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reidrum · 7 months ago

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how dare you think it's romantic, leaving me safe and stranded

A/N: if i stared at this any longer it would never see the light of day...so here she is! this is the longest fic i've ever written and i'm kinda gagged about that but i really hope you like it and if you don't that's okay too this is just silly angsty brainrot anyways thanks for reading this my inbox is open if you wanna yap more summary: in which your kidnapping forces you and spencer to face the fallout following your recently ended relationship cw: angst, hurt/comfort, reader is kidnapped/held hostage, implications and mentions of SA to reader but nothing happens, cm type violence, ex!spencer, lowkey lovers to enemies back to lovers, cat adams, medical jargon, miscommunication trope, the bau team is family, afab!reader, pet names wc: 5.1k

Every case you and Spencer have been on has been insufferable for the rest of the team since your falling out, if it had to be given a name. Everyone always had to deal with your constant bickering and harsh words. It was the same in every case, a difference of opinions that led to incessant fighting between you two, Hotch would have to separate you both and use your joint intelligence separately for the sake of keeping everyone alive.

This last case was nothing different, a serial killer in Athens, Georgia who was religiously sacrificing young women in the name of a cult. Both of you fighting over what you believed the other to be wrong about in their part for solving the case. Spencer thought the unsub would have struck in a zone closer to his home, you assumed he was only going after women who resembled someone in his life. The real problem was that you were both wrong.

And it ended with you being held hostage.

It all happened so fast. You were in the car with Spencer and Rossi driving out to the unsub’s house to check for new evidence when you had stopped at a gas station about 15 miles out from the house to refuel. Rossi got out of the car to pump the gas, Spencer sat in the passenger seat, and you went inside to use the bathroom and grab a quick snack.

You quickly washed your hands after finishing in the bathroom and wiped your hands on your pants, still slightly damp as you turn the handle of the door. As you’re perusing the aisle looking for a snack, you can feel the presence of watchful eyes on you. Casually, you slowly look up and around at the source and clock a figure an aisle over with a cap turned downward blocking their face.

Your gut was sending flares up, telling you that danger was near. You nonchalantly walk over to the aisle he’s in, pretending to look at the nuts and dried fruits while attempting to get a look at his face. In a (maybe not so) bright idea, you think to knock a bag of nuts on the floor next to the lurker’s feet in the hopes he’ll bend down to pick it up for you.

With a push of your hand, the bag knocks off the shelf and onto the floor and you both bend down to pick it up.

“I’m so sorry about that,” you chuckle lightly, “I’m such a clutz.”

“No problem at all, Miss—.” He stops talking all of a sudden, you’re unsure why. You follow his gaze to your left hip where your FBI credentials are peaking out.

Shit.

He draws a weapon faster than you’re able to react with getting your own out, and by the time yours is out the barrel of his is flush with your forehead.

“Drop it.”

You quickly recognize the man as your unsub, miles away from his hunting ground and about to stray from his victimology with you.

“Come on, up. We’re going for a little ride.” He snarls, glancing outside at the black SUV with your colleagues. He grabs you by a hairful and drags you out the back door, shooting the gas station clerk before making the escape with you to his pickup truck. You’re shoved against the car door, back facing him, as he place a zip tie on your wrists and opens the door to sit you in the back seat. The unsub gets in the driver’s seat and starts the car, glaring at you through the rear view mirror, “I’m gonna have fun with you, fed.”

Meanwhile, back in the car Rossi stands at the pump waiting for the tank to fill and Spencer remains in the car looking over the case details once more. He can’t help but feel something is wrong, but can’t place his finger on it. He looks over the details again meticulously, searching for a fault anywhere in your, or even his own logic. Rossi closes the tank and hops back in the car, “She’s not back yet?” he pondered.

Spencer hadn’t even realized you weren’t back yet, “I guess not,” something wasn’t right, “She went ten minutes ago right?”

Rossi nods, opening his mouth to speak when a gunshot coming from the gas station cuts him off. The men look at each other, eyes widened and rush out of the car, weapons drawn.

“FBI!” Rossi enters, looking for any sign of you but coming up empty. Spencer takes note of the disheveled store, produce and cans lying astray. He steps around the mess to find an out of place bag of sour gummy worms on the floor in the middle of an aisle only filled with nuts and dried fruit.

Sour gummy worms were your favorite.

A sinking feeling settles in Spencer as he tries to fight the reality his brain is trying to tell him. He looks to Rossi with a pained expression, and Rossi matches it back.

“He took her.”

___

The next few hours are a blur for Spencer.

Rossi called the team to meet them at the gas station, already telling Garcia to hack into the security cameras to find any clue of where he’d taken you. Emily and Derek were checking out the crime scene, Hotch and Rossi talking to the sheriff. JJ finds Spencer staring off onto the one road connected to the station.

“We’re gonna find her, Spence.”

He whips his head up at the sound of her voice, “I should’ve realized sooner. I knew there was something off about his MO, a��and I just couldn’t place it. And now she’s gone and it’s all my fault and I never—“

“Spencer,” JJ interrupts softly, “You couldn’t have known. None of us did, even her.”

“I should have,” he laments, “And if she…if something happens to her because I wasn’t paying attention…” He trails off, too afraid of what his brain thinks is the ending of the sentence.

JJ offers him a sympathetic look, understanding the conflicting emotions, “We’ll find her, she’s strong. You know that.”

He stares back at her hoping, praying, that she’s right and you’re going to be okay. You have to be.

He’s pulled out of his head by Morgan calling him and JJ over, telling Garcia on the phone to repeat her findings.

“Okay, I think I have a lead based on the security camera footage on the car he has and where it’s been last seen. I’m sending the last known coordinates to your phones now.”

An idea springs to him, “Garcia, can you also check the gas station records and see how much he filled his tank?”

The clacking sounds of her keyboard ring through the phone before she speaks again, “He didn’t fill a full tank, only like, fifteen miles worth of gas.”

Everyone looks up at each other in realization of what the new information means. You had to be close by. Morgan walks over to tell Hotch, who immediately talks to a state ranger about setting up a 15 mile radius around the gas station with monitored roadblocks, no entry or exit without inspection.

After Hotch finishes he walks back to Spencer and lays a hand on his shoulder, “Good job, Reid,” He nods back with a thin lipped smile and fiddles with his pen anxiously, “Are you okay?”. Spencer can’t tell if he’s genuinely asking him or if he’s asking him for the sake of him being able to do his job properly considering the circumstances. Ever the profiler that man is, he thinks. He nods again nonetheless and walks over to meet Derek at the car.

Spencer and Derek get into the car and set the route for the coordinates Garcia gave, ETA 14 minutes. He swallows nervously, do you even have 14 minutes? What if he’s too late? What if you’re not even there? What if he never got to tell you—

“Reid. Are you even listening?”

“What?”

Derek raises his eyebrows as he glances at his friend, “Got something on your mind?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re a shit liar, man.”

“I’m not lying.” Even he doesn’t believe himself.

“Spencer—“

“I’m just worried! Okay? We’re all worried, it’s not a big deal.” he snaps.

Derek stops at a red light and looks over the console, “I’m going to ignore whatever that was,” guilt sweeps over Spencer’s face as he continues, “I’m not stupid kid, I know how you’re feeling. But you can’t let whatever turmoil you got in that big brain of yours affect this case. Not now.”

“I know that, Morg—“

“No, you don’t. I know you’re thinking about her, we all are. And we all want—need—her to be okay too. We will find her, but we can’t let the unsub get away too.”

Spencer sighs outwardly seeing the truth in his words. As concerned as he was about you he needed to remember this was still an active case. He couldn't let your past with each other cloud his judgement, even if the fallout still haunts him every day of his life. He needs to save you, but he also has a job to do. He just wasn’t sure if he’d remember that when they finally found you.

——

A pounding in your head stirs you awake, the bitter taste of metal flooding your senses as you come to. You blink a few times adjusting to the lowlights of the unfamiliar environment, hoping to find something distinguishable to ground you back to reality. It doesn’t help once you realize the blood crusted over your eye is the reason for your obscured vision. You attempt to rub it off on your shoulder ignoring the sharp pains shooting up from the abrasive contact.

Once you think you’ve cleared enough you blink a few more times registering your surroundings to be a house, a cabin more accurately. Your memory is a little fuzzy as you try to recount what happened before you were knocked out cold.

Gas station. Unsub. Unsub at the gas station? But where was I…I went to the bathroom… and was getting…gummy worms?… But Rossi and Spencer were just outside… now I’m here…so does that means the unsub—

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

You jolt at the voice—the unsub you’ve come to remember—and you realize your hands are tied up behind your back, quickly coming to the second realization that you are rendered both injured and immobile.

“What do you want, Jason?” you say hoarsely after a minute.

He chuckles, “I didn’t know they made them so pretty at the academy…” he walks over and kneels in front of you, gripping your chin between his forefinger and thumb to move your head, “They probably kept you around for…entertainment right?”

You whip your head, “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Oh, you’re feisty. That’s good, keep it up. Makes this more fun.” he walks back over to the table and fiddles with something, you can’t really tell from the floor, “So how’d they make it work back in—what is it called—Quantico! They take turns with you or? There’s so many of y’all, probably had a system.”

The pounding in your head makes it more difficult to process anything he’s saying, “The hell are you talking about, take turns with what?” you ask, wincing through another wave of pain.

He turns around holding a metal rod and walks over, angling the rod under your chin to tilt your face up to meet his as he snarls, “I can’t wait to see how it feels to fuck a federal whore.”

All the color drains from your face and you kick into whatever gas is left in your autopilot. Your feet are flailing in every direction, body thrashing violently to prevent Jason from getting a good grip on you. You quickly learn the purpose of the metal rod hearing the clang! first, a millisecond passing before the pain and threat of unconsciousness spreads through your brain.

The hit takes you out long enough for him to pin you down on the floor, the weight of his body landing on you before the metal rod goes for your limbs. It’s then you realize the throes of death have wrangled you for what appears to be the last time, and it’s probably wise to start saying—thinking— your final words.

To my parents, I love you. To Derek and Penelope, thank you for letting me third wheel with you. Emily, I’ll miss our weekend Sin City excursions. JJ, please give your boys the biggest hug from their favorite aunt. Rossi and Hotch, you always cared for me like I was your own—I am so grateful for you.

And Spencer…Oh, Spencer. How I hoped I would have the time to say I’m sorry for what happened, I hope you’ll forgive me in due time. I wish I told you that nothing about us ever changed for me. You were and will always be, My Spencer, I just wish I could tell you one more time how much I lov—“

“FBI, Drop your weapon!”

A clattering sound of something dropping rings directly next to your ear and the weight that was on you alleviates at the same time. You groan out and instinctively curl up on yourself, the pain spreading throughout your body. The sensory overload is so much you don’t hear the approaching figure crouching next to you.

“Hey Hey Hey,” Spencer stutters, quickly making work of the ties on your hands and holding you gently as he lays your head on his lap cradling you close, trying to hide the forming tears when he hears your whimpers of pain, “You’re okay, it’s okay. The medic’s coming.” He looks back to where the unsub was and watches Derek put him in cuffs, nodding at Spencer before walking out with Jason.

“…Spencer?” you whisper out weakly. You think you’re dreaming honestly, that in the wake of death you learn heaven isn’t a place but only his arms.

“Yeah, honey, it’s me.” he chokes out looking back down at your bruised face. He’s unsure how you still look angelic even when you’re hurt, but it doesn’t surprise him that you do. You were always good at defying the laws of nature, he prayed it extended to your immortality.

“It hurts.” you pout pathetically.

He brushes a strand of hair out of your eyes gently, “I know it does, honey I know. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry this happened. I should’ve been there. I’m sorry, baby.” he whispers tearfully.

You cough out and whimper in pain, “I’m sorry too.”

Spencer shakes his head vehemently, “No, don’t apologize. Don’t do that, just keep your eyes open for me, okay? I’m right here, I won’t leave you.”

The tiredness soon wins and your eyes flutter close. Before Spencer can even panic and beg you to open them again the medic finally comes and asks him—pulls him— to move so they can start working on you.

He reluctantly backs up and watches on with glossed over eyes, barely registering all the things they were sticking in you to wake you up. The medics stabilize your neck with a C-SPINE and lift you onto the gurney, wheeling you back to the ambulance. The same medic who asked Spencer to move comes up to him again, “We’re taking her to Georgetown Medical, you’re allowed to ride in the back with us if you want.”

You slowly come to again on the gurney and Spencer meets your open eyes before you even realize they’re on you. Without hesitation he says, “Yeah, I’m coming.”

The medic team lifts your gurney inside the rig, and right before Spencer gets in he feels a hand on his shoulder. He turns around to find Hotch, “You’ll be okay?”

It’s a loaded question. He’s not asking if Spencer is okay at this moment, because it doesn’t take a profiler to see that he’s the farthest from it. He says it as a grounding reminder knowing how Spencer gets about you. It didn’t matter to the team if you both fell out, the pair of you never faltered in your subconscious for each other. Both of your actions always moved faster than your brains, especially when it involved the other.

That’s what worried his Unit Chief.

He nods and Hotch gives his shoulder a light squeeze, “Keep us updated,” the concern clearly etched in his eyes breaking through his usual stoicism as he looks inside the rig, “We’ll meet you there as soon as we can.”

Under the bright lights of the ambulance he’s—unfortunately—able to really take inventory of the injuries you sustained. The blue and black bruising scattered your limbs, the congregation of it on your stomach telling him you have at least two broken ribs. His eyes trail further down your body before abruptly stopping, but not on an appendage.

Spencer’s face pales even further than it already has staring at the glint on the undone button of your trousers shining in the reflection of the light.

If they didn’t get there when they did…If he got to you a second later…He can’t even fathom to think about what would’ve happened.

He’s broken out of his spiral by the EMT sitting next to him offering a tissue, which is when Spencer feels the tear and snot streaks rolling down his face. He takes it and wipes his face mindlessly before muttering, “Can I just…” hands reaching out to you before his words come out. Spencer doesn’t notice the EMT tearing up as he gently buttons your pants.

——

You were a fighter.

At least, that’s what the doctors told Spencer when they came and updated him in the waiting room. He blanks out for most of the conversation, eyes unfocusing and ears on low lest your name be spoken.

“She’s stable and awake now, the nurse can take you back to see her.”

He shakes his head to recenter and mutters a thank you before following the nurse through the double white doors. His senses are heightened as he walks closer to your room. The scuff of his shoes on the linoleum floors, the pedantic beeping of machines in the rooms he passes, until he hears the only voice that’s ever been enough to calm the warzone in his mind.

“Hi, Spence.”

His feet move on their own accord right next to your bedside, hands hovering awkwardly at his side. He’s silent for the first couple minutes, just a faint sniffle here and there before he takes a seat near your bed and hears you speak again.

“You can touch me, Spence. I won’t break more than I already am.”

“Don’t say that,” he chides quickly, “It’s not a joke.”

“Well, someone should be the comedic relief here.”

He lays the tips of his fingers right on top of the tips of yours, “You could have died.”

Your face softens, “I didn’t though.”

“You could have.”

“Spencer—“

“Stop down playing it. You don’t know what it was like finding you like that.”

“I mean I have some idea, ‘cause like, I was there.”

Spencer deadpans at your poor attempt at lightening the mood, a faint smile peaking through while he shakes his head, “Insufferable even at your deathbed.”

“Yeah, the Grim Reaper heard me yapping and said ‘keep her’.”

He chuckles softly as his hand moves further up to rest the front of his palm on the back of your hand, “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve…been better. The doctor said one of my broken ribs punctured an artery, a big one apparently,” you flip your hand over so both of your palms are touching but not laced, you softly continue, “Told me I was lucky I came in when I did. Any later the internal bleeding would’ve spread to my lungs.”

Spencer feels the tears springing again and a lump forming in his throat, “I’m so sorry, sweet girl,” the pet name slipping out before he could realize, “I should’ve gotten there sooner, or realized something was wrong at the gas station.”

“Hey. Don’t do that. You saved my life.” your fingers intertwine with his and squeeze with whatever strength you can muster, which isn’t a lot and it makes his heart clench tighter. “I’m here.”

He lets out the breath he’s been holding since he walked in, “You’re here.”

“I didn’t forget what you promised me when we…broke up,” God you wish it didn’t sound so terminable as it did, “I knew you’d find me. You always do.”

Another sniffle leaves him as he rubs his thumb soothingly on your hand, “I always do…Look, there’s something I need to tell you—“

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as Penelope & Company burst into your room bearing balloons, chocolates, and many, many stuffies.

“How’s our girl doing?” Penelope huffs, hauling an entire Hallmark catalog worth of gifts in tow.

“She’s doing fine, Penny.” you chuckle lightly, trying your best to hide the wince of pain from your side, “You did not need to do all this.”

“Nonsense, everyone knows bear stuffies are the real medicine of the world.” she gleefully ignores the nurse onlookers, “I also brought you this, of special request by someone who shall not be named.” From her back she produces a bag of your favorite candy—sour gummy worms. A fact that you knew only one person was privy to.

You act surprised nonetheless, “My favorite! Thank you, Penny. And all of you, for coming to see my crippled self.”

Spencer watches the team take turns doting on you. Emily, JJ, and Penelope sit with you for about four Gilmore Girls episodes—another lost relic of modern medicine, according to Penny—after which Morgan, Rossi, and Hotch keep you company for a little bit before bidding you good night with forehead kisses and well wishes. Spencer stays with you the whole time, never once leaving your side.

You are so loved, he thinks. He didn’t realize how much he liked watching you be loved. It makes him miss the times when he could do that for you too.

——

Weeks pass since the day of your kidnapping. You still find it weird to call it that, even though it’s literally what happened. You’ve been on house arrest—bed rest—begrudgingly, and while Penelope’s very glittery visiting schedule has kept you entertained, it’s been hard when the only person you really wanted to see has refused to come visit since you left the hospital.

You’ve asked Penelope why Spencer hasn’t come, and all she can offer you is a sad smile and a ‘He said something come up sweetie, sorry.’. Texting him seemed even more daunting, more because you weren’t about to beg for his attention if he obviously doesn’t want you to have it.

The doorbell steals your attention and you glance over at the schedule before you walk over to open it, not expecting a visitor at this time.

Spencer looks up from his shoes hearing the door open, “Hey.”

A minute passes, “Why are you here?” you ask bluntly.

He looks confused, “I came to check on you, brought you takeout from the Indian place you like.” The food in his hand smells heavenly but you can’t seem to enjoy it yet without getting an answer.

“Why are you here, now?” you ask again with an addendum.

He either really wants to piss you off or his ear blew out on the way over but he chooses to ignore you and enter your apartment, “You having nightmares again?”

“What? No…” you lie poorly, straightening up your back, “Just tired.”

He chuckles, “Good to know you’re still a terrible liar. Did you know you wear Doctor Who shirts when you’re feeling anxious?”

Your brows fuddle in confusion but he elaborates, “It’s probably subconscious, something you find comforting and naturally gravitate to in times of distress. It’s a normal stress response but…you’re wearing an Eleventh Doctor shirt.” My Eleventh Doctor shirt, he thinks.

“That doesn’t mean anything.” you feign.

“Maybe it doesn’t,” he nods, “But you are anxious aren’t you?”

“Spencer, what the fuck is going on, why are you here, really?” your eyes narrow, arms crossing defensively.

“I told you, I came to check on you.”

“You just woke up this morning and decided it was convenient for you to see me today?” Spencer opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. You stare at him with tearful eyes and the emotion spills out of you before you can stop it. You speak again after a few moments, voice barely above a whisper, “You left me. Again.”

He tilts his head, “No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.” you grit out, “You were rooted at my bedside the entire time I was hospitalized, and the second I was discharged you were nowhere to be found. I thought, maybe with Penny’s schedule you’d come by, but then I came to find out that you didn’t even put your name down.”

“You almost died!” he retorts, “You almost died, because I made a mistake and you got hurt because of it!”

“So, that gives you the right to abandon me for the second time?”

“I didn’t…” he sighs out roughly, “I didn’t abandon you. I just, couldn’t…face you.” Face you, in pain, as a result of his actions.

“Is that what happened the first time you left?” you bite back.

His eyes steel over, “That was different.”

“I don’t see how.”

“You know why I left.”

“I don’t think I do, Spencer—”

“I left because I was putting you in danger!” he yells cutting you off, “I left because loving you meant dragging you into all the messed up stuff that happens to me, stuff that’ll keep happening to me.”

Tobias. Mexico. Cat.

A single tear rolls down your face, “That’s bullshit, I’m sorry. We work the same damn job, the risks are the same if we’re together or not.”

“You don’t understand—“

“Then fucking enlighten me, Spencer.”

He stares at you, fighting an internal battle of whether he was really willing to admit his truth to you, one that he knows you deserved to know but wasn’t sure if it would put you more in harm's way.

“Cat had details about your family.”

That’s not what you were expecting to hear. Your face drops, “Wh—What?”

His eyes dart around the room nervously, “After I got out of Millburn and we went to see Cat, she was trying all these tactics to get me to break. I was doing fine, until she started talking about you. She was saying things that only you told me, stuff that’s not even on record.”

You remember that day. You were supposed to go with him and JJ to the correctional facility but ended up stuck at the BAU because your skill set was more valuable in helping Penelope locate Mr. Scratch. You remember how he came back to you that day, distant and glassed over. It was easy to chalk up his behavior following it to his recent release, but when you woke up a few weeks later to an empty bed and a throwaway note saying ‘I’m sorry.”, you couldn’t figure out for the life of you why all of a sudden you didn’t exist to him, like you didn’t matter.

“I made a choice, one that I knew would protect you.”

“That’s not a decision for you to make.” you snap.

“I had to,” he says lowly, taking a step closer to you, “If being with me puts your safety at risk…” another step, “I’d rather live in a world where you hate me and are still here…” one more step, “Than one where you loved me and died because of it.” he manages to choke out, taking one final step towards you.

It’s quiet for a couple minutes, save for the soft whistle of the breeze coming from your open window. The resolve in you has long faded, leaving behind nothing but the skin on your bones to weather the damage. It makes sense to you why he did what he did, and you don’t know if the roles were reversed would you do the same thing. But you knew that you loved him and he loved you, and that alone should have been enough.

You can’t help but let out a whine, sounding like a petulant child, “That’s not fair, Spence.”

“What’s not fair, baby?” he softly whispers.

Your whine turns into a cry, “That, all of this. The fall on your sword act in which you decide what’s best for me is to leave me stranded, thinking I did something wrong that made you stop loving me.”

He steps forward a little more, his face mere inches from your own, “You think I stopped loving you?”

“Was I supposed to think otherwise? You couldn’t even stand being in the same room as me.”

His hands raise to gently cup your face, thumbs positioned under your eyes to wipe the fallen tears. He’s missed looking into your eyes as close as he is. For a man who doesn’t believe in religion he’s pretty certain the gates of heaven lie within your irises.

“I was selfish,” he swallows, “I wanted to keep you safe but I did so in a way that I felt was most logical, which turned out to be so fucking wrong regardless since you still got hurt.”

He brings your face impossibly closer, the warmth of his breath gently hitting your face.

“There isn’t a waking moment where I don’t love you. Even when we weren’t together, I still looked out for you and I made sure you were safe in ways I couldn’t tell you. I meant what I said. I told you I’d find you in every lifetime. I love you, in every lifetime, angel girl.”

The ache in your heart only grows with his words, reminding you that he always was and will forever be, Your Spencer.

“You can’t do that again,” you stutter out through tiny sobs, “You need to tell me what’s going on, whatever it is. We figure it out together.”

He nods softly, the hair on his forehead faintly brushing up on yours, “We figure it out together. I’m so sorry for everything, baby.” his lips press a long kiss to your forehead, “I’m here now, I’m not going anywhere.”

You rise on your toes to meet your lips with his, the missed time and unspoken words flowing silently between you both. His hands wrap gently around your waist and pull you flush to his chest, with yours entangling with the brown curls you had missed so much.

Finally back in his arms, you sigh with exhaustion and relief, “You’re here.”

“I’m here, honey.”

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flux1563 · 1 month ago

Text

The Porn Shoot ft yunjin

Tags : Squirting, creampie, pussy gape, video call sex, male reader

Words : 7730

"You're up next, Yunjin," the director called out, his voice slicing through the muggy summer air. The bustle of the film crew around her grew distant as she stepped into the spotlight. Sweat trickled down her neck, sticking her shirt to her skin like a second layer of glue.

Yunjin took a deep breath and focused on the beat of the music pumping through her earphones. She had practiced this routine a hundred times in the mirror, but the pressure of the cameras and the expectant gazes of the group made her heart hammer like a drum in her chest. She closed her eyes for a moment, blocking out the chaos, and when she opened them, she saw the text from her manager, Y/N, again. "Can u come to my car, i need to tell u something." The words danced in front of her like a mirage, taunting her.

With a furtive glance at the director, she made a split-second decision. She mouthed an apology to her groupmates and dashed off the set, the clack of her heels echoing down the alley. The car was parked at the end, a sleek black sedan that had become a second home over the months of their relentless schedule. She could see his silhouette through the tinted windows, a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips, the orange ember burning like a beacon.

Her heart was racing as she opened the door and slipped into the cool, leather embrace of the passenger seat. The scent of smoke and cologne filled the air, and she took a deep breath to steady herself. "What do you want to tell?" she said, her voice wavering slightly.

Y/N turned to her, his eyes dark and unreadable. For a moment, she thought he might actually have some news about their upcoming tour or maybe a surprise visit from the record label. But instead, he leaned in and kissed her, his cigarette dropping to the floor mat with a hiss. Yunjin's thoughts froze as she processed the suddenness of his action. She'd never seen this side of him before, and the warmth of his mouth on hers sent a jolt of surprise through her body.

But she didn't pull away. If anything, she leaned into it, her own stress and pent-up desires taking over. The kiss grew more urgent, his hands tangling in her hair as she gripped the armrest, their breaths mingling in the close quarters of the car. The fabric of their clothes whispered together, the sound a stark contrast to the loud silence that enveloped them. Yunjin's body responded in a way that was both thrilling and terrifying, her skin tingling with a heat that had nothing to do with the sticky weather outside.

Breaking away, he whispered, "You're so beautiful." His hands slid down to her shoulders, his thumbs brushing the exposed skin of her collarbone. The words sent a shiver down her spine, and she couldn't help but wonder what had brought this on. Was it the intensity of their work, or something else entirely? The question hovered at the edge of her mind, but she didn't dare voice it, afraid to ruin the moment.

He reached for the hem of her shirt, his movements slow and deliberate. She watched as his eyes widened with excitement when he saw the bare skin of her stomach. Her heart hammered in her ears as his fingers traced a line up to her breasts, teasing the fabric of her bra. The anticipation was almost too much to handle, her body already humming with need. She hadn't felt this alive in weeks, not with the constant pressure of perfecting their performances and meeting endless demands.

As Y/N's hands grew bolder, Yunjin felt a mix of emotions - fear of getting caught, confusion about the sudden turn of events, but mostly, a fierce, unbridled craving for more. Her own hands found his face, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss as she straddled him on the plush seat. The engine of the car hummed beneath them, a steady rhythm that mirrored the beating of their hearts. The world outside the tinted windows faded away, leaving only the two of them and the electric tension that crackled in the air.

With a gentle tug, he peeled her shirt off her shoulders, revealing her lacy bra. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight, and he leaned in to kiss the spot just above the fabric. She gasped, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through her. Her hands trembled as she reached behind her to unclasp the bra, letting it fall away. His warm palms cupped her breasts, thumbs circling her hardened nipples. The heat of his touch sent bolts of sensation through her, and she couldn't help but arch into his hand.

Yunjin's skin was sticky with sweat and desire as she leaned back into the seat, her breaths coming in shallow pants. He kissed his way down her body, peeling off her tight jeans and panties in one fluid motion. She was laid bare before him, her pussy swollen and glistening in the dim light. His eyes roamed over her, and she felt his gaze like a caress, leaving her skin alight with anticipation. The sight of his hunger for her was intoxicating.

Her nipples were bright pink, peaked like cherries at the end of a warm summer's day, begging to be tasted. He took one into his mouth, sucking gently at first before increasing the pressure. She moaned, her back arching off the seat, her hands clutching at his hair. He switched to the other one, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, and she gasped. The pleasure was exquisite, a perfect balance of pain and pleasure that had her legs trembling.

Her pussy was meaty, the skin a deep, flushed red that spoke of desire. He kissed his way down her body, his breath hot against her skin. His tongue traced the delicate folds, and she quivered under his touch. His fingers slipped inside her, exploring her wetness with a gentle insistence that had her hips rocking against his hand. He groaned against her, the vibration sending a fresh wave of heat through her. She felt so exposed, so vulnerable, but also so powerful.

"Keep going, your mouth is so good," she gasped, the words spilling out of her like a confession. His tongue circled her clit, teasing it mercilessly until she was panting. Her fingers curled into the leather of the seat, her body tightening with the beginnings of an orgasm. He knew exactly how to touch her, how to make her body sing with pleasure.

He looked up at her, a smug smile playing on his lips before he plunged his tongue deep inside her. She moaned loudly, the sound muffled by his mouth. Her pussy build the pressure until she was sure she couldn't take anymore. "I'm gonna cum, Y/N," she whimpered, the words barely coherent. "Is it okay to squirt?"

"Just do it, Yunjin," he said, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down her spine. And with those simple words, the dam burst. Her body convulsed as she came hard, her juices spurting out and soaking the seat beneath her. The scream that tore from her throat was primal, echoing in the confined space of the car. She had never been so uninhibited, never felt so alive.

He didn't stop though. If anything, the feel of her squirting around his fingers only spurred him on. He began to pump his hand in earnest, his two digits sliding in and out of her slick channel with an ease that spoke of experience. She could feel herself tightening around him, her orgasm still riding her like a wild wave. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, but she didn't want it to end.

"Yes, Y/N," she moaned, her voice a desperate plea. "Right there, keep touching it." He chuckled against her skin, his breath hot and heavy. He knew just where to touch her to send her over the edge again, and he wasn't about to let her down. His thumb found her clit once more, rubbing it in a slow, circular motion that had her bucking her hips against him.

Her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth parted in a silent scream as the orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave. The squirt grew more intense, spraying against his hand and the leather seat. It was a mess, but she couldn't bring herself to care. All she knew was the exquisite sensation of his tongue swirling around her clit, his fingers still pumping in and out of her. The warmth of his breath against her skin only added to the sensory overload.

"Three squirt," she heard him murmur, his voice a low rumble in his chest. She could feel another climax building, her body a tight coil ready to snap. "Four squirt," he said, and she lost count as the contractions took over. Her pussy clenched around his digits, her squirts becoming a continuous flow as she rode the waves of pleasure. She had never felt like this before, never knew she could.

Her body was a symphony of sensation, each touch and kiss a note that played in time with the pulse of the bass outside the car. She could feel the vibrations of the music video shoot through the pavement and up into her very core. The world outside didn't matter; all that existed was the rhythm of his hand and the warmth of his mouth.

Yunjin's pussy was a machine of pleasure, squirting in time with his expert ministrations. Each pulse of her orgasm was a gush of wetness that soaked the seat, a testament to the power of his touch. Her legs were trembling, her muscles quivering as she rode the waves of ecstasy. She could feel herself growing wetter with each passing second, her body responding to his every command.

"Fuckk so much squirt from ur mouth and fingers," she moaned, her voice thick with arousal. She had never been so vocal before, but something about the way he played her body like an instrument brought out a side of her she didn't know existed. It was raw and primal, and it was exhilarating.

He sat up, his eyes gleaming with lust. He unzipped his pants, revealing his hard cock, which stood at attention like a soldier waiting for his orders. Yunjin couldn't help but stare, her mouth watering at the sight. She had never felt so hungry for someone, so desperate to feel them inside her. "Please," she begged, "just fuck me already. I can't wait anymore."

But Y/N had other plans. He reached over to the center console and pulled out a bottle of water. He unscrewed the cap and took a sip before leaning back down to her pussy. The coolness of the liquid on her sensitive skin made her jump, and she watched in amazement as he began to rub the water onto her clit with his thumb. The sensation was strange, but it soon gave way to a new kind of pleasure as the water mixed with her juices. He worked her clit in a slow, deliberate rhythm, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Wait," he said, his voice thick with lust. "I want to make you squirt five times again before I fuck you."

And with that, his mouth returned to her pussy, his tongue dancing over her clit while his fingers plunged in and out of her wetness. Yunjin's eyes rolled back in her head, the pleasure so intense it was almost painful. She could feel another orgasm building, her body tightening around his hand. He was relentless, his mouth working her clit like it was the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted. She could feel her pussy clench and release, a symphony of pleasure that had her toes curling.

"One," she gasped, her voice trembling as she felt the first spurt of wetness. "Two," she moaned, her hips bucking against his face. The squirts grew stronger, her body convulsing with each wave of ecstasy. "Three, four..." she lost count as the orgasms rolled through her, each one more intense than the last. She could feel herself getting wetter, the squirts turning into a torrent that soaked his hand and the car seat beneath her.

Yunjin was panting, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. But He wasn't done yet. He sat up, his hand still buried in her pussy, and leaned over to grab the bottle of water again. He brought it to her mouth, tilting it so that the cool liquid spilled over her tongue and down her throat. The contrast of the cold water against her burning desire was exquisite. "Five," she whispered, her eyes glazed with lust.

And then, with a final, powerful thrust of his fingers, she felt it - the fifth orgasm ripping through her like a bolt of lightning. Her pussy clenched around his hand, spraying water and juices everywhere. She screamed his name, the sound echoing through the car. He watched her with a mix of awe and satisfaction, his own arousal palpable in the tense air.

"I want you to suck my dick," He said, his voice strained with need. "But we don't have enough time."

Yunjin nodded, her body still trembling from the intensity of her climax. She knew the risks of getting caught, but she couldn't deny the desperate craving to feel him inside her. "It's okay," she whispered, her eyes never leaving his. "Just fuck me now."

With a feral growl, he positioned himself between her legs, his cock slick with her juices. He took a moment to appreciate the sight of her, sprawled out on the car seat, her chest heaving and her pussy glistening with need. Then, without further warning, he pushed inside her, his cock sliding in easily due to her squirts. Yunjin's eyes went wide as she felt the stretch, the sensation of fullness that was so overwhelming it was almost too much to handle.

Her orgasm hit her like a freight train, the initial penetration sending her soaring over the edge once more. Her pussy clamped down on his cock as she came, her muscles contracting in a delicious symphony of pleasure. He groaned, the feel of her tight pussy milking him almost pushing him over the edge.

"Why you so sensitive?" he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "Do you need it this bad?"

"Your cock is just so fucking big," Yunjin managed to gasp, her eyes squeezed shut as she felt every inch of him fill her up. It was true; his size was something she had never experienced before. It was almost painful, but in the most exquisite way. Her pussy stretched around him, the sensation of being so utterly filled sending her over the edge again.

"I can feel it," she whispered, her voice barely a murmur. "Your cock is touching every corner of my pussy." His eyes darkened with desire at her words, his grip on her hips tightening as he began to thrust in earnest. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the car, punctuating the quiet night air outside. The leather of the seat squeaked beneath her as he fucked her hard and fast, each stroke pushing her closer to another orgasm.

Her squirts grew more intense, her pussy contracting around his shaft like a vice. It was as if her body was trying to milk him dry, to pull every ounce of cum from him. Yunjin's moans grew louder with each thrust, her voice hoarse from the screams of pleasure that had torn from her throat. She had never felt so alive, so wanted. The way he claimed her, so rough and unyielding, it was as if he owned her, as if she was nothing more than a toy for his amusement.

Yet even as her body responded to him, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. This wasn't supposed to happen, not with her manager, not when they had a music video to finish. But the feeling was quickly drowned out by the fire that raged through her veins, the need to feel him deeper, to come again and again.

Her legs were trembling, her body slick with sweat and desire. Each squirt seemed to come more easily now, her pussy gushing like a fountain each time he hit that perfect spot. He groaned, his movements growing more erratic as he felt her tighten around him, her orgasms pushing him closer to the edge. "You're so good, Yunjin," he panted, his hips slamming into her with a ferocity that was almost scary. "So fucking good."

Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she could only manage a breathy "Ahh..." as he brought her to climax after climax. It was as if her body had become a machine solely designed for his pleasure, each squirt a testament to his skill. The car rocked with their movements, the leather seat sticking to her skin as she bucked and writhed beneath him. The world outside had faded away, leaving only the two of them in a bubble of lust and passion.

His grip on her hips grew bruising, his thrusts deep and punishing. He was relentless in his pursuit of her pleasure, pushing her to heights she had never dreamed of. And she was powerless to stop it, her body responding to his every demand. Her pussy was a fountain of desire, squirting uncontrollably with each stroke of his cock. The sound of their lovemaking filled the car, a symphony of wetness and passion.

Her orgasms came in waves, one after the other, each more intense than the last. She could do nothing but gasp and moan, her voice reduced to a series of breathless "Ahhhs" that seemed to fuel his lust. His eyes were locked on hers, watching her unravel beneath him with a hunger that was almost frightening. But she didn't care. All that mattered was the feeling of him inside her, the way her body responded to his touch.

Yunjin's pussy was a fountain, a never-ending source of wetness that only grew more intense with each thrust. She could feel it gushing out of her, soaking the seat, the fabric of her panties sticking to her skin. The sight of her own juices pooling around his cock was too much to handle, and she squirted again, the force of it pushing him deeper inside her. "Ahh, yes," she moaned, her back arching as she gave herself over to the pleasure.

Her eyes squeezed shut, she could only manage to breathe out the word, "More." Her body was a playground for his desires, and he took full advantage, his hips pistoning into her with a rhythm that was as mesmerizing as it was punishing. Each time she thought she had reached her peak, he pushed her further, his cock hitting that magical spot that had her squirting uncontrollably.

Yunjin's pussy had become a machine, churning out a deluge of liquid with each powerful thrust. The sound of her squirts filled the car, a symphony of pleasure that seemed to crescendo with every gasp and moan that she couldn't hold back. Her thighs were slick with her own juices, the sticky mess a testament to the intensity of their passion.

All she could do was let out a breathy "Ahh," over and over again, her body no longer under her own control. Each time he pulled out, she felt the emptiness keenly, only to be filled once more by his thick, pulsing cock. It was as if her body had a mind of its own, eagerly welcoming him back with a fresh spray of wetness. Her orgasms were a blur, each one more intense than the last.

Her pussy was a fountain, a never-ending stream of liquid desire that soaked the seat beneath her. The leather stuck to her skin, the fabric of her clothes plastered to her body as she squirted in a rhythm that matched the beat of the music thumping outside the car. The sight was mesmerizing, a visual symphony of passion that had her mind reeling.

"Why haven't you cum yet?" she panted, desperation lacing her voice. Yunjin's body was on fire, each pulse of pleasure making her want more. She could feel the tension coiling in his body, his muscles tight with the effort of holding back. It was a delicious torment, knowing she could push him over the edge at any moment.

"What do u mean, Yunjin?" he asked, a hint of frustration in his tone. "We just began fucking for 10 minutes."

"It's just..." she panted, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of pink. "It feels so good, every part of me wants you to keep going. But, I can't help but wonder if it's because I've been holding back for too long."

Y/N chuckled, the sound deep and rich in his throat. "Don't flatter yourself, Yunjin," he said, his eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and desire. "It's not just you. I'm a man with needs, and you have a very... responsive body. It's like you're made to make me feel this good."

He leaned in for another kiss, his teeth grazing her bottom lip before delving back into her mouth. His hands roamed her body, squeezing and caressing, leaving trails of fire in their wake. She felt his cock pulse against her inner thigh, the head slick with her juices. The pressure was building inside her once again, a coil of need that threatened to snap.

"I don't have the stamina of a monster," he murmured against her neck, his breath hot and ragged. "But it's because of you, Yunjin. Your pussy is so fucking sensitive, so slutty. It's like it's begging for more."

Yunjin felt a blush creep up her neck, a mix of embarrassment and excitement. His words were crude, but the truth in them was undeniable. She had never been with someone who could make her feel like this, who could coax so much pleasure from her with such ease. Her body was his playground, and she was more than happy to let him explore every inch.

"Are you having enough of squirting, Yunjin?" he asked, his voice a low purr that sent shivers down her spine. She bit her lip, trying to form a coherent response. "I-I don't know," she stammered. "It's just... it's never been like this before."

Her eyes were indeed going blurry from the overwhelming sensations, and her mind was a haze of pleasure. Each squirt felt like a release of pent-up tension, a pressure valve letting out a flood of desire. "It's okay," she murmured, "keep going."

His strokes grew more erratic, his breath coming in harsh pants as he felt his own orgasm approaching. Yunjin could feel his cock swelling inside her, the head rubbing against her G-spot with each powerful thrust. She clutched at his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin, urging him on. Her pussy was a vice, squeezing him tightly with each contraction.

"I think I have enough of squirt," she gasped, her voice strained. "I can't take it anymore." Her mind was indeed a blank canvas, the only color being the overwhelming pleasure that consumed her. Her eyes were glazed over, the world around her fading to a blur as she focused solely on the feeling of his cock pounding into her.

"Where do you want me to cum, Yunjin?" he asked, his voice thick with lust. "In your mouth? On your tits? Or do you want me to fill your pussy up?"

"In my pussy," she breathed, her eyes fluttering open to meet his. The words were a declaration, a silent admission of the depth of her craving for him. She felt her pussy clench around his cock, her body begging for release.

Y/N groaned, his control slipping as he thrust into her with renewed vigor. He was a man on a mission, each stroke aimed at filling her to the brim. The car rocked in time with their movements, the windows steaming up as the night outside grew darker. His eyes were wild, his face a mask of pure, unbridled lust.

Yunjin's pussy clamped down on him, her muscles spasming with every thrust. She was close, so close to another mind-shattering climax. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps, her nails digging into his back as she urged him on. "Cum in me," she whispered, the words barely audible over the sound of their skin slapping together. "I want to feel it, all of it."

His eyes narrowed with determination. He pulled out, his cock slick with her juices, and flipped her onto her stomach. He spread her legs wide, exposing her pink, swollen pussy to the cool air of the car. With a growl, he plunged back in, his strokes frantic and wild. She was so tight, so wet, that every inch of him was coated in her squirt. The feeling was indescribable, a mix of pleasure and pressure that was driving him to the brink.

He knew he didn't have much time; the film crew would be looking for her soon. The thought only spurred him on, the thrill of the forbidden mixing with the need to mark her as his own. He reached under her, his hand finding her clit. He rubbed it in time with his thrusts, his fingers coated in her juices. The sound of her wetness filled the car, the slap of his hips against her ass a rhythm that matched the beat of the music outside.

Yunjin's squirts grew more frequent, her pussy gushing around his cock with every stroke. She was close, so close to the edge, but he wasn't going to let her fall over just yet. He wanted to feel her tighten around him as he came, to know that he had pushed her to the brink of pleasure and beyond.

With the powerful thrust, he hit her G-spot, and she let out a scream that was muffled by the seat. Her pussy clamped down on him like a vice, her juices spraying all over his cock and balls. Y/N could feel his orgasm building, the pressure in his balls growing to almost unbearable levels. He leaned over, his hand still working her clit as he whispered in her ear, "Take it all, baby. Take every drop."

Her pussy was a fountain of pleasure, a never-ending geyser of squirt that coated his cock with her desire. He could feel her muscles clench around him, her body begging for more. "Cum for me, Yunjin," he growled, his voice hoarse with need. "I want to feel you milk me dry."

With each stroke, she could feel herself getting closer to the edge, her body wound tight with anticipation. Her squirts had become a steady stream, soaking the car seat beneath her and making the leather stick to her skin. She gripped the edge of the seat, her knuckles white with the effort of holding on. "Fuck me, Y/N," she moaned, her voice a desperate plea. "Fuck me until you fill me up."

His grip on her hips tightened, his pace increasing. His cock was a relentless force, driving into her with a ferocity that left her breathless. She could feel his balls slapping against her ass, a delicious sensation that only added to the pressure building inside her. His breath grew ragged in her ear, his teeth nipping at her neck as he approached his climax. "I'm going to cum," he grunted, his voice strained with effort. "I'm going to fill you up."

Yunjin's body responded to his words, her pussy clenching around him like a fist. She could feel the hot pulse of his cock, the precursor to his release. The thought of his sperm filling her up was almost too much to bear, pushing her over the edge once again. Her squirts grew more intense, the car seat beneath her a soggy mess of desire.

With a final, powerful thrust, Y/N released, his hot cum spurting deep inside her. He groaned, his entire body tensing as he emptied himself into her welcoming depths. Yunjin felt the warmth spread through her, a feeling of completion that was as overwhelming as the orgasms that had come before. Her pussy spasmed around him, her squirt mixing with his cum in a delicious mess that coated his cock.

"I can feel it," she whispered, her voice shaky with pleasure. "Your sperm so full in my womb." The words sent a shiver down his spine, his cock twitching with the last remnants of his orgasm. He had never heard anything so erotic in his life, and the knowledge that he had claimed her so completely had him feeling like a king.

Yunjin's breath was indeed heavy and short, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Her eyes were glazed with desire, and her cheeks were flushed a deep shade of pink. She was a vision of beauty and wanton lust, and he couldn't believe she was all his. Slowly, he pulled out his cock, the sound of their mingled wetness filling the car.

He leaned back, his chest heaving, and watched her for a moment, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm. Then, with a smirk, he said, "Thanks, Y/N. I'll go back to shooting again."

His eyes lit up with a mischievous glint, and he reached out to grab her hand before she could move. "Hold on, it's not over yet, Yunjin," he murmured, his voice still thick with lust. "I want you to ride me this time."

With surprising agility, Yunjin repositioned herself above his lap.

Her legs trembled as she straddled him, his cock standing tall and proud, still slick with their combined juices. She bit her bottom lip, her eyes never leaving his as she reached down to guide him back inside her. The head of his cock nudged at her entrance, and she gasped at the feeling of fullness that washed over her again.

Without warning, Y/N grabbed her hips and pulled her down, impaling her on his shaft in one swift motion. Yunjin's eyes went wide, a high-pitched squeal escaping her lips as she felt him fill her up completely. The suddenness of it all was shocking, but oh so delicious. Her pussy clenched around him, eager to feel every inch of his length.

"Fuck," she screamed, her voice echoing in the small confines of the car. "You're so deep, it feels like you're hitting my womb."

Her body began to quiver, her legs shaking as she struggled to keep herself upright. She felt the pressure building again, the familiar sensation of an orgasm approaching. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she threw it back, her pussy spasming around his cock. He watched in amazement as she began to squirt once more, her juices drenching him and the car seat beneath them.

"Fuck," she moaned, her voice a mix of pleasure and disbelief. "That feels so good, Y/N. I love you."

The words hung in the air, a declaration that neither of them had expected. His eyes searched hers for any sign of doubt, but all he found was a mirror of the desire and affection that burned within him. He leaned in to kiss her, his mouth claiming hers in a fiery embrace that stole the very air from her lungs. "I love you too," he whispered, the words a gentle caress against her swollen lips.

With newfound determination, Yunjin began to ride him, her hips moving in a sensual dance that had his cock sliding in and out of her soaking wet pussy. She was a vision of beauty and passion, her breasts bouncing with each movement, her hair a wild cascade of silk that framed her flushed face. His hands roamed her body, his fingers digging into her hips as he guided her movements, urging her to take him deeper, to show him just how much she craved his touch.

Her eyes closed, her mouth formed a perfect O as she took him in, her walls tightening around him like a glove. She was in her element, her body moving with an instinctual rhythm that seemed to have been programmed just for this moment. And as she moved, her breasts swayed, begging for attention. He couldn't resist the temptation.

He leaned forward, capturing one of her nipples in his mouth, flicking it with his tongue. Yunjin's eyes shot open, her back arching as a fresh wave of pleasure crashed over her. He sucked hard, drawing a gasp from her, his teeth grazing the sensitive peak. She threw her head back, her long hair cascading down her back as she rode him with a newfound ferocity.

Her pussy spasmed around his cock, a fresh squirt of juices coating him as she neared another orgasm. With each movement, she could feel the pressure building, her body begging for release. His eyes never left hers, his gaze intense and unwavering as he watched her unravel. He knew she was close, and the anticipation was killing him.

He reached up, his hand wrapping around her neck in a gentle yet commanding grip. His thumb stroked the pulse point, feeling the rapid beat of her heart as she rode him. His other hand found its way to her clit, his fingers moving in a slow, deliberate circle. Each touch sent a jolt of pleasure through her body, making her squirt even more.

Her eyes snapped open when the sound of her phone ringing pierced through the haze of lust. It was the cameramen, their anxious voices crackling through the speaker. "Yunjin, where are you?" they called out, their words a stark reminder of the world outside their passionate bubble.

His eyes widened with excitement, his grip on her neck tightening ever so slightly. "Give me your phone," he murmured, his voice a dark promise. Without hesitation, Yunjin handed over the device, her eyes never leaving his.

He took the phone, a wicked smile playing on his lips as he accepted the call. "What's the problem, guys?" he said, his voice deceptively calm. On the screen, the cameramen's faces were a picture of frustration and worry. "Yunjin's just busy with another shoot right now, a porn shoot"

Yunjin's eyes widened in shock, but before she could protest, he flipped the phone to show her riding him, her mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure, her eyes rolled back in ecstasy. Her pussy was still spasming around his cock, and the sight of her in such an exposed and vulnerable position was too much for her to handle. She squirted again, her body betraying her in the most delicious way.

The cameramen's voices grew louder, their concern morphing into shock and excitement as they realized what was happening. He held the phone out, his thumb hovering over the speaker button. "Do you want them to hear you cum, Yunjin?" he whispered, his voice a seductive taunt. "Should we give them a little show?"

Yunjin's cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink, but she couldn't deny the thrill that shot through her at the thought of being watched, of having an audience to her pleasure. The phone vibrated in his hand, and she felt a new pressure building inside her. Her pussy was a furnace, the heat of their combined lust threatening to consume them both.

Her protests died on her lips as he pushed the button, the sounds of their passion now echoing through the phone's speaker. The cameramen's gasps and murmurs of approval were like a drug, making her body even more responsive to his touch. She could feel the camera's eyes on her, watching every move she made, and it only served to heighten her arousal.

Her pussy was a furnace, her squirts coming in a steady flow that soaked the car seat beneath them. Each stroke of his cock sent waves of pleasure crashing over her, and she could feel the tension building once more. Her body was a symphony of sensation, every nerve ending singing with desire. His hand remained firm on her neck, his grip just shy of painful, as he continued to pump into her with a ferocity that left her breathless.

Yunjin's eyes flickered to the phone, the sight of her fellow groupmates' faces watching her on screen only fueling her passion. She wanted to protest, to tell them to stop, but the words were lost in the haze of pleasure that consumed her. Instead, she leaned back, her breasts thrusting towards the camera, a silent invitation for them to watch. The thought of their eyes on her, seeing her in this vulnerable, wanton state, was a thrill she hadn't anticipated.

"I can't stop squirting, Y/N's dick is so big," she screamed, her voice raw with passion. Her pussy was a fountain around him, her juices glistening in the dim car light as they continued to fuck. The camera feed was a blur of skin and movement, a testament to the intensity of their encounter. His smile grew wider as he watched her reaction, his cock swelling even further at the sound of his name on her lips.

Her walls were tightening around him, each spurt of her orgasm gripping him like a glove, the sensation unlike anything he had ever felt. His own climax was approaching, but he held back, wanting to savor the feeling of her tightness, her wetness, her desperation for his cock. "Look at them," he murmured, tilting the phone so she could see the groupmates' faces, their eyes wide with shock and excitement. "They're watching you, Yunjin. They know how much of a slut you are for me."

Her eyes went wide with a mix of mortification and arousal, and she threw her head back, her breasts bouncing with each thrust as she screamed out his name. "Y/N, your dick is so big, I can't stop squirting," she moaned, the words a desperate plea for more. The camera crew's voices grew louder, their encouragement spurring them on like a twisted cheering squad. The thrill of being watched was intoxicating, a heady mix of power and vulnerability that had her pussy contracting around him with renewed force.

His hand tightened around her neck, his other hand now gripping her hip, guiding her movements with a roughness that she found oddly reassuring. He was in control, and she was his to take. Her breath hitched as she felt another orgasm building, the pressure in her abdomen growing to a crescendo. "Do it," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "Make me cum for them."

He didn't need any further encouragement. With a savage growl, he bucked his hips up, his cock slamming into her with a force that made her entire body shake. The car rocked with the intensity of their lovemaking, the windows fogging up completely as the outside world was forgotten. The music from the set outside had turned into a faint background melody, a rhythmic pulse that matched the beating of their hearts.

Yunjin's pussy was a vice around him, her muscles rippling and spasming as she squirted over and over. He could feel the heat of her, the tightness of her, the way she clung to him like a lifeline as he brought her closer to the edge. His strokes grew deeper, more powerful, each one pushing her closer to the brink. And as she watched the stunned faces of her groupmates on the screen, she realized that she didn't care.

Her body was his playground, and she was more than willing to perform for their eager eyes. The knowledge that they were watching, that they could see her in this raw, primal state, only served to make her more desperate for his cum. She braced herself, her hands gripping the headrest as she bounced on his cock, her juices soaking them both.

He could feel his orgasm approaching again, the tension in his balls almost painful. He watched the screen, the sight of her squirting for their cameramen's eyes making him growl with possessive lust. His hand moved to her clit, his fingers working it with the precision of a maestro, bringing her closer to the crescendo that would match his own.

"When I cum, you squirt for me," he said, his voice a dark promise. His words sent a shiver through her body, her pussy clenching around him in anticipation. He knew she was close, her breathing had turned into pants, and her eyes were squeezed shut as she rode him.

"Yes," she moaned, her voice barely a whisper. "I'll squirt for you, Y/N. I'll show everyone how much I want you." The idea of being so open, so exposed, was terrifying, but she couldn't deny the thrill it brought. Her body was no longer her own; it was a vessel for his pleasure.

He leaned in, his teeth grazing her earlobe as he whispered, "Good girl." His hand tightened on her neck, his other hand guiding her hips to match his rhythm. She could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles flexed with each powerful thrust. His cock was a steel rod inside her, filling her completely, stretching her to the point of pain and back to pleasure again.

"Fuck, your pussy's so tight," he groaned, his voice a mix of awe and lust. "I'm going to cum deep inside you, mark you as mine." The words were like a spell, and she felt herself respond, her pussy clamping down around him as if to pull him closer. "Fuckk ur cum is so good, Y/N," she panted, her words a desperate plea for more.

With a growl, he thrust into her one last time, his cock pulsing with his orgasm. She felt his warm seed spurt into her, filling her up to the brim. The sensation was overwhelming, and she let out a scream that was part pleasure, part pain, part love. Her pussy contracted around him, milking every drop from his cock, and she squirted once more, the force of it so strong it sprayed onto the car windows.

Y/N pulled out of her, his cock glistening with their combined fluids. He was still hard, still eager, but he knew that this was a moment to savor. He leaned back in his seat, panting, and pointed the camera at her soaking wet pussy. The sight was obscene, beautiful, and utterly intoxicating. Yunjin's eyes widened with shock as she realized what he was doing, but she couldn't find it in herself to be embarrassed. Instead, she lay back against the car seat, her legs spread wide, and allowed him to film her in all her post-coital glory.

"Look what I've done to Yunjin," he said, his voice filled with a dark satisfaction that sent a shiver down her spine. "You're so fucking beautiful when you squirt." He leaned in, capturing her mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue delving deep to taste the remnants of their shared passion. The phone was still recording, the camera capturing every moment of their intimacy, broadcasting it to their unknowing groupmates and crew.

Her makeup was indeed a mess, smudged and running down her cheeks in rivulets. Her hair was a tangled mess around her face, a wild halo of desire that framed her flushed features. Yunjin couldn't help the feeling of pride that swelled within her; she was his creation, a masterpiece of lust that no one else could claim. Her pussy was still gaping, the 'O' of her lips swollen and red from his relentless attention. And she could feel his cum, thick and warm, slowly leaking out of her, a testament to their shared climax.

The phone in his hand was forgotten for a moment, the live feed still broadcasting their intimate moments to the shocked crew. The cameramen stared, slack-jawed, at the screen, their eyes glued to the sight of Yunjin's squirt-soaked pussy. The other groupmates had gathered around, a mix of horror and fascination playing across their faces as they watched their manager claim her in such a primal way.

The members of Lesserafim voice was the first to break the silence, thier eyes glued to the phone. "Yunjin, can we get fucked like you?" Their murmured, their voice filled with awe. The question hung in the air, thick with the scent of desire and curiosity. Yunjin's heart skipped a beat as she stared at the screen, her thoughts racing. The idea of sharing this intense pleasure with her group was both terrifying and exhilarating.

With a smoldering gaze, Yunjin leaned into the camera, her voice a seductive purr. "Of course all of you can," she said, her words dripping with promise. She watched as the shock on their faces turned to excitement, their eyes sparkling with the same hunger she felt.

He smirked, his hand sliding down to her still-quivering pussy. "But not until we're done here," he added, his thumb swiping through the mess they had made together. He could feel her tense up at the thought of sharing, but the excitement was palpable.

"Look at me, baby," he whispered, his eyes locked on hers as he brought his hand to his mouth, tasting her juices. "You're so fucking sweet." He knew that she was watching him, could feel her gaze on him as he licked his thumb clean, savoring her taste. The thought of her grop wanting a taste too only made him harder.

The cameramen's shouts grew louder, their voices a cacophony of lust and excitement. "Yeah, we want a turn!" one of them called out. "Please, let us fuck her too!"

His smirk widened, his eyes darkening with a predatory glint. He knew he had her full attention, and the power he wielded was a heady aphrodisiac. He turned to Yunjin, his voice a seductive whisper. "They want you," he said, his hand still playing with her sensitive folds. "Should we give them what they want?".

#yunjin smut #le sserafim #le sserafim smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #male reader

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ferrstappen · 13 days ago

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dad of three l dad! max verstappen imagine

a/n: sooo max is officially a dad 😭😭 so I picked up the draft of my dad!Max series with the twins which you can find here! I hope you like it and let me m ow if you have some ideas!

summary: baby verstappen nº3 is here, and the twins are now happy with the idea.

It had been a quiet morning, at least by the new Verstappen household standards.

The Monaco penthouse, usually alive with the squabbling of six-year-old twins and the occasional feline disaster, was unusually peaceful. The cause of this rare tranquility? The arrival of Baby Lia had everyone mesmerized, literally and metaforically having everyone wrapped around her little finger.

Youcradled the newborn in your arms, gently rocking her in the nursery Max had insisted on painting himself. Pale pink walls, soft grey furniture, and a mobile of tiny stars that the twins helped assemble.

“You’re not even crying today,” you murmured, brushing a soft kiss on Lia’s forehead. “It’s like you know I needed a break, what a smart baby, yes you are.”

Footsteps padded down the hallway, fast and energetic. Then came the crash of something toppling over. The twins ready to disrupt the quiet.

“Mila!” Luca’s voice rang out, shrill and dramatic. “You almost dropped her bunny!”

“It’s not my fault Jimmy knocked it down!” Mila huffed back.

You sighed, smiling despite the quiet moment gone. The calm had lasted exactly twelve minutes.

You stepped into the hallway with Lia, just in time to see Jimmy dart out from under the baby’s toy box with a fluff of pink clutched between his teeth.

“Mama!” Mila wailed, dramatic tears already forming. “Jimmy stole Lia’s bunny!”

“Yes, because you dropped it, Mila!” Luca reprimanded his twin.

Before you could intervene, Max’s voice boomed from the kitchen. “Jimmy! No stealing from the baby!”

Max appeared, wearing sweatpants, a Red Bull hoodie, and holding two sippy cups. He looked equally amused and tired. parenthood in a nutshell.

“Crisis averted?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“I think Jimmy wants attention,” you replied, bouncing Lia gently. “He’s jealous, he probably thought it was only going to be the twins forever.”

Max chuckled, scooping up the cat and plopping him into Luca’s arms. “That’s what happens when you’ve ruled the house for years. Then babies come and steal your spotlight. Tough life.”

“And what about Sassy?” You asked Max.

Max glanced toward the back of the couch where Sassy lounged with the disinterest of a feline queen, which of course she was. “She’s plotting our demise, probably.”

You snorted, the vibrations of your body earning a smile from Lia.

The twins came running, now united in their mission: cooing at their baby sister.

“Can I hold her again?” Mila asked, reaching for Lia’s tiny hand.

“No, me first!” Luca insisted, already positioning the couch pillows for support just like Max had shown them.

You sighed again, this time with a full heart. You remembered the day you told the twins about the pregnancy, Luca had declared he didn’t want “a baby stealing his toys,” and Mila had spent the afternoon sulking because “babies are boring.” And both of them had tried really hard to stop the baby’s arrival.

Now? They were obsessed.

It was later that weekend in Miami when Max found himself being cornered in the paddock for an interview with Sky Sports Netherlands.

“So Max,” the interview began in Dutch, “congratulations again on the new addition to the family! How are things going at home with three kids now?”

Max grinned, hands in his pockets. “Chaotic. Loud. Exhausting… Perfect.”

The interviewer laughed. “And the twins? How are Mila and Luca adjusting? I remember they weren’t too pumped when we crossed paths a few months ago.”

Max didn’t hesitate. “Honestly? I thought they’d hate it. When we told them (Y/N) was pregnant, Luca wanted to move out.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Mila made us sign a paper saying we’d still play Barbie games with her even after the baby came. They were so in denial that we got a call from their teacher.”

The small group of journalists laughed.

“But now?” Max continued. “They’re obsessed. They follow Lia around like bodyguards. Luca brings her toys she can’t even use, Mila sings to her. They fight about who gets to hold her. I think I’ve held her less than both of them.”

“And the cats?” The interviewer teased. “I hear Jimmy and Sassy have opinions.

“Oh, Jimmy’s a menace. He tries to sleep in the crib,” Max said, his tone fond. “Sassy’s smarter, she gives Lia a five-foot radius. She watches from a distance like she’s evaluating her for royal court or something which is very entertaining.”

There was more laughter.

“Sounds like a full house.”

Max nodded. “It is. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

Back home, the house was quieter than usual.

With Max in Miami, you were managing the trio on your own. Your mother had offered to stay, but you politely declined, liking the rhythm and evolving routine; early mornings with Lia after the twins left to school, midday chaos with the twins, and long, quiet evenings watching Max on the TV while feeding the baby.

You curled onto the couch, baby Lia nestled in a wrap on your chest, Mila curled up beside you, and Luca was completely knocked out from building a Lego fortress with a secret baby princess chamber, which he assured was for both Lia and Mila.

Max’s interview played in the background. “Luca wanted to move out,” Max said on the screen, laughing.

You giggled, watching Luca’s face twitch in sleep as if he’d heard his name.

The moment made your heart ache with pride and love.

Two days later, Max came home.

The door opened quietly, he’d learned not to make noise just in case Lia was sleeping, but before he could take a step in, Mila barreled into him.

“Papa!” she squealed.

Max laughed, lifting her with one arm and dropping his bag with the other. Luca followed, hugging Max’s waist.

You appeared at the end of the hall, holding Lia with one hand and balancing a bottle in the other. “Hello babe, the house didn’t burn down.”

He met you halfway, kissing you deeply, letting his hand rest over Lia’s tiny head. “Missed you,” he whispered on your lips.

“She missed you too. She kept staring at the TV every time you talked.”

“She’s a Verstappen, she knows good racing.” Max bragged, a habit he picked since the twins were born was now at its peak after the birth of Lia. “Plus, she was conceived the night I won the fourth so she knows what’s good.” Max whispered the last part so the twins wouldn’t hear.

Later that night, the five of you, cats included, were on the bed.

Mila had brought her blanket, Luca had brought snacks which were promptly confiscated by Max. Jimmy snuggled into Max’s feet while Sassy stared at the baby with mild disapproval.

Lia gurgled softly between you, wearing a pale pink Red Bull onesie Max had been gifted by the team.

“I can’t believe we made her,” you whispered, resting your head against his shoulder.

“I know,” he whispered back, brushing his thumb along Lia’s little hand. “She’s perfect.”

“I was so scared,” you admitted. “I thought adding another baby would ruin the balance and let’s be honest, we never really thought about having another baby, we were just desperate to celebrate your championship.” You giggled, remembering the night.

Max turned to you, cupping your cheek. “You were right to be scared. But we didn’t ruin anything. We just… added more love.”

Luca yawned. “Papa, can Lia come to the next race?”

Max smiled. “Not yet, buddy. But soon.”

Mila curled next to her mother. “She needs earmuffs with her name printed, like the ones we use when we go see daddy race.”

“She’ll have them,” Max promised. “We’ll get her baby-sized ones.”

You smiled, the warmth in your chest spreading like sunlight.

“I know we have enough but… I think we need a new cat.” Max proposed.

You snorted. “Excuse me?”

Max shrugged. “It’s only fair! The twins have Jimmy and Sassy, Lia deserves her own.” Your husband worked his beautiful blue eyes on you.

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow.” You said, knowing this fight was already lost.

“Mila was also talking about a puppy after meeting Leo.”

“Max!”

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x you #dad!max verstappen #max verstappen fic #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen au #max verstappen fluff #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fic #max verstappen

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jinwoosbabyboo · 6 months ago

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Don't Panic

The lads men finding you asleep with your child in your arm while you were trying to feed them. You're a first time mom you're not going to be perfect. A/N: This is a mommy mc if you're uncomfortable with the idea of mommy mc this is your warning [Requested by: who-mentioned-rhys-larsen]

Summary: You were a first time mom and motherhood was the hardest hood you’ve ever lived in. Even with your husband doing his fatherly duties you were still exhausted. You checked the time on your watch and noticed it was feeding time. You hoisted your baby into your arms and sat down on the bed to breast-feed. You blinked rapidly trying to keep yourself awake “I’ll nap when you’re done eating” You said more so to yourself rather than the baby when suddenly …. you woke up. When did you doze off? The sun was up last time you checked now it's dark out. Where’s the baby? Oh shit where’s the baby!?

Zayne

Zayne came home to find you curled up with your child who was snoring quietly while you held them snuggly in your arms. He picked your babygirl up careful not to wake you and moved her to the adjoining nursery. She squirmed a little at the loss of warmth, but calmed down once Zayne swaddled her.

A few hours later…

MC: ZAYNE!

Zayne: Darling stop yelling before you wake the baby

MC: Where is she?? I fell asleep while feeding her oh fuck im a terrible mom

Zayne grabs you by the shoulders

Zayne: Breathe my love she’s fine I put her in her bed

MC: *teary-eyed* did I hurt her?

You dropped your gaze feeling your heart shatter at the thought of hurting your child

Zayne: You had her held safely in your arms she’s fine go look

You rushed to the nursery to find your babygirl in a peaceful slumber. A wave of relief washed through you causing you to fall to your knees.

MC: I won't let that happen again

Zayne: Go get some sleep my love you’ve earned it I'll take care of the baby

MC: but-

Zayne: You’ll be no good sleep-deprived go rest

Rafayel

MC: WHERE ARE THEY?

You rush out into the living room after tearing your room apart looking for your babies

Rafayel: Quiet down. Why are you yelling?

MC: I CANT FIND THE TWINS

Rafayel: You lost our kids?

MC: I-I accidentally fell asleep and and and when I woke up they were gone I-I-I omg im the worst mom alive

Rafayel: Are these two not ours?

You walk around the couch to find them each fast asleep, one laying in his lap and the other sprawled out next to him on a blanket.

MC: I should punch you in the jaw fuck I think I just had a heart attack thats not funny

Rafayel: I found you asleep in the bedroom with your titty out

MC: Well thats embarrassing

Rafayel: It was a nice surprise … This baby shark was trying to climb on you when I came in

Rafayel said pointing to your baby boy who was drooling all over his lap

Rafayel: and this little sea snail was curled up next to you

Rafayel placed his hand on the tummy of your babygirl

MC: I’m glad they're safe

You sighed, relieved that your babies were fine

Rafayel: You should probably go do that pumping thing you always do …. you’re leaking

MC: Shit!

Rafayel: My little leaky faucet

MC: Please put your top and bottom lip together

Xavier

You sat up quickly almost head butting Xavier who was standing over you

Xavier: Whoa you should change your shirt you have spit up on this one

MC: Where's the baby!?

Xavier: I just put him in his crib

MC: Is he okay? I didn’t roll over on him did I? Was he breathing?

Xavier: Yes. No. and Yes.

Xavier began removing your shirt

MC: Wait wait I need to see our son

Xavier: Okay but lets change your shirt first

MC: No—I need—-Xav move

You end up wrestling Xavier who’s just trying to get you out of your soiled shirt. He manages to slip it off and you dart out of the room with no shirt. You quietly make your way in the nursery and see your baby boy sleeping soundly. Man he looks so much like his dad it’s crazy.

Xavier: Here. *pulls a shirt over your head*

MC: Thanks Xav Im sorry I was just so scared

Xavier: I understand ... now according to Jenna since the baby is down you should get some rest too let’s go

MC: Are you going to nap with me?

Xavier: Jeremiah was in the living room when you ran through to get to our son

MC: Did he see.....?

Xavier: He won't remember even if he did

MC: JEREMIAH IM SORRY

Sylus

MC: WHERE IS SHE??

Kieran: Calm down

Luke: You’ll wa—

MC: DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN

Sylus: She’s right here

You turn to see Sylus holding your baby girl in his arms. She's playfully tugging on his necklace while he continuously moves her little hand away.

MC: Mommy is so sorry baby …. did I hurt her? I didn’t mean to fall asleep

Sylus: You’re going to make yourself sick with all this worrying

MC: I just fell asleep with our child in my arms that seems like grounds to worry Sylus

Sylus: She was fast asleep on your chest and you had your arm wrapped around her

MC: It’s still dangerous

Sylus: and yet she’s fine live and learn sweetie everything will be fine

MC: It’s like my third day out here okay im still learning this mom shit

Sylus: Rule number 1 don’t cuss in front of the baby

MC: Oh shut up

Sylus: Rule number 2 don’t be rude to her dad

MC: Anything else?

Sylus: Rule number 3 dont forget to pump

You look down and realize you have two wet patches on your shirt

MC: Shit!

Sylus: Rule number 1—

MC: Shut it!

#love and deepspace #sylus love and deepspace #sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lads #lads rafayel #lads xavier #lads zayne #lnds #lnds zayne #lnds xavier #lnds rafayel #lads sylus #zayne love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #nikaaaaimagine

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starstruckbich · 2 months ago

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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ you want Caitlyn's praise

summary: you love getting your general's praise, in any way.

tags: 18+ mdni men dni sub! female reader, dom!caitlyn, obsessed!reader, slightly pervy!reader, lingerie, praising kink, fingering, hair pulling, strap-on usage, dacriphylia.

note: after vi theres caitlyn smut obvii, anyways this one is my second time writing and to be clear this is for women loving girlies with mommy issues. hope you enjoy!

Your childhood was messed up.

Your parents made you literally want to run away and never come back, belittling everything you accomplished. So you did.

At first it was hard training to be a soldier for Piltover. You didn't exactly have the perfect skills for the job, but nobody does, right? Wrong. Everyone around you suceeded in training but you always struggled, so if you wanted to run away before, you wanted to die now from so much embarassment.

Everyone noticed it too. You were like a lost little puppy, earning laughs from your colleagues, and although they didn't mean any harm, it brought you down.

But everything changed when Caitlyn Kiramman became your general. And GOD what a woman.

Her movements were precise and clean, the sweat running down her skin as she trained and her blue eyes narrowed from tiredness. But most importantly, she was gentle with you, patient, guiding you. And every time you had to resist the urge to bite your lip.

You were so down bad that you started fighting better, staying in and practicing until you could pass out, winning your spars.

Everytime Caitlyn smiled at you it made want to scream in excitement, and every time she praised you, god just- obscene thoughts. You would do anything to make her eyes land on you, and only you (who is that little ginger bitch that's always trying to please her anyway?).

So when Cait started getting close to you, you felt like the luckiest woman alive, and also really down bad, which she notices.

So now, thanks to you not being able to control your mouth today during training with all your bottom lip biting and your "did i do good?" phrases, you are in her bed, in nothing more than a pretty lingerie set.

"C-Cait this is too much..." Oh you LOVED being in her bed, but you felt exposed in lingerie. However, all your concerns went out the window when Caitlyn joins you in her bed, getting on top of you and holding you in her arms as she kisses your neck.

"Mm... But you look adorable..." She mumbles, her signature british accent you loved coming out with her elegant voice.

Of course, you being absolutely down bad for her, liked that comment a lot. "I do? You like it on me? Do i look-"

She shuts you up with a kiss on the lips, then moves to your neck again, then collarbone, then your chest, causing you to let out a few whines.

Soon enough her hands move your pretty blue panties aside, and you're so wet that the sheets immediately start getting soaked, making Caitlyn widen her eyes in amusement for a second.

"I didn't know I made you this excited..." She says, a smug look on her face, although it is a sweet one. She holds your leg up with one of her arms, coming up to kiss your cheek as pushes two fingers inside of you, not slowly, because even though she tried, her little slut is just too wet.

"A-ah~!" You let out a whiny moan, hearing breathing in your ear as she streches you out. You can't help but clench around her fingers, thinking of all the times you fantasized about her fucking you stupid.

Cait just thinks you're so cute. Your whines, your neediness, the way your body is always desperate to feel her more and more. She also loves those bottom lip bites you give yourself as you take her fingers in.

"you're doing good darling, just... Open those legs for me..." Yes ma'am! Her wish is your command. She pumps her fingers in more with the access you give her, knuckles deep, faster. It's enough to leave you so worked up.

"A-ah! Ah!" You moan, accidentally pulling on your general's hair. "Shit, m'sorry!"

"It's okay, do it..." And unfortunately you really can't stop doing it, feeling her slender fingers hitting that sweet, sweet spot, a pervy smile coming up on your face for a few seconds by how thrilled you are, that you're in her bed, getting praised by her, and no one can do anything about it.

Once she feels that you're ready, she pulls her fingers out. You're already a mess, fingers still intertwined with her hair as if you're scared she's going to disappear, heavy breathing, sweating, flushed face...

Soon enough, she's pressing you into the matress, fucking into you with her blue strap. Her plastic cock is long, but comfortable enough not to hurt you. She knows what she's doing so she wouldn't anyways.

Of course, you're even worse now. Holding onto the sheets tightly, messy hair, oh right, and a fucking siren. The sounds you make are just goddamn unholy as you feel her strap fucking into you, slamming in and out and doing it all over again. It's music to Caitlyn's ears.

"A-AH! I cant take it i cant! Mh!" You know you can. Fuck you could take it more 7 rounds. You shake your head, but Cait keeps fucking into you, kissing your face.

"You're so adorable darling, you're taking me so well... There we go, spread them for me... So beautiful."

Is she trying to make you come fast? Because it's working. God you feel like a whore but there's not one hint of regret in your mind or body, the way you're sucking her up.

You're so wet that even with the fulness of the straps your fluids are dripping out. Oh you could do this every night no doubt.

"G-general! Please! M' gonna cum!" The way you say general instead of her name turns her on even more, going faster agaisnt your g-spot.

"You can come sweetheart, ngh..." She moves your legs, tilting them even more upward, making you scream. Before you even realize it, you're letting out little cries, overstimulated.

This is heaven and she's your angel. There's fluids practically gushing out of you, your general's thighs getting soaked in your arousal.

"Fuck fuck fuck yess!" You let out a final loud moan, cumming on Caitlyn's strap, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"Good girl..." She gives little thrusts, then slowly pulls out of you, watching as your pretty little pussy gushes out that sticky white liquid.

She kisses your cheeks, feeling the saltiness of your tears on her lips as she holds you, huffing.

"You really like praise, don't you..."

#arcane #caitlyn kiramman #lesbian #arcane smut #wlw #fem!reader #dom! cait #strappon #praise k!nk #shes so pretty

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enticingmelanin · 11 days ago

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Savor: A Modern Smoke x Annie Fanfic

Savor || Elijah "Smoke" Moore x Annie (modern au)

Rating: E for Erotic.

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING!!! Implied miscarriage, NSFW, Smut, and Explicit Language. 18+ Only.

Word Count: 4k+

Summary: Annie is a master in the kitchen, curating every dish on her restaurant’s menu to leave diners lingering over every bite, craving more. But when a chance reunion with an old flame ignites dormant feelings, the heat shifts from the stove to something far more intimate. By the end of the night, it’s Annie who’s being savored...

· · ──── ·𖥸· ──── · ·· · ──── ·𖥸· ──── · ·· · ───── ·𖥸· ──── · ·

Chicago was alive and well on Saturday morning. The city buzzed with its usual rhythm—horns in the distance, heels clacking against pavement, the hiss of early buses. Sunlight spilled between high-rises like honey, catching the glint of Lake Michigan in the distance. The air was crisp, laced with the promise of spring, and downtown pulsed with movement.

And nestled in the heart of it all, in a quaint, Black-owned café, Annie was thriving.

The scent of rich espresso, caramel, cinnamon, and freshly baked pastries curled through the space like a warm embrace. Muffled conversations mingled in the air—first dates, business meetings, friends catching up—all blending into a sweet melody. Annie soaked it in. Her senses were alive in the best way, tuned to the sounds and smells she knew so well. This was her happy place and a reflection of her own success.

As a girl from a small town in Mississippi, this life once felt like a dream too far away. But here she was, head chef and owner of one of Chicago’s must-visit restaurants—Zariah's—beloved by locals and tourists alike. She wasn’t just living her dream—she was serving it.

With her caramel macchiato in hand—two pumps of brown sugar, just the way she liked it—she made her way toward the door, coat swinging behind her in haste. But the moment she pushed it open, she collided with something—or rather, someone—solid.

Her drink nearly spilled, but before gravity could do its worst, strong hands caught her by the waist and arm, steadying her with practiced ease.

"Lawd, I’m so sorry," she blurted, her Southern twang slipping out naturally.

"Nah, I oughta be apologizin’," came a deep, smooth baritone.

They both laughed—soft and surprised—and then her eyes lifted.

Deep, dark chocolate met something achingly familiar. Eyes she hadn’t seen in years, but had never quite forgotten. Her breath caught in her throat.

“Annie?” That voice—tinged with that familiar Mississippi drawl—pulled her further into the moment.

Her brows furrowed as recognition struck. “S-Smoke?” she said, disbelief and wonder laced in her voice.

“Sho is.” He stepped back slowly, taking her in with a smile that warmed the air between them. “Small world. Look at you.”

And look he did. His eyes roamed over her like a slow caress. Her full, 4C afro framed her face like a crown—coily, moisturized, and unapologetically bold. Her luminous skin, deep and glowing with melanin-rich warmth, glistened against the soft morning light. High cheekbones, full lips, and eyes that still carried secrets met him with equal intensity. Her open tan trench coat revealed a seafoam green maxi dress hugging her curves just right, its neckline generous to her bosom, its hem floating around matching heels that kissed the pavement.

She gave a soft, incredulous smile. “Me? Look at you. You ain’t aged a day.”

Elijah—Smoke—grinned. The years had been good to him. The boy she remembered had become a man forged in discipline and distance. His deep bronze skin was smooth and radiant, his jaw square and lined with a neatly groomed beard. His lips were full, his smile disarming, and his eyes—still sharp, still watchful—were just as she remembered. A light gray sweater hugged his muscular frame, and black slacks fit him like they’d been tailored with reverence.

Whatever life had done to him, it had carved him into something quietly powerful.

He chuckled low, the sound soaked in that Southern warmth. “Guess we both clean up real nice. How you been, girl?”

Annie grinned, her voice sliding in like sweet honey. “I’m good. Busy, but good. How ‘bout you?”

He tilted his head slightly, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I can see that. Doin’ good. Still tryin’ to slow life down a little, but y’know how that goes.”

She nodded knowingly. “Oh, I do. Life don’t wait for nobody.”

“I don’t wanna keep you,” he added, though the regret in his tone said otherwise. “But we should catch up soon.”

Annie’s lips quirked with a spark of mischief. An idea bloomed like a flower in her mind. “Well, I gotta get to my restaurant to start preppin’. We’re booked up tonight, but if you come by after closin’, I can have some dishes set aside for you… if you’re free, of course.”

Smoke blinked, a little taken aback but clearly proud of the woman in front of him. “I’d be a fool to say no to your cookin’,” he said with a slow smirk.

They exchanged numbers quickly, fingers brushing as they handed off phones. It felt easy. Natural. Like no time had passed at all.

Their hug was short, but the kind that lingered after release. Familiar. Comfortable. Full of things unspoken.

“See you tonight, Smoke,” she murmured against his shoulder.

“Lookin’ forward to it.”

And as they turned to head in opposite directions, both couldn’t help but glance back.

A spark had been rekindled.

The night promised more than just food—it promised memories, and maybe even something new.

As the last satisfied stomachs exited the building, Annie was in the back of the kitchen preparing for Smoke’s arrival.

The clock struck ten and a jolt of nerves hit her square in the chest. Would he be impressed? Would he still like her cooking? These questions had never once crossed her mind before—until now. She never expected to be reconnected with her first love… and the father of their unborn child.

She paused, letting out a slow breath, shaking the thought away as she placed the last dash of cinnamon on a warm, golden slice of peach cobbler.

"Hey, Annie," came Jonathan’s voice through a crack in the heavy kitchen doors. "There’s a gentleman here for you. Elijah, I think."

A smile bloomed on her face instantly. "Thanks, Jon. Can you seat him at the booth closest to the kitchen? I’ll take care of him. Y’all have a great night—see ya Monday."

"You too, boss," he called back, as the kitchen doors swung shut behind him.

Annie turned to the oven, sliding dishes inside to keep warm before kicking off her worn kitchen flats and slipping into the seafoam heels from earlier. She pulled off her chef’s coat, revealing the same curve-hugging maxi dress beneath. Using her phone’s camera as a mirror, she checked her reflection—makeup intact, not a single coil of hair out of place, her deep, glowing skin kissed by the overhead lights. After a fresh swipe of pink-tinted gloss and a deep breath, she stepped out.

As she pushed through the swinging door, her eyes immediately met Elijah’s. He was already standing, his attention drawn to her like gravity. His smile was instant, bright and warm.

"Well don’t you look plucked straight outta GQ?" she teased as she walked toward him.

His presence was unshakable, the kind that didn’t need to raise its voice to demand a room's attention. He had changed into a tailored charcoal pinstripe suit that clung to his broad shoulders and tapered waist, he looked dapper. The subtle glint of a diamond stud in his ear caught the light just enough to remind you—he knew exactly who he was.

"Aye, had to match your beauty," he replied, drawing her into a soft embrace and planting a kiss on her cheek.

Butterflies hovered in her stomach at the simple gesture. "Thank you," she whispered.

They pulled apart slowly, the air charged, as he glanced around the restaurant with admiration. "This place looks incredible. You really doin’ it big, huh?"

Low jazz and smooth R&B swirled through the air from hidden speakers, a soft soundtrack to the calm night. The warm glow of ambient lighting danced across sweeping wooden waves that spread along the ceiling like a living sculpture. Plush velvet chairs in deep rust and charcoal hues hugged round tables dressed in white linen. Glass walls offered a peek into the open kitchen she loved so much. A soft, earthy aroma lingered in the air with a hint of rich vanilla. Dried pampas grass stood tall in artful arrangements, giving the space a luxurious charm.

She followed his gaze, pride welling in her chest. "I guess I am. Sometimes, I get so caught up in the hustle, I forget to take it all in. But I love what I do."

"Well, you’re gonna have to soak up some compliments tonight. ‘Cause I ain’t holdin’ back, especially once I taste this food."

She laughed gently, heart warming with his presence. "Speakin’ of, what can I get you to drink? I ain’t no bartender, but I can whip somethin’ up."

Smoke tilted his head in thought. "Surprise me."

With a nod, she turned and headed to the bar while he settled into the booth. The clinking of glass and the soft shuffle of bottles filled the air as she crafted their drinks. Moments later, she returned with two glasses.

"Now, I take you for a whiskey man, so... whiskey sour for you. And a cosmopolitan for me," she said, placing the drinks on the table with a wink.

He took a sip, nodding in approval. "Thank you, beautiful," he murmured, the praise warm on his tongue.

Annie smiled and excused herself again, disappearing into the kitchen. She emerged moments later, expertly balancing a tray with a steaming bowl of gumbo over rice, a side of collard greens, and a thick slice of honey-glazed cornbread. The aroma alone was enough to make mouths water.

She placed the meal in front of him with a flourish.

A low whistle escaped his lips. "I know this ain’t what I think it is."

Annie laughed and slid into the booth beside him. "Sure is. Mama’s gumbo recipe. Just added my own lil twist. Go on—tell me what ya think."

He looked at her for a beat, then took a spoonful, blowing gently before taking the bite. His eyes shut as the flavor hit his tongue. The broth was rich and complex, shrimp and chicken tender, sausage savory, the holy trinity of vegetables cooked to perfection.

"Annie..." he breathed, his voice dipped in nostalgia and pleasure. He took another bite, then chuckled with a shake of his head. "You just took me back in time. Your mama, God rest her soul, might’ve just been beat. You put your foot in that, girl."

She threw her head back in laughter, heart full. "Happy to hear it. I aim to please."

His satisfied hums and low moans of approval filled the space between them as he moved between spoonfuls and bites of cornbread and greens. Annie watched with pride and something else stirring deep in her chest.

They talked as he ate, falling into a rhythm so natural it felt like no time had passed at all. The air between them was warm and relaxed as the hum of R&B and jazz classics filled the atmosphere.

Annie sipped her cosmopolitan as she shared her journey. "After Mama passed four years ago, I moved in with Aunt Renee for a bit. Took some time to get my head right. Then one day, I just… went for it. Applied for a business loan, pitched my concept to anyone who’d listen, and somehow convinced a bank to believe in me. Been full nearly every night since opening."

Smoke’s brows rose with admiration. "That's real. I knew you always had that fire in you."

She smiled, a bit bashful under the glow of his praise. "I guess I got it honest. Mama didn’t raise no fool."

He chuckled and lifted his glass. "Cheers to her."

They clinked glasses, taking a quiet sip in her honor before he leaned back in the booth, his deep voice laced with pride. "I been up to some things, too. Did my time in the Army, got my bachelor’s in accounting after that. Then a master’s in business. I’m doin’ good—real good. But I came up to Chicago ‘cause I wanted more. Bigger. Better."

She tilted her head, curious. "So what’s next for Mr. Bigger and Better?"

He grinned. "Me, Stack, and Sammie are openin’ a jazz and cigar lounge out here."

Her face lit up. "Oh my God, that's great! Sammie still play?"

"Hell yeah," he said with a nod. "That boy’s gonna tear the house down. He’s been killin’ it at some local joints, but we want him to have his own permanent spot. It's a family thing. We’re namin’ it Pearline’s, after his girl."

Annie gasped, eyes wide. "What!? Him and Pearline got together?"

"Stuck like glue," Smoke said with a grin. "They’ll probably be next down the aisle. Stack and Mary just eloped last week—still off on their honeymoon, but they’ll be back soon."

She placed a hand to her chest, heart swelling. "Wow. I’m so happy for them. Look at Stack... all grown up and settlin’ down."

Smoke’s eyes lingered on her, his gaze deep and sincere. "Yeah... well, love’ll do that to you. Don’t matter how old or new it is. I should know."

A stillness crept between them, quiet but potent. Annie’s heart skipped at the weight of his words, at the truth hiding beneath them.

"Smoke—" she began softly, but he cut her off gently.

"I owe you an apology, Annie."

She shook her head slowly, her throat tight. "You don't have to—"

"But I do, darlin’." His voice was low and raw as he reached across the table and took her hands in his, thumbs brushing small, soothing circles against her skin. "I didn’t handle shit right. Losin’ our baby... it tore me up more than I ever let on. And instead of dealin’ with it with you, like I should’ve... I ran. I left you holdin’ all that pain on your own. You deserved better than that. Way better. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry."

Tears shimmered in his eyes, and Annie’s own spilled freely down her cheeks. She shook her head, her voice thick with emotion. "I know. I forgave you a long time ago. We were just... young. Dumb. In love. But we weren't ready."

She reached for a napkin, dabbing her cheeks. "As much as I wanted our baby, I know she’s in a better place and it wasn’t in vain. Look at what we’ve accomplished. Look at who we became."

Smoke wiped away a tear that escaped down his cheek, then reached out to gently brush her tears away, careful not to disturb her makeup.

"Zariah," he said softly. "You were so sure it was a girl."

She smiled through her tears. "I know it. And Mama shows her to me sometimes in my dreams. She’s got those deep Moore dimples... like her Daddy"

His soft laugh cracked into sobs, and Annie immediately leaned forward, wrapping her arms around him. His broad frame shook as he buried his face in her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her waist. She held him, hand rubbing the back of his head gently, her other arm anchored around his back. They wept together, years of grief and guilt finally released.

Annie had grieved their daughter long ago, honoring her memory by naming the restaurant after her. But seeing the pain Smoke still carried—still buried—fractured something in her chest. She hadn’t known how heavy it had been for him too.

After a long moment, they pulled apart and wiped each other’s tears. Annie took a deep breath, offering him a small smile. "We need a pick-me-up. I’ll be right back."

She disappeared into the kitchen. The cool blast of air from the fridge kissed her face as she retrieved the dessert she had set aside—a chilled banana puddin’ cheesecake. She grabbed her Mama’s peach cobbler, still warm from the oven and scooped a generous helping of ice cream and placed it beside the cobbler on a sleek black plate.

Moments later, she returned to the booth, setting the desserts down with the kind of pride only a Southern Black woman could wield when presenting sweets made with love.

Smoke’s eyes widened with delight. "And what do we have here?"

Annie sank into the booth beside him again, the soft lighting catching the gleam in her eyes. "Well, this is Mama’s peach cobbler and French vanilla ice cream, we make it in-house. And this beauty," she said, pointing to the other plate with a spoon, "is my banana puddin’ cheesecake. A customer favorite."

She handed him the spoon and raised a brow. "Here. Taste them. Really savor the flavors and tell me what you think."

He grinned and took a bite of the cobbler first. The moment it hit his tongue, he closed his eyes and let out a low, satisfied groan. "Lord have mercy..."

Annie laughed and squeezed her thighs together at the sound. "That good, huh?"

"Annie... you got magic in this crust."

She beamed. "Wait till you try the cheesecake."

He didn’t waste time. One bite and he leaned back with a stunned expression, spoon still in hand. "Now see, that’s witchcraft. I don’t know what you did to bananas and puddin', but they not supposed to taste that damn good."

Annie cackled, covering her mouth. "Boy, shut up!"

They laughed together, the sound full and rich. The weight between them had eased.

"Here," he said as he raised a spoonful of cheesecake to her lips. "Enjoy the fruits of your labor."

She smiled, lips parting slowly. She let him feed her, the creamy, sweet flavors melting across her tongue as the crunch of chessman cookies and bits of banana filled her mouth. She hummed in satisfaction. "I don't toot my own horn often, but toot toot!"

He chuckled and they shared another laugh, the sound buzzing warmly between them. Then his gaze dropped to her lips, lingering.

"You got a lil’..." he murmured, gesturing gently toward her mouth.

She swiped at the corner of her lips. "Gone?"

"Not quite," he murmured again, voice a gravelly whisper. He leaned in slowly, eyes locked with hers. Her breath caught as his lips pressed softly to her cheek, then kissed the corner of her mouth.

He hovered, his lips almost touching hers. "There... good as new," he whispered.

His lustful gaze, teasing tone, and the feel of his lips sent an ache between her thighs. A boldness sparked within her. Her hand moved slowly down the firm plane of his chest to the bulge hidden beneath his pants. She groped him through the fabric, feeling him hard and ready.

His breath hitched, and he bit his bottom lip, eyes dark with want.

"Your body remembers me," she whispered, and in a flash his lips crashed into hers.

Their kiss was urgent, their tongues dancing in a sensual waltz. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer, while she clutched at his back and neck, bodies pressed flush.

"Say it, Elijah," she breathed between kisses.

He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, unwavering. "I love you. And I missed you."

That familiar smirk tugged at his lips, but she met it with her own radiant smile. "I love you too," she said, voice full of truth.

Their lips met again, this time deeper, heavier, laced with the ache of years gone by. His mouth moved to her neck, trailing kisses that made her gasp. His hands found the hem of her dress, and she lifted her hips slightly to help him pull it up.

Graceful fingers slid her red lace thong to the side, meeting her wet, aching folds. A soft whimper escaped her lips, and Smoke smirked.

"And this pussy..." he murmured, sweeping up her slick slit to her clit, circling it with teasing precision, "remembers me. Don’t she, baby?"

Annie moaned, swallowing the spit that had gathered in her mouth. "Y-Yes," she stuttered, truth spilling from her lips. No one had ever made her feel the way Elijah "Smoke" Moore did. His touch was etched into her bones.

The pad of his fingers moved expertly over her clit, then slid down to her dripping hole. He pushed inside, fingering her with deliberate rhythm. Her back arched, chest jutting toward him, and Smoke couldn't resist. He tugged at the straps of her dress, and she hastily pulled the top down, shrugging off her bra.

A groan rumbled from his chest as her breasts came into view, his brow lifting with a mischievous glint.

His free hand reached for the cobbler, dipping his index into the melting vanilla ice cream and thick peach syrup. He swirled the mixture over her chocolate nipples, then sucked each one clean, lips hot and hungry.

Annie ground against his fingers, clutching his head to her chest. His soft lips and wicked tongue teased her peaks, each flick and suck sending electric jolts through her.

"Ooh, don’t stop," she moaned, voice shaky with need.

"Not plannin’ on it, baby," he murmured, moving to her other nipple, savoring the creamy sweetness as his tongue flicked the hardened bud.

Her pussy clenched around his fingers as his thumb rolled over her clit, fingers thrusting faster, deeper. A powerful climax was brewing in the pit of her stomach, her moans rising, filling the room with heat and want.

“Mhm, I feel it. Cum for me.” His voice was low—commanding, and just like that, her orgasm crashed through her. Her body shuddering, back arching, whimpers and cries spilling from her lips like a song only he could summon. The look on her face, full of ecstasy and release, was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen—even more breathtaking than when they were twenty and twenty-one.

Annie reached for him as he guided her down from the high, kissing him hungrily. When she stilled, he slipped his fingers from inside her, breaking the kiss just long enough to smear her essence on her lips. His mouth was on hers again in an instant, sucking the taste of her from both their lips. Their moans blended, savoring her flavor, their hunger reigniting.

Slowly, they broke apart. Smoke’s strong hands slid under her, scooting her to the edge of the booth. He rose, gaze never leaving hers, and laid her back. Her thong was slipped off completely, and he parted her thick thighs. Her puffy pussy glistened under the light, making him forget all about the desserts she'd made for him.

“Just as pretty n’ phat as I remember her,” he said, voice thick with desire. He watched her juices trail from her entrance, gliding down the curve of her ass.

Everything about him ignited her. Her body responded on instinct. She watched as he undressed slowly, leaving only his crisp shirt unbuttoned. Mocha skin stretched over taut abs and toned muscle, thighs powerful and promising. Between them, his long, girthy dick bobbed—tip slick with precum—reminding her exactly what kind of memory her body had been holding onto.

Her legs instinctively squeezed shut, trying to ease the aching throb.

But Smoke wasn’t having it.

“Mm-mm. Open those legs up, darlin’. I got business to handle,” he commanded, and she instantly parted them with a soft whine.

He eased to his knees, locking eyes with her as his lips hovered near her waxed cunt. “Just gotta get a quick taste from the source,” he murmured, his breath ghosting over her wet lips—then his tongue parted them, licking slowly up her slit.

“Uunh,” she moaned, chest rising and falling rapidly.

He groaned deep in his chest as he dove in, devouring her. His plush lips French kissed her folds with maddening slowness before latching onto her clit, sucking gently but firmly.

“S-Smoke, please... mmm, please fuck me,” she begged, her voice trembling with need.

His laugh was low and wicked.

After a few more torturous licks, he pulled away, leaving a thick trail of spit that mingled with her essence.

He paused to admire the view, stroking his thick length before placing it at her entrance and slowly easing inside. Their moans met midair as he leaned over her, kissing her deeply while his hips rolled in a slow pace. Her hands gripped his back, toes curling with each stroke.

“Fuuuck, you feel so good,” he groaned against her lips. Once she adjusted to his size, his thrusts grew faster. His mouth moved to her neck, ravishing it with hot kisses as he sank deep inside her.

“Ooh, Smoke...” Her mind was a blur of pleasure.

He sat back slightly, lifting her right leg and pushing it toward her chest, letting him reach new depths. Her mouth dropped open in a silent scream, eyes fluttering shut as he found her spot again and again.

“This my pussy, Annie? Hm?” he grunted.

Somewhere in the haze, his words reached her. “Yes, Daddy. Fuck, yes. Uuunh.”

He savored her moans, the way her body welcomed him—soft, warm, and perfect. He felt built for her, and she for him. They were high on each other.

“Look at me,” he demanded. “I want to see you when I make you cum.” His groans spilled out between thrusts. She struggled to keep her eyes open, but once their gazes locked, she couldn't look away.

Smoke glanced down briefly, watching their bodies meet. His shaft was coated with her arousal, the thick vein along the top pulsing with need. He enjoyed the bounce of her soft belly as he pounded into her, her toes stretching in her heels as pleasure overtook her.

Their eyes locked again, intensity thick between them, and when he hit her spot just right, his hand gripped her neck as her pussy clenched tightly around him.

“Let it go, baby. Mmm, cum for me,” he moaned.

And her body obeyed. She cried out his name as her orgasm took her under, one hand clutching the table, the other gripping his wrist. The feel of her coming undone around him triggered his release, and he spilled deep inside her, his head falling back as his groans joined hers.

His strokes slowed, riding the wave with her. Then he leaned down, kissing her softly. The kiss spoke for them both—how much they loved each other, how they were never letting go, how the future was theirs. She was his, and he was hers. No doubt about it.

And as they made love into the early hours of Sunday morning in Elijah’s bed, they didn’t just savor Annie’s cooking and each other—they healed.

The End.

Read the follow-up story here: Fire We Make

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Safe to say these two live in my head rent free. I hope you enjoyed my modern take on our favorite sinners. Leave a comment and tell me what you think. I'd love to hear from you. See ya in my next one! xoxo

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Taglist:

@slvt4her @wanderingreigns @avoidthings @xjjawsomex @that-one-anxious-mango @wabi-sabi1090 @nubiawrites @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @kianaleani @slutsareteacherstoo @slyy-foxx @dxddykenn @moujg @naughtynolly @wildcardmelaninfreak @pocketsizedpanther @wabi-sabi1090 @styleismyaddiction @novahreign @transparentphantomface @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @babymelaninn @jasmynn05 @notapradagurl7 @starcrossedxwriter

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lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 8 months ago

Text

ANIMALS- L. HOWLETT

Pairing: Boyfriend!Logan x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 636 (quick drabble lol)

Summary: You and Logan play a game of hide and seek while you have the manor to yourselves…

Warnings: Smut implied, fingering, daddy kink, praise kink, a little degrading, size kink, Logan being a dommmm, priminalish? Logan, swearing, teasing, grinding etc

“baby i’m prayin on you tonight, hunt you down and chew alive just like animals, animals like animals… baby you think that you can hide, i can smell your scent for miles…”- animals, maroon 5

You counted your breaths, trying to steady them. A quick, sharp inhale.

One, two, three, four. Out.

You gripped the bannister of the oak headboard, squeezing yourself in a corner by the back of the bed. It wasn't long now before he found you.

It was a chase. A hunt, a hound sniffing out his prey.

You and Logan had made a deal- your agreement more a joke then anything, but nonetheless- you were here, in hiding.

“If I catch you, I get to fuck you.” He smirked , flipping his pocket knife in the air, fidgeting around between his fingers like the blade was nothing. You laughed, eyeing him up suspiciously.

“You get to fuck me, hm?”

“Yeah sweetheart. Anyway that I want.”

Well you had never backed down from a challenge, especially not from him. As your boyfriend it was his job to rile you up- and to get you going. You couldnt say you minded it though.

So now you were here, a hand gently held against your mouth, as you tried to slow your heartrate down. You knew he had heard you, there was no way he hadn’t. The manor was empty, everyone gone on either summer break, a mission or were just out for the day.

It was when you and Logan could have your fun. The real fun.

Your footsteps surely echoed down the grand hallways, bouncing off the oak furnishings and dozens of old paintings hung. It was only a matter of seconds now, before he found you.

You squeezed your thighs together in anticipation, wetness coating the apex of your thighs. Your skin turned hot to the touch, heart beating so loud you could hear it rattling as if it were a fly buzzing in your ear.

Sure enough, the clack of his boots stopped at the doorway, pushing it open slowly. It creaked so loudly you winced.

“Cmere pretty, pretty girl. Come to daddy.” he chuckled, tormenting you with his slow and stead stride.

You heard an armoir open, then slam shut. He was toying with you.

“I know you're in here baby. I can smell ya.”

One, two, three, four. One, tw-

You let out a loud yelp as two large arms caged you in, sweeping you off your feet as if you were a sack of potatoes. “Caught ya.” he whispered teasingly in your ear, throwing you on the bed.

You bounced with an oof, scrambling back as he pounced on you. “Mghm Lo-“ you whined as he tore your top off with such ferociously you feared his claws would come out.

“You like running from me baby? You like the chase hmm.?” You nodded, gasping as his denium clothed knee pushed your legs apart, leaving you to grind shamelessly on his knee “Yeah, yeah I know you do. Fuckin slut.”

“F-fuck..” you stuttered as he pinned your hands above your head, letting you ride him. “Such a needy girl.” he cooed at you, mocking your moans and whimpers as he tugged down your shorts.

“She’s so needy too. Should I give her what she wants?” he asked, eyes greedily taking in the wet patch on your underwear. You clenched at the mere sound of his voice, panties dripping wet. Soaked. “Please Lo- you have to-“

“I have to what hm? I don’t think I have to do anything. You’re not in control here, princess.” You sucked in a gasp as his hand slithered down your underwear, large fingers coaxing you as they lightly brushed your clit, pinching it.

“Pretty girl.” he cooed, sliding a finger down past your folds, to pump deep inside you, curling until he hit the spot that had you seeing stars. “Stretchin ya out baby, cause you’re too tight. Always so tight f’me. I’m gonna fill you up so good, just the way you like baby. Such a tiny lil thing, you just wanna get wrecked hm?”

You were beyond flustered, muscles tensing as he picked up the pace- your toes curling. “You’re doing so good princess. But you gotta take my cock now, m’kay?”

#wolverine fic #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett fanfiction #wolverine fanfiction #deadpool and wolverine #hugh jackman smut #hugh jackman fanfic #hugh jackman #deadpool 3 #wolverine #wolverpool #wolverine smut #logan howlett #logan howlet smut #wolverine x reader

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meadowfics · 3 months ago

Text

postpartum

husband!babyfather!kang dae-ho x f!wife!mom!reader

in a world where you did get to have your family, unlike what happened here

warnings: mentions of normal post-pregnancy stuff like breastmilk pumping. postpartum depression. dae-ho being ALIVE in this one and being the best husband to you and father to your babies <3

heavily requested in my inbox after what I posted yesterday LMAO

the weight of it all is suffocating.

you sit on the couch, your body sinking into the cushions as exhaustion drapes over you like a heavy, unshakable blanket.

in your arms, tiny and delicate, byeol drinks from her bottle, her little fingers curling and uncurling against your chest, her slow, steady suckling the only sound anchoring you in the moment.

the babies tiny body is warm against you, her breaths soft, her features too much like dae-ho’s that it makes your heart ache.

normally, you would be lost in adoration, in awe of this little life you brought into the world. you would trace her perfect cheeks with your fingers, marvel at the way her lashes flutter as she drinks, kiss the soft long hair she inherited from her father.

today, you are simply trying to hold yourself together.

your body is sore, aching from the endless cycle of feeding, pumping, and barely sleeping. your mind feels foggy, tangled with thoughts you don’t want to have, emotions you don’t want to feel.

you love your daughters, you love dae-ho, you love your family. you would never trade this for anything.

however, the love isn’t enough to make the heaviness go away.

across the room, seo-ah plays on the floor, a bright burst of energy that fills every corner of the house. she chatters to her stuffed animals, her high-pitched giggles filling the space, making everything feel alive in a way that you cannot.

“appa! look! teddy is dancing!”

she exclaims, lifting her stuffed bear into the air, twirling it in circles.

dae-ho, sitting cross-legged on the floor beside her, gasps in exaggerated excitement.

“wahhh! so cool, teddy is so talented!”

seo-ah beams at the praise, her eyes crinkling as she twirls again, her joy infectious, her laughter like sunshine.

normally, that sound would lift you.

normally, watching dae-ho be the incredible father that he is would warm your heart, remind you that you are not alone in this, that you have him.

today, it only makes the exhaustion worse.

dae-ho’s gaze flickers toward you, sharp and observant, even as he stays engaged with seo-ah’s game.

he doesn’t miss the tension in your shoulders, the blankness in your eyes, the way your responses are slower, quieter than usual.

he gets up, making his way to you, crouching in front of the couch so that he’s level with you.

“baby,” he murmurs, his voice soft, careful.

“are you okay?”

you manage a small smile.

“yeah, just tired.”

the marine’s warm, calloused hands settle on your knees, thumbs rubbing slow, comforting circles.

“do you want me to take byeol for a bit? you’ve been holding her all day.”

you shake your head, your arms instinctively tightening around byeol’s small frame.

“no, i got it.”

dae-ho doesn’t push. he never does.

he simply nods, but the concern lingers in his eyes.

after twenty minutes, when byeol finishes her bottle, you sigh, shifting in your seat.

“love, can you do their bedtime routine tonight? i feel… gross. i just wanna shower.”

dae-ho’s expression softens instantly, and without hesitation, he leans forward to press a gentle kiss to your temple before carefully lifting mini byeol from your arms.

“of course, baby. take your time, okay?”

he doesn’t say it to make you feel better. he means it.

every time, every single time, he is happy to take care of his girls.

he never complains, never hesitates.

he loves them, loves you.

as he walks away, bouncing byeol gently in his arms, calling for seo-ah in that affectionate tone he always uses, you make your way to the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind you.

unfortunately, the moment you step into the shower, the relief you so desperately crave does not come.

the warm water cascades down your skin, but it does nothing to ease the exhaustion weighing down on you.

the pressure is strong, firm against your sore muscles, but you still feel tense, wound so tightly that no amount of heat can unravel you.

you let your head drop forward, resting your forehead against the cool tiles of the shower wall. your arms hang limply at your sides, the steam rising around you in thick waves.

for a moment, you try to breathe…slow, deep, steady. but it doesn’t help. nothing does.

your body doesn’t feel like yours anymore.

your breasts ache, swollen and sore from pumping, tender in a way that makes you wince when the water hits them. your stomach, still soft and a little stretched from carrying byeol, stirs something sharp and cruel inside you, something that whispers that you’ll never look or feel the same again.

honestly, you cannot recall if you felt like this after having seo-ah.

you press your palm against yourself, fingers tracing over the faint marks left behind from your pregnancy, and you don’t know whether you love them or hate them.

a lump forms in your throat as your gaze flickers downward.

your thighs, your waist, the curve of your hips—none of it looks the way it used to.

you know, logically, that your body is healing, that you just brought a life into this world.

sometimes logic doesn’t quiet the thoughts that get at you, that tell you you are different now in a way that you can’t come back from.

you reach for your vanilla body wash, desperate for something familiar, something comforting.

the moment your fingers curl around the bottle, you realize it’s empty.

your breath catches.

it’s stupid.

it’s just body wash. you can use dae-ho’s.

it doesn’t matter.

it does.

your hand trembles slightly as you pick up his bottle instead, the scent of cedarwood and musk filling the space. it smells like him, like the warmth of his embrace, like the shirts you steal from his side of the closet.

you squeeze the soap into your net sponge, rubbing it over your arms, your shoulders, your chest. the wrongness lingers, settling into the hollow of your ribs like an ache that won’t fade.

when will this get easier?

the thought slams into you like a wave, sudden and suffocating.

your chest tightens, and before you can stop it, tears spill over your cheeks, mixing with the water streaming down your face.

you bite down on your lip, trying to keep the sobs at bay, but it’s useless. the emotions hit all at once, hard and overwhelming, crushing under the weight of everything you’ve been holding in.

your shoulders shake as the sobs build, as the exhaustion and frustration and sadness pour out of you in waves you can’t control.

you press a trembling hand to your mouth, trying to muffle the sounds, trying not to let it get too loud and scare seo-ah from her bedroom.

no matter how hard you try, no matter how much you tell yourself to just get over it, to just be strong…you can’t stop.

the walls feel too close. the steam is suffocating. the sound of the water is deafening.

you squeeze your eyes shut, gripping onto the tile as you try to catch your breath, try to pull yourself together, try to remind yourself that you are okay.

you don’t feel okay.

you don’t know when you will again.

your body still aches. your breasts are sore from pumping, tender in a way that makes you wince when the water hits them.

the final straw.

and then—

the door creaks open.

you don’t hear footsteps, don’t hear anything other than your own quiet cries.

then the shower door slides open, and suddenly, there he is.

dae-ho.

your husband.

your breath catches as he takes you in….your trembling frame, the water streaming down your face, the way you try so desperately to wipe away the evidence of your breakdown.

he’s not having any of it.

without a word, he steps forward, his black shirt and joggers instantly soaked as he pulls you into his arms.

“baby,” he breathes against your wet hair, his voice thick with emotion.

“don’t do that. don’t hide from me.”

you break.

your hands clutch at his shirt, your sobs shaking your whole body as he holds you. his large hands cradle the back of your head, his fingers slipping through your soaked hair as he rocks you gently.

“i know it’s hard,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“but i’m right here. i’ll always be right here.”

and you believe him.

he stays with you until the tears slow, until your breathing steadies.

then, gently, he helps you out of the shower, wrapping a towel around you before drying you off with so much tenderness it nearly makes you cry all over again.

you don’t lift a finger.

he stands behind you, brushing through your damp hair before braiding it, his fingers moving with practiced ease thanks to his older sisters.

he massages your vanilla body butter into your skin, his touch warm, comforting. when he helps you into your nightgown, his fingers linger at your waist, his gaze full of something so raw, so real, that it makes your breath hitch.

in bed, he helps you pump, his hands resting on your thighs, his presence a grounding force.

finally, when you’re settled against him, you whisper,

“did they go to sleep easily?”

dae-ho hums.

“byeol was easy, but seo-ah went on a five-minute rant about oreo ice cream before tiring herself out.”

you giggle softly, your heart swelling.

“she really loves that ice cream.”

you don’t speak again until the question that has been weighing on you slips past your lips.

“dae…will i feel beautiful again?”

dae-ho’s response is immediate.

he pulls you close, pressing kiss after kiss to your forehead, your cheeks, your lips.

“you are beautiful now,” he murmurs against your skin.

“you’ve always been beautiful. you gave us the most perfect babies. and i promise, baby, you’ll feel normal again. until then, i’ll be here. every step of the way.”

and in his arms, in his warmth, you believe him.

you will be okay, even if postpartum depression keeps trying to consume you.

masterlist

#kang dae ho #can you tell that this is my favorite gif of him lmao #squid game #squid game s2 #squid game season 2 #squid game fanfic #kang dae ho x reader #player 388 #payer 388 x reader #multifandom account #squid game x reader #squid game x y/n #meadowfics

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