmindedly on your phone when a gentle voice breaks the quiet. You look up to find Eunbi and Yujin standing side by side, hands intertwined. They’re draped in fine lingerie that highlights each curve, every detail crafted to allure. Eunbi’s pink lace against Yujin’s cool blue creates a sight so captivating you’re left speechless.

Eunbi tilts her head with a small, teasing smile. “Well, we’re ready. Just waiting on you.” She winks.

Yujin leans closer, one brow raised, a grin on her lips. “Are you going to sit there all night or join us?” she teases, her tone light but authoritative. Turning to Eunbi, she wraps her arms around her neck, and they exchange a conspiratorial glance before laughing softly together.

You get up, trying to keep your cool as you follow them to the bedroom. Every detail set, an intimate little scene for just the three of you.

Inside the room, Yujin doesn’t waste a second. She watches you intently, her gaze that of a seasoned expert, and then commands, “Alright, just strip down.”

You hesitate, glancing at Eunbi for reassurance. She nods calmly, a soft encouragement. “Come on, babe. Just another video,” she murmurs, voice gentle but filled with affection.

One by one, you peel off each piece, stopping at your underwear. At this point, Yujin decides to break the mounting tension. She lets out a soft laugh, looks at Eunbi, and says, “Let’s just cut to the chase.”

Turning to you with a bold gleam in her eye, she says, “Excuse me, but I’m going to kiss your boyfriend.”

The air thickens, feeling both heavier and lighter, like some invisible barrier is about to come down. As it should. Yujin steps toward you, each movement filled with confidence, her eyes trailing over you, taking in every detail with a gleam that’s both professional and undeniably challenging.

She stops just inches away, her eyes glinting with intensity, a look that combines business with something raw and thrilling. “Are you ready, or do we need to spend all night convincing you?” Her head tilts, a smirk tugging at her lips, as she lifts a hand to your side, guiding it slowly to her waist.

Just a few steps away, Eunbi adjusts the camera on its tripod, trying to hide the flush in her cheeks as she focuses the lens, aligning the angle carefully. “Just so you know, I’m finding this hilarious,” she says with a smile, though her tone carries an undercurrent of affection and maybe a touch of possessiveness. She leans over to check the focus, her gaze briefly meeting yours before she looks back at the screen. “Better enjoy it… before I change my mind.” Her playful tone barely masks the blush spreading across her face.

Yujin chuckles, seeming to catch her drift. “Don’t worry, Eunbi—I’ll take good care of your boyfriend,” she says, her gaze never leaving yours. And without another word, she slides her hands to your neck, pulling you closer. Her lips meet yours, the kiss starting soft, giving you a moment to settle into the feeling, the sensation, before her fingers dive deeper, slipping along the nape of your neck, as though pulling you even closer.

Your hand moves almost on its own, resting on her waist, where the soft skin meets the lace. Your fingers drift up her back, and the kiss grows bolder, both of you falling into an easy rhythm. There’s a charged energy there, a delicate balance of nerves and a shared sense of release.

In one smooth movement, Yujin’s hand slides down your side to your waistband. She presses against the fabric, feeling the hardness beneath, a playful smile curling on her lips as she kisses you. She applies a bit more pressure, gauging your reaction. You feel warmth spread over every muscle, a pulse of nerves mixed with expectation.

“Oh, so this is how you respond,” she whispers, her lips brushing yours, voice barely more than a breath. Her hand tightens, confidence clear in her touch.

Eunbi, now finished setting up the camera (it's new, now your recordings will be in 4k), watches from a short distance, arms crossed, feigning impatience. “Alright, Yujin, I think that’s enough.”

Yujin steals one last kiss before pulling back, smirking. “Alright, Miss Eunbi, all done here.”

“Perfect,” Eunbi responds. “Now, boxers off, and sit down on the bed, babe. Let’s get started.”

Trying to look composed, you strip off your boxers and take a seat at the bed’s edge. Eunbi hands you the camera, which distracts your mind—focusing on capturing every moment makes it a bit easier.

Holding the equipment steady, you watch as Eunbi and Yujin kneel between your legs, each settling into position with a practiced balance of intimacy and poise. You adjust the camera, aiming to capture every detail as they lean in close. Through the lens, you see Yujin’s confident experience alongside Eunbi’s eager, intense sincerity.

“Alright, let’s begin,” you say, “One, two, three… rolling!”

Yujin moves first, her hand wrapping around your cock with steady ease, her tongue tracing slowly over every inch, savoring each part while her gaze locks onto yours with a playful glint. “Mmm, you taste so good,” she murmurs, tone teasing, confident.

Eunbi watches, her eyes tracing Yujin’s every move, soaking up each gesture and touch. When she can’t wait any longer, she leans in, pressing a soft kiss to the base, her gaze intense, filled with adoration and hunger, like she’s taking in every sensation, every detail.

"Like that, Eunbi, slow—make him feel every second," Yujin whispers, a subtle smile on her face, watching as Eunbi tries to match her pace. Eunbi gives a barely perceptible nod, determined yet completely surrendered, as if there were nowhere else in the world she'd rather be. She drags her tongue along the base while Yujin takes the tip, alternating pressure, surrounding you with an intensity that’s almost overwhelming.

"Are you enjoying this, love?" Eunbi asks, her voice soft, thick with desire. She meets your gaze, searching for the answer in your eyes. Her lips brush over your skin with a tenderness that contrasts with the heat of the moment, each kiss like a silent promise.

"More than you could imagine," you rasp, struggling to keep your focus on the camera.

Yujin laughs softly, pleased by the effect they both have on you. Without warning, she takes you deeper, her lips sliding firmly, rhythmically. Her tongue circles the tip, drawing slow, teasing loops before she pulls you in, creating a pressure that sends waves of tension up your spine. "I'm going to make you lose control, and Eunbi will help," she says, a teasing tone underlying her words, her eyes alight with purpose.

Driven by her own desire, Eunbi switches between soft kisses and playful licks, exploring every inch with quiet determination.

"Yes, just like that, but firmer," Yujin instructs, holding the base as Eunbi joins her, their faces close enough that their hair nearly tangles. The combination of Yujin's precise skill and Eunbi's gentle touch is mind-blowing.

They work in tandem, Yujin taking the head as Eunbi trails her tongue along the base, each motion coordinated, each touch a new peak of pleasure. At one point, Yujin lets a hand slip down to your balls, massaging with delicate care as her mouth moves with increased intensity. "Let’s get this cock dripping wet," Yujin whispers, her gaze never leaving yours, heat flooding your body.

Emboldened by the rhythm and intensity, Eunbi lowers further, kissing along your thighs, each touch warm and light, as though she’s claiming the space. "You’re so hot, baby," she murmurs, running her tongue over your balls, alternating licks and soft kisses, every motion like a declaration of her desire.

The camera catches every detail—the looks, the touches, the mouths moving in perfect sync as Yujin and Eunbi work together, drawing you closer to the edge. Yujin’s eyes hold that knowing, wicked gleam, while Eunbi, lost in her own admiration and passion, gains confidence with each passing second.

They switch off, Yujin licking her way up your length as Eunbi focuses on the head, each pouring all their attention into every touch. In one moment of pure synchronicity, they glance at each other, smiling, and begin sucking together, Yujin lower, Eunbi at the top, her tongue teasing with playful swirls.

"Look at him," Yujin whispers to Eunbi, fingers brushing along Eunbi’s thigh for encouragement. "Show your naughty boyfriend how much you want this."

Eunbi follows her lead, lifting her gaze to meet yours, her eyes warm and inviting. She holds you firmly, her mouth hot and soft around you, sending a flush through your body.

"Now let’s play with your tits, princess," Yujin suggests.

Eunbi pulls away from your cock, her pink lips gleaming with saliva. Keeping her eyes on you, she reaches back and, with a graceful, deliberate motion, unhooks her bra. The fabric slips away, baring her firm, full breasts, her nipples already hard. She smiles, confidence and desire radiating from her every move.

Yujin watches intently, her gaze hungry. "I think we’ll need a little extra help with this, don’t you?" she murmurs, smiling with intent. Leaning toward Eunbi, the two share a conspiratorial look before each one lets a thin line of saliva drip down onto Eunbi’s breasts, warming the already flushed skin.

Eunbi bites her lip, her body reacting, and Yujin slides her hands over Eunbi’s chest, spreading the moisture slowly, her fingers caressing and squeezing. "This will feel even better for you," she murmurs, looking over at the camera, her voice low and sultry.

Eunbi shifts closer, pressing her breasts softly around your cock. The way they are—the skin glistening with saliva, the hard, pink nipples, the slow, careful movements—is perfection. Yujin smiles at you, dimples showing, her confidence somehow heightening the intensity of the moment.

Eunbi presses her breasts tighter around you, surrounding you in her warm softness. She begins to move in a measured rhythm as Yujin helps guide her motions, both of them keeping their eyes on you, capturing every reaction.

"Do you like it like this, love?" Eunbi asks, her voice low, full of affection and lust. She quickens the pace, alternating between sultry glances your way and shared smiles with Yujin.

You can barely respond, caught up in the sight—the gentle, devoted touch of Eunbi contrasting with the predatory gleam in Yujin’s eyes as she takes in each detail, enjoying every moment.

Yujin catches the look on your face, a satisfied gleam in her eyes. "Oh, I think he’s loving it," she murmurs. Then she moves closer to Eunbi, licking her own lips before leaning in to kiss her.

Eunbi sighs against Yujin’s lips, her chest still pressed against you, her breasts soft and warm as she continues moving. "He loves watching us like this," Yujin whispers to Eunbi, a slow, wicked smile curving her lips. "Look how he’s reacting."

She turns her gaze back to you, eyes full of intent, and murmurs, "I love making you feel good, baby."

Yujin pulls Eunbi in for another kiss, deeper and more urgent. She whispers something in Eunbi’s ear, something you can’t hear but that makes Eunbi smile and press even closer, her energy insatiable.

Her hands grip tighter, intensifying the rhythm, each stroke a heated slide against your skin. Beside her, Yujin slides a hand under her own panties, barely containing her own need as she watches, fingers getting wet as she slides them into her pussy, her eyes fixed on the two of you.

"You look so damn good between her tits," Yujin purrs, a wicked smile on her lips. She pulls her hand from her panties, fingers shining, bringing them to her mouth, licking them clean while keeping her gaze locked on the scene before her. "My panties are soaked just watching," she murmurs, a laugh escaping as she bites her lip.

Spurred by Yujin’s words, Eunbi picks up the pace, her breasts squeezing tighter around you, her mouth teasing as her tongue flicks over your tip. Each time she moves down, she presses closer, feeling every throb. "God, this feels so good," you groan, "I'm so fucking turned on, babe."

Yujin lets out a moan of her own, fingers circling faster against herself. "Oh, Eunbi, you're making your boyfriend feel so good… just look at him," she taunts, licking her fingers again before slipping them back between her thighs, her wetness echoing as she loses herself to her need.

Seeing the look of heated anticipation in Yujin’s eyes, Eunbi leans in closer, pressing her breasts around you in a tighter, more intense rhythm, her mouth quirking into a teasing smile. "You want him to fuck that wet little pussy of yours, don’t you, Yujin?" she murmurs, voice low and provocative.

Yujin moans, biting her lip, her fingers digging into her own skin. "Yes… I want him. I want to feel him… all the way inside me," she whispers, her voice trembling with pure need, her eyes ravenous as they fix on you.

Eunbi chuckles softly, not missing a beat as she continues, pressing you even more firmly as she commands, "Then beg, Yujin! Beg my boyfriend, ask him to fuck you just like you want, you little slut." Her voice rings with a possessive edge that only intensifies her allure.

Yujin doesn’t hesitate. She moans louder, fingers sinking deeper as her eyes meet yours, burning with desire. "Please, baby… fuck me," she pleads, voice nearly a whimper, her face an open invitation. "I need that thick, hard cock stretching me, filling me. Please, make me yours. I want every inch of you," she begs, her words broken by gasps as she keeps touching herself, her hips moving in rhythm, fully surrendered to you.

Watching them, the desire inside you grows with each word, each desperate movement. "I'm going to give you exactly what you want, Yujin," you murmur, voice promising, sending a shiver through her. "I'm gonna wreck that pussy."

“Then do it, baby,” Eunbi urges, pulling her breasts away from your cock. “Ruin this little slut’s pussy.”

The tension in the room reaches a boiling point.

Yujin slips off her soaked panties, kicking them aside as she lies back, legs open, body utterly exposed and eager. Her eyes glint with anticipation as you position yourself between her thighs. Holding your cock firmly, you tease her entrance, just enough to feel her warmth but without fully entering. That light touch alone makes Yujin moan, her body arching, begging silently.

She glances over to Eunbi, eyes playful. “And you? Just going to stand there?” She smiles, taunting, face pure lust. “I want you here, Eunbi... want to feel you on my tongue.”

Eunbi chuckles, her laugh sultry and wicked, and without hesitation, she slips off her own panties, moving to Yujin. Smiling, she positions herself over Yujin's face, thighs spread, lowering herself just enough so Yujin can taste her as she wants. “Then make it good, Yujin,” Eunbi orders, voice low and powerful. “I want to feel every lick.”

Yujin doesn’t need another word. Gripping Eunbi's thighs, she pulls her closer, her tongue diving eagerly between her folds, sucking with a nearly desperate intensity, her muffled moans vibrating against Eunbi's body.

Meanwhile, you press a little harder against Yujin's entrance, still teasing, letting her feel each inch but still not giving in. She arches, pressing herself up to meet you, pleading silently. “Please… put it in,” she whispers, voice dripping with need as her mouth never leaves Eunbi, each lick growing more ravenous.

With a knowing smirk, you oblige.

Yujin writhes beneath you, adjusting her hips to take you fully. “Oh god! Oh- Fuck yes! This is what I wanted!” she gasps, her voice thick with desire.

Eunbi, perched over her, grips her own breasts, fingers teasing her sensitive nipples. “Yes, Yujin… keep eating me out,” she moans, voice trembling as Yujin's tongue circles, exploring every part, making Eunbi shiver on top of her. She meets your gaze, cheeks flushed, and grins wickedly. “You like watching Yujin eat me out while you fuck her, don’t you?”

“Yeah… fuck, I love it, you’re both so fucking hot,” you breathe, voice barely more than a whisper.

Yujin squirms under Eunbi’s weight, moaning into her wet pussy, the sound muffled but enough to stoke your own arousal. “Harder,” Yujin murmurs between licks, “make me feel every inch, don’t stop… I want you to fuck this tight little pussy deep.”

You pick up the pace, your hips slamming against her with more force, feeling the pressure building around you. One hand finds Yujin's clit, rubbing in slow circles, and she bucks against you, a louder moan escaping her.

Eunbi watches, biting her lip, her body tensing as Yujin devours her. “Yes, baby… keep going, fuck her deeper,” she encourages, grinding down, forcing Yujin’s mouth to work harder.

Your hand moves expertly, fingers tracing circles over Yujin’s clit while you thrust, feeling each tight pulse around your cock. With each thrust, her body arches, her face buried between Eunbi’s thighs, making her moan louder with each lick, every touch more intense.

Eunbi smiles at you, a mix of pleasure and taunt, biting her lower lip. “Go on, babe… fuck her good,” she whispers between moans, “I want to hear her scream for you.” Her words push you over, and you increase your rhythm, pounding her, Yujin’s body responding to each deep stroke. Her legs quiver, fingers gripping the sheets, nails digging in as her mouth stays busy between Eunbi’s legs.

Yujin, overwhelmed by the pleasure, lets out muffled moans, each sound vibrating against Eunbi, making her grind down, moaning even louder. “Yes… don’t stop, don’t stop,” Yujin pants, her voice broken with pleasure as her body tightens around you, breath coming in gasps.

Eunbi looks at you, her voice soft, almost a whisper, full of encouragement. “That’s it, babe… keep going… give her everything! Make her come, make her feel your cock in every inch of her,” she teases, her eyes bright as she presses down harder on Yujin’s mouth, lost in the sensation of her tongue.

You lean forward, increasing the pressure on Yujin's clit as you thrust deeper, your fingers moving faster, more insistent, the camera shaking in your other hand (you’ll thank the image stabilizer later). Yujin’s moans grow frantic, her body arching again, every muscle tense. “Yes… I’m gonna come…” she cries, her voice breaking as her body shudders in climax, while Eunbi lets out a cry of her own, lost in the rhythm of Yujin’s tongue.

Yujin’s entire body shakes, muscles tight as she surrenders completely, her voice hoarse, almost shouting. “Ah… don’t… don’t stop… it’s so good, so… ahhh, yes! Harder… more… I…!”

Your fingers press down harder on her clit, stroking in time with each thrust as you sink deeper, feeling every pulse of her tight little pussy. Yujin bites her lip, a choked scream escaping as her hands grip the sheets, eyes squeezing shut, lost in ecstasy. “Oh… my… god… I’m… ahhh, I’m coming, don’t stop, please!”

Eunbi, still perched over Yujin, watches, eyes bright with arousal, her own moans heightening as she sees Yujin’s state. She urges you on, her voice soft but fervent. “Yes, babe! Make this slut come on your cock… make her lose control!”

Then, Yujin’s body seizes, a sharp cry tearing from her throat as she squirts over your thighs and onto the sheets. “Ahhhh! Yes… yes… ahhh! I’m- Oh God! Mmm, I’m coming…!” Yujin practically sobs, her body shaking as wave after wave of pleasure ripples through her, surrendering fully to the overwhelming intensity.

Eunbi lifts herself, lips parted, watching Yujin with awe. “My god, Yujin… look what he’s done to you,” she murmurs, barely holding back her own desire.

Still flushed and breathing heavily, Yujin laughs quietly, her cheeks pink, eyes half-lidded as she looks up at you, body still tingling from the aftermath. “Fuck… that cock… made me come so good,” she whispers with a smile, gaze locked on you.

Eunbi, eyes alight with a mix of possessiveness and lust, gives you a provocative smile, biting her lower lip. “So… now you’re going to fuck your girlfriend, aren’t you?” Her voice is laced with challenge and excitement. She positions herself at the edge of the bed, on all fours, ass lifted toward you, offering you the perfect view, while Yujin moves up, legs spread wide in front of your girlfriend.

With a mischievous glint, she spreads her wet folds with her fingers, beckoning Eunbi’s face closer. “Come, Eunbi… lick me while he fucks you,” she whispers, her hand gripping Eunbi’s hair, guiding her closer. “Yes, give me that tongue… show me how well you can eat pussy,” Yujin continues, moaning as Eunbi’s mouth begins to work on her.

Standing behind, you position your cock and slide slowly into Eunbi, feeling her hot, tight walls surround you. A groan escapes your lips as you sink deeper into her, each inch pulling you in. “Fuck, Eunbi… you’re so wet… so good,” you whisper, lost in the intense pleasure.

Eunbi, gasping between licks on Yujin, pants. “Yes, babe… fuck me… deeper… I want to feel you filling me.” She moves back against you, hips circling, each thrust pulling you in further, her ass trembling with each motion, every deep stroke drawing fresh moans from her.

Yujin, delirious from the feel of Eunbi’s tongue against her dripping cunt, grabs her hair, pulling just a little to savor every lick even deeper. “Ahhh, Eunbi, just like that… keep going… Mmm, you're such a slut!” she breathes, her words slipping between moans, eyes squeezed shut as each brush of that soft, wet tongue over her sensitive folds drives her wild.

The tension surges as you thrust deeper, your hands gripping Eunbi’s hips tightly, each push pulling louder, needier sounds from her. “Fuck… so tight,” you murmur, feeling her wetness, her warmth, tightening around every inch as you plunge in. Eunbi can barely keep up as she sucks Yujin, her own body trembling, pressing back against you, every move inviting you to go harder, deeper.

Yujin watches, her lips parted, a throaty moan escaping as she locks eyes with the sight of you taking your girlfriend. “Mmm, fuck,” she chuckles between moans, “You two are so fucking hot!”

Your grip on Eunbi’s waist tightens, her slick cunt clenching around you, and you lean close to her ear. “I’m taking that sweet ass next, babe.” She shivers, biting her lip, and breathes a shaky response. “Yeah, do it… fuck my ass… I want it,” she whimpers, her voice thick with excitement and anticipation.

You guide yourself, pressing the head of your cock slowly against her tight little opening, watching her stretch to take you in. Bit by bit, you slide forward, filling her.

“Ahhh… so tight,” you murmur, your breaths ragged as you film every inch with the new camera, capturing in 4K the way her snug ass opens around you. Eunbi lets out a loud moan, her head thrown back. “Yes, take it… let him wreck that ass,” Yujin whispers to her, reaching down to touch herself as she watches.

“Yes… yes, fuck my ass… fill me, go deeper…,” Eunbi moans, her voice quivering, her whole body alight as you sink in.

Holding her hip firmly, you draw her back, your cock fitting fully inside her tight hole, feeling each part of her yielding to your slow, deliberate rhythm. She lets out a long, low groan, head thrown back, face twisted in a blend of pain and pleasure as she adjusts to the intense stretch.

“Ohh, yeah… keep going… fill me up, I can take it,” she moans, eyes half-lidded, biting her lip, face flushed in pure ecstasy. Each thrust is a new adjustment, feeling her intense tightness, each slide bringing a fresh wave of sensation. “You love this, don’t you, you little slut?” you taunt, voice gravelly, pushing deeper.

Eunbi squirms, her body trembling with each thrust. “Mmm, Yes! Fuck, I love feeling you wreck me… Keep using me, babe, keep- Oh! Like that, baby! Yeah!” she responds, voice shaky, cut off by erratic moans, completely surrendered. With each thrust, the wet, filthy sounds fill the room, bodies colliding in raw, unrestrained passion.

Yujin, still watching close by, runs a hand down her own dripping pussy, eyes fixed on the scene, filled with lust. “God, look at her… you’re destroying her ass,” she whispers, her voice loaded with excitement.

Your firm grip on Eunbi’s hips pulls her back, every inch sinking deep into her tight little ass, feeling her muscles surrender to the slow, deliberate rhythm. She lets out a long, low moan, her head thrown back, her face mixing pain and pleasure as she adjusts to the intense stretch.

"Fuck, babe, watching you eat her pussy gets me so fucking hot," you growl, voice rough, thrusting even deeper. Your hand rises, landing a hard slap on her ass.

“Ow, babe! Yes, slap me! Don’t stop, wreck my little ass, fuck me good!”

Eunbi's moans fill the room, blending with the sound of your hips colliding with her body. Each movement is met with a sharp smack that leaves her skin tingling. “Ahhh, harder… fuck, go deeper… break me,” she begs, her voice hoarse, totally lost in the intense pleasure as you keep pounding, every slap drawing a new moan, louder and dripping with lust.

Yujin, lying on the bed with her legs spread, holds Eunbi’s face firmly, guiding her back to keep licking. “You two are going to make me cum just watching… keep sucking, baby… Mmm, yeah! Just like that! I’m so close, don’t stop!” Yujin moans, her voice trembling as her body arches, writhing with pleasure under Eunbi’s relentless tongue work. Eunbi’s mouth moves faster, sucking with fervor.

“Yeah, Yujin, cum all over her mouth… let my girl taste you,” you say, watching the wild scene unfolding, slowing your thrusts to let Eunbi focus on making Yujin climax. Your girlfriend responds with a muffled moan, intensifying her movements, eyes shut tight in pure concentration, determined to bring Yujin to the edge.

Eunbi feels Yujin’s body tense under her tongue, each shudder racing through her like a live current, her moans rising until they turn into raw, guttural cries. “Ahhh… yes, Eunbi… right there… make me cum, don’t stop!” Yujin practically screams, her nails digging into the sheets, back arching, utterly lost in the moment. Her breaths come fast, each gasp a wave, as Eunbi continues licking with unwavering devotion, her tongue tracing and exploring every wet, trembling inch.

Eunbi, lips and mouth fully devoted to Yujin’s pleasure, mutters through a mouth full of desire, “Cum for me, you dirty slut.” She grips Yujin’s thighs, pulling her closer, not letting any motion escape, savoring every drop. Yujin, utterly spent, sinks her head into the pillows, moaning as the waves of an overwhelming orgasm crash over her.

“Fuck, Eunbi… ahhhh… I’m cumming… cumming in your mouth…!” Yujin gasps, lost in breathless moans and broken cries.

Eunbi’s tongue laps eagerly, drinking in every drop of the hot release that spills from Yujin. She swallows it all, low moans vibrating as she savors the rich taste. With her face still glistening, Eunbi leans back, enough to release a heavy sigh, feeling you sliding your cock in and out, slow and deliberate. “Ahh… I’m close too… almost there,” she whispers, voice thick with need. Yujin, still basking in the glow, laughs softly, a wicked gleam in her eye, as she slowly rises, hand reaching out to take the camera from you with a playful grin. “Let me handle this now… it’s time to make this sexy girl lose it.”

You pull slowly out of Eunbi’s ass, watching her shiver from the sudden emptiness. Now with the camera in Yujin’s hands, the heat in the room rises even more. “I’m capturing everything from this angle… from below, catching every detail.” She asks Eunbi to stand up, guiding you both to place a leg on the bed, opening up to the camera’s raw, unfiltered view.

The two of you follow, adjusting your legs as Yujin instructed, exposing your bodies fully to the camera’s keen eye. Breathing heavily, Eunbi steadies herself, half-closed eyes watching as you position yourself behind her, ready to continue. Yujin kneels just beneath her, angling the camera from the floor so it perfectly captures your cock lined up to press back into Eunbi’s ass, her face already anticipating the pleasure. “Go on, honey… I want to see you ruin her ass.” Yujin murmurs, her voice thick with desire.

With a firm grip on Eunbi’s hips, you press against her tight entrance once more, pushing slowly until you’re fully inside. Eunbi cries out, her head tilting back as Yujin looks up, licking her lips. “That’s it, fill her up… I want to hear her moaning for you.” As the camera rolls, Yujin leans closer to Eunbi’s wet pussy, diving in hungrily, tongue exploring every part while the lens captures every second in vivid detail.

You clutch Eunbi’s hips tightly, thrusting deep into her tight ass, each stroke pulling raw, almost pleading moans from her. “This is what you want, isn’t it? To be fucked on every side like a dirty little slut,” you whisper, watching her face twist in pleasure, that wild glint in her eyes.

“Mmm, yes… yes!” Eunbi cries, barely able to form words as Yujin, still on her knees between Eunbi’s parted thighs, eats her out with hungry intent, focusing especially on her swollen, sensitive clit, licking and pulsing rapidly. “You love this, don’t you?” Yujin murmurs against her wet skin, voice tinged with mischief. “Having your man destroy your ass while I lick your wet pussy!”

“Mmm, Yeah! I love this so much, I feel so slutty.… don’t stop… fuck my ass harder, baby!” Eunbi begs, clutching her own breasts, every word punctuated by broken moans, Yujin’s fingers digging into her thighs, holding them wide open. You pick up speed, thrusting deeper, feeling her body tighten, her ass squeezing around your big cock as she surrenders completely, every inch of her body pulsing with ecstasy.

“She’s almost there, honey,” Yujin says, looking up at you with a devilish gleam in her eyes. “Make her scream, baby, make sure she knows who’s in charge.”

Eunbi writhes, half-closed eyes and face fully given over to pleasure, as you pound into her tight ass harder with each thrust. Her body quivers with each plunge, tense muscles, guttural moans spilling from her lips. Yujin, eyes fixed on Eunbi’s delirious expression, slips two fingers deep into her creamy pussy, moving with steady, firm thrusts, filling the room with the obscene, wet sounds of her every movement.

“Ah… yes… yes!” Eunbi nearly screams, the sound choked by your relentless pace. Yujin leans down again, mouth capturing her sensitive clit, making a lewd sucking sound, her fingers sliding in and out of that creamy, soaking pussy, her hand slick with the hot juices flowing in response. Eunbi’s body arches, utterly surrendered to both of you, every nerve alive with intense, violent pleasure.

Then suddenly, she can’t hold back—the climax hits her like a tidal wave. Eunbi’s eyes roll back, seized by an orgasm that takes control of her, body twisting, clenching in spasms as she cries out, a release that nearly takes her breath away. Her pussy tightens hard around Yujin’s fingers, releasing waves of hot juice as her ass contracts around your cock, like she’s trying to keep you inside, each pulsing contraction showing just how intensely she feels it.

“That’s it, baby… cum for us,” you murmur, Yujin’s fingers still working quickly, every motion drawing more aftershocks until Eunbi nearly collapses, trembling uncontrollably.

You hold Eunbi close against you, feeling each spasm slowly easing, her soft tremors still rippling through her body as the final waves of her orgasm fade. Her sweaty, flushed face rests on your shoulder, eyes closed, a look of pure satisfaction on her lips as she feels you slipping out of her, inch by inch.

Yujin rises slowly, her gaze smoldering as she looks at both of you, her mouth still glistening with Eunbi's essence. She finally unhooks her bra, tossing it aside, and without a word, pulls you in for a deep kiss. Her tongue slides into your mouth, unashamedly sharing the salty, tangy taste of your girlfriend’s pussy, still hot on her lips. It's a slow, wet kiss, where she delights in teasing you, her mouth moving with a firmness that leaves you tense, craving more.

Eunbi, still catching her breath, practically purrs with desire, her half-lidded eyes watching the two of you devour each other. “I want some too,” she murmurs, her voice husky, almost a moan. Yujin smiles against your lips, then pulls Eunbi close, bringing the three of you together in a kiss dripping with lust.

Your tongues meet, sliding against each other in a hot, chaotic frenzy, the taste of Eunbi mingling between you all. The three of you breathe harder, each of you more ravenous than the last, devouring one another with no reservations. Yujin whispers something between kisses, her voice a mischievous murmur. “You two drive me crazy... so delicious,” she says, her hand slipping to the nape of Eunbi’s neck, holding her firmly as she deepens the kiss, tongues tangling and teasing with each motion.

Eunbi moans softly against both your mouths, eyes closed, her fingers tracing along your thigh, slowly rising, each touch light and tempting. “You and her made me cum so good, I’ve never felt anything like that before,” she whispers, her face so close you feel the heat of her words. “But now, I want to see you cum for us…”

Yujin joins her, “Yes, baby, cover our faces with that hot cum.” The perverted tone in her voice only intensifies the heat pooling in your body.

“If that’s what you want, then both of you, get on your knees.”

Without hesitation, they sink down slowly, their eyes locked on yours, each movement a show of submission and desire. Eunbi kneels on your right, Yujin to your left, the two of them exchanging knowing looks and smiling, as if they already know what’s coming. Both of their faces glow with anticipation, mouths slightly parted, hungry gazes that don’t waver for a second.

You lean down, picking up the camera and angling it to capture every detail from above. The image on the screen shows Eunbi and Yujin looking up, lascivious smiles on their lips, eyes alight with excitement as they wait eagerly. “Look at you two,” you murmur, your voice thick with admiration and provocation. “My girls, so beautiful and submissive, ready to take my load.”

Yujin starts first, gripping firmly as her tongue slides over the tip, already slick with pre-cum. “Mmm... love your taste,” she murmurs, before opening her mouth and taking in the head, sucking slowly, feeling you throb against her tongue.

Eunbi watches, biting her lip, and soon joins in, leaning in to press soft kisses along the base while her hands caress your thighs and stomach, nails skimming your skin, leaving a trail of shivers. “Give us that hot load, baby,” she whispers with a voice full of desire, before licking slowly from the base to the middle of your shaft, leaving a wet trail as her eyes meet yours.

They take turns as if rehearsed, Yujin licking the frenulum with precision that makes you moan low, the tip of her tongue making slow, firm circles. Eunbi kisses along the length, making every inch wet and slick, creating a mix of warmth and moisture that leaves you harder than ever. “It’s so big… feels so good in my mouth,” she says, her hands stroking you as she looks up, that naughty smile on her face.

Yujin pulls Eunbi closer and murmurs, “Let’s show him how well we take care of him…” Together, they begin running their tongues along the length of your cock, one on each side, meeting at the tip, exchanging a glance before diving back in, Yujin sucking the head while Eunbi gently sucks on your balls, her lips wrapping around them softly, alternating between kisses and gentle sucks.

“You’re both going to make me cum like this…” you groan, unable to hold back the rising pleasure. Yujin looks up, her lips still wrapped around you, and mutters in a husky voice, “Then cum… we want every drop…”

They both intensify, Eunbi now holding the base firmly while Yujin begins to stroke you.

You feel control slipping away and warn, “I’m close…,” your voice hoarse, each second bringing you closer to the edge. Yujin keeps sucking the tip, her lips pressing against the frenulum with calculated precision.

The pleasure builds, your whole body tense as Yujin and Eunbi wait, kneeling and ravenous, their beautiful faces filled with anticipation. Yujin’s grip tightens, her hand moving faster and firmer as she watches you, her gaze fixed on your face, studying every reaction with visible satisfaction. “That’s it, keep going... let us feel everything,” she whispers, and increases the rhythm, sliding her hand with steady, relentless strokes, pushing you over the limit.

Eunbi watches each moment, licking her lips and sharing a provocative look with Yujin. “Go ahead, baby, don’t hold back,” she murmurs, her voice soft but urgent, her fingers moving slowly over your balls, pressing lightly, matching the pace of Yujin’s strokes, both of them fully focused on taking you to the peak.

Feeling the imminent release, you give a low warning, “I’m... I’m gonna cum…” They both smile, faces eager and hungry, leaning in closer, offering their faces as canvases ready to receive every drop. The first spurt erupts powerfully, thick and hot, hitting Yujin squarely, dribbling down her cheek to her parted lips. She moans low, an expression of absolute pleasure as the cum slides down, licking the edge of her lips, savoring it slowly,”Mmm, so fucking good!” she sighs, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Cum more, baby, please!”

The second spurt lands on Eunbi, splashing across her forehead and dripping down her face. She moans loudly, closing her eyes and leaning forward for more, letting the cum glide down her skin with a satisfied smile. “God... you came so much, baby,” she murmurs, licking her upper lip, tasting your release.

You’re not done yet, the accumulated pleasure so intense that the third burst shoots out forcefully, landing right between the two of them. They look at each other, faces messy and glistening with your cum, eyes sparking with desire as each lets her tongue slide slowly, teasingly, toward the spot where the last drop fell. You hold the camera steady, capturing every detail: the hungry gaze they share, the tips of their tongues meeting right in the center of that thick, warm mixture.

Yujin is the first to lean in, her tongue moving slowly across Eunbi’s cheek, licking a trail of your cum dripping down her face, savoring every inch with deliberate care. “Mmm, so good… hot and thick, just like I imagined,” she whispers, looking at you with a wicked smile before turning back to Eunbi.

Eunbi lets out a low moan, leaning in toward Yujin, her tongue finding drops at the corner of her friend’s mouth, and then her tongue slides a little further, sucking Yujin's chin, where there is a good portion of your cum accumulated. “Your cum tastes so good, baby,” Eunbi murmurs.

With the camera close, you capture the moment they start rubbing their tongues against each other, every movement intense, almost primal. Yujin chuckles softly, her hand caressing Eunbi’s face as she pulls her closer, lifting her own face slightly to spit onto Eunbi’s tongue, who receives it without hesitation. Yujin’s own tongue slides into Eunbi’s mouth with torturous slowness, mixing more of your cum with the taste of each other, low sounds of satisfaction echoing through the room.

Their mouths meet in a final, deep, wet, filthy kiss, licking and sucking everything away. The camera captures the final image: both of them with faces painted in your cum, eyes shining, wicked and satisfied.

You bring the camera closer, capturing every detail of their faces, smeared and glistening with the remnants of your pleasure. With a satisfied smile, you murmur, “Fuck, you two look absolutely gorgeous like this, my perfect cumsluts…” They look at each other and burst into laughter, a sweet, shared laugh, with that glint of someone who’s gone all the way and loved every second of it.

Yujin, wiping a last drop off Eunbi’s brow with her thumb, looks straight into the camera and, with a playful grin, asks, “So… did you enjoy this delicious experience? Was it worth it?”

You smile, nodding as the camera remains focused on their expressions. “It was perfect. Better than I could have imagined.” Eunbi, still catching her breath with cheeks flushed, admits with a satisfied sigh, “I… had no idea it would feel this good. You two… it was indescribable.”

Yujin wraps an arm around Eunbi and says warmly, “I knew you’d love it! Thank you for trusting me and diving in. You were both incredible.”

“Now… how about a little farewell for our audience?” you suggest, your tone playful. The two exchange a glance, and without hesitation, they press their cheeks together, bringing their hands up in a cute little wave, blowing kisses toward the camera. “Thank you for watching… see you next time!” they say in unison, an adorable tone that contrasts with what just happened, laughing softly as they say goodbye with their faces close, sharing light, carefree giggles.

You capture the final frame—two beautiful women, utterly relaxed, eyes still sparkling with excitement, completely caught up in the moment. With a final sigh, you end the recording, knowing you're one lucky fucking man.

—

You step out of the shower feeling like a conqueror of the world—or at least of your own little, unexpected corner of it. The coolness of the water still seems to dance over your skin, every muscle relaxed, every thought light, as if all the effort of the day had evaporated away. You throw on a T-shirt and loose pants and head into the living room, where the stars of the day—Eunbi and Yujin—are already settled in, looking comfortable, like veterans of many such adventures (and maybe, in Yujin’s case, that’s not far from the truth).

Eunbi is curled up in a hoodie three sizes too big, looking perfectly cozy, while Yujin’s wrapped in one of Eunbi’s borrowed robes, savoring a generous spoonful of ice cream.

“So, how are you two feeling?” you ask, the excitement in your voice almost dancing by itself.

The two exchange a knowing smile. “Relaxed,” Eunbi answers with a soft smile, her eyes still sparkling.

“Alive,” Yujin adds, pausing only to take another spoonful of ice cream. Then she turns to Eunbi with a casual look and a curious smile. “And the jealousy, honey? How’d you hold up?”

Eunbi blushes, but she doesn’t look away, accepting the question as a challenge. “You know… at first, yeah. It was hard seeing him… connecting with someone else. But as I watched how much he was enjoying it… I don’t know, I think I started enjoying it, too.”

Yujin laughs softly, clearly pleased. “Now that’s the spirit. And can I just say? For your first time with a girl, you were amazing.” She regards Eunbi with playful admiration. “And I’m not just talking about technique, you know? It was more… your enthusiasm.”

Eunbi blushes even more but doesn’t lose her smile. “Well… you made it easy.”

Yujin turns to you with that look of someone sharing the world’s most obvious secret, adding, “And you… I have to say, those guys who seem quiet and reserved… they always end up being the best. Must be something to do with… attention to detail.”

You chuckle awkwardly, trying to hide the satisfaction that still shows. “Look, I never… really imagined I’d be… with two incredible women like this.” You try, but words don’t seem to be enough.

“Oh, and getting paid for it, no less! How do you manage it?”

“The money and the adventures are great,” you begin, feeling a sudden inspiration, “but seeing my girl happy is what really matters to me. I’m just in this for her, and for as far as she wants to go.”

Yujin gives a playful look between you and Eunbi. “See? You two have something special. Most couples wouldn’t even consider this, but you? You’re here, having fun, creating intimate and unique memories, just embracing it all. No bullshit.”

Eunbi, still smiling with a mix of pride and tenderness, sighs. “Yeah… but honestly? I think what makes it work is that we… talk. Like, really talk.”

“Yes,” Yujin adds, “that’s rarer than it sounds. And don’t get me wrong, sometimes just the… physical part is great, you know? But having someone who understands and supports you? That’s the hard part to find.” She gives a soft, almost sentimental smile before diving back into her ice cream as if it were the last of its kind.

“So, is it time for your podcast with Sana now?” Eunbi asks.

Yujin nods eagerly. “Yep, straight from a hot session with you two to the spotlight.”

You laugh lightly. “Can’t believe we have a celebrity in our apartment. How do you handle all these commitments?”

She leans in with an exaggerated expression of importance, pretending to adjust an invisible crown. “Oh, darlings, you’re in the presence of a businesswoman. Important, in-demand, and… completely devoted to this fantastic ice cream!”

Eunbi smiles, her eyes shining with admiration. “I’m going to watch the episode! Bet you’ll steal the show!”

“You… err… You two are just so sweet, you know?” Yujin murmurs, but her voice breaks, a sudden, unexpected emotion making her words stumble. Tears start forming silently in her eyes as she tries, comically, to keep devouring the ice cream as if nothing’s happening. She laughs, a clumsy sob escaping as tears fall without ceremony. “Sorry, it’s just… you know, it’s so good. This ice cream… is emotionally very intense, I guess. It just caught me off guard.”

Eunbi, a bit alarmed, asks softly, “Yujin, are you okay?”

“Of course!” Yujin laughs again, still mixing her shaky voice with humor to brush it off. “It’s just… it’s like everything hit me all at once, you know? Just… tired. But nothing serious.” She wipes her tears with the back of her hand, smiling. “It’s not depression or anything, okay? Just a bit of burnout. Something light. Normal.”

You watch the tension unwind from her face, layer by layer, and feel something more than curiosity—real concern, that uncomfortable feeling of seeing someone who seemed unbreakable finally give way. You sit next to her, wrapping an arm around her with almost reverent care.

“Yujin,” you say, your voice low and steady. “If you need anything, anything at all…”

Yujin looks up, a little surprised, then smiles. It’s almost a painful smile, one that won’t quite admit that maybe, just maybe, she really does need that offer of help. She shakes her head. “No, really, you two are sweethearts. It’s just… you know, sometimes it’s all a bit too much. And then I forget. Forget to breathe. Forget to… I don’t know… take care of myself a little.”

Eunbi watches her closely, as if trying to decipher every word, every nuance. “It’s okay, you know? If you want to cancel the podcast… Sana will understand. It’s just one episode.”

Yujin takes a deep breath and shakes her head, this time with a determined look. “Oh, no… Sana is… Sana is one of the good ones. I want to go. It’ll be fun, I just need a little… I don’t know, pep talk, maybe?” She gives a short laugh, but sadness lingers there, lurking, and her hand still trembles slightly as she sets her ice cream bowl on the coffee table.

Eunbi, however, doesn’t give up. She holds Yujin’s hand between hers, firm and warm, grounding her, and says with a soft but resolute voice, “Yujin, no matter what happens… we’re here. For anything you need, really.”

For the first time, Yujin looks at you both without any of her usual masks, and you see a glimmer of something vulnerable, almost fragile. She opens her mouth, and for a moment, you think she might say something heavy, something real. But instead, she lets out a dry, melancholy laugh.

“Look at me,” she says, her voice trembling slightly. “Here I am, getting all emotional, babbling a bunch of nonsense. God, I can be so ridiculous sometimes! But now that's enough, no more crying here! And I'm sorry about this, guys."

She gives you and Eunbi a look full of tenderness, as if she wants to capture this moment, this presence, this support that maybe, she hadn’t expected. She jokes, her voice still a bit shaky: “You know what? What if the three of us just formed a throuple, huh? A modern fairytale, all ours.”

You all laugh, the tension finally melting away. She wipes the tears from her eyes, standing up with a renewed energy. “Just kidding, of course. You two are wonderful together. If I joined this story, I’d probably just ruin the magic.” She shrugs, adjusting her borrowed robe. “Besides, I like having the bed all to myself. You know, no fighting over the blanket.”

—

Later, in the dark bedroom, you're completely out, already dreaming about absurdly nonsensical things. But Eunbi is nowhere near sleep. She’s lying there, shifting restlessly, as if waiting for you to wake up and ask what's wrong; finally, she loses patience and nudges your shoulder. Once, twice, three times, until you make some indistinct noise halfway between a snore and a "huh?"

“Are you awake, babe?” she asks, like the repeated pokes hadn’t already given her the answer.

“Now I am,” you mumble, still keeping your eyes closed. “Not like I wanted to sleep or anything.”

“Stop being silly,” she says, but her voice is soft, almost hesitant. There’s something in it that makes you crack one eye open. “I’m worried about Yujin.”

You turn to look at her, blinking in the dark to focus. “Hmm, Yujin? The same Yujin who posted stories just a few hours ago, smiling on the plane? The same Yujin who left our apartment on the phone about a sponsorship offer from a... vibrator brand?”

Eunbi sighs. “Yes, I know. But still… that doesn’t mean she’s actually okay.”

You let out a tired sigh, remembering how Yujin was—laughing, having fun, brimming with an energy that seemed unbreakable. Until, of course, she randomly started crying. “Yeah, that was… weird. But you’ve done that too, you know? I’ve seen you start crying out of nowhere sometimes.”

“That’s when I’m on my period, you dummy,” she mutters, resting a light but ‘threatening’ hand on your shoulder and giving you a gentle smack. “Totally different.”

You laugh, pulling her a little closer. “Alright, alright. But seriously, babe, Yujin’s an adult, you know? I’m sure this isn’t the first time she’s had a moment like that.”

“I know, but… should I have insisted that she rest?”

“You did more than enough,” you say softly. “She knows we were there for her. And I’m sure she’s grateful for that, you know? Just because she projects that ‘I’m indestructible’ vibe doesn’t mean she doesn’t appreciate the support. If she needs anything, she’ll text you or some other friend. She’s fine, don’t worry.”

Eunbi sighs again, but there’s a bit more ease in it this time. “Maybe you’re right…”

“Of course I am,” you say, pulling her in even closer. “And besides, we’re gonna see her again, remember? We’re gonna film more stuff together. We’ll get used to her freaking out, laughing, crying… it’s all part of the package.”

Eunbi raises an eyebrow, feigning a jealous look. “Oh, yeah? Who says we’re filming with her again? Did you like her that much?”

You chuckle, catching her playful tone. “Obviously. All for your success, babe. It’s just strategic thinking, you know?”

She laughs, giving your chest a light smack. “Alright, strategist. I'm just kidding. It was really fun, the whole… experience.”

“Good. Now, go to sleep,” you say, exhausted.

“Yes, Daddy,” she replies, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

“Oh, I like that,” you joke.

She rolls her eyes in the dark and replies, “Don’t even start.”