#Dripping Springs Guide

[specsthesecond]

🃏👑🃏

You were married off to the king as a young noble woman. The arrangement was rather rushed in your opinion, not that anyone asked for it. The king only needed a show queen, a quiet but present symbol for the kingdom and you suited well enough for that.

He didn’t need a wife for pleasure, he had plenty mistresses for that and he seemed to be in no rush for a successor. You suspected it was because he had no intent to hand over power to anyone else anytime soon. Although, that's just what you assumed, others never blamed him for it. You were always the target of the hushed whispers and silent accusations of infertility, unruliness or even infidelity when it came to the subject of an heir.

The people's gossip aside, it was an easy marriage. You didn’t have to share a bed with a man you didn’t love and you didn’t have to raise his children. Many more deserving women would kill for such a life, which only made you feel worse about the utter discontent you felt. It was the loneliness, mostly. Such a privileged life and yet not a single companion in the world to share it with.

The king and his advisers only speak to you when they need you to make an appearance as queen. Their orders always dripping with condescension and near mockery. They’ve made you smile and wave for hours, waltz until your feet blister and recite a holy text’s worth of pompous poetry, but this most recent ploy was particularly concerning.

You sit on your throne next to your husband, hands in your lap, staring at the colourful figure in front of you. The bells on his ridiculous hat jingle as he bows his head so low they almost touch the marble floor. Quiet chuckles emit from the nobility crowding the massive ballroom and the unease in your stomach only builds.

When the jester picks his head back up, you can’t help fiddling even more with your dress, just like your husband's advisers have scolded you not to. The jester silently stares with his sheet white face, big red grin painted across his mouth. You want to shrink under the jesters stare, the blue diamonds painted over his eyes make his gaze feel piercing.

The king grins when he catches your nervous gaze.

“Do you like your surprise, my love? I thought you could use some cheering up lately. As did my advisers.”

He chuckles, looking over at the old men in the corner of the room. They smile back, amusing in a joke you're not a part of.

You just nod your head as politely as possible. You don’t know what's happening, but whatever they have planned can’t be good.

The jester skips up to where you and the king sit. He gives an exaggerated curtsy to the king, earning a laugh from him and the various nobility.

The bells jingle as he springs back up and steps closer to you. He stretches his hand out, you stare at it and then back to your husband.

“The fool wants a dance, my dear. Give him a dance.”

You try to hide the apprehension on your face and reach for the jesters white glove-covered hand. He doesn’t squeeze or pull you up like you expected, instead he holds it gently, waiting for your next move. You rise from your throne and cast one more glance at your husband, who only offers a self-satisfied grin in return. This whole time all they've wanted from you is a perfect queen and now they want you to dance with a fool?

The jester walks you to the middle of the room, encircled by leering nobility. He places your hand on his waist before dramatically correcting the mistake and placing it on his shoulder instead, looking bashfully to the audience who snicker at the joke. He takes your other hand in his and gives you a little nod before the musicians starts playing and he guides you into step.

Now obviously you know very well how to dance, you enjoyed it quite a bit when you were little although, now it’s just become another part of your queenly duties. Did any of that even matter now? Now that it’s clear the king and his peers see you as just as much of a joke as the man you’re waltzing with.

Your deep thoughts are broken when said man unexpectedly twirls you in a dizzying circle. You flail slightly in your surprise but you’re brought back into his arms just as quickly to continue your steps. You fully focus on him now and you wonder what his features look like under that gaudy clown makeup. Even in the bright chandelier lights of the ball room, you can’t make out the colour of his irises. Earlier, you thought they were hazel but now it seems they're an impossibly dark brown.

The dark pools look as if they could swallow all the colour from his face and your own. Actually, has he blinked even once during this dance, or at all for that matter?

You’re not sure if it was your mistake or the jester’s but you step on his foot and he suddenly pulls away from you. He clutches his foot and jumps up and down in theatrical pain. The room bursts into laughter, bellows and cackles. These elite men and women delight in the humiliating performance you’re both putting on for them. It takes everything in you not to cave right there in the middle of it.

While the jeering continues, you try your best to steel yourself, replacing the need to cry with spiteful compliance. If they want a dance, they can have a dance.

You curtsy at the jester, offering an apology and hold your hand out to him. He looks around and then points to himself. You can’t help but smile and nod your head.

He takes your hand and when the music starts back up again, you step in time to the beautiful melody. You try and put your full attention on the jester, not anyone else in the large room, which proves to be quite easy as he is by far the most interesting person present. You can just make out the small smile under the red painted grin, his relaxed eyebrows under the bright blue diamonds, the crook of his pointy nose.

While moving in sync, you become almost lost in trying to map out his face under the make-up. You look for imperfections in the face paint but can’t seem to find a single smudge or brush streak, in fact the paint looks impressively even, like it’s a second skin.

It truly does feel like its only you two and the music, for the first time in a long time you feel wanted by someone else.

But when the king grows bored he demands new entertainment.

He motions for the musicians to stop their music and you’re brought back to reality. The jester bows for the crowd, he gestures to you and you offer a little curtsy before being escorted back to your throne. Form there, you watch the rest of the strange performers routine. He juggles an impressive amount of miscellaneous items, he folds himself into ridiculous positions, walks on his hands and generally makes a fool of himself for the crowd.

You watch in delight, though your husband doesn't seem as interested as he was before your little dance.

You think about the jester all the way back to your courters that night. You think about him as you slip on your night dress and slide into bed, and you think of him as you stare up at the ceiling for possibly hours. There is too much on your mind, the fun of watching the jesters performance has subsided and thoughts of what this means for your reputation and position in the court remain constant. A sigh leaves you as you lift yourself up and open the doors to your balcony.

You lean on the balcony ledge and stare out at the starry night sky, not even the strange jester can distract from the humiliation ritual you were just a part of. He could have been in on it for all you know and you're just naive enough to think he was being kind to you during the whole thing.

A shuffling sound from behind you makes you turn your head and it takes you just a split second to register the very colourful jester standing in the corner of your balcony.

The screech you let out is smothered by your own hand. You clutch the edge of the balcony, staring at the slender man who puts his hands up, waving apologies while moving his chest as if laughing, nothing comes out of his mouth. You clutch your heart, breathing quite heavily as you stare at him bewildered. You look around trying to discern where he could have come from, and how you only now hear his bells jingle as he waves his hands, still apologising.

He steps closer and stands tall in front of you, he’s much more imposing than you remember him being. He holds up one finger and then mimics a waltz. His head bows low and he holds his hand out for you to take. He’s asking for another dance but is there really much of a choice at all? Has this also been planned? If you say no, will he just leave? Do you want him to leave? The dance you shared was the most delightful time you've had in so, so long

You stare at him for a good while, he stays with his hand outstretched, bent over at a near 90 degree angle, not straining even a little. The longer you wait, the more uncomfortable you feel in his unwavering presence.

Against your better judgement, you reach out and touch his gloved hand. He curls his fingers around yours and stands upright. You let him bring your hand to his shoulder, place his hand on your waist and step closer. This time is different from the last time. Now it really does feel like his attention is only on you, not with the other guests, not with the performance. It should be frightening, but you find no malice in his eyes, no ridicule in his demeanor.

As he steps into motion, you begin a slow waltz in the small space of your balcony. It's slower than in the ballroom, it's more intimate. While you dance with this complete stranger, your thoughts run rampant, you second guess your judgement again and again. Maybe the kindness you sense from him is a ruse. Maybe he is here on behalf of the king, setting up another degrading show. He could even be an assassin, come to rid you quietly in the middle of the night.

You would deserve such a fate for giving in so easily. You slowly spin in his arms and this time you don't hear the snide laughs of the nobility, just the sounds of the night. Both of you step in time and you let him guide you to the edge of your balcony. You hold your breath as he dips you over the ledge. Your eyes squeeze shut and you let out what could be your last breath ready for him to let go and let you fall.

But he doesn't let go, your grip on his shoulders never slips. You open your eyes, a bit blurry from wetness but you can make out his face, because it's right in front of you even though you're bent over the balcony far enough that your feet have left the ground. You stare back at his unrelenting gaze. In the dim light of the moon his eyes look even darker than before and something new swims in the deep black of his pupils, something sad.

They are lidded as they examine your face, your entire being. His hand on your back presses your chest further into his until you're sure he can feel your rapid heartbeat through your very flesh.

He lifts you upright again, turning you away from the ledge and out of harms way. You’re still chest to chest, he’s so close but you can’t feel him breathe. Your wide eyes stare up at him, trying to discern his expression. Your breaths are short and your grip on him hasn’t let up a bit.

He brings his hands up to your cheeks, the warm fabric of his gloves on your cold cheeks has you easing into them far too easily. His eyes examine every inch of your face while his thumbs stroke your cheeks, you can just barely see the frown on his lips behind the painted smile. He brings your face closer to his, slow and methodical, making it very clear what his next move is. You’re not sure if this was due to his own hesitation or to give you time to pull away, regardless you let him inch closer and closer until his lips grazed yours and you finally feel him breathe out one long breath.

The kiss is deep. Despite being slow and gentle, it still forces a struggled breath from you. You would’ve thought he tasted like paint but he doesn’t, he’s warm and inviting. It’s nice.

Your eyes close, surrendering all hesitation to the stranger in your arms. Fingers dig into the fabric of his puffy striped sleeves as your body melts further into his. You quickly learn to breathe through your nose, out of necessity and unwillingness to part from his affections.

You let him work your mouth open, slipping his tongue inside. The feeling is so foreign, you can’t help but whine. The backs of his fingers flutter over your throat and you shiver.

His tongue fills your mouth, sliding along yours and savouring your taste. The wet muscle reaches far into your mouth, farther than you thought normal but your experience is slim and you don’t have the awareness to fully question it. It’s overwhelming. Your knees tremble and he lowers you both to the cold stone floor. His tongue reaches into your throat, a feat you know is impossible.

You’re too lost to even think of the implications of this, as you gag and convulse around the thick muscle in your throat that no longer feels like a normal tongue. He reaches so far, your eyes roll back, your lower region warms uncomfortably and you forget how to breathe. You tap his shoulders quickly, a plea for air, and he retreats from your throat. He holds you as you cough and heave, wiping the spit from your chin.

You look at him with the an expression full of shock and fear and bewilderment and every other emotion shooting through your fuzzy mind. His expression is hard to discern but he seems both amused and sad.

He stands and brings you up on shaky legs. When he starts to back away, you panic and clutch his hands tighter. You don’t know what you were hoping for. That he would stay? That he would spend the night with you?

His face is full of what you hope is longing and not pity, you know what pity looks like. He holds you close in what you know is a goodbye embrace. He presses his forehead to yours and he places one last short kiss on your lips. Its playfull and very much not what you’d consider a proper good bye kiss. You search his gaze and you’re met with rather boyish mirth, lifting your spirits slightly. Maybe this isn't goodbye then?

He winks at you and takes your hand, spinning you around once, twice and three times before he lets go. When you rebalance yourself and look around the balcony, there is no sight of the jester. It's just the pitying sounds of the night and your only other witness, the moon. Like he was never there at all.

[madamechrissy]

Sucking Caleb for the First time

Cw- just Caleb being a munch, whimpering, being hella jealous of your own fingers lol, oral sex, he was a virgin before you, possessive Caleb

Caleb is always a giver, he loves to lick every inch of you, burying his face against your cunt and slurping you down. He always makes sure you're cumming over and over, until you can't anymore, on his cock, fingers, face - anywhere you want to. Then even after fucking, he loves to clean his cum out of your pretty pussy until it's clean and ready for more.

Ever since Caleb learned what eating pussy was with you, he's become obsessed with it. He loves feeling you tremble under his big hands, loves eyeing you under his dark lashes to watch your tits jiggle as your hips jerk. He especially loves drinking your juices that gush for him, after so many years of lapping your panties up getting it from the source is addictive.

But Caleb has never let you suck him, it's been a couple months now since you two finally took things further, but every time you try he's burying his face against your pussy again. Or he is fucking you dumb. He feels that you shouldn't be on your knees in front of him like that! And what if he made you choke or hurt you!? And shouldn't he be the one on his knees for you?

'Caleb, please... lemme try,' you are kissing down his chest in the early hours of the morning, running your fingers over his chest where the silver necklace rests. Then as his scowl fades, you press hot kisses along hard planes of his abdomen, earning his whimper. He softens a bit in his expression, brushing your hair back. 'I want to, I promise.'

'Pips, I enjoy worshipping you though,' he frowns a bit, brushing back your hair, the stormy dark violet eyes worried.

'Let me try it and if you don't like it, we wont.' Caleb knows he'll like anything you do, but he can't help but wonder now what you have in mind. He's never even watched porn because that always felt like a betrayal, plus no other woman could ever make him hard.

He gives you a little nod as you slowly tug down his boxers, cutely covered in little airplanes that you bought him last week. His cock has already leaked against his boxers from licking you. There's a dark spot forming, when you slip them off, and his thick, veiny cock springs free. Your tummy clenches as you run your finger over his pretty pink tip, collecting the milky precum, watching him take a shaky breath.

'Pips... mnh...' his head falls back, Adam's apple bobbing as you flick your tongue along it. You moan as you taste him, just a little salty but sweet, you're swirling your tongue around him then, hand slipping down his long length. 'Fuck...'

Once you start sucking in earnest, suction and saliva making filthy noise in the room, Caleb snaps. That control always snaps with you, where he loses it. He's gripping your hair so rough, shoving his cock up in your throat, you choke on it and he panics, yanking you off. 'I liked that,' you whisper, saliva dripping from your lips. 'Fuck my throat Caleb, please, s'okay'

'I'll give you anything, pretty girl,' he's lost then, he won't deny your pretty self anything ever, and your throat feels so fucking good. You're sucking as much of his length as you can, you're resting on one elbow as you let him guide you, hair wrapped in a pony tail. 'Feels s'good, fuck... honey... '

You feel him pulsing in your throat as he fucks up into it, hips bucking up from the bed, his eyes meeting yours as he gently strokes your cheek, like he's not bruising your esophagus. You can't help but touch your pussy then, feeling your slick cunt and sliding in two fingers, making him pause, furious now. He pulls your hand up, his cock slips out of your mouth with a filthy pop.

'You know the rules, only I can touch you,' he yanks your fingers, sucking on them, his cheeks hollowing.

'Caleb... its making me so wet though!' He glares at you, his rule has always been no one touches you but him. Even your damn self.

'Don't you 'Caleb' me, no one can touch you but me, that pussy is mine,' he flips your positions now, you're pouting but when he finds your clit with his rough fingers you're just gasping in pleasure. 'Body is mine, all of you - mine'

'Wanna suck you off,' you whine out those words, bat your eyelashes, when Caleb kisses your lips, tasting himself, tip pressing against your soppy little hole.

'I need to cum inside you,' his husky words are met with a mean thrust, filling you so quickly, his eyes dilated and flashing as he pins down your wrists. 'Need to breed you honey, you know this'

'Next time?' He chuckles at your last attempt, shaking his head and stretching your cunt out so good you scream for him, the sound making him fuck you harder.

'You can still talk, I see I need to fuck you harder,' He's slamming his cock, heavy balls smacking your ass when he puts those legs up over his shoulders. You quickly get the idea fucked out of your head for now, but a part of you knows Caleb really liked it.

I rly think Caleb is a giver to this point ngl lol

[emisluvr]

‎ 𝗗𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗚   ✦   𝗣.𝗝𝗦      

‎ 【 𝓮́𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗍𝖾 】 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉.

박종성 / 𝒇.𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋  ୨ৎ  791.  ───  𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍 , 𝗎𝗇𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 & 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝗑 (𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗎𝖺𝗅) , 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝗇𝗈𝗉𝗁𝗂𝗅𝗂𝖺 , 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖾

‎ ꒰◞ ˕ ◟୨୧꒱ REBLOG FOR CUDDLES !

the room is dim, quiet, blankets half thrown off your shared bed with jay as you both lay asleep—except for him.

the soft rustling of sheets and jay’s subtle, deep groans fill the air. he wakes up from a pathetic, wet dream about bending you over and fucking you dumb.

he wouldn't be able to fall asleep at this point. not with his cock hard, pulsing, already leaking in his sweatpants as his chest rises and falls.

he turns to his side, facing your back as he eyes your sleeping figure. and fuck, you looked so good. hair messy but still soft and perfect, your oversized tee ridden up slightly, exposing the arch of your back.. and then his eyes drift down.

your laced-lingerie shorts had shifted in your sleep, and if jay tugged them just a little more, he’d have perfect access to your pussy right then and there.

his breath is shaky as he pushes his sweatpants down just enough, cock springing free and slapping against his stomach—already flushed and dripping, desperate to be inside you.

he moves closer to your body, tugging your shorts aside until he’s met with your wet slit. he groans lowly, guiding his cock to your folds, not pushing in just yet. he rubs the head up and down your pussy, letting your wetness glaze him.

the feeling stirs you slightly, body still heavy with sleep, but you feel jay’s hand on your hip and the familiar pressure between your legs.

"mmh.. jay?" you whisper, voice dazed, too tired to even move.

"shhh.. go back to sleep, doll, ‘kay?" he whispers, thumb tracing lazy circles into your hip as he aligns himself. his cock, already slick from your arousal, presses into your hole before slowly easing in.

"fuckk.. missed this pussy so bad," he groans, burying himself deep. your walls hug him tight, wet and warm around his length.

you breathe out softly in response, his hips angled just right, every slow thrust pressing right into your sweet spot.

"look at you, still so tight even in your sleep," he mumbles. he pulls out halfway before pushing back in, again and again—obsessed with the way your pussy sucks him in, like it needed him even while you slept.

"ngh, jay.." you whimper, your voice soft and needy. little moans of his name slip past your lips as he stretches you open, brushing against that perfect spot.

his hand slides from your hip to under your thigh, lifting it slightly. his fingers find your clit, rubbing gentle circles.

the touch makes your hips jolt, ass pushing back into him. your hand reaches behind you, holding onto his wrist with a weak and sleepy grip.

"always feel so good for me—fuck," his voice cracks as his cock throbs, tip twitching deep inside. he’s close, and so are you.

your walls pulse around him, the pressure of his cock hitting your sensitive spot mixing with the overwhelming pleasure on your clit. your body gives in before you can stop it.

you both cum, your pussy tightening around him as his hips stutter, spilling thick spurts inside you. he groans deeply, staying buried as he fucks it into you, your mixed arousal dripping onto the sheets.

he takes a few slow breaths, forehead resting against your shoulder before kissing it gently. "i love you, angel.. thank you," he whispers, pulling your shorts back into place and wrapping an arm around your waist before dozing off again.

୨ৎ taglist: @murassl, @chuhees, @heebear, @kisuumei, @bangchanwifey, @hoonipies, @kikidoul, @highway-143, @kyanmeai, @nithxhoon, @fdzvie, @hyeinsveil, @curryyed, @heeseungsbm

© emisluvr 2025. all rights reserved.

[delilahsturniolo]

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ۶ৎ TWO LIPS ON THIS DICK

"baby," he breathes, his voice thick with want. you can hear the desperation in his tone, the need. "please, i need you." you drop to your knees in front of him, your hands reaching for the zipper of his pants. slowly, teasingly, you pull it down, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent room. his cock springs free, hard and throbbing, the tip already glistening with pre-cum.

"fuck," he moans, his hips bucking involuntarily as your fingers brush against his sensitive skin. "your feel s’good pretty girl…”you look up at him through your lashes, a coy smile playing on your lips. your voice low and sultry. "m’gonna make you feel even better."

leaning forward, you take him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the head of his cock. he lets out a low groan, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guides your movements. "yes, just like that," he pants, his hips rocking in time with your ministrations.

you can feel him trembling beneath your touch, his body taut with desire. you take him deeper, your mouth working in tandem with your hand as you stroke his shaft. he's moaning now, his words of encouragement spurring you on

"you're doing so good," he whines, his grip on your hair tightening. "your mouth feels amazing." he threw his head back in pleasure you hum in response, the vibration causing him to buck wildly. "fuck, i'm close," he warns, his voice strained. "don't stop, please don't stop baby—“

you double your efforts, your hand and mouth moving in perfect sync as you bring him closer to the edge. with a final moan, he spills into your mouth, his cum coating your tongue as you swallow it down greedily. "so fucking hot," he praises, his chest heaving with exertion. "you're incredible sweetheart." you smile, he traces his thumb over your bottom lip, your chin dripping with his cum.

© delilahsturniolo

💌: guys they all looked SOOO good in todays video omfggg, but more importantly i’m so glad they’re okay!! <3

[dolcekissy]

disclaimer // 18+ content. this story includes protected sex AND unprotected sex, p in v, the L word, soft!rafe i guess.

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rafe's fingers dig softly into your skin, holding onto your jaw to keep your head facing him, laid on your side with him behind you ─ thrusting his cock into your dripping walls slowly, blue eyes boring into yours, pupils blown and eyes soft. his eyes never leave yours, watching every emotion run through them, engrossed in the way your jaw falls slack when his hips shift slightly ─ his pink tip brushing against your cervix.

his brows furrow as he mimics your face, jaw falling slack in awe as he watches your face contort in pleasure, watching the way your eyelashes flutter and your eyes blink shut, empathetic groans falling from his pink lips every time you moan and whimper for him ─ your pleasure fueling his in a way he doesn't understand, pink tip leaking into the condom every time you acknowledge him and his cock, how good he makes you feel.

rafe blanks when your irises meet his again, plump lips parting to speak, lips covered in mixed saliva and your salty tears of pleasure ─ his cock twitching painfully when your soft and broken voice whimpers out an, "i love you.", his eyes widening and his whole being snapping, the feeling of being loved, being told he's loved unlocking something primal in him ─ an almost whimper leaving his dry throat as his weight pushes you completely onto your tummy, his cock pistoning into you at a speed that has your mouthwatering.

he feels almost pathetic as he begs, "say it again." "tell me you love me.", cock twitching every time you obey, the three words falling from your pretty lips with a cry, his mind mush and his cock painfully hard, biting back whimpers and moans of your name with his teeth, biting the plush of his bottom lip hard. his weight crushing, chest flush against your back, ass pressed against his abdomen.

he almost cries when you reach back, placing a hand on his abdomen to stop him, pushing his weight back until his cock springs out of you ─ condom coated in a thick layer of your wetness, creamy arousal almost dripping off of the condom as you pull it off, his eyes rolling back as you guide his bare cock back into your tight, gummy walls ─ moaning wildly as he fucks you raw, tight cunt drawing his cock in close.

he's whimpering your name when your shaking your head no when he pants in your ear, asking if you're on birth control ─ his head falling forward against your sweat covered neck when your cunt flutters around him, telling him what it wants so sweetly, begging to milk his bare cock dry, his hot breath panting against your neck ─ jaw slack and open lips brushing against your shoulder as he cums, hot spurts of cum filling your precious cunt, chants of, "i love you too." falling from his lips like a prayer. he'd be a foolish man not to love you back.

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[enhani-ki]

i've been waiting for u - reader x ni-ki

warning: smut, nsfw, cursing, etc.

"can we make love before you go?" was the last thing your boyfriend said before you went out.

you just got home from a girls' night out, the evening had been fun, full of laughter, and you just had way too much sweet juices, but nothing felt better than being back in the comfort of your own space.

you sat in the chair in front of the fan but just as you relaxed, your heart skipped a beat when you heard footsteps approaching. it was your boyfriend, fresh from his nap, looking so adorable as he walked towards you.

he was actually annoyed that you came home so late because you promised him sex but now that you're opening your arms wide so excitedly while greeting him...

his girl looks so good right now that he forgot he's pissed off.

he furrowed his brow, leaning down and gave you a quick kiss on the lips, then started placing soft kisses all over your face, making you giggle.

you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, eager to keep him close but ni-ki gently removed them so he could kiss your neck.

his hands moved to your thighs, gently pushing your skirt up as he crouched down to place more kisses on the soft flesh of your legs, you let out a chuckle at the ticklish sensation then he guided your hands into his hair.

ni-ki pulled back slightly, his lips were still hovering near your skin as he looked up at you,

"i'm so fucking horny, love."

he just woke up...

you blushed, he said it so straightforward that it turned you on right away, too.

"i've been waiting for you." ni-ki looked so serious, all you could do was to smile and nod your consent, "make me feel good first." you smirked, biting your own lips.

he leaned forward and let a stream of saliva drip from his mouth directly onto your panties, making it grew damp instantly and wet spot darkened the fabric.

and after he removed it, ni-ki couldn't help but admire your wet pussy, he touched it first to feel the texture of your slick that's in full display before him.

then he buried his face between your thighs, he couldn't wait to taste it, licking slowly up your slit, making you gasp and whimper softly.

his tongue started circling your clit before sucking it, he couldn't help but smile when he heard the cute silent noises that escaped your lips.

he stood up suddenly, you thought he was done but "come here." he said, tapping on the couch because his muscle just got tired, ni-ki gave you a kiss. "on my face, love..."

you hesitated for a moment but since you also wanted to cum... you obliged and sat on his waiting mouth.

you kept your weight mostly on your knees because what if he couldn't breathe? what if you accidentally ended up suffocating the poor boy?

but ni-ki also loves being squished between your thighs, so he slapped your ass. you gasped...did he just? but it made you sit completely in his face.

...oh my fucking god.

you groaned in delight as you settled more fully onto his face, his nose rubbed against your clit while his hands urged you to grind more against him.

and his skilled mouth quickly had you humping and riding his face shamelessly, "fuck, yes..."

wet sounds filled the room as he ate your pussy with long, deep strokes, really determined to make you cum on his face, your thighs clenched around his head and silent moans spilled from your lips.

he seemed to love making you a needy, writhing mess. your legs were quaking and your body were shuddering above him as he brought you to the brink of ecstasy.

and it didn't took long before your body stuttered, releasing all of your viscous juices into his mouth.

you collapsed beside ni-ki who licked his lips before taking off his shorts. your eyes widened at the sight of his thick, long cock springing free, looking flushed, and leaking at the tip.

and it curved towards his belly, big as your wrist, twitching between your bodies as he spread and pushed your legs up so he could position himself at your entrance.

ni-ki dragged his shaft through your soaked folds, coating it with your slick then rubbed the head against the puffy lips, parting them easily with his girth as he stroked himself above your pussy.

it felt amazing, the way he used your juices to jerk off in front of you. he continued to slide his dick along your slit, nudging your sensitive clit with each pass. "babe?"

you hummed.

"look how wet this is," he half-chuckled, half-moaned throwing his head back. his thick cock was pulsing, reaching his orgasm already.

you watched as he milked himself, his creamy cum dripping above your wet pussy then ni-ki started running his fingers through, mixing his cum with yours.

and it was so fucking beautiful.

he lifted his head to look at you. "fuuuck..." he whined, thinking about how mind-blowing that was even though he didn't even put it inside.

you chuckled, wiping the cum dripping down your stomach and thighs. "you're amazing." you kissed him.

ni-ki just grinned and pulled you in for a filthy kiss, he rubbed his half-hard cock gently at your oversensitive folds again.

"love... i just woke up, i'm not done with you yet."

ni-ki started swirling his tongue around your nipple before sucking it into his mouth. your back arched off, hands tugging his hair.

and you whimpered when he pulled away, you spread your legs wider as you rubbed and played your pussy.

his eyes slightly widened, "oh, my baby..." he whispered before pressing kisses down to your stomach then slid his tongue between your folds again before thrusting his dick inside you, drawing out the tip before slamming right back in.

"riki, hug me." you asked, which he happily did but tears leaked from your eyes as you came down, completely overwhelmed.

his grinding slowed down, "you okay, baby? did I hurt you?" he asked anxiously, wiping at your tears.

"n- no," you sniffled, burying your face in his neck. "you just fuck so good..."

"my bad, i just can't help it." he chuckled and kissed your forehead, he started moving inside faster but with more care, making sure you're okay before picking up the pace again.

your heart raced and your cunt clenched, you could feel another orgasm approaching but this time, you wanted to come together.

"babe... i'm gonna cum..." you moaned, clinging onto him.

"me too... wait, oh..." he groaned, his thrusting became erratic as he chased his own high. ni-ki pulled out carefully, panting heavily before collapsing on top of you.

"i didn't know i had it in me to make my girl cry like this."

you playfully smacked his arm, rolling your teary eyes as laughter escaped out of your lips. ni-ki only chuckled, pressing soft kisses along your cheeks, his heart swelled as he took in the sight of you, his sweetest thing.

a/n: these are some requests combined :) pnd - dreamin

マスターリストm.list

[oceantornadoo]

persephone (simon riley x f!reader) age gap, a bit coercive, dark

—

it started with fruit.

you were simon riley’s secretary, working for a man clouded in darkness and gold. you’d hear whispers on the street, see pitying faces when you mentioned who you worked for to strangers. to them, he was a cold, hard beast. to you, he was a king.

he started by bringing you fruit, pomegranate seeds and ghost-white pears. small quips about eating healthy now while you were still young enough. ms twenty something meets mr not-yet middle aged, the lines of his face just starting to crease but the beer belly nowhere to be found. he mined diamonds, you heard. he owned cemeteries, said another secretary. they call him ghost, whispered a personal assistant. you didn’t care, didn’t need to when that wasn’t your job.

he had scarred hands, craggly things winding into the cuff of his midnight black suits. didn’t wear a mask but always seemed to be covered in darkness, his face unrecognizable in half lit rooms and empty offices. he always stayed late so you did too, indulging in the extra car he ordered for you, his driver called charon. simon never held long conversations but simply beckoned you, some string in your belly pulling tight at his recognition. at least a third of his day spent with you, murmuring soft nothings, inquiring about your mother and the upcoming winter, the beauty in the death of the trees. “y’ smell like spring, love.” he’d said one morning, and you resolved to wear that same pomegranate spritz indefinitely.

and then it moved to jewels. congratulations on your one year preceded by a tennis bracelet. a trinket of a three headed dog, something small to keep on your desk. the hours draw on later and later, canceled plans with your mother and nymph-like friends piling up like leaves. his touch starts lingering, hard calluses on soft skin.

a hand on your back, guiding you into a conference room. your hair brushing against his torso, the intimacy of it jarring. you twisted your ankle one day, the height of your heels overindulgent. ended up on the couch in his private office, his hands massaging your foot. “like a delicate flower.” he’d murmured, rewarding you with an anklet of diamonds once the pain wore off.

three years in, an invite to his private island. no service, leave your phone at home. sign an nda, we’ll work remote, gone for a month maybe more. pack some nice clothes, maybe a white dress if you’ve got one. take my card if you don’t.

stepping off the helicopter, charon at the helm. you weren’t there against your will but the hairy arm around your waist was heavy, a reminder of the cost you’d paid to visit the underworld. two weeks in and you couldn’t even act surprised when he proposed, on one knee with a glint in his eyes. “you and me, love, against th’ world.”

and if you said yes to the fruit, the diamonds, the care, the attention - saying yes to this was just the next step. an elopement, he’d already drawn up the license - “why wait, dove? y’r so fragile already.” you’re not, have a hidden strength under you, but ghost doesn’t care, ghost takes what he wants, and you, legs spread and eyes soft, are it.

when he fucks you, that’s when it’s settled. cunt dripping on his fingers, his face, his cock. he mutters something about a vasectomy and you’re taking him bare, making eye contact with a ghostlike gardener who walks past the window. your jaw unhinged, drool at the corner of your mouth as he fucks you from behind, one hand on your throat.

“such a good secretary, hm?” and you nod ferociously like the three-headed puppy on your desk. you’ll never work again, too busy with his cock in your mouth or his remote vibrator in your cunt at dinner. the jewels drip into a roar - diamond encrusted toys you’re not sure are entirely safe, bejeweled handcuffs, glittery collars. he’s pluto, the riches of the earth following his orders when he chases you in his private woods. simon’s presence is otherworldly, taking you with the strength of a god as you squirm against his grip. his oldness disgusts you but makes you gush all the same. “gonna be good for daddy?” and you agree vehemently at the king before you, on his knees.

[kentosovertime]

𝔡𝔦𝔞𝔭𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔰 (adj.) light, translucent, and delicate

✨Masterlist | Tag List | Ask Box✨ ☽ toji blackmails shui's cute little girlfriend ☽ cw: noncon, cohersion, noncon filiming, explicit content

“What would he think, princess?” Toji’s tone drips with condescension as he backs you into a corner as the party’s music blasts in the background. His fingers move over his phone screen, as he coos down at you. “Would he call you a whore if he saw?”

Your eyes widen at the realization of what he’s placed in front of your face. You can still feel the ring of bruises that grace your hips and the sting at your scalp. His hands in the video grip meanly into the hair at the nape of your neck, guiding you back onto his bare cock. His cum already leaks from you as he works to pump more inside of you and you audibly mewl for more. 

He had lied that night, luring you under the guise of showing you something he bought for Shui. The second he had you in that room alone, he bent you over the nearest surface… and you had let him.

“D-delete that.” Your innocent little voice rings through the space, stammering cutely as you try to sound stern. Your hand tries to snatch at the phone, shame flooding your system. Shui can’t see that, no matter what. 

“Princess,” he chides, harshly grasping your wrist in mid air hauling you against his body. “Are you fuckin’ stupid?” 

A noise of protest bubbles out of your throat before his large hand smothers your mouth, barely allowing you to breathe through your nose. 

“You’re gonna let me do it again,” he starts, slipping the phone into his back pocket as he holds your mouth shut. “And we both know you’re gonna be just as tight and wet for me the second time.”

You squirm and press your thighs together. Tears spring to your eyes at how helpless you feel before they spill over onto his hand. You don’t want to want him to have his way with you, but your stomach flutters as his scarred lips quirks up at the corners. 

“Betraying Shui like this…” he tsks at you as he bunches the hem of your frilly dress in his hands. “It’d be enough to make the man cry.” 

You whine loudly from behind his hand as his fingers roughly push past the side of your panties, not waiting a second to work you up before his fingers spear your entrance. The messy squelching is enough to tell him how you really feel about what he’s doing to you. 

“Someone’s gonna come investigate if you don’t shut the fuck up.” Toji growls meanly, his pace becoming extra rough so he can punish you for any slip up. 

He doesn’t want his small window of time with your cute little pussy to be interrupted. He thinks its so fucking adorable how you fight back only to cum for him so easily minutes later. 

He’s so fucking mean and it makes you suck him even deeper. His digits expertly thrum against your sweet spot, making your knees wobble as you teeter close to the edge. But with one loud moan he takes it all away, making you regret making a peep as he yanks his fingers from you. 

“What did I tell ya?” He hisses and flips you, using your hips to spin you face first into the corner. Your face squishes against the hard plane of the cold wall. 

“‘M sorry,” you pant, squirming out of his hold. And like the game he thinks this is you beg for him to let you go even as your center screams for the attention he’s giving you. “T-Toji-”

“Saying my name,” He grunts, opening his pants to line himself up with you, “won’t make me stop.”

Without warning, his hips jerk forward, filling you to the brim with his cock. You cry out in discomfort, the burn almost too much to handle as your nails claw into the drywall beneath you.

“Shui-!” You moan mockingly, pissed that he’s telling you what to do when he’s the one corrupting you like this. 

A loud slap reverberates through the space. You yell out in pain before the heat spreads through you, making you clamp down on him. You pant, backing up into him to push him deeper. 

“Fuckin’ brat,” he growls and digs his fingers into the fat of your ass, drilling into you with hard, fast thrusts, caring little about whether you finish or not. This is about him showing you who you belong to. 

Your body jolts with each clap of his hips into your ass, your tears now staining your cheeks with how close his treatment has pulled you towards your orgasm. 

“Oh f-fuck-” you whimper, rocking back into him readily and willingly as tremors overtake your body. Your orgasm hits you hard and fast, the harsh treatment doing more than Shui’s gentle touch ever could. 

“There it fuckin’ is.” He gloats, a smug chuckle filling the space between you. “Gonna send you back to him full of me.”

You sag against the wall as his thrusts turn syncopated, favoring the harsh battering of your cervix as he empties himself into you. As he stills, he pants in exertion, delivering another rough smack to your ass, effectively dismissing you.

“Go find your boy toy, princess. I’m sure he’s searching for you by now.”

tag list: @sugarbooger513 @sugarmapoops @roughwithfluff @silversslut @dreamyyholland @wobblewobble822 @rafzaha @chososhoney @littlemochi @bebechinas99 @saoney @meromelo @pelicanpizza @katgalle @honeyyjems @tsukikoxo @adequate-superstar @thytourturedpoet [[ if your blog name is crossed out i couldn't tag you]]

[wendichester]

⊹ ࣪ ˖ two winchesters walk into a bar³,

summary. making a quick stop at harvelle’s has never been more fun

pairing. dean winchester x jo's cousin!reader genre. filty smut ( mdni )

wordcount. 1816

notes / warnings. explicit sexual content, semi-public sex (in the impala), unprotected p in v, dom!dean whooop!!, overstimulation, manhandling, body fluids yuck, still shitty cousins 🤭

ᯓ★ read part 1, part 2

The moment the Impala door slams behind you, you’re already climbing into his lap like you’ve got a death wish.

Dean’s hands find your hips and grip, yanking you down against the hard line of him, dragging a groan straight out of his throat. “Goddamn,” he pants. “You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me.”

You grind against him shamelessly, still wet, underwear shoved aside like it was never supposed to be in the equation. His jeans are rough under you, the zipper dragging, and all you can think about is how fast you want them gone.

“You owe me,” you hiss, breath hitching as he presses his mouth to your throat. “You started this shit.”

“And I’m gonna finish it.” His voice is wrecked. “Turn around.”

You blink. “What?”

He leans in, breath hot against your cheek. “Backseat. Now.”

Oh.

Oh.

You crawl awkwardly into the backseat, dress hiked, hair wild, heart threatening to detonate. The leather sticks to your thighs. Your pulse is in your mouth.

Dean follows fast — climbing in after you with a speed that’s almost feral. His hands slide up your thighs again, spreading you wide with zero shame, and he curses under his breath when he sees just how soaked you are.

“Shit, sweetheart… this all for me?”

You nod into the seat, breathless. “Dean—”

His fingers are back inside you before you finish. Two. Deep. Crooked just right. And you cry out — loud, unfiltered.

“That’s it,” he growls. “Let me hear it.”

You’re not quiet. Not anymore. Not when he fucks you with his fingers like he’s starving, palm grinding against your clit, other hand fisting in your hair to pull your head back just enough for him to watch your face in the window’s reflection.

“You feel that?” he hisses. “That’s how bad you were teasing me. Dripping. In public.”

“Dean—fuck—” you gasp, hips rocking back into his hand.

“I wanted to bend you over that table, didn’t even care who was watching.”

You cry out again as he curls his fingers hard, and your whole body shudders.

He pulls his hand away suddenly and you whimper at the loss — until you hear it.

The sound of his belt.

And then the unzip.

And then—

“Gonna fuck you now, baby,” he breathes.

Dean growls like an animal and shifts beneath you. His cock springs free, thick and flushed, already leaking. He grabs you by the hips and drags you down onto him — one long, slow, burning slide that steals your air completely.

Your nails dig into his shoulders. “Oh my God—”

He lets out a groan so deep you feel it in your spine. “That’s it. Take it, sweetheart.”

The stretch is maddening — delicious and overwhelming. He fills you completely, buried to the hilt, and neither of you moves for a second. Just panting. Just shaking.

Then he snaps his hips up.

You wail.

“Shh, baby,” he hisses against your ear, even though there’s no one around now. “Don’t wanna get caught, do you?”

You shake your head, but you’re lying, and he knows it.

He fucks up into you hard, fast, merciless — and the car rocks with every thrust. His fingers are bruising your hips now, guiding you, making you ride him with all the rhythm of a man on a mission.

“You were so cocky in there,” he pants, biting down on your earlobe. “All that mouth. Now look at you.”

You’re moaning into his neck, trembling, barely able to keep up with his pace. His cock hits deep — deeper than anyone ever has — and your clit drags against the edge of his pelvis just right.

“Dean—oh, fuck—I’m gonna—”

“You’re gonna what?” He’s wrecked, voice low and mean. “Come? Already?”

You nod, dizzy, desperate.

“Do it.” He licks into your mouth like he owns it. “Come all over me. Right fucking now.”

You shatter.

Loud. Shaking. Pussy clenching around him so tight it pulls a snarl from his chest.

“That’s it,” he groans. “Just like that. Jesus fuckin’—you’re unreal.”

You slump against him, boneless, but he’s not done.

He shifts — one hand on the small of your back, the other gripping your thigh — and starts fucking up into you with brutal precision. Sharp, fast, punishing thrusts.

You’re a mess in his lap, hands clawing at his shoulders, slick dripping down your thighs as he pounds up into you like he owns every inch of your body — and God, maybe he does. You’ve lost track of everything. Time. Space. Language. It’s just the stretch of him, the slap of skin, the sound of his voice wrecking your name over and over again.

“Fuck—feel that, baby? Hear how wet you are for me?” he groans, lips brushing your neck, “You’re drippin’ all over me—fuck, you’re so tight—squeezin’ me like that—”

You can’t speak. Can’t think. The Impala’s windows are fogged over, your dress is hiked up to your waist, and every time you drop back down, it feels like you’re splitting open on his cock in the best way.

His hand sneaks between you, thumb brushing over your clit, and you jerk — body spasming with another wave crashing through you. He doesn’t even slow down, just catches your whimper in a kiss and keeps thrusting, harder, faster, chasing it now.

“Look at you,” he pants against your lips. “Taking it all like a good girl. Riding me so fuckin’ sweet—fuck—”

You feel it — the tension in his thighs, the way his hands grip your hips like he’s trying not to lose control. And just when you feel him throb inside you—

He curses under his breath and pulls out, fast, groaning deep in his chest.

One stroke.

Two.

And then he’s spilling across your stomach and thighs, hot and heavy, jaw clenched tight as his body convulses beneath you. He watches the whole thing with hooded eyes, lips parted, chest heaving. It hits your skin in thick, messy spurts, dripping down where your bodies were just joined, a filthy echo of how deep he’d been.

You collapse forward, boneless, your hands braced on his chest as you pant against his collarbone.

Dean swipes a hand across your stomach — not even with a napkin — and lifts his fingers to your mouth, letting you suck them clean like you’re starving.

“Jesus,” he mutters.

You grin, wicked and glowing. “That was a prayer, right? Sounded like one.”

He kisses your cheek, surprisingly soft. “You okay?”

You nod, dazed. “Ruined. But yeah.”

Dean tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, still smug as hell. “Next time, you’re riding me in the front seat.”

You raise a brow. “And if Jo sees?”

He chuckles darkly. “Let her. We both know she already wants to kill me.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re still not moving. Neither is he.

His palm drifts down your thigh, lazy now. No rush. Just that warm, lingering touch that says he’s not quite ready to let go yet.

Outside, the cicadas buzz. The Impala ticks as it cools.

And you? You’re sitting half-naked in Dean Winchester’s lap, smeared with his come, pulsing between your legs, and feeling more alive than you have in months.

You’re still breathing heavy, thighs shaking, when Dean tucks you closer into his chest — like you didn’t just ride him into oblivion in the backseat of his car.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, grabbing an old flannel from the floorboards — soft from age, smelling like him and motor oil and sweat. He dabs gently at your stomach, cleaning you up with the kind of reverence that makes your throat tighten.

You glance down at the mess — at the streaks of him painting your skin. “This is disgusting,” you whisper, but you’re grinning.

He tilts your chin up with two fingers. “Nah. This?” He looks down at your belly, at the sticky evidence of what just happened. “This is fucking art.”

You swat his chest, cheeks burning. “You’re impossible.”

“Mm. And you’re beautiful when you’re wrecked,” he says, eyes roaming your face like he’s already thinking about round two. “Especially knowing you’re sore ‘cause of me.”

Your stomach flips.

Once you’re cleaned up — as much as two people can be in the back of a ‘67 Chevy with no wipes and a sin problem — Dean helps you climb off his lap, hands lingering a second too long on your hips.

You fix your dress. Or try to. The hem won’t stay straight, your panties are MIA (God help them), and you’ve got that freshly-fucked glow that no amount of blotting powder’s gonna hide.

Dean’s already zipping up his jeans, smug as sin, one hand running through his sex-mussed hair. “You ready?”

“Absolutely not,” you mumble. “My legs don’t work.”

He throws his head back and laughs — big and unbothered. Then he leans in, kisses your cheek, and says it low enough that your bones vibrate:

“I’ll carry you if I have to.”

By the time you both step out of the car, you’ve almost composed yourself. Almost.

Your hair’s down now to cover your neck, your lipstick’s half-gone, and you’ve got that dazed, “I just got railed in a national treasure of an automobile” look written all over your face. Dean’s no better — shirt still rumpled, pupils blown, that crooked smirk barely contained.

“You good?” he murmurs, offering his arm like a gentleman from hell.

“Do I look good?” you hiss, adjusting your dress.

He winks. “You look like you had a religious experience.”

You glare. “You made me leave my underwear in your car.”

“And I plan to frame them. Next to my fake FBI badge.”

You swat him. He grins.

When you walk back into Harvelle’s, the jukebox’s still whining a classic rock ballad, and Jo’s still behind the bar, scrubbing at the counter like it insulted her mother.

She clocks you instantly. Her eyes narrow. Then they narrow more.

Dean strolls in like he just got back from buying a pack of gum, snagging a beer from the cooler and popping it open one-handed.

You trail behind him, trying not to limp.

“Where the hell did you two go?” Jo asks, flat.

Dean doesn’t blink. “Smoke break.”

Jo glances out the window. “Neither of you smoke.”

Dean sips his beer. “We do now.”

You shoot him a look. He just smiles over the rim of his bottle, like he didn’t just wreck you six ways to Sunday in the backseat of his car while Jo was twenty feet away.

She turns to you slowly. Eyes narrowing.

You shrug, forcing a smile. “Dean gave me a tour. Of the Impala.”

Jo stares at you. “How thorough was this tour?”

Dean raises his brows. “Very.”

You kick him under the table.

Jo sighs like she’s aged a decade. “I need a fucking break.”

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

[defmaybe]

Be Sweet

TWICE’s Myoi Mina x Male Reader

5.1k words

Part Two of Untitled Mina Series

Talk Too Much | Be Sweet

Title Inspired by Japanese Breakfast’s Be Sweet

You, like Rome, weren’t built in a day.

But you sure can collapse in an hour.

—

Anything for your mommy.

The room is filled with the scent of sweat and fading air purifier. The evening sunlight drapes over, casting orange hues on the wall. Silence takes over. 

It’s serene. 

It’s calming.

But this is not the end of the road.

Your body twitches against Mina’s, face lying next to the spit-soaked cock you just sucked mere minutes ago. The saliva drips down to the floor, adding more to the filth puddle. You’re voiceless, throat ravaged by her thrusts. Mina’s hand rests on your face, thumb swiping at your temple fondly. Warmth ripples through your body with each touch. The entire world disappears. It’s just you and her. You feel so secure.

“You’ve been such a good boy for mommy, you know that?” Mina coos, kneeling down to face you. She’s just so immaculate—sharp eyeliner, soft cheeks, red lips. She’s the opposite of what you are—tired eyes, drool-slicked mouth, debauched face. Her thumb rubs on your cheek lovingly, so gentle. “One more hole for mommy, can you do that?”

Your expression melts, nuzzling against her palm, whimpering. 

You’re just beyond saving.

“Yes, mommy.”

Mina smiles, planting a tender kiss on your forehead. It’s gentle. It’s compassionate. You just close your eyes, letting her love flood your heart. The same love that wrecked your mouth, broke you into pieces.

She stands up, giving you her hand. Her poise is still as confident as ever. You’re lost in every movement of hers.

“Come on, I wanna show you something,” she says, smiling.

You reach for her hand, slowly getting up from your knees. Not a single idea where she’ll take you. 

But you trust her. 

Your legs are sore as you try to stand up. It hurts, but you’re on your feet, upright, eventually. You gain back the only thing you have against her, your height. She gives you an approving look, and you just smile weakly as a reply. 

Mina takes a step, leading you away from the desk. Her hand pulls you towards her. You follow her trail, making sure not to place your feet in the pool of your saliva. Each step feels heavy, ache and all. 

She guides you to the window, letting you take in everything outside. You stand by her side, watching the sunset cast an orange hue all over the sky. The skyline is gorgeous—skyscrapers intercut with the mountain far away. People are going back to their homes—so chaotic, so bustling. Cars are stuck in traffic; red lights are everywhere. Birds are flying back to their nests. You take in the view.

And it’s just a sight for sore eyes.

Suddenly, you feel hands at your belt—Mina’s. It comes off so easily. Her face is focused—eyes trained on your crotch, lips pressed together. She’s cold. She’s competent. She’s a professional. In a second, the zipper is pulled down, and your pants pool on the floor. 

Your erection pokes the fabric of your boxers—a tent, to describe. It twitches. A dark spot has already formed at the peak. The waistline strains, creating that small window for somebody to peer inside.

“Looks big,” Mina scoffs. “Shame that it won’t be inside me soon.” 

Oh, it’s happening again. The humiliation. The roughness. The punishment.

You say nothing. Your voice isn't a parameter here, anyway. Mina grabs the edge of your boxers, pulling it down with ease. Your cock springs free from its fabric cage, leaving you exposed—to her, to the city. A free demo from Mina’s window, maybe some in-app purchases for the full experience.

“Hands on the window,” she orders—sleek, direct. Mina circles around, positioning herself behind you. Once again, dread blights your blood. Your body quivers uncontrollably. Still, you press your hands against the window, eyes taking in the view down below. Everybody has their duties—work, chores, family. They’re anchored to something. They’re worthy of something.

And for you?

It’s being your boss’ slut.

“Ooh, nice view,” Mina sings, before stepping away. You remain still, though, waiting for that punishment to crash on you. You hear a rustling sound of fabric behind you, and in confusion, you look back. 

Mina is holding her phone. 

She can do so many things with it, but oh, you’re so sure what she’s going to do.

“I love sunsets,” Mina hums, stepping towards you again. You watch as she holds the bottom corner of her screen for a second, before lifting the phone towards you.

Off-PDF documentation, JPEG format.

Or worse, MOV.

You feel her free hand grab your waist. You flinch; that warmth is not comforting anymore. “Look outside,” she says, and you just comply. Once again, you’re met with the peaceful chaos of the city—people walking, stuck cars, tree branches swaying with the wind. The tip of her wet cock ghosts near your cheeks. You can see her reflection in the window, aiming her weapons at you.

“Oh” — she moves her camera down slightly — “did I mention that I also love backshots?”

No response returned, just a whimper against the window.

“Wait a second, gotta compose this a bit,” Mina muses, and you watch her angling the camera—from the top, face-level, from below. She ponders, dragging that dread storming inside you. It’s probably the mood she’s going for, though. Looks good in black and white.

“There we go.”

Her phone hovers near your head-level, a few steps back. You’re probably slightly off-center—artistic choice. She’s in the frame too. Director-actor vibes. The shiver won’t make it blurry; the shutter speed will be high enough with the sun still up. Portrait, not landscape, makes the edge line up with the window.

“One. Two. Three!”

Click.

That’s it.

That’s your legacy—an overtime whore.

She hums, “Pretty good, love the light. I’ll send it to you after you finish cumming.”

Now, that’s some levity. You get to cum.

“Oh, I need another photo before I put it in. Do you mind?” Mina asks—so casually, like borrowing a pen. 

The possibilities reel through your mind. A selfie? A couple photo? Another backshot? It’s not your business. You’re just an actor here—just follow the script. 

“No, mommy.”

Mina giggles softly. “Good boy. Now, spread your legs just a little for me, please. Need some negative space here.”

Shaken, you take a deep breath and part your legs slightly. Your sneakers rustle. The clothes between your ankles stretch. Cold air teases the gap. You shiver.

“A triangle, gorgeous.”

In the reflection, you watch her kneel, pointing her camera at your exposed ass. Her breath brushes against your cheeks—warm, terrifying. Your legs quiver. Again, it probably won’t mess with the photo. The sun’s still up. The shutter speed’s high.

“One. Two. Three.”

Click.

Second picture of the album—should look good when her iPhone decides to create a memory for today.

“Those little stretch marks really add to the texture. You look more human with it,” Mina coos, standing back up behind you, looking as immaculate as ever. It’s an honor that she chose you as a subject for this disciplinary procedure. Hell, you get money for this.

She finds grips on your back, her phone still in hand. The warmth of her skin emanates against your body. She begins to close in. Her cock presses between your cheeks—still soaked with your filth. Her thighs blend into yours. Her sneakers nudge your legs wider. Oh, it’s happening.

Heterosexual masculinity has taught you to avoid putting phallic objects into your anus—dismissing the idea as an Achillean activity. Growing up, you and your friends have threaded on this topic not as anything more than a punchline—reinforcing harmful stereotypes, alienating queer people, and further pushing society backwards in time. Sure, you’ve become one of the kinder—accepting, loving. Still, the disease lingers.

And today, you’ll be cured.

At the instant her slick tip touches the rim of your snug hole, you squirm, shriek, contort in a way you’ve never done. Your nails are pushed against the glass. Your eyes flutter uncontrollably. Your mouth opens wide, freeing that deep, animalistic groan from your lungs. Drool leaks. Your entire body spasms.

Then she pushes.

Her head breaks through the opening, stretching you wide for the first time in your life. It’s unravelling, an identity rebuild, a dictum you’ve always rejected. A whorish, grotesque moan leaves your lips, lighting the room up brighter than the setting sun. Your body crumbles in her grips. Deeper. Another whimper slips out. Tears fall. Deeper. Your legs almost give in, thighs pressing together, hoping to relieve some of this sensation. It doesn’t subside. Deeper. It hits the spot you’ve never known existed, sending that lightning through your nerves, and a whine slips. Her thighs press into yours. She’s at the hilt.

Another of your virginity taken—stolen not by a goddess, just a thief.

A woman with a cock.

Never have you challenged traditional, and somehow still contemporary, masculinity like this. It feels full. Her cock feels full. She’s spreading you open with ease, with your own spit. Natural-based lube. Her phone lies on your back idly, held by her hands gripping your back. Her breathing is calm, so unfazed by the fact that she’s taking the virginity of someone who’s on overtime pay. Not even a moan. Her thighs blend into yours, fused into one—a corporate recondition. She stays just there—letting you feel how her cock finds its home, letting you feel how small you are, letting you feel that high-end harlot experience. 

“Do you think they’ll see me through the window?” 

That’s all Mina asks, after putting an entire cock inside you. She dismantled you. She manipulated you. She rebooted you, and that’s all she just asked.

“I have an image to keep, just gotta make sure that I look good if the photos are leaked,” she continues, sweeping her hair up as she looks at the window. Her forehead would look better covered in bangs, you think, but it’s like an A and A+ situation, The-Road-to-El-Dorado-both-are-good styling. You say nothing, just let your ass warm her fake cock helplessly. That shock from the first nudge of your prostate fades, replaced by the small spasms in your body—lips, arms, legs. Aftershocks from the epicenter, in other words.

“Oh, yeah, I totally forgot about this,” Mina muses, picking up her phone from your back. She points the camera at the window, with you, with her reflection.

Click.

No countdown this time. You don’t smile, still twitching with her cock mashing your core—eyelids, toes, cock (and its dripping precum). Your ass warms her cock nicely, being molded in real time, after all. Breathless huffs leak out of your lips onto the window—foggy. She holds her finger on the screen, and you hear a moan from the back. 

It’s yours, captured in JPEG plus MOV—a live photo.

“I’ll favorite it.” Friends, family, maybe her pet. Then there’s you getting bottomed out in the folder. Oh, to belong among those she cherishes. It’s difficult to find something this authentic in adulthood. So, be grateful for it.

“Can I pull out now?”

You gulp, tears falling down your cheeks. It’s stretching you out so badly, and you don’t think you can take it for a second longer before you collapse. “Yes, mommy. Please.”

Mina chortles, reaching forward for another hair ruffle. “Since you asked so nicely.”

The pressure fades. You let out a breath you didn’t realize that you’ve been holding. Another whine escapes your lips. Her cock rubs against your walls. You tremble—legs sore, toes curl—and she drags it out until only the tip remains. It feels hollow inside you, as if her cock was sculpted to fulfill the space. It’s not freedom. It’s not a relief. It’s emptiness.

She lets it rest, holding you in place against the window, against the evening sun. Orange light drapes over you, being a spotlight for the still-ignorant public eyes. Silence makes room for your gasps for air. The scent of your bodies lingers, blending with the decaying air purifier. Your frame strains—not violent, but the tension in your muscles persists. You don’t dare look back. Your cock gushes precum out of the slit. Your heart races, and your mind collapses.

“You waited for me, didn’t you? Saving yourself for my cock,” Mina coos, tracing circles lazily on your back.

Weakly, breathless, “Yes, mommy.”

Mina smiles in the reflection, clearly satisfied with your answer. “Aw, I’m very proud of you! I just know that you’ll wait for my cock,” she praises, and your heart floats once more. It’s a façade, you are aware, but with how vulnerable you are, every word is sweet.

“Thanks, mommy,” you murmur, fogging the window.

“Mommy’s gonna fuck you properly now, alright? I’m gonna make you gape by the time we’re done. How does that sound?” Mina asks, gripping your waist harsher. Her phone gets buried in your skin.

You stammer, “Okay, mommy.”

She chuckles. It looks sincere enough. “Alright, mommy will push it in again.” Not a request, rather a declaration, and you can only nod.

It’s not as mind-breaking as the first time—virginity already gone, hole already loose. Her cock violates you with a little more ease. Not that your responses are anything less, though. Another set of your stuttered moans fill the room. Your back arches. Breathing becomes harder. Your nails are pressed against the window. Standing upright is a privilege. Your face contorts. 

She pushes in deeper. It begins to crush your prostate again. Your moans become a loud gasp—eyes flutter, mouth hanging open. Your legs can’t bear your weight anymore. Air is knocked out of your lungs—empty. Your feet twist at the sensation. Another lightning strikes through your body, and you’re sure that you’ll become ashes by the time this ends.

Your body is collapsing—a befitting end along with your dignity.

She pulls back. Your prostate relaxes. Her cock grazes your walls, ruining your nerves with ease, with your own spit. You get to breathe once more. Your vision becomes clearer.

But that’s just the beginning of the loop.

She thrusts back into you—harsh, unyielding. She moans as the other end starts to hit her G-spot. You moan under the concoction of pain and pleasure. Her grips tremble softly as a flash of ecstasy shines in front of her. Your body spasms as her cock sends another ripple to yours—a request for orgasm. She drags back—slow, deliberate. You relax.

And another thrust. You whimper. A pull. You sigh. And another thrust. Your body melts.

Mina starts to find her tempo on you—a vicious cycle of pulling and pushing. Your responses become periodic—a moan, an eye flutter, a squirm. The sound of your thighs clapping together reverberates through the room—ugly, debased, corrupt. Her phone claps against your waist. Your cock swings helplessly, spreading precum everywhere. Your prostate gets attacked in a rhythm; the need for orgasm ascends. She lets out a soft moan every time she bottoms out your ass. She’s enjoying this as much as you do. She can collapse just like you do. But a complete rewrite? Of course not. She’s the one who writes you—fixing that buggy source code.

Suddenly, Mina picks up her phone. Another hold at the bottom corner—not a flashlight. One more JPEG. The thrusts remain precise, consistent, barraging on your prostate with no relent. She tilts her head away slightly before setting the front camera in front of her. Her obsession with digital permanence is a wonder, and you don’t have a say in it. You’re just her object—to be archived, to be favorited, to be fucked.

“And we’re going live in three, two, one.”

Oh, wait.

Oh.

It’s a motion picture, a documentary of your identity loss. She presses record. The tape rolls. 

“Hi, this is Myoi Mina from BBC, live from inside my office,” she says, moans leaking out, greeting her zero audiences at home (number may fluctuate later, directly varying with the number of shares), smiling oh-so-casually to her camera.

“Oh,” and she laughs, so full of charisma. It’d look much better if her cock isn’t rearranging your guts like this, “not that BBC, that one’s inside him right now.”

Yes and no. Ones and zeroes. Compressed into pixels. Labeled with a file name. That’s you.

“Today, we’re going to do an interview with a UX plus UI designer with multiple projects under his wings,” Mina narrates, showing no signs of slowing down her thrusts, “plus an overtime asset for his boss. You need more than one job in this economy.”

Her phone flips, camera back at you. Streams of bits enter her phone, all organized into visuals of your ass being pounded into oblivion, and the audio of your whorish moans.

“Good evening!” Mina greets you with a lilt that belonged to the graduation party. Good times. Still in contention for the third place alongside this boycunt-reshaping session.

Feebly, airy, not at all broadcast-ready, “Good evening, Miss Myoi.” 

Mina chuckles, before landing a slap on your ass. Pain, you yelp—a spike on the decibel graph. “What a forward young man you are! Calling me by my name like this.”

A lesson on air, available for studying later in case you didn’t catch it in class. Her thrusts become harsher, making your stomach churn from the intensity. Your moans grow louder, so are hers. There’s a difference to them, though—a squeak and a roar. Your breath quickens. Your legs are giving in. Your cock twitches with every punch, squirting precum onto the floor. You’re losing without putting up any fight.

“You can’t just go around and call women like that! And to my audiences at home, I’m deeply sorry for his behavior. I’ll discipline him,” Mina says, putting up an apologetic face to the camera. “Now, I’ll give you another chance. Please refer to me with respect, or I would have to halt this backend rewrite.”

The camera is still rolling, capturing your impertinence. It’s a part of a hero’s journey, really—challenges and temptations to transform you into something else. A patriarchy’s practitioner to a cockslut. Great arc. A story worth telling through generations.

“The audiences are waiting,” Mina hurries you, the hand on your waist squeezing it. The ethics professors are going to eat it up, using it as a case study: The Usage of Trauma for Engagements. 

The media has desensitized people to these images—grief, wrath, mania—and you’ve befallen to become another subject of it. A spectacle, the kind that doesn’t dare to retaliate.

(See: Jordan Peele’s Nope, for the punishment of the obsessed, those who let spectacle consume them—mostly literally.)

“Good evening, mommy.”

Her smile brightens, patting your waist softly. “Good boy. Now, let’s ask you a few questions.”

The first interview of your life and you’re getting your ass railed against the window. A great core memory.

“First question, let’s start … mmm … simple. How do you handle multiple jobs? UX designer, UI designer, and the head of the stress relief department! It’s just really fascinating to me,” Mina asks.

You grit your teeth, trying to stabilize your thoughts under the tremors. Managing the first two isn’t difficult, lots of overlaps: Figma, prototyping, system software design. The third one, now that’s new: no computer, just having a cock inside you for an hour, fifty percent increase in hourly rate. University didn’t teach you how to handle this edge case.

“It’s–It’s a little difficult sometimes, Miss … mommy,” you answer, trying to stay true to yourself. “But I–I believe in lifelong learning, and–and I always try to improve.”

“Ooh, that’s a really good answer. Lifelong learning is important these days,” Mina adds with an approving smile, her rhythm not wavering. “Now, for the second question, how does it feel like to get an overhaul, both frontend and backend?”

“I feel,” and you pause, searching for the definition in your blown-out mind right now. It’s helpless how she penetrates your ass without any relent. It’s embarrassing how you’ve become a sequence of zeros and ones inside her internal storage. It’s terrifying, how she talks, questions, and comforts you. But the most important of all? It’s ecstatic how your prostate is getting ravaged against the mirror, each jab sending synapses-shattering sensation through you, and to resist it is just an outdated protocol.

“Good. I feel good, mommy.”

She squints, as if to press more from you. “Would you kindly elaborate more on ‘good’? Let’s say how does it feel having your mouth busy? Or how does it feel when your organs are being rearranged?”

Faint, “I–I love it, mommy. I love your cock in my mouth. I love having your cock fucking my boypussy.”

Mina chuckles, clearly satisfied with your collapse. “Wow, he has come so far in thirty minutes! From a macho, foul-mouthed man to an overtime asset.”

The Oscars judges are going to eat this arc up. Definitely going to be nominated for Best Hole. A pioneer for the new award category. The stunts category truthers are going to weep when you’re on the stage before them.

“Alright, next question. Would you say that having your mouth shut … wow, this question is long … can be a substitute for the lack of humanity-related subjects within your engineering faculty?”

Well, that’s harsh, but true. The closest thing you’ve had to a proper study on the human condition was your law class. You got a B-plus. What the hell. Sure. Great. Congratulations, but you’re no match for the complex, ever-evolving human behavior. Too busy buried in Figma and sexually harassing your boss.

“I–I agree with that, Miss … mommy,” you mutter.

Mina nods, still undoing your insides so methodically. “Mmm, this elective course must’ve been worth a lot of credits!” she muses. Her rhythm quickens, escalating the prostate onslaught, chasing her precipice. Your tongue hangs out of your mouth lifelessly, shaking along with the motion of your body. Your eyes blur; colors blend into hazy hues under the evening sun. Your nerves heat up, vibrating with each of her strikes, so goddamn close to overdrive.

“Fourth question,” Mina says, spreading your ass wide with her free hand before letting them go. It jiggles slightly against her cock. Your body bends to the side. “Would you be open to a corporate-wide testing session on you? You’ll get paid for this, don’t worry.”

Another company benefit for women—menstruation rest, maternity leave, and a high-end sex worker who happens to know JS. Everything’s covered by the company. They deserve it, really.

And it’s like you can say no to spending your hole’s tightness away for this salary, plus overtime. “I’d–I’d be open to that, mommy.”

“Well, I don’t think he’ll be needed in front of his computer anymore, to care is to share,” and she laughs—a boomer-seeing-a-Facebook-post laugh, so content with herself. Your orgasm almost catches up to you. Her cock keeps pounding you recklessly. The tension in your stomach coils up, ready to spring free. It’s heavy, and you’re not so certain if you can hold it for any longer.

“And … last question!” Mina utters, her moans growing louder as her movement reaches its precipice. Her hand grips on your ass tighter. The softness in her thrusts is long gone, making your prostate cry out, begging for release. It’s fascinating how she can keep her composure at this point.

“With everything I’ve done to you—your mouth, your ass, and your male brain—would you still consider yourself a man?”

Your breath hitches. And the day reels—from the flirty words, to your eyes locking on her strap, black, to you gagging on it, to her cumming on your mouth, to the photos, to her first thrust, virginity gone. It’s an undoing. It’s a cleansing of your masculinity. It’s a rewriting from the source code. And you’re only a spectator of it.

“I’m–I’m—”

Your cable is yanked off the back of your head. A kidnapping from artificial paradise. Or freedom. Your choice.

You gasp, and you’re awake for the first time. 

The first white of your cum paints the window—a streak, a taint, a stroke of brush. A single color, countless meanings. You are overloaded with this unfamiliar sensation under your old shell, and utterly dumbfounded still isn’t enough to describe this explosion. Your tongue hangs off your mouth mindlessly. Your eyes roll into the back of your head. A corporate-aided ahegao. You used to shame women for doing that. Then another spurt off your cock, hitting just below the first, another master stroke from Mina’s length. She continues to spread you open, squeezing ivory out of your slit. The window is being painted with your filth. Third, softer, still beautiful. Then fourth. Then fifth. Then you lost count. Not so used to this new brain yet. 

Oh, Deakins is going to love this—your shaking legs, the glass, your cum, under the sunset.

You slow down. It drips off your cock down to the floor. Your forehead presses against the glass, stamping it with a layer of sweat. Your fingers spread out. The window fogs up with your breath. Your chest heaves. Your legs wobble.

But Mina’s not done.

One hand is on her phone, capturing your rebirth; another is on your ass, gripping it so tightly. Oversensitivity begins to crash over you. Pain blights your nerves. You groan. Mina is chasing her orgasm, and she’s not going to leave your ass right now.

And she yelps, and you can feel her hand tremble on your cheek. She’s cumming, not as violent as the first, but it’s there. You hear her voice crack. You can see her head falling back slightly—a fracture, one that isn’t meant to be exploited. It’s reminding you of how you’re dominated by a mortal—neither a deity nor a machine—and it’s much, much more terrifying this way.

“And–And this is Myoi Mina from BBC reporting. Thanks for watching,” Mina rasps, head still hanging off her neck behind you.

Cut.

She straightens her head back, eyes all coated with desire. Her cock rests inside you. She’s smiling, satisfied with her product—an obliterated soul in the shell of a fucked-out man. You’re just not sure who you are anymore.

Weakly, “Mommy.”

Mina chuckles, slowly dragging her shaft out of your needy hole. Wet sounds can be heard from the back, and finally, the tip leaves you with a quiet pop. You can feel your tightness heaving, missing its filling. 

Her cock is made for your ass

To penetrate. To mold. To destroy.

She kneels down, aiming her phone through your legs. They wobble under your crushing weight, but the sun hasn’t gone. The shutter speed will be sufficient for a nice photo.

“One. Two. Three.”

Click.

You watch Mina smiling on the reflection as she looks at her screen. Whatever it is, she’s satisfied.

“You can sit now,” Mina orders, eyes still on her phone.

You collapse, sitting on the floor, face barely touching the cum dripping down the glass. Your back hunches; that's bad posture. You breathe feebly, fogging the painted window—an unorthodox masterpiece. The smell of sex and sweat fills your nostrils. Mina kneels beside you, examining your face, and she just smiles. You’re a soul reconstructed by another soul into something else, and you’re horrified by the fact that you can’t just make sense of what you’ve become.

“Wanna see the before-after photos?” Mina asks, voice shaken slightly, just enough to remind you of her humanity, not enough to show any weakness. You don’t answer, and she knows you won’t. Mina shoves her phone in front of your face. “This is before.”

You, your legs, to be exact, are spreading slightly for the sun to set between them, joined by the city’s skyline. Orange is all over the frame—so serene, so gorgeous. Favorited.

“And this is after.”

Your legs’ positions are a little different, but still spreading slightly for the sun to set between them. It’s a little lower than before. Orange is all over the frame, but with the white of your cum painted on the window. Orange and white—so serene, so gorgeous, so harmonious. Favorited.

Mom, dad, friends, then your legs in front of the sunset, then another one, tinted with cum. Glorious.

“Let’s see if Pam will still say that they’re the same picture.”

Mina then swipes down, revealing the screen full of your debauched face—eyes barely opening, drool dripping down to the floor. You just stare at it, letting the image of your skin linger in your barely functional brain.

Is this really who you are?

“Alright, smile!” Mina sings, her free hand pushing the edge of your lips up on one side. You’re too fucked-out to work on the other side, though.

“That’ll work,” she says with a shrug. “One. Two. Three.”

Click.

That’s you—ruined, astounded, conflicted, permanent.

Mina pulls her phone back, navigating through it with her fingers. “Overtime … whore,” she mumbles, before tapping her screen a few more times. Suddenly, you feel a buzz in your pocket, your phone.

Again, she shoves her phone in front of you, showing what seems to be your general Slack channel. Everybody in your department is there, and they can see—

Oh.

Oh.

You’re the most recent message. Or, to be exact, your ruined, slick face is the most recent message.

As a fucking custom emoji.

Mina taps on it. The information pops up.

:overtimeWhore:

Fuck, it’s even in camel case.

:overtimeWhore:

Another one from someone else, shit.

:overtimeWhore:

Fuck.

Mina just chuckles as your co-workers begin to type.

“Now, everyone can use you, even if it’s just on Slack,” Mina says, before pulling her phone back and working on it a little more. You’re permanent, at least until Mina decides to delete it (which is definitely going to be never). 

And again, you feel buzzes in your pocket, your phone. Your body twitches, as if being shocked.

“I sent the photos in case you wanna keep it. I don’t mind, either way,” Mina muses.

Here you are, an artifact to be preserved—your shell, at least. Your mind is shattered into pieces by a single piece of plastic, and your body seems to respond well, as seen on the window, so Pollock-esque. Blacking out is a better fate than this, better than a loss of identity, better than having your manliness dissolved, better than being hung between other tailored Slack emojis. You’re being reduced to an object, being archived, being used, being transformed. Your body has never been yours since the start. It’s hers. It’s all hers.

With your collected breath, “Mommy.”

“Don’t–Don’t fucking ‘mommy’ me. Just because you’re favorited doesn’t–doesn’t mean I accept you,” Mina scoffs with a slight tremble. “All of this is just a disciplinary measure.”

Oh.

It has always been a lie, hasn’t it?

Oh my god.

And the most outrageous part of all this?

You just can’t call yourself a man anymore. 

“Looking spicy today, baby. I’m burning because of ya.”

—

[gyuspell]

All Mingyu wants is you to bounce on his cock right now, his back pressed against his headboard as your ass grinds back onto his hardened cock. Your back facing Mingyu, back arched and hips rolling so your clothes cunt is rubbing on his bulge…

“Y-yes baby~” he whispers as his large hands grip onto your ass cheeks and guide your hips to move faster. His roommate Wonwoo sleeping peacefully in his bed across the room, facing the wall. Mingyu pulls his boxers down just enough for his large cock to spring free, then he pulled your sleep shorts to the side before he gently ran the tip of his cock through your soaking folds…

“So good for m-me” Mingyu cooes at you as your sweet cunt sucks him back in with every thrust out of you. Soft moans pouring from your lips as Mingyu stretches you out so deliciously. “G-Gyu, you’re so b-big” you manage to say through the mind melting sex. The only thing filling your slutty little brain was Mingyu and his cock, the way he stretched you out so much, molding your cunt to his cock, and his cock only…

Mingyu groaned quietly as his puppy eyes rolled back “hhmm-I’m g-gonna cum” he whined as he thrusted up into you desperately. You nodded and whined softly “m-me too”. He groaned deeply and his eyes rolled back completely as he trembled slightly and came inside of your clenching cunt. Your eyes rolled back, hips and thighs trembling as his cock hit your sweet spot with ease…

The way your cunt fluttered around Mingyu’s cock made sure every last drop of cum was inside of you. He slowly pulled out and watched his cum drip from your ruined cunt “such a pretty little cunt you have…” he said quietly as he slowly ran his thumb over your sensitive bud, your hips jerking against his touch as moans left your lips. “G-Gyu” you whined as he touched your sensitive and dripping cunt…

[ssweetreveries]

Take it | l.jn

🎧 into it . chase atlantic

☆ jeno x reader

⋆ 18+ mdni!

⋆ word count! 1.5k

oneshot, nonidol!jeno, afab!reader, bf!jeno, dom!jeno, sub!reader, unprotected sex, car sex, dirty talk, manhandling, possessiveness, spanking, brief cumplay, teensie bit of degradation, creampie, a bit public (they’re in a parking lot), use of pet names (baby), porn no plot...

synopsis . car sex with jeno. that’s it.

likes, reblogs, comments are appreciated!!

author note: you guys voted jeno so here it is! ;p

i apologize if there is any mistakes, this isn't proof read and english isn't my first language. enjoy!! ><

“W-what if someone sees—?” you squeak out, eyes scanning the parking lot in case of any passerby.

“Fuck worrying about who sees,” your boyfriend says, voice rough as he manhandles you in the backseat.

His knee slots between your legs, one of his hands snaking up your neck—his fingers tangling in your hair to tilt your head back, exposing your throat for him to claim.

Teeth scrape against your pulse point, his other hand sliding up your shirt, calloused fingers digging in the soft flesh of your stomach.

“Gonna ruin you so good,” he rasps out, his mouth pressing wet kisses to your neck, “that you forget how to speak.”

His hips grind down on you just hard enough for you to feel how hard he is, and then his mouth is on yours.

The kiss is all tongue and teeth. It’s heated, it’s rushed, it’s messy. But that’s how it was with Jeno, and you loved every bit of it.

When he pulls back from the kiss for air, you waste no time getting on all fours, sticking your ass out for him eagerly.

Jeno’s breath catches in his throat as you get on your knees for him with shameless eagerness, your ass pressing against the thick outline of his cock—already hardening at the sight of you basically begging for him.

He shakes his head with a low chuckle, weren’t you just freaking out about being in public a few minutes ago?—and here you were, presenting yourself to him like a good little slut.

His hands find your hips, fingers digging into your flesh possessively as he lets out a low groan.

“Fuck—” his hips jerk forward instinctively, the fabric of his jeans straining as you grind back against him. “You’re starving for it, baby, look at you,” he says, amused.

You only offer him a whine in response as you press up against him, teasingly wiggling your ass against his arousal.

One of his hands fist in your hair, yanking your head back to expose your neck once again. His other hand lands a stinging slap across your ass—the sound sharp in the quiet of the car, and you can’t hold back the moan that leaves your mouth at the sting.

“Gonna fuck you stupid,” he growls, teeth scraping your neck briefly before pulling back and flipping your skirt up, fingers hooking into your panties and tearing them down your thighs. “Make your scream my name until you’re too dumb to even think straight.”

He frees his length, cock springing to his abdomen, already leaking with precum.

He teases your slit, guiding the head of his cock up and down your dripping folds, gathering your wetness before he pushes against your entrance—hips snapping to yours with no warning.

You can’t hold back the choked moan that leaves you at his sudden thrust, walls clenching involuntarily, your hands coming to grip the car door for stability.

Jeno’s fingers dig in the soft flesh of your hips as he slams into you with brutal precision—he knows your body like the back of his hand. Each snap of his hips driving his cock deeper, hitting that sweet spot inside of you that makes your vision go blank.

“F-fuck— Jeno!” you whine out. The pretty little moans spilling past your lips just spurring him on.

The car rocks slightly with every punishing thrust, the leather seats creaking under your combined weight as your nails claw at whatever you can reach.

“That’s it—fucking take it,” he snarls, voice thick with lust as his palm comes down sharp on your ass—the slap echoing through the car. You can’t help but clench around him at the tinge of pain mixed with pleasure.

“Keep squeezing me like that—“ he starts, followed by a guttural noise as his hips continue snapping to yours. “Just makes me want to ruin you more—” he grunts.

One of his hands slam against the window, his fingers splaying against the glass as his thighs tremble. His free hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back to attach his lips to your delicate skin, littering your throat in his marks—his teeth sinking down in your sensitive flesh before pressing soft kisses, soothing the mark.

“Gonna cum so deep inside you,” he rasps out, voice hoarse as his hips pick up pace. His thrusts grow erratic, his cock pulsing as your walls flutter around him. “Fill this pretty pussy, gonna— fuck— feel me for days.” He snarls, hips rolling in shallow brutal thrusts, his breathing coming out short and ragged.

And when you sob his name, the sound that leaves his lips is almost feral. His hand leaves the window to grip your hip, fingers digging into you as he drags you back against him—your ass pressing against his body with every thrust.

“J-jeno—! So c-close, m’so close—!” you cry out with a whiny moan.

His thrusts turn punishing, feeling his own orgasm coiling in the pits of his stomach.

Your tight walls clench around his length as your body starts to sputter with your incoming release.

“Jeno—!” you sob, his name spilling your lips like some sort of prayer.

Jeno’s entire body tenses as he feels you clench around him—his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to leave bruises as a guttural groan leaves his lips.

“Fuck—fuck, baby” he rasps, voice wrecked as he watches you starting to fall apart beneath him, your body trembling as you sob his name. His grip on you tightens, pulling you impossibly closer as his hips snap foward, driving himself deeper in your sweet cunt.

“That’s it,” he groans, his breath hot against your ear as his fingers trail up your spine, one hand coming to wrap around your throat from behind—not choking, but applying enough pressure to make your breath hitch. “Take it—take every fucking inch like the good girl you are.”

His other hand slide down to your clit, fingers working in tight, brutal circles as he fucks into you harder, his pace relentless now.

And when you sob again, walls fluttering around his thick length—his hips start to stutter as he chases his own release, his body burning for you.

You come undone with a breathless scream. Your sobs, whimpers, and the lewd sound of your bodies connecting fill the car as Jeno chases his own realease, overstimulating your poor abused cunt.

Jeno’s pace turns sloppy as your cunt clenches around him like a vice, your scream of pleasure sending a shiver straight down his spine. His bruising grip on your hips doesn’t falter, holding you flush against him as he fucks you through your orgasm—each ragged thrusts dragging his cock against your oversensitive walls.

“That’s it—fuck—squeeze me just like that,” he growls, his voice thick with need as his hips continue snapping to yours, his balls slap against your clit with every snap of his hips. His breath comes out in short ragged pants, pressing his head to your shoulder as he chases his release.

Your whimpers only spur him on—his strong grip pulling you back against him as he keeps fucking into you with brutal precision.

The car reeks of sex, the leather seats slick with sweat as your body trembles beneath him, completely wrecked by his touch.

“Fuck, baby— Gonna cum, deep,” he snarls, his thrusts turning erratic, his cock pulsing inside of you as his orgasm rips through him.

Hot, thick ropes of his cum flood your cunt, his hips grinding roughly against your ass as he milks himself dry inside of you.

He collapses over you with a shuddering groan, his lips brushing your shoulder in a possessive kiss, murmuring a soft “mine” before pulling out of you.

When he finally pulls out, his cum drips down your thighs—the evidence of his claim undeniable. Your thighs shake as you’re left empty, body slumping against the seat.

Jeno catches you before you fully collapse, his strong arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you flush against his chest.

His hand grab your jaw, tilting your head so he can press a kiss to your lips before he trails down your neck, pressing open mouth kisses to your skin.

His hands roam your trembling body as he whispers, “Took me so well, didn’t you, baby?”

His fingers trail down your stomach, dipping down your thighs to feel the mess he made—your slick coating his fingers as he groans.

He brings his fingers up to your lips, pressing, and you take his fingers in your mouth. His breath hitches as your tongue swirls around his fingers, licking them clean like the good little slut he knows you are.

He presses a lingering kiss to your cheek before dragging his wet fingers down your chin, smearing your own slick across your lips and down your jaw.

“Fuck,” he groans, “So perfect, all mine.”

© ssweetreveries follow for more!

[emisluvr]

‎ 𝗦𝗡𝗘𝗔𝗞 ✦ 𝗣.𝗦𝗛

‎‎  𝓵𝖺 𝗏𝗂𝖾.  𝓐.   𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋'𝗌 𝖻𝗌𝖿 !

박성훈  / 𝒇.𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋  ୨ৎ  791.  ───  𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍 , 𝗎𝗇𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝗑 , 𝖽𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗒 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄, 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 , 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖽 !

‎ ꒰◞˕◟꒱ REBLOG FOR CUDDLES !

you and sunghoon both knew it was wrong. you and your brother’s best friend, a year older than you, sneaking off everytime your brother wasn’t around just to fuck.. all without him knowing a thing. it was a secret, one that you both hoped he’d never find out.

the sky is getting darker by the second, and your brother invited sunghoon over to play video games. he decided to go out to buy some snacks for the both of them, seeing that your pantry didn’t have much.

your brother offered sunghoon the option to tag along, but naturally, he refused―insisting that he’d stay home to make sure his little sister wasn’t doing anything stupid.

you both knew that wasn’t the case, at all. your brother didn’t question it, instead thanking his best friend for looking over his little sister.

"did he leave yet?" you text sunghoon, keeping the message app open, desperately waiting for him to text back. "yeah, he left just now" he texts back almost immediately. you hear someone walking into your room, to no surprise, it’s sunghoon.

"missed me already, hm?" he says, walking inside your room, closing the door behind him with a smug smirk on his face. "shut up." you huff, staring up at him from your bed.

he lays you back on your bed, leaning down to connect both of your lips in a wet and long-awaited kiss. he discards his phone on your bed, the screen facing up as he tugs on your crop top and shorts, silently telling you to take them off as your lips detach.

he takes off his shirt, exposing his perfectly-sculpted abs as you messily throw your crop top over your head and slip your shorts off, pooling on your floor.

he pulls his sweatpants down just enough so that his cock springs free, leaking, flushed, and eager to be inside you already. you flip over, back arching for him as his tip teasingly collects your wetness before sliding inside your pussy.

you softly moan, still never getting used to the stretch and size of his cock. "fuck, missed this pussy so much.." he breathes out, throwing his head back while his palms guide your hips back and fourth on his cock.

the soft moans continue to slip from your lips, the feeling of his length stretching your slick walls and brushing over your sweet spot making it near impossible to stay quiet.

"bet your brother would lose his shit if he found out i was fucking you like this every time," he grunts, lightly slapping your ass as whimpers uncontrollably spew from your mouth. "m-mm, sunghoon.. fuck," you gasp, the need to cum eagerly growing.

"say who this pussy belongs to, baby," he rasps, his tone firm but desperate as his hands let go of your hips, forcing you to fuck yourself on him. "y-you.." you let out in a broken moan, backing your ass up on his hips, letting his cock drag inside your core.

suddenly, his phone lights up in the dim room, it’s a text from your brother. "almost home" the text reads. sunghoon lets out a low laugh, biting his lower lip as he stares down at you, watching you using his cock and whining loudly.

"g-gonna cum, hoon!" you cry out, fingers clutching on to the sheets beneath you. "cum for me, doll. want your brother to see his little sister cumming for his best friend?" he tuts, hands landing back on your hips as he syncs your thrusts with his, tip kissing your cervix as his length drags along your sensitive spot.

you clench around him, cumming with a whimper as your legs twitch and the sound of your moans fill the room. his cock twitches inside you before he pulls out, thick spurts of cum painting the plush of your ass while yours drips down onto your blanket.

he groans, catching his breath as he grabs his shirt and wipes the mess off your skin. you feel his cum dragging slowly across your thighs as he cleans you up, the fabric warm and a little rough, making you shiver beneath him.

he slips his shirt back on and pulls his sweatpants up lazily, glancing at the time. you’re still panting, eyes half-lidded as you flip to your side, body falling flat on your bed.

the front door creaks open, signaling your brother’s return.

sunghoon grabs his phone, leans down, and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. "behave now, baby, yeah?" he whispers, voice still breathy. "fix your hair. you still look like you just got fucked," he adds, smirking to himself.

and with that, he walks out your door like nothing happened, leaving you breathless and aching all over again.

୨ৎ taglist: @murassl, @chuhees, @heebear, @kisuumei, @bangchanwifey, @h0onviv, @kikidoul, @highway-143, @kyanmeai, @nithxhoon, @fdzvie, @hyeinsveil, @curryyed, @heeseungsbm

© emisluvr 2025. all rights reserved.

[jenosbigtoe]

mdni. nsfw 18+

pairing: na jaemin x reader

warnings: cockwarming, making out, unprotected sex, clingy bf jaem

im ovulating rn and i get so horny for jaemin specifically when im ovulating like yall dont get it 😭😭😭😭😭😭

“you know you’re my baby, right?” jaemin is almost suffocating you at this point, laying his beefy body right on top of you while he wraps his arms around your waist and snuggles his face into your neck. his legs are tangled with your own underneath the mess of the sheets. he peppers little kisses on your collarbone while you giggle into his hair. “and i love you forever, my baby.”

your heart flutters at his affection. “yes jaemin, as if that’s not the fourth time you’ve told me already today.”

he picks up his head to give you an exaggerated pout. “okay say you love me then.”

you roll your eyes and press short pecks on his lips. “i- kiss love- kiss you.”

before you can pull away again, he holds your chin to deepen your kiss. you moan when he sucks on your lip, biting it lightly with his teeth. you always love when he does that. he uses his other hand to cup your cheek gently while you loop your arms around his neck to caress his soft brown hair.

the air in the room grows heavy and the tension thickens as he continues to kiss you passionately, like he can never get enough of you. with his legs still intertwined with yours, he starts to lightly rub his crotch against your thigh. you can feel his cock harden beneath his sweats as you roll your hips up to meet his.

he pulls away from your lips with a wet smack, a lustful gaze in his half lidded eyes. “sit on me baby, let me feel you.”

you give him a cheeky grin and lift up at his shirt to expose his toned abdomen. he chases your lips again with a bright smile on his face, kissing them hungrily for more. he lifts you up and places you on his lap with ease, never breaking away from your lips for even a second. his hands explore every inch of your body, groping at every bit of exposed flesh from your thighs to your tits. with your legs wrapped around his waist, you slowly peel every layer of clothing off your body until your bare cunt is rubbing on his hardened cock through his boxers and you leave a wet stain on the material.

he pulls his boxers down and his cock springs out, hot and red and leaking with precum at the tip. when you reach down to stroke his length, you struggle to wrap your hand around it. his cock is fat and veiny, ready to split you open.

he groans at the contact. “fuck, baby, i need you to sit on it. right fucking now. can you do that for me?” he wraps his larger hand around yours to guide your strokes up and down his length, his cock getting impossibly harder with every stroke.

you give him a sly look. “of course, baby. anything for you.”

you sit up to guide his needy cock to your entrance, letting the fat tip tease your hole. your cunt starts to drip on his cock as his cock rests just outside your hole. you pause, wanting to see him get all needy and antsy for more action. he pouts. he was going to let you take control but it seems you just want to keep teasing him.

he suddenly grabs your hips to hold then in place and bucks his hips upwards, sheathing almost half of his length inside your little cunt with a single thrust. you both moan at the feeling of your gummy walls stretching around his thick cock.

“f-fuck,” you hiss, trying to adjust to his size.

you’re still so tight despite being so wet and ready for him. he can’t get enough of the way you feel around him, clenching around his length and dripping on his cock. he leans forward to give you another sweet kiss on the lips. “ready, baby?”

when you nod in affirmation, he guides your hips to slowly sink the rest of his length into your tight cunt. he bottoms out when you can finally rest your hips back onto his. you feel so stuffed, full of his cock as he reaches deep in your cunt and pressed up against your cervix.

“fuck, let’s just stay like this, hm? you just feel so good for me, baby.” he coos into your ear, tickling the shell with his warm breath.

when you whisper a soft yes, he pulls you closer to his chest so he can wrap you into a bear hug. he has to shift his hips so you can rest comfortably on top of him, causing his cock to jerk inside of you as you gasp from the feeling. his tip is kissing your cervix, reaching deep to the entrance of your womb from the sheer length of his cock.

you stay snuggled on his chest, burying your face into his bare chest. he’s so warm and soft, you think to yourself, as his arms hug you close to his body. his hot cock is still nestled deep inside of you as your cunt flutters around his thick length, making you feel so full and content. he presses a sweet kiss to the top of your head. “i love you. you’ll always be my baby forever.”

[crimsonbubble]

Driven To Distraction

cw. nsfw, afab!reader, car sex, aphrodisiac chocolates, creampie, implied overstim, car sex, exhibitionism *not proofread, just pure horny*

[again, the concept pics got to me]

taglist (dm to be tagged); @sidusvenari @sugarnspice630 @ravenempress101 @autieofthevalley @linearities @wisejudgedragonhairdo @madiexuberant @mifuelarts @straytiny127 @yun-fangz @huen1ngk41 @juyeonshour @uniq-tastic @hongjng8 @miyaluvvsyou @everyonewooeverywhere @hongjoongtime117 @oddracha @kingbloopter @jay-0n3s @ane1o2 @jelly1117 @aftertherain-atr @k-zuzulibrary @lxnnrobin @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @lezleegerguson-120 @moonlitarcade @koyagifs

masterlist <3

Maybe eating that stupid chocolate you offered him wasn’t the best idea on his part as the driver. But he couldn’t resist the way you looked at him and held the sweet treat between your teeth for him to take.

You were supposed to be on the way to a nice company dinner, but the chocolate seemed to work faster than he thought. Hongjoong's breathing got shallower as the seconds ticked past, his chest heaving as he tried to ignore the throbbing in his pants. His hands tightened around the steering wheel, trying to focus on the road and not his dick that’s dripping like a leaking faucet.

You don’t seem to be holding on that well either. Leaning over to crank up the air con as you tried to control your breathing. All it took for Hongjoong to pull into a random parking lot was one singular look at you. He could see the sweat beading at your hairline, the glisten against your neck, and the way your chest heaved in your dress.

You let out a confused noise as Hongjoong set the car in park. “Get in the back.” That was all he needed to say for you to kick your shoes off, let your purse fall off your lap and haul your ass to the backseat. Hongjoong wasted no time locking lips with you; his hands worked just as quickly. He tugged you into his lap, his hands grabbing at your ass as you ground your aching cunt against the obvious tent in his pants.

“Unzip it.” You pushed his hands up higher, a quick prompt as he took hold of the zipper of your dress, tugging it down with shaky hands. The back opened, the straps loosening as they fell from your shoulders and the top pooled at your waist. You sat up briefly, letting the dress fall to the floor of the car, leaving you in a matching set that made Hongjoong groan.

His hands were back on your ass, his hips bucking up into yours. His lips were feisty, consuming as he kissed you. Your hands skate down his body, pulling at his belt. You push his waistband down enough to let him spring out, tugging him closer by his shirt and kissing him stupid as you stroke him. He moaned into your lips, nearly coming undone the second you sank down on him. “Oh fuck-” His voice is gruff and thick with lust.

Your pussy is so tight and warm around him, his control is out the window. Your movements start drastically, spearing yourself on his cock as you ride him in the backseat of his car. Hongjoong was barely clinging to life as you rode him, his eyes glazed over as you fucked yourself on him. His hands stayed on your ass, ghosting hands that guided your movements along his body.

Hongjoong’s lips trailed down your neck, nipping at the heated skin as he went. Your neck was littered with shades of red and burgundy, subtle teeth marks as he bit into your skin with impatience. His hips bucked under yours, meeting your bounces halfway. You cling to him like a lifeline, quickening your bounces.

“Shit— You’re so tight ‘round me precious.” Hongjoong’s nails dug into your hips as he tugged you in time with his thrusts. This drives him impossibly deep, hitting spots you’ve never even touched before. He slips a hand between your body, mindlessly rubbing circles into your swollen clit. Your back arches, pushing back against his hips with reckless abandon. With his skilled hands rubbing at your clit and his cock hitting places you didn;t know existed within you, your demise was upon you.

You trembled in his hold, squirming against him as he rode out your orgasm. His hand left your clit, returning to your hips to leverage his thrusts as he chased his own release. His moans came out breathy as he used your body. You whined in sensitivity, your pussy clenching around his throbbing cock. Hongjoong came with a lewd grunt, shakily riding it out with your spasming cunt.

You fell into him as he slumped into the seat, breathing laboured as you basked in your orgasmic bliss. You peered out the windows of the car, laughing softly as the windows had since fogged up from your activities. You reached a hand out to draw a heart on the window, writing both of your initials inside it.

Hongjoong’s cock twitched inside you, making you look at him. He was looking at the fogged-up window before his eyes found yours. He held up another small chocolate between his teeth, just like you had before the drive. “Round 2?”

You rolled your eyes as you bit into the chocolate, letting the treat melt in your mouth before sharing it with him. Your buzzing phones lay forgotten in the front seat as your lips find each other again, revelling in the warmth you bring to one another.

[evie-sturns]

wrong video - Matt Sturniolo

-----------------------------------------------------------

summary: where your best friend matt accidentally sends you a video of him jerking off instead of the pictures you two took together earlier, you can't help but want him.

contains: smut, switch!matt, fluff.

------------------------..••°°°°••..-----------------------

matt's been my friend for years now, we've hung out the whole day today and took instagram pictures together, now we are laying on the couch together watching some random rom-com.

"matt?" i ask chirpily, looking up from my phone over at matt. his eyes gaze over to me,

"yeah?" matt mumbles, looking at my eyes.

"can you send me the pictures we took earlier, i think i should post some of then." i say, fidgeting with my fingers as i scroll aimlessly through my phone.

"oh yeah of course." matt nods, he picks up his phone again as '10 things i hate about you' blasts through the living room.

i get the notification from matt, i instantly tap on it which takes me to messages.

theres the 4 pictures we took today plus another video..?

i swipe through the pictures then make it to the video.

i press play and my eyes instantly widen.

the video starts off with the camera pointed at the blank celing, then matts hand reaches out and adjusts the camera, the camera points to just his length.

he's running his hand which is covered in rings, repeatedly up and down his dick, his tip is flushed pink and dripping precum down the long vein that travels up the side of his cock. small whimpers and curses fall from his lips before he releases.

i pause the video instantly and look over at matt whos tapping at his screen with his eyes almost bulging out of his head.

"oh fuck- shit no i didn't mean to send that!" matt panics frantically, unsending the message.

"what just happened." i breathe out with a small embarrassed laugh,

"i am so.. sorry." matt whispers, his cheeks a deep red.

i just witnessed my best friend jerking off through a video.

matt stands up and runs a hand through his hair, "i-i'm gonna go to bed." he stammers before walking out of the living room.

i dont even notice but i've been squeezing my thighs together ever since i first looked at the video, it was hot.

i pick up my phone to look at the video again, but its deleted.

the video plays through my mind over and over, i feel weird, why am i thinking about my best friend like that?

i jump up off the couch, letting the blanket fall to the floor.

i almost run down the corridor towards matt's room, i knock twice on the white wood of the door.

"mm?" matt hums shyly from inside, i creak open the door and i'm met with him laying on the bed, wearing just sweatpants and a loose chain.

"matt. i want you to fuck me." i state blankly, i dont even process what i'm saying before it spurts out my mouth.

"what?"

"sorry." i mutter,

"if you want me to fuck you i will." matt says while standing up off the bed and walking over to me.

i turn around to look at him, hes looking down at me with his eyebrows slightly raised.

i grab his chin and pull him into a passionate kiss, matt kisses me back, his tongue quickly slipping into my mouth.

he lets out a small groan against my lips, letting his submissive side slip and thats enough for me to take control.

i guide him back towards the bed, pushing him down lightly onto the mattress.

i straddle him quickly, matt looks up at me with his bright blue doe eyes.

"fuck- i need you." matt whispers as i grind myself against the bulge in his sweatpants

"do you?" i tease into his ear.

"please.." matt whines, throwing his head back as i feel him grow fully hard under me.

i shimmy my sweatpants down my legs, revealing my white lacy panties.

i tear my shirt off of my head, revealing my bare chest right infront of matt's eyes.

"you're so pretty.." he mumbles

i pull down his sweatpants, his large length springing out, the same one that i saw over text 10 minutes ago. "you ready?" he ask, tearing open a condom and rolling it on him.

"i really like you.." i whisper, hovering above his raw tip, "i like you too sweetheart." .

"you need help?" matt speaks, holding my ass and pulling my panties to the the side.

i didn't, i just wanted to feel his hands on me.

"yes,- yeah please.."

he lowers me down onto him, halfway down. suddenly he drops me, my ass colliding with his thighs, i let out a gasp as he smiles, he lifts me back up to his tip, before loweiring me again.

i press two of my manicured hands on his bare chest and push his back down onto the mattress as i start to bounce on my own,

i trace mindless shapes on his skin, "oh fuck- fuck you're so tight" he whimpers.

"im not going to last long- im sorry" matt warns, gripping my waist as i sit fully down on his dick, i rub my clit against his pelvis as i rock back and forth.

suddenly matt flips us over, my back hitting the mattress.

he groans as he slides all the way out to his tip, then pushes all the way inside me again. "fuck.."

he whimpers as he starts to thrust in and out faster "matt oh my god." i moan as he presses on my lower stomach with his free hand, so he can feel how deep he is inside of me.

i clench around his length, feeling all pleasure coarse through my body at once.

i release all over matt's dick, he finishes into his condom then pulls out of me slowly, being careful not to overstimulate me.

matt pulls off his condom and chucks it into the bin on the other side of the room,

he throws his arms up lazily, "trick shot!" he laughs

matt collapses down next to me, "you okay gorgeous?" matt says, pulling me close to him.

"i needed that" i giggle, matt scoffs lightly before picking me up.

he carrys me over to his desk and sets me down on the chair before sorting through his various clothes.

he brings me over some of his sweatpants and an old shirt, "and... arms up!" matt says, pulling the shirt onto me.

he leans over and tugs the sweatpants up my legs.

matt pulls on his pants from earlier and picks me up again, throwing me on the bed.

he flops down beside me and tugs up the covers with a small exhale.

"that was the last thing i expected from tonight." matt says, closing his eyes.

"me too honestly, not mad about it though!" i clarify with a grin.

i pick up my phone from next to me and open up matt and i's messages,

i scroll through my photos, then pick out a specific picture before sending it to matt.

matt picks up his phone, "why'd you send me something i'm right her-" matt starts but cuts himself off.

"shit.." he laughs nervously,

matt opens the picture of me naked in front of my mirror, a small gasp escaping his lips.

he tugs the covers up over his lap as i see his cheeks flush.

"please- don't delete that." he whispers.

"matt.. are you hard again?" i laugh, tugging down the covers.

matt grabs my wrists and pins them above my head.

"how could i not be when you just sent me a picture like- like that!" he protests

"it's okay" i laugh,

matt presses a kiss to my lips, "go to sleep."

-------------------------------------

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