#Premature Ejaculation Grade

[sttoru]

‘you finally got the results to your recent exams back — all which were passing grades. when breaking the happy news to your boyfriend, he comes up with a way to reward you for your hard work.’

☀︎｜tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. age gap (reader early 20’s, satoru early 30’s). fluff & smut. kinda porn with plot, kinda not. soft dom satoru; vanilla, praise, dirty talk, cunnilingus, p in v -> unprotected, body worship kinda, spooning position, little bit of breast play, mention of premature ejaculation kinda, creampie, size difference, reader gets called ‘princess, baby, pretty, adorable’. reader wears a short skirt. not beta read because i’m tired.

“oh my god!” you almost drop your phone from the pure shock you just experienced. your hands shake as you look at the unexpected results reflected on the small screen.

satoru, who was minding his business in the kitchen, hurries into the bedroom the moment he hears your shriek. he was prepared to help you out with whatever had caused you to yell so loudly, though was surprisingly met with your beaming smile;

“oh, what got my princess so happy?” he asks with a grin of his own, stepping into the room. his gaze darts from the phone in your hand to your face and back again. satoru chuckles as you suddenly run up to hug him. he joyfully reincorporates the embrace; your happy mood being contagious.

you giggle and babble on about how you passed your two exams and how you ‘didn’t think you’d be able to attain such high grades’. your boyfriend hums and strokes your hair whilst you ramble, kissing the top of your head with a proud expression, “as expected of my smart little girl. i’m super proud of you.”

there goes the praise again — making your heart flutter in ways that no one else had done before. you sigh in content and bury your face into his chest. satoru pulls back after a moment, tenderly cupping your face so he could look into those pretty eyes of yours.

you’re his weakness. he knows you are — he’s always known you are, yet that adorable look on your face whenever you gaze up at him through your eyelashes never gets old.

that same look also makes him want to do unspeakable things to you; things that would have you crying from pure pleasure. you deserve to be shown what a true man would do for you out of love — what a true man like your lover would do to you for your own satisfaction and pleasure.

“i think my pretty girl deserves a reward for doing so well on her exams,” satoru whispers, slender fingers trailing from your jaw to your neck, brushing over your collar bone, “would you like that? a reward just f’you.”

you weren’t born yesterday. you knew exactly what he was indicating. you could tell by his loving yet lustful gaze, his fingers that sensually dragged along your skin and his tongue that darted out to subtly lick his lips. as if he was preparing to devour a five star meal.

which he was.

“f—ngh, satoru!”your legs were wrapped around his head, his mouth and tongue working their magic on your sopping cunt whilst his hands were holding you down by your hips. satoru hadn't wasted a single second after you agreed to his proposal. he instantly lifted your skirt up, pulled your panties down to your ankles and dived right between your legs.

your thighs were clamping down on his head—almost forcing him to continue pleasuring you. not that your lover minded; he'd gladly do this again and again if he could. satoru leaves sloppy kisses all over your pussy, drenching it in not only your own bodily fluids, but his own saliva as well.

“mm, a little needy, aren't ya?” he mutters whilst softly kissing up and down your slit. he was admiring both the sight and the noises — your back arching, hips stuttering and voice shaking with need. the older man certainly did enjoy the view of your cute little face contorting with pleasure each time the top of his tongue teased your clit, “yeah, c'mon - let me see your face while i eat you out.”

you hesitated, however eventually removed your hands that tried (and failed) to hide your flustered expression. satoru lets out an almost inaudible whine at the revelation; his cock begging to be freed from its confines. he wanted to fuck you into oblivion, but today was your day. he longed to satisfy your own desires first.

satoru was nasty with it too. the unmistakeable, erotic and wet noises of him slurping up your juices mingle with your moans and whines. the white locks of his hair brush against the insides of your thighs and right above your clit—tickling you in all the right ways and adding to the pleasure you were receiving.

“fuck,” the older man curses under his breath and the warmth against your pussy makes your lower body twitch. his big hands squeeze around your hips, silently warning you to stay still so he could properly enjoy you, “you're gonna make me cum before i can make you finish.”

his words were true. satoru could get off from simply watching and hearing his girl enjoy herself. he has no shame in admitting that fact; he can't help it when you’re this incredibly gorgeous. he grinds his crotch against the soft mattress whilst his mouth continues to eat you out in a painfully slow yet tender manner.

“t-toru, g'nna cum.” you whimper and try to grind your cunt against his tongue in search for that last push that would send you over the edge. your high-pitched voice sounding so extremely whiny sealed the deal for your boyfriend. he pulls his head away from your tingling cunt - which is a second away from reaching its orgasm - and sits up on his knees.

satoru smirks once he hears your mumbled complaints. one large hand settles on top of your head and gives your scalp a few relaxing rubs whilst the other hastily undoes the zipper of his pants. he tilts his head to the right, glancing down at your squirming form with a lopsided grin, “d’ya want another treat, princess?”

of course, you nod. you were aching for that release that'd been building up in your lower stomach— needing to reach that long awaited climax. your eyes follow satoru's movements as he pulls his pants down. again, as painfully slow as possible.

“just a nod? tha’s all i get?” your partner pouts, nonchalantly revealing his lengthy cock for you to feast your eyes upon. he sighs dramatically before trailing two slender fingers down to your cunt, gathering your slick and using it to coat his tip. the pre-cum mixes with your own fluids and the erotic sight makes your mouth water, “i know for sure that my smart little girl can use her big words to get what she wants — let me hear ‘em.”

whilst you gather your thoughts and words, satoru lays down behind you, helping your body onto its right side. you’re facing the wall and thus couldn’t see that cocky expression he had on. his arms pull your back flush against his chest, positioning your hips the right way and lifting one of your legs up properly.

“p-please, i need to have you inside me. can’t wait any longer, ‘toru.” you manage to beg in the end. the warmth radiating from your lover’s body from behind you only increases your sinful craving. he teases you by kissing your nape whilst his hands get rid of your top—fingers then immediately fondling your tits.

his husky voice whispers a 'good girl' in your ear and that’s all you got as an answer before you felt his cockhead prod at your entrance. satoru hisses at just the slightest of contact—not sure if he could last long this time. he feels like he will explode the moment his tip glides inside your gaping hole.

“so beautiful, can’t believe how lucky i got.” the white-haired man grunts as his lips refuse to leave your skin. from your neck to your shoulders and upper arms — he didn't leave a single inch uncovered. it was almost tortureous: the way he grinded his tip against your pussy as he touches the rest of your body with his hands and mouth.

you whine and rub your hips back in the same rhythm. you were indirectly begging him to put it in already and satoru took notice of it. since you had begged once before, he won't coax you into doing it again.

with a light moan, he slides his throbbing cock all the way up the tight space. the squeal you let out at the sensation of being stretched out to your maximum capacity, made satoru murmur a few more words of praise in your ear.

“you're doing so good - taking me so well,” his voice was smooth like honey, the same goes for his soft thrusts. the way your pussy grips onto his cock makes him see stars. your boyfriend never gets tired of making love to you because the hypnotising feeling of being inside you doesn't ever get old. it feels like the first time he had stuffed you full of his cock over and over again.

you were feeling light-headed by now; your eyes rolling back as your mouth formed an 'o'-shape—the cockdrunk look satoru loves to see on you. the squelshy 'flop flop flop' noises echo throughout the entire room with every deep thrust of his hips against the plump flesh of your ass.

satoru's long fingers go from playing with your nipples to groping your hips and ass. his eyes gaze downwards, watching as the fat of your bottom ripples after his pace quickens. you were trying your best to keep up, but the overstimulation of all your senses made it hard to match your movements to his.

“aht aht. you've worked hard enough on your exams already, princess. just lay back and allow me to do everything.” satoru (jokingly) scolds you. this was your reward and he didn't want you putting in any effort if your body couldn’t handle it. he wants you to relax like you deserve after a stressful period of exams and assignments. he’ll happily do all the work instead.

“oh, mmh! too good — fuck!” you mewl. your fingers curl around the bedsheets that moved back and forth with your bodies. a bigger hand settles on top of yours — intertwining your fingers and holding onto them tightly. you could feel satoru smiling against the skin of your shoulder as he kisses it, absolutely enjoying your little reactions to his thrusts.

“yeah? am i doing well?” he asks in a teasing tone. he didn’t have to ask that question; he knows he’s doing well judging purely by your bodily reactions. your back arches and your limbs shake uncontrollably, “am i pleasing my baby well enough?”

you can only moan out a couple ‘yes’’s, but that is enough of a confirmation. the older man is on cloud nine as he drags his thick cock in and out of your desperate cunt. every time he pulls out he can feel your pussy try to swallow him back in — it drove him nuts.

“i love how you look whilst i stuff you full of my cock. so innocent, yet so.. lewd at the same time.” satoru comments through another groan, the hand on your hip holding your body still so he could fuck his dick deeper into you. the tip of his cock nearly reaches your cervix due to the angles he uses to move inside you.

your long-awaited and much deserved orgasm was right around the corner. your moans increase in frequency and volume which was enough of a sign for satoru to increase the pleasure. his fingers trail down your hips and to the center between your open legs—thumb putting pressure on your clit.

the extra stimulation has got you biting into the pillow beneath your head, your lower body writhing around as your lover rubs the small bundle of nerves in circles and from side to side. his hand moves fast—its mission being to help you reach that intense orgasm you were chasing after.

satoru is feeling it himself as well. his cock aches and twitches as it gets ready to drain its balls inside your pussy, “cum with me baby—fuck—cum on my cock whilst i dump my load all the way into your tight little cunt.”

that was all the encouragement you needed. your eyes roll back and your body convulses as the waves of pleasure come crashing down all at once. you could feel satoru’s hips desperately push against your ass, filling you completely with both his dick and hot spurts of cum. you could feel the warm essence leavings its evidence in your womb.

the bedsheets underneath your two bodies was drenched in your slick after you calmed down a bit. your boyfriend continues to place comforting kisses all over your naked body, trying to show his appreciation for you in all the ways he could.

“you did so well. you deserved this, princess.” satoru utters softly, the hair clinging onto his forehead. he gently pulls his soft cock out after a minute of making sure that every drop of his cum stayed inside of your cunt. he loves the feeling of fulfilment that it gives him — loves the fact that he filled his girl to the brim.

you smile weakly. you were fucked out: completely and utterly. it felt good and you were satisfied with your reward. it even gave you enough motivation to do well on future exams, “thanks, ‘toru. ‘m feeling sleepy though.”

satoru snickers. you were always so adorable and vulnerable around him after the two of you partake in such activities. he loves it and it makes him want to take care of you.

“you deserve plenty of rest, so go ahead.” your lover smiles gently, kissing the top of your head after you close your eyes. one of his hands hold yours whilst the other rubs your side soothingly, “i won't leave. i'll stay right here with you whilst you sleep. i promise."

satoru knew you needed to hear those words in your vulnerable state. and surely enough, you smile once more and nod. your body falls asleep the moment his strong arms pull you into a loving hug.

his lips attach to your ear in the form a chaste peck. his smooth voice was the last thing you heard as you faded into an unconscious state;

“i love you so much.”

🏷️: @marimogf @osaemu @screampied @sukuette @sachiyoh @giannitaa @morinuu

[covenofagatha]

Four times Agatha fails at cockwarming (and one time she doesn't)

The second attempt

Part two of this ask

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: g!p Agatha, premature ejaculation, teasing, mommy kink, bratty reader, desperate!Agatha, fingering, underwear as a gag, cum-eating (kind of)

When you wake up the next day, you can already feel the dull ache of arousal in your cunt. You’re still remembering the way Agatha looked yesterday, the way she sounded, when she came before she could even get her cock inside you, and it turns you on way more than it should. 

Why is there something so hot about your wife prematurely ejaculating? You’re not exactly sure, but having the power over her to make her fall apart so fucking easily and so fucking quickly really does something to you. 

Agatha is still sleeping next to you, on her side facing you, and you smirk. The two of you have plans today — seeing a movie and then mini-golfing. It’s a nice way to stay connected and spend time together with how busy you both have been. But you still have a little bit before you have to leave for the movie, more than enough time to get her cock inside you.

She stirs when you start to pepper kisses along her cheek and then down her neck and she turns onto her back, eyes fluttering open to look at you. “Morning, honey,” she says groggily. 

“Hi,” you whisper shyly, propping yourself up on an elbow to admire her. “How’d you sleep?” 

Your wife thinks for a moment. “Pretty good. I was dreaming about you.” The heat in her eyes tells you that it was a hot dream and you take the initiative to sit up and slide on top to straddle her. You’re wearing her purple flannel and simple gray cotton panties, Agatha in an oversized T-shirt and boxers, and your cunt can still feel the heat radiating off her already semi-erect cock through the two layers of fabric. Her hands rest on your waist and she looks up at you adoringly. 

“What was it about?” you ask, slowly rolling your hips over her length. She is always so pliable in the mornings and you feel her cock harden even more. 

Her hands squeeze you. “You were under my desk, sucking me off while I graded papers. And then I laid you on top of my desk so I could eat you and made you drip all over those papers, and when I passed them back to my students, they still smelled like you and I had to make up an excuse as to what it was.” 

The thought makes you throb and she’s almost to a full erection beneath you. “What did you say it was?” 

There’s a teasing glint in her eyes. “You woke me up right before I could come up with one.” 

You chuckle and grind down on her, both of you letting out a breathless moan. “Honey, we have to go soon,” she reminds you and you roll your eyes before reaching down between your bodies to spread your pussy lips open through your underwear so you can better drag your clit along her length. You whimper at how good it feels. 

“We still have some time,” you say persuasively but she pats your hips with pursed lips and you know you’re not winning this battle. You flop off of her back onto your side of the bed with a groan. “You know, you only make it harder on yourself when you deny me like that.” She snorts at the innuendo and gets out of bed. 

“Yeah, well, I’ll try to survive,” she retorts and grabs a change of clothes from her nightstand before going into the bathroom to get ready. 

It’s tempting to slide your hand into your underwear and relieve yourself, but she would be absolutely furious and probably not touch you for at least a week, so you grumble and get out of bed. You put on a skirt, fully intending to tease Agatha even more today, and a long-sleeve blouse. Agatha steps out of the bathroom, wearing suit pants and a blue sweater, and pats your ass on the way out of the room. 

She’s already making eggs when you come downstairs and breakfast is comfortably quiet before it’s time to go to the theater. 

If she notices that you’re being on your best behavior, she doesn’t say anything, and it makes you desperately want to be a brat instead. At least that gets you some attention. 

So when you get to the concession stand and you get a drink, you make eye contact with her as you deep-throat the straw before hollowing out your cheeks and sucking. 

Agatha chokes on a piece of popcorn and you smirk before walking past her to the room for your movie, taking extra care to brush your wrist against her cock. 

She settles into the chair next to you and you look around to make sure no one is near you before your hand sneaks into her lap and squeezes her cock. She keels and you feel her cock twitch in her pants. You rub your palm over her, stroking her back to full hardness, but then two more people walk into the theater and you go back to being her good girl. 

The movie starts but the only thing you notice is that Agatha is antsy. Her leg is bouncing on the floor fast and her fingers are drumming on the cupholder and it’s distracting. You know she’s a little worked up and you fucking love it — but you want to be able to pay attention to the screen. 

So you lay your hand flat on her thigh over her pants and she freezes. No more bouncing, no more drumming, just a sharp intake of breath. You don’t move your hand and you’re able to enjoy the movie for a few moments before you feel the fabric of her pants becoming tighter. 

Without even having to look down, you know she’s getting harder than she already was and you can’t help but tease — your fingers curl and you drag your nails up and down her thigh ever so slightly, always stopping before they reach the tip of  her cock. You don’t have a rhythm, sometimes pausing low for too long before her body jerks and you remember what you’re doing. 

Agatha slightly slouches further into the seat in an attempt to get your hand to go higher, but you hover your fingers off as a warning, and she shifts back to sitting normally. 

“Honey,” she whispers throatily and you have to bite back a smile. It’s unclear if she wants you to stop or keep going. 

So you slide your hand up so that two fingers are resting against the tip of her cock and she chokes. 

“Stop,” she says urgently, but it’s not an order, it’s a plea. 

You skim your fingertips over her hard cock and feel it pulse under you and she clenches onto both armrests and you can see how white her knuckles are in the light from the movie. 

Is she going to cum right here in the movie theater for you? In her pants like a fucking teenager? You think that might be even hotter than what happened yesterday and you can feel a pool of wetness collecting in your underwear

Agatha’s teeth are gritted so tightly and she presses a fist against her mouth, her hips rising almost indiscernibly. 

Fuck. 

But then her other hand grabs onto your wrist and pulls you off of her cock and you chuckle quietly before leaning over so your hot breath is on her ear. “Thought you were going to cum for me, mommy,” you mock and her cheek twitches before shaking her head, eyes staring bullets at the big screen. 

Your tongue flicks out against her earlobe and then you settle back into your chair and your wife doesn’t move until the movie gets to a sex scene and she lets out a little gasp. You know it’s not from the actors but from thinking of you like that, because that’s exactly what you’re doing. 

After she had cum prematurely yesterday, she had eaten you out until she’d gotten hard again and then lasted even longer than normal while fucking you. You had mentioned that maybe it was a good thing then and that she should cum quickly first every time, and she had growled and spanked you until you apologized for being a brat and then shoving three fingers inside you and making you orgasm again. 

Now it’s your turn to shift in your seat, feeling even more arousal course through your veins. 

Is that what she’s thinking about right now? A glance down at her cock confirms that she’s still just as hard as she was before and you wonder if she would agree to sneaking off for a bathroom quickie. You have no idea what’s happening in the movie, having missed critical exposition while teasing Agatha at the start, and you’d be fine with leaving right now if it meant you could get your wife’s cock in you sooner. 

“Mommy,” you murmur, making your voice sound as desperate as possible, not that you have to try too hard. “Can we—”

She shushes you. “Quiet, honey. Mommy’s trying to watch the movie.” You roll your eyes and are tempted to start teasing her again, but you know that she definitely wouldn’t give in then. 

And she will surely punish you if you do make her cum in her pants in a movie theater. 

So you sit patiently in your chair, barely even squirming, until the movie is over before jumping up the second the lights turn on. Agatha raises an eyebrow at you. 

“You…me…the bathroom?” you suggest and Agatha snorts. Your face falls. 

Your wife stands up more calmly than you did and you dramatically pout. “The putt-putt course is right next to here. You were so excited to play when we planned this, so we’re going to go there and you’re going to behave and maybe when we get home, mommy will give you a reward.” 

You want to make a cheap retort and ask if she thinks she can even make it until home, but you bite it back. No need to give her more reason to get fed up with you. 

“Fine, but you might want to cover up your pants somehow,” you advise, eyes flicking back down to the very evident outline of her erection. And then you can’t resist. “Try not to touch yourself, though. It’ll be a lot harder to hide a cum stain than just your cock.” 

Agatha grumbles something that sounds an awful like you fucking brat under her breath before taking off her blue sweater and tying it around her waist, leaving her in just a black tank top. Your mouth runs dry at the swell of her breasts, her pronounced collarbones, and the slight muscular curvature of her shoulders. She is so hot and your underwear just clings to you even more. 

She’s watching you expectantly, so you swallow hard, refocus, and lead the way outside. Agatha gives you the keys for you to move the car to the parking lot next to the theater while she walks over to buy tickets for mini-golf. 

You meet her by the station to get your equipment and almost laugh at how pained she looks. She’s standing at an awkward angle, like she’s actively trying not to collapse in on herself, and you know without a doubt that she’s still hard. 

After you get your putters and golf balls, you make your way over to the first hole. It’s a straight-forward shot about fifteen yards away and Agatha lets you go first. 

You line the ball up with the hole and get into position with the club, waggling your hips playfully because you can feel her eyes on your ass. You know that if you weren’t in public right now, she’d spank you for it. 

Focusing, you swing the putter and the ball rolls to about a foot away from the hole. 

“Not too bad,” Agatha says and you step out of the way so she can take her turn. When she leans over the club, you can see the tent her cock is making in her pants and it makes you snicker. It’s honestly impressive how little it takes to have her hard as a rock, and even more impressive of how long she can sustain the erection. 

Her ball goes well past the hole and she groans in frustration. 

“Got to get your head in the game, mommy,” you say with a wink, knowing that calling her that will only get her more worked up and her grip tightens on the putter. You’d make a comment about how easy she is, but you know that you don’t really have a leg to stand on with how wet you get just from the sight of her hands.

She gives you a warning look while you simper and lead her closer to the hole. You’re not a very good golfer, you don’t even really try when it comes to mini-golf, but for the sake of being a brat, you put your hands on the top of the putter and slowly and sensually drop to a squat, hands sliding down the shaft of the club.

Agatha exhales so loudly you can hear her and you shoot her a teasing smile before pretending to examine your ball’s position to the hole. “You know it’s my turn, don’t you?” she says. 

You stand up, rolling your body against the club as you do like it’s a stripper pole. It’s taking a lot of effort not to laugh at the exasperated look on your wife’s face, but by the straining in her pants, your exaggerated stunts are still impacting her. “Haven’t you already come first enough recently?” you ask innocently. 

“That doesn’t even make sense in this context,” she protests and you can’t stop from giggling. You make the putt and so does she. 

Moving onto the next hole, you bend at the waist to set your ball down, giving Agatha a clear view of your soaked underwear, and you can hear her sharp intake of breath from where she’s standing behind you. You’re playing a dangerous game and you know it’s only a matter of time before she starts trying to regain the upper hand. 

You get to the fifth hole before it happens. You’ve calmed down on the teasing because the score is so close and you’re determined not to let your wife beat you, and Agatha decides to try to throw you off. 

You’re about to take the putt when all of a sudden, she wraps her arms around you, hands resting on top of yours, as if she’s showing you how to hold the golf club if any passersby happen to see you.

But what she’s really doing is pressing her hard cock against your ass, pushing you forward slightly so your clit brushes against the putter. 

“Mommy can’t wait to fuck you later,” she purrs and your mind goes blank, an indescribable heat growing inside you. It’s the combination of being worked up by her reaction to your teasing, feeling her cock, and the words she’s whispering into your ear that is driving you absolutely crazy and you whine. Her little displays of power are so fucking hot and it only makes you want to struggle for control even more. But Agatha isn’t done yet. “I love the feeling of your warm, wet cunt around me. It’s like you were made for mommy — for mommy’s cock. I love all your pretty sounds, I love the way you look with my cock in your mouth. Fuck, baby, you’re so hot, I need you so bad.” 

Your breath is coming out raggedly and your head is absolutely spinning. You need to get a hold of yourself and you push your ass back into her cock. She hisses and it helps to clear your mind a little. “God, you’re just a pervert, aren’t you?” you taunt and she gasps and bucks forward. A thrill runs through you. “Getting me all worked up while we’re trying to play a nice little game of mini-golf. You just can’t help yourself, can you? You just need me too bad, right, mommy? If only you could get your cock inside me before cumming.”

Maybe it’s a little too far because she growls behind you and grabs you by the arm, pulling you back to the front. 

“Agatha — wait, what —” 

She whirls around and she looks mad. “We are going to go home,” she seethes, “and I’m going to teach you a fucking lesson about watching your tongue.” You can’t help but feel excited, and it only turns you on more when she barks at the employee who is taking too long to focus on you two so you can return your clubs. 

And then she’s peeling out of the parking lot and going ten over the speed limit to get to your house as quickly as possible. You position yourself so that both your feet are up on the seat with a leg resting against the middle console and the other against the door, and you run two fingers up your clothed slit, making a muffled sound. 

Agatha glances over at you, swears, and then quickly looks back to the road, her face heating up. You chuckle and then your head drops back against the seat when you rub at your clit. “What are you doing?” she asks hoarsely. 

“What does it look like, mommy? I’m touching myself,” you state and her lips part with heavy breaths. “I’m so fucking wet for you.” Your panties are actually soaked and they’re no longer acting as a barrier for your cunt so you’re leaking out the sides of the fabric onto your skirt and upper, inner thighs. 

The car accelerates even more and her hand reaches across to grip onto your knee like she just needs to feel your skin. It makes you clench and even more wetness gushes out of you. You don’t even know how you got to be this much of a mess, but your wife just has a way of making you crazy. 

But you’re not the only one who’s going crazy — a quick peek over the console shows that her cock is straining so much against her pants that you think the fabric might be permanently stretched out. Her cheeks are flushed and her arms are so tightly gripped around the steering wheel that the veins running from her hands all the way up to her shoulders are taunt and blue. You want to lean over and trace them with your tongue. 

A stifled moan slips out of your mouth and her fingernails dig into your thigh, leaving little indentations in your skin. “Mommy, fuck,” you say breathlessly, pressing harder on your clit. “I need you.” 

Agatha fucking whimpers and swerves into the driveway, throws the car into park, and gets out of the car with record speed. You follow her into the foyer, expecting for her to head toward the stairs, but you don’t even make it past the kitchen before she spins around and grabs your cheeks to pull you in for a filthy, open-mouthed kiss. Her tongue tangles with yours and your moan is swallowed by her, but she pulls away too quickly after biting down on your bottom lip. 

She shoves you against the island and her hand pushes you down onto it and you hiss at the coldness of the surface before she flips your skirt up over your ass and spanks both your buttcheeks hard. 

You whine and jump, lurching forward and your clit throbs. “Mommy,” you cry and the pressure of her hand on your back is gone. You hear the sound of her unbuckling her belt and unzipping her pants and you prop yourself up by your elbows, arch your back to push your ass up even further, and look over your shoulder to watch. 

Agatha takes out her cock, hard and red and already leaking everywhere, and you bite your lip at the sight of her pants still on and parted around her cock. “Fuck, honey, you’re so fucking wet,” she rasps in awe. “I’m gonna have to clean you up a little so you don’t ruin mommy’s good pants.”

She tugs your underwear over your ass, giving it another spank for good measure, and then slides them down your legs so you can step out of them. Agatha kicks your feet apart and you widen your stance so she can thoroughly wipe your wetness off your inner thighs and your cunt. An unrestrained groan slips through her lips and you watch with bated breath as her other hand firmly clasps the base of her cock in an attempt to stop what happened last time to happen again. 

“Sweetheart, fuck,” she says, holding up your underwear to the light and you gasp. You have completely turned the once-light gray fabric dark and it looks like they were just dunked in a bucket of water. Her hips jerk into her hand involuntarily. 

You’re almost entirely overwhelmed and you can feel how swollen and needy your pussy has become. “It’s not my fault, mommy,” you say pathetically. 

She huffs out a laugh, giving her cock one quick stroke. “Oh, I suppose it’s mine?” she mocks. “Cause I was being a ‘pervert’?”

Humming, you nod in agreement, giving her doe-eyes to show her that you’re nothing more than the innocent victim here and her face contorts with pleasure as she ghosts the tip of her cock over your asscheek, getting your skin sticky with precum. 

And then she raises your underwear to her nose and breathes in the scent of you deeply, and it’s like you’re watching in slow motion. 

Her eyelids fly open in a panic, knowing that she just fucked up, and the hand around her cock tightens involuntarily before she makes a noise somewhere between a grunt and a groan, frustrated and furious all the same.

“Fuck — no, fuck,” she curses and her hips shoot forward as she cums, a spurt erupting and pooling on your ass and lower back. She continues to rut back and forth against your asscrack, more cum being pumped out from her pulsing cock, and you gasp at how it feels on your skin. Agatha’s hands grasp onto your hips while she rides out her orgasm, looking very embarrassed, until she finally slows her movements. 

Her spent cock twitches where it’s resting on your ass, one last strand of cum spitting out from the tip. You are in absolute disbelief that she didn’t even make it inside you again and you can feel how covered you are in her cum. It only makes the ache inside you get worse and you clench around nothing, a

An awkward silence settles over the kitchen before you clear your throat. “Well, you got further than last time,” you point out, not even sure if it’s the truth.

Agatha scoffs. “You need to learn how to shut your mouth.” Her eyes light up with an idea and she takes your sopping wet underwear, still clenched between her hand and your hip, and mops up the puddles of rapidly-cooling cum on your back. Your breathing gets heavier, the air seemingly getting thicker, and you think you know what she’s going to do. 

She yanks you off your elbows by your hair and spins you around before balling up your panties and pressing them against your lips before you open wide and she shoves them into your mouth. “Clean them up for me, pretty girl.”

You let out a muffled moan at the overwhelming taste of your pussy and her cum and your eyes roll back into your head. She watches with rapt attention as you move them around as you suck on the wet fabric before she reaches down and slides three fingers into you. 

The sudden fullness has you scrambling to grab onto the countertop behind you and she curls them up inside you deep and rough. You try to say something, maybe a beg, but it comes out garbled and neither of you understand it. 

She sets a bruising pace and your head falls back. You’re so wet there’s a squelching noise with each thrust and her thumb barely gets any friction as it rubs against your clit. You’re reduced to begging with your eyes and incoherent noises but she gets the idea. 

The taste of the two of you mixed together and her fingers filling you so deliciously is dizzying and pleasure is already heating up in your body. You’re not sure how much more of this you can take but the steel in Agatha’s eyes says that you’re going to take it all. 

It’s like she’s overcompensating as she drives her fingers into your wet cunt over and over and it keeps pushing high-pitched keens out of your mouth. Her thumb presses against your clit and you clench tightly around her and Agatha’s rhythm stutters. 

“You feel so good, baby,” she pants. “You’re so fucking hot, making me cum twice before I even get into you.” Your moans get more frantic, hips now bucking to meet her thrusts and get her deeper inside you. “Such a good slut for mommy.” 

She leans closer to suck on your neck and then trails down to your chest, leaving marks in her wake. 

It’s too much — you become overstimulated far too quickly and with a muffled cry, you cum all over her fingers when she twists them roughly inside you with a rough nip to your clavicle. 

Her three fingers still move slowly in and out of you until you wince and she pulls out, leaving a hollow emptiness in your cunt. She fishes the panties out of your mouth before shoving her wet fingers inside and making you clean those off too. Agatha’s cock twitches and she pulls her fingers out of your mouth, smearing your saliva all over your cheeks.

“Fuck,” you say, very out of breath, and she hums in agreement. “I can’t believe you came from practically nothing again.” 

Agatha’s cheeks redden and she rolls her eyes while trying to seem unbothered. “It’s not my fault I have such a hot slut for a wife.” 

You smirk and kiss her mouth, slipping your tongue past her lips so she can taste the combination of both of you. “Well, you know what they say,” you tell her matter-of-factly. She raises an eyebrow. “Third time’s the charm.” 

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights

[yappingwitch]

Say It Ain't So

pairing - Virgin!James Potter x fem!reader

summary - James busts a fat one. Porn with glimpses of plot. Maybe.

warnings - 18+ mdni, smut, awkwardness, James is a desperate virgin in this one, hence the weezer title, premature ejaculation, handjob (m receiving), one sided enemies to ???, slight m sub/f dom dynamics if you squint, legs

wordcount - 1.6k

disclaimer - english is my second language. Don't hesitate to correct me!

You hated James Potter.

Your dislike well-known among your friends, none of them dared to ever mention him anymore, fearing another long-winded rant from you. Remembering when the lot of you would stay up after curfew, sharing gossip and talking about your crushes. All of them gasped when you casually shared your feelings about the headboy after they spent what felt like hours gushing about him. Proceeding to list of every single thing wrong with the guy, making your friends regret ever bringing him up.

Did he have beautiful curly hair you just wanted to run your fingers through? Brilliant hazel eyes in which mischief was ever-present? Pretty plump lips, his slightly crooked, overly confident smirk always on them? Well, yes, you could admit that much. But as soon as he opened his mouth, you couldn’t care less about how pretty it was. He'd always disrupt the lessons, the golden boy having no filter or capability to raise his hand, always yelling the answers out or talking loudly with his posse during dinner, unable to control his volume and barely having to face any consquences for his obnoxious nature.

So when Slughorn, who aside from his quirky nature, you quite liked, decided to pair you both together for the last project of the year, you were fuming. At least internally. Your prideful nature and pureblood customs instilled in you by your parents forced you to keep a blank face, only briefly smiling at the teacher when he uttered your name after James', swallowing your rage.

Shortly after class ended, as you were packing your things after quickly finishing your notes, you suddenly heard one of the old wooden chairs in front of you creak. Looking up at the noise, you saw a certain Gryffindor already staring back, a stupid smirk on his face like always, the air of confidence around him ever-present.

“So…,” James started absent-mindedly going through your notes, but you quickly interrupted whatever he was about to say.

“I’ll take care of the project by myself. Can’t have you messing up my grades,” you simply stated, ripping your notes from his hands, frowning at the way he had smudged the last of your sentence. Ignoring your frown, he loudly exclaimed, “Hey! My grades are stellar.” He tapped his finger against his chest, where his perfect badge was. “They don’t give them away for nothing, you know?”

“I also don’t like you,” you said after a moment of silence, standing up and slinging your bag over your shoulder, quickly walking out.

But he wouldn't let up, following you all the way to the Great Hall, pestering you until you finally snapped right by the Slytherin table.

“Saturday, library, after lunch. No word from you until then,” you almost yelled, your face twisting in anger. Noticing the other Slytherins' snickers, you quickly composed yourself, swallowing your anger. He, oblivious as always, smiled widely, ignoring your state and simply basking in the glory of having won this little duel of words.

Saturday approached faster than you would’ve liked, dreading the obnoxious boy's presence already. But you approached the surprisingly empty library anyway, not one to go back on your word. You frowned slightly, looking around, realizing even the librarian must have taken the day off. Sighing, you called out to James; he was already there, notes and textbooks scattered about. He quickly jumped up from his chair, beaming like always, until his gaze drifted down, his usual aura of self-assurance dwindling a little.

“What are you wearing?” he asked, mouth hanging slightly agape.

You looked down; you were wearing a simple skirt and long-sleeved top, not too different from what you usually wore in your free time. Confused, you lifted your head again, his gaze quickly following, being previously trained on your bare legs. Realizing he had been caught, a blush appeared on his cheeks as he plopped unceremoniously down, coughing awkwardly and focusing on the books laying before him.

“Weirdo,” you stated, disinterest evident, just wanting this project to be over with. But what you saw once you reached the table he was sitting at piqued your interest suddenly. Looking down, a prominent bulge had formed in the front of his pants, straining against the material. A book was quickly tossed over it, but it was too late.

“You’re such a skeeze. Who gets hard from looking at a girl's legs?” you asked, amused, not really expecting an answer, just continuing to stare him down, enjoying watching the high-and-mighty golden boy begin to tremble under your intense gaze.

“..they are your legs,” he mumbled, blush only deepening as his eyes stayed glued to the table.

This made you laugh out loud, gasping for air.

“Are you a virgin or something? Bloody hell,” you huffed out between laughs, a single tear escaping your eye at the comical twist your day had taken.

James didn't reply, groaning in embarrassment and continuing to hold the book tightly over his lap.

“Cat got your tongue?” you said, still smirking but finally having calmed down. “I didn’t even know you were capable of zipping it.”

This seemed to push him over the edge; he picked up his bag and shoved everything in with lightning speed, until suddenly he froze, hearing your next sentence.

“I can help you out if you want,” you said, a mischievous smile adorning your pretty face, putting his own to shame.

All he got out was a quick “huh,” as you pounced, wordlessly pushing him back down onto the chair. He looked up through his glasses, his eyes wide, the cute blush still evident on his face. Fuck.

“You are so pretty,” you whispered aloud before pressing your mouth against his. Short and sweet. It was almost romantic, the way he gently started to move his mouth and the lovestruck look on his face once you pulled away.

He eagerly leaned forward again, knocking his nose against yours before trying again, this time slower, aiming properly while the book he had previously clenched in his lap dropped to the floor with a thud. He opted to instead take hold of your hips, almost moaning at the feeling of the warmth of your skin touching his, slightly poking out from the bottom of your shirt. You, in turn, moved your hand that gripped the curls at the back of his neck slowly down his chest, delicate fingers grasping at the painful bulge in his pants. This made James quickly pull away, a loud moan leaving his now reddened lips as he grasped your wrist, stopping your movement.

“I-” he gasped out. “I-I’m waiting for the right person.”

He regretted talking the second the words left his mouth, seeing you roll your eyes at him, laughing a little at the bizarre turn of events, moving to remove your hand nonetheless.

He quickly went to grasp at your wrist again, pulling it toward his crotch once more, his body moving on its own.

“You need to make up your mind, pretty boy,” you said softly, looking at him amused.

“You know…,” you started after he continued to be silent, he in turn looked up at you through his lashes, blushing, his glasses a little crooked and a dorky smile on his lips, hearing your voice again. “Maybe I’m not the right person… but… I could be your right hand,” you finished, slightly averting your eyes, cringing at your words.

He didn't notice, though, too lost in need for release; he eagerly nodded his head. You laughed a little, removing his grip on your arm and moving to open the Gryffindor's trousers, just enough for you to pull his now hard member out, precum already coating his tip, while pressing another sweet kiss to his lips. Disconnecting from him once more, you lifted your right hand, holding it up to James' face expectantly.

“Spit,” you commanded, and the boy obliged without a second thought.

One long, loud moan left his mouth as your hand slowly moved against his cock, brushing your thumb over the head, gently mixing the precum with his spit, spreading it all over his length. You moved to press kisses to his bobbing throat, his head thrown back in pleasure, as you started to move your hand up and down in a steady rhythm, sucking a small purple spot onto his neck, his gasps and groans only getting louder.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” James repeated over and over like a prayer, lost in pleasure. You lifted your head, stopping your assault on his neck, to look at his scrunched-up face, eyes tightly shut, mouth hanging open. You couldn't help but stare, the glaring noon sun shining in through the stained glass and making his skin almost appear to glow, colors of the rainbow dancing around his face, sweat bullets forming on his forehead like little diamonds. Fuck. He really was—

“Pretty,” you mumbled, pushing James over the edge-a string of curses leaving him as he came undone over your hand, specks of it staining your skirt all the way to your pretty legs, the reason all of this started in the first place.

He continued to gasp, trying to catch his breath and gasping out apologies for the mess. You silently tugged him back into his pants, amused at the wet spot adorning his own lower half.

You wiped your hand on his pants before zipping him up. Wordlessly, you pressed a kiss to his cheek, swiftly turning around, ready to go take a shower after the ordeal.

“Wait,” you paused in your steps, glancing back at James. “D-do… you… want… to,” he started, before pausing again, finally catching his breath. “Do you want to go to Hogsmeade… with me?”

You glanced ahead, continuing on your path without replying to the desperate boy, only flashing him a quick smirk.

Maybe you didn't hate him after all.

[choerrysjubiles]

Teen Hearts Beating Faster, Faster

pairing: virgin!wonbin x fem!reader

warning: jealous!bin :], jealous!bin confessing his feelings :D, smut, protected sex, premature ejaculation, aftercare, brief mention of food (not sexual)

wc: 3.7k

a/n: love u wonnie also the ryan in the fic is ryan ross hehehe I've been obsessively rewatching live in denver and I gotta write abt my bbygirl

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Wonbin had a decent amount of patience.

He had the patience for when professors scolded him for the work they misgraded. Even after tests were graded wrong, he sat back and waited for them to realize the mistake. Sighing in relief as they changed his grade, knowing he was the correct one.

He had patience for long hours at their dance studio. When choreographers continuously scolded them and yelled even as their bodies grew tired and were close to dropping. When he would force his lips shut as he heard the same droning words being shouted at him and his teammates.

Even among his friends, Wonbin was patient. Waiting for them to cool down, realizing they were both loud and wrong in the argument. Realizing the solution, he let it slide, as they looked at him in remorse. Not wanting to make another show of something, Wonbin let it slide as they continued doing whatever started the argument.

Something he didn't have patience for was that stupid guy, Ryan.

Ryan, some lame guitarist from a band y/n's become obsessed with. It seemed that was all she could talk about. The second he heard that name, Wonbin scowled.

Ryan's playing here, Ryan's sent me some demos, Ryan's sent me tickets to see them here or there. Ryan this, Ryan that.

Wonbin didn't even hate the guy. He was a decent musician; he played guitar well, even better than what Wonbin could play. But something boiled in him when you mentioned his name.

He couldn't even be jealous, Ryan had a girlfriend and he knew you would never do that. You were friends with his girlfriend, knowing each other even before Ryan dated her. But the idea of someone occupying y/n's thoughts more than her own friend, Wonbin, upset him beyond relief.

Was it because he's older? In a band? Was is the sweaty guy pheromones getting to y/n? Was that why she's so obsessed with Ryan?

But Wonbin bit his tongue and stayed quiet. He always did, never wanting to upset you even when you laughed and assured him you had no obsession or feelings or Ryan.

And even now, watching them play their set in some vacant building, Wonbin felt his jealousy grow. The way your eyes lit up when Ryan sang adlibs. The way you clapped and cheered when they finished a song. When you sang along to the same adlibs and backing vocals as Ryan. That especially made him upset.

Wonbin stayed still, armed crosses with a slight frown as he tried to enjoy their concert. Only some time left, then he'll be out of the temple of Ryan.

When their set was done, Wonbin and you walked out. Walking around to see if there was any restaurant or diner to grab something to eat before going home. When you finally made your way to Wonbin's car to drive home, you could sense something was up.

There was tension in the air, something being unsaid but desperately needed to be discussed. His hands gripped the steering wheel tighter, his arms flexed more, his face was unusually tight.

"You seem upset." Your voice was soft, not wanting to upset Wonbin.

"I'm not upset, why would I be upset?" He said, a little too fast to be convincible.

"You've been like this a couple of times. I just, I just wanna know whats going on? If you're okay?"

Your eyes were soft while your brows felt furrowed, something was really bothering him and knowing Wonbin, he'd rather bite his tongue than bring anything up.

Wonbin took a deep breath in, collecting his thoughts. The air was tense, it was hard to breathe, the pressure building every second longer he took to speak.

"I'm jealous of Ryan." It felt like Wonbin's head was gonna implode.

"Of Ryan?" You repeated.

"Yes of Ryan." He says, a little harsher than he wanted. "He's cool, he's all you ever talk about-"

"All I ever talk about? Wonbin, what do you mean?"

He turns slightly, cheeks flushed as he looks at you.

"It's almost like every time we meet up there's something new about Ryan. I know he's your friend but so am I."

You carefully nodded your head.

"I'm just." He sighs, "I feel myself becoming obsessed with you, or something."

Oh?

You sat in silence, mouth agape.

"And always hearing about that Ryan guy just pisses me off. I know he's older and more experience and cooler than me, but-"

"He's not." You laughed.

Wonbin stared at you. His eyes were wide, hair disheveled as he tried calming himself down to listen to you.

"I'm sorry I upset you." You made sure to keep eye contact. "Genuinely. But he's not that cool. He's kind of a dick to his fans, he often isolates himself when he's overwhelmed. He doesn't have a great temper."

"He does?" Wonbin leans a little closer to You, amused smile on his face.

"He's a cool guy to hang around because I like his band and I can get cheap tickets from him. But there's nothing more than that."

You grabbed his hand.

"I'm sorry I put you through hell. I wouldn't have done all that if I'd have known how you felt. I'm sorry."

"Can I kiss you?" He blurts out.

You blinked for a moment, you went lightheaded for a second before leaning in to give Wonbin a chaste peck on his lips. His face flushed even harder than earlier, he was sure you could feel the warmth radiating from him. Detaching from each other, Wonbin let out a whine.

Hearing him, you moved to the side of his face and pressed a kiss the corner of his mouth.

"I've never kissed someone before." He confessed.

"Really?" You asked, your voice was more curious than it could be teasing or taunting.

"Can we kiss more?" His eyes were shiny, scared you'd say no to him.

"Can we go somewhere more comfortable?" You asked.

"Y-yes, of course."

Wonbin turned the car on with fumbling hands, reversing and making their way to your apartment. The drive and walk up was agonizing. Every light turned red, every crosswalk had people walking, even the parking garage at her complex was filled.

Walking and standing in the elevator was torturous. Wonbin kept his hands on you, be it your arm or hand, to ensure this was real and not some dream.

Walking into your home, you latched onto each other. Your hands went straight to his neck, holding his still as your deepened their kiss. His hands nervously held onto your back before dropping to your waist.

You backed him to the couch, dropping down as he carefully hovered over you. His eyes nervously looked around your body.

"Do you wanna touch me?" You asked Wonbin.

"Yes." He barely spoke above a whisper, round eyes staring at you.

"Where?" You pressed.

He looked over you, every spot his eyes landed lasted around a second before he found another spot he wanted to touch.

Grabbing his hand, "I would like it if you touched here."

You guided his hand to your breast. Wonbin's breath hitched as he laid his hand onto you, scooting a hair closer.

"Don't be shy, come here." You egged him on.

He followed orders, moving closer. His hand stayed on your breast as he moved his other hand to your shoulder.

"Can I- uhm."

"You can do whatever, Bin."

He looked at her, seeing the assurance in your eyes, before moving his hands to massage your breasts. Thumbs swiping and moving into the fabrics of your shirt and bra.

"Do you wanna take it off?" You asked. "I know wanna take your shirt off."

"Can I?" He asked.

"Of course."

He grabbed at the bottom hem of his shirt, sliding it off of his body before moving to your shirt. His eyes widened with every inch of skin exposing. You leaned back into the couch as he pulled your shirt off, letting him eye you as you sunk down.

"Do you wanna move this somewhere else? Before we get into more?"

"Can we? I mean, yes. I-I would like that." His nervousness was cute.

You grabbed his hand, leading Wonbin to your bedroom. The lights were dim, your nightstand's lamp lighting the room in soft yellow lighting. Wonbin looked around, shocked at how similar yet different your room looked. Walking him towards your bed, Wonbin moved his hand to your shoulder, thumb playing with your bra strap.

"Can you take it off?" She asked him.

"How?"

"Here." You grabbed his hand.

Moving his hand to wrap around your backside. Holding onto his pointer finger and thumb, you helps him pinch the clasps. Your bra fell down, one strap falling down your shoulder to expose your breast as Wonbin stared down at the newly exposed skin.

You threw your bra to the side as he stared at your breasts. His hands shook as you grabbed them, pulling them upwards to cover your soft, warm skin. He carefully squeezed them, not wanting to hurt you. Thumbs rolling along your nipples, his eyes shot up at you when you let out a low sigh.

"Did that feel good?" He asked, leaning closer to you.

"Very." you closed your eyes.

He continued kneading your breasts, seeing what made you moan and sigh and what led to no reaction. Continuing to roll his thumbs along your nipples, growing the confidence to flick them and drink up the sighs you let out.

"Can we kiss again?" You asked. "You have really soft lips."

"Y-yeah."

He leaned over, lips softly merging before you kissed him again. His hands wrapped around your waist as you kissed, your tongue licking his bottom lip. Opening his mouth, he tasted your tongue as it swiped along his.

Wonbin let out a low moan. The feeling of your skin, your tongue, your lips, it's all so much. He slid his hands down to your ass, feeling himself fall against your bed as you climbed on top of him.

Your core sat right on top of his bulge, hips unintentionally grinding against him as he let out a strained groan.

"I'm sorry." You said, cheeks flushed.

"It's okay."

He breathed, thinking of what to do.

"Can you, mm, teach me something?" He asked shyly.

"What?"

"I wanna eat you out. I've just, never, uhm."

You felt your core grow wetter. His flushed cheeks, eyes looking anywhere but you. You wanted to savor this moment, this vulnerability from him.

"Where do you want me?" You asked, voice full of desire.

"Huh?" He said, unsure of what you mean.

"Should I sit on your face? Or do you want me laying down? Should we, like, 69?"

Wonbin flushed at your words.

"Uhm. Maybe you, uh, laying down."

You nodded, removing your pants before moving to lay down. Your knees were decently far apart, wanting Wonbin to move them to see your panties as he would lean into your pussy.

He looked around nervously, "Can you, you know, tell me how to, um."

"Do you want to lay on the bed or kneel on the floor?"

"Maybe the floor." He dropped onto the floor, settling along the edge.

You scooted to the edge of the bed, knees spread to each side of Wonbin's wide shoulders. His wide, shiny eyes stared at the wet spot on your underwear, his hands resting on your knees.

You leaned back, hands grabbing his leading them to your waistband. He caught on to pull them down, dragging them off down your legs before tossing them to the side. He leaned in to your pussy, seeing how wet it was.

He gently brought his hand to your core, cupping your vulva and feeling how much slick was dripping out of you. Gasping, you felt how warm his hand was against you.

"I thought you were eating me out." You whined.

Wonbin chuckled before leaning in, stretching your thighs to allow his head in. He let your thighs rest on his shoulders, something he's sure he's seen in a porno or two.

He gave a small lick, hearing your breathing hitch. His tongue was sharp and pointed, like he catching as much of your precum as he could gather. Taking another lick, he tasted the depth of your cum. The slight saltiness and overwhelming sweet taste.

He couldn't quite tell what you tasted like, having nothing similar to your cum, ever. His cum was far saltier, musky, even. But this was different. Were all girls like this or just you?

You were enjoying this feeling, his hot tongue licking at every inch of your pussy as you laid there panting. You felt your hand inch towards him, grabbing onto his head to steady yourself.

He continued licking at you, getting drunk on the taste of your honey. Flattening his tongue as he lapped at you, unknowingly teasing your clit with a lack of stimulation.

"Binnie, please." You whined.

He lifted his head, slick dripping down his mouth, "What's wrong?"

"Lick my clit more. I'm going insane, Bin." Your head popped up to look at him.

You felt a wave of slick pour out of you when you looked down at him. Eyes blown out, mouth glistening with your cum, his hot breaths teasing your pussy.

"Up here?" A string of your arousal clung to his lips as his eyes shot to your clit before bringing his hand up to flick at it.

"Yes!" You gasped, thighs clenching together as you fell back onto the mattress.

Wonbin smiled as he went back in to eat you. Tongue stiffening to prod at your clit before slurping up the wetness dripping out of you. Every move he did he saw you twitch and squirm.

"Wait, fuck, yes! Right there, right there."

His confidence kept growing seeing you fall apart from him. Your back continuing to arch off of the bed, Wonbin continued licking at you, nose bumping into your clit as he felt you stiffen. A long drawn out moan escaping your lips as your pussy dripped your cum onto his tongue.

Pulling away, Wonbin looks up at you. Ragged breaths as you're still gripping the bedsheets. Your legs, still folded, are shaking as he rubs your thighs in an attempt to comfort and relax you.

"I thought you said you were a virgin."

"I am." He says shyly.

"You're either a liar or are too good at following directions." You laughed.

You laid there until your breath steadied. Wonbin crawled up the bed, sitting beside you. You were overwhelmed with how hard that orgasm felt, no man's been that good at eating pussy. Wonbin watched your breathing, how much air was sucked into your ribcage, the sheen of sweat along your breasts, how hard your nipples became as the air cooled.

Leaning up on your elbow, "Do you want me to help you with that?"

Y/n stared at his tight bulge.

"Can we have sex?" His eyes were wide, scared you'd say no.

"Yeah, of course we can."

His shoulders relaxed. Taking his pants and boxers off, Wonbin felt a little exposed. He's never been naked in front of anyone, looking over you're not even paying attention to his body. You're looking at his face, his cheeks? Somewhere, studying his reactions, maybe.

You lean over to your nightstand, opening the drawer to take out a loose condom, tossing it to Wonbin you ask if he knows how to put one on.

"No."

"Come here." You wave his over.

Wonbin crawls towards you, his hard dick standing tall as you begin to unwrap the foil.

"This might feel a little weird." You warn.

You roll the condom down his length, the cold lube made Wonbin hiss. Fully covered, you grab onto the tip and pull it upwards, suctioning it onto him.

"What position would you like?"

"Can you ride me?"

You blinked, surprised at his request.

"Sure, get comfortable." You motion to your bed.

"I'm sorry, I should be-"

"No way, this is your first time, I gotta treat my baby right."

Wonbin felt his heart skip when you called him her baby. He moved to lay down, you pushed some pillows together to give him better cushioning as well as a better new.

You straddled his lap before teasing his tip along your folds, Wonbin's hands grabbed at your hips, rubbing and squeezing the flesh as you got into position.

Slowly dropping down onto him, Wonbin began squeezing you, a soft moan escaping him as his eyes were glued to your pussy. He was amazed at how you felt: soft, tight walls clinging around him as you sank lower and lower. He didn't know how deep your womb could get but he was an almost perfect fit.

Your walls clung around him as you sunk lower. Dropping into his lap, you saw Wonbin wide-eyed and panting.

"Are you okay?" You leaned in, worried about him.

"You're so fucking tight."

You smiled, leaning in to kiss his forehead. He craned his head to kiss your lips, sitting up more to continue kissing you.

"Can I move?" You asked, mouth moving to his cheek and jawbone.

"Yeah." He was breathless.

You left a wet kiss onto his jugular as you lifted yourself and pushed back down.

"Shit." He moaned, grabbing your hair to kiss you. His wet tongue began licking the inside of your mouth.

Bouncing more, his grip tightened as he let out a slew of moans. You felt different, there was something insatiable about being on top of Wonbin. Not just that you two were friends, but he was falling apart so soon.

"Wait, fuck, slow down." He begged.

As you were going to plant yourself down, Wonbin's face tightened. He let out a strangled moan, teeth biting his lip to stop himself. Looking at your face, his eyes became teary as his breathing became ragged.

"Fuck."

"I'm so sorry." You said.

"You're," He breathed, "you're fine, it's me who-"

You pulled off of him, gaining a strained groan from Wonbin.

He looked over to this side, "This is embarrassing."

"It happens to everyone."

"Everyone?"

"Mostly guys, but you can't help that."

Wonbin took the condom off, tying it and tossing it in your trash bin.

"Can i still make you cum?" He looked at you shyly.

"Do you wanna?"

"Yeah."

"Sure, you can finger me. How do you want me?"

Wonbin sat up on his knees, wondering where they could move.

"Can I finger you, like, doggy style?" He asked shyly.

Oh?

"Yeah." Your cheeks felt warm hearing such a lewd answer.

You tucked some pillows under you as you bent onto them, ass on display for Wonbin. You felt a shiver run down your body as his hands rubbed your hip, something exciting about not knowing his next move. His hand swiped down to your ass.

He was fascinated with your body, seeing what parts were plump and fleshy and which ones weren't. His hands stroked along your ass, thumb prodding at your core to feel how wet you were. Wonbin noticed the arousal dripping down your thigh as he carefully pushed his pointer finger in.

"Mmm." You moaned.

Wonbin continued thrusting his finger in and out, feeling around your walls as he moved. Your legs began shaking a little, the sense deprivation was really getting to you.

As Wonbin inserted another finger, his free hand snuck by your hip to rub your clit, feeling the erect nub as he stimulated you.

"Wonbin, ahh." You moaned. "Mmm, can you go harder?"

"Harder?"

"Please."

He began pumping his fingers in and out, carefully tapping your clit as he fingered you.

"Fuck you're making my dick hard again."

"Put it in." You moaned.

Wonbin tore his hands away, quickly getting into your drawer to grab another condom. He tried remembering what you showed him as he tore the foil and rolled it on. He remembered how your hands looked at he pulled the tip lightly, suctioning it on.

Standing on his knees, he aligned himself with your core, take a breath as he was still sensitive from earlier.

Pushing in, he felt his hips begin bucking in and out.

Aligned at her core, Wonbin inserted himself. Still so sensitive from his orgasm earlier.

"Fuck, you're even tighter."

"Rub my clit, Binnie."

He followed orders and messily rubbed your clit, heryourwalls beginning to clench even tighter around him. His hips thrusting harshly into you, so much he almost slipped out.

"Yes, yes, fuck! Wonbin!"

His hips continued thrusting as he felt you tighten around him with a loud moan. The sensation was too much as he felt himself cum in the condom. His large hands wrapped around your hips tightly as emptied himself.

He could barely pull himself out, the feeling so painful and pleasureful. Carefully, after some breaths, Wonbin pulled out, pulling the condom off before dumping it into your trash can, again.

He felt his body collapse next to you as you were adjusting to lay on your back.

"So." You were still panting. "Was that a good first time?" You had a wide smile, looking over at Wonbin.

"Yeah, it was memorable, at the least."

You laughed, turning on your side to look at him.

"Did you want me to help clean you up?" She asked, grabbing his hand.

"Not now, I wanna relax for a moment."

"Yeah." You said, grabbing at one of your blankets to cover him.

"Thank you," He said, "your apartment is really cold."

"This is not the pillow talk I was expecting, Bin."

He laughed, scooting closer to keep warm. Laying together, they mostly held each other while only talking sparingly.

"Here." You said, leaning over to your nightstand.

You opened your drawer to take out a baby wipe.

"Baby wipes?"

"For clean up." You defended yourself.

"You clean up with baby wipes?"

"You're expected me to hand you some rough wash cloth as a cum rag? No, they're great for cleaning up after sex."

You helped him clean himself, wiping some dried cum off of his face, grabbing another for his dick.

"Too cold!" He yelped.

"You're being a baby." You laughed.

[actuallysaiyan]

The First Time(Aka How Nanami Kento Lost His Virginity) Chapter Two: A Little More Touch Me

Chapter Two: A Little More Touch Me

warnings: making out, mentions of death, trauma, heavy petting, premature ejaculation pairings: Emo!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader summary: you meet up with Kento once more and invite him to your dorm on the night that holiday break starts. after an intense game of Two Truths And A Lie, things get a little handsy. you eventually have to comfort him after he gets a little too excited. a/n: Chapter title is in reference to the song "A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More Touch Me" by Fall Out Boy.

TAGLIST: @beneathstarryskies @benkeibear @kenpachisbrat @seireiteihellbutterfly @an-ever-angry-bi @namikyento @adharadotcom @heyitsd1yaa @darkstarlight82 @marikuchanxo @gennaray @markleeisdabestdrug

MDNI banners and Reblog for support banners by @\benkeibear <3

Masterlist

For a few weeks after the kiss, Nanami was avoiding you a little. He would say hi to you if you were to outright greet him, but he never really approached you. So you decided to give him a little room. You worried a little that maybe you had been too forward with him during that first hangout.

Your classes were going well. Slowly, you found yourself competing with Kento for the top spot in terms of grades. Your projects went well, and you even began to make friends. Things were going really smoothly. In a few more weeks, it was time for the first holiday leave of the semester. You were excited to go home.

Everything seemed to be going so well. You were thrilled at the prospect of having some time off to focus on spending time with your parents. Then the inevitable happened. They called to tell you they’d be staying somewhere else for the holiday.

So you were going to be stuck in your dorm for the holiday. You’d be alone. With your plans crushed, you decided to make the best of it. You’d be spending the majority of your time in the dorm, then maybe you’d try to go out and do a little shopping at some point. You wanted to make yourself feel a little better, even though you knew things would be bleak.

Everyone is getting ready to leave for the holiday, and you notice that only a handful of students are staying. One of them happens to be Nanami Kento. Your heart soars at the thought of spending even just a little time with him. Ever since that night, you haven’t been able to get him off your mind.

You approach him, a shy look on your face. Kento looks away, blushing a little. Then, when you’re face-to-face, he offers you a bashful smile.

“Staying here for the holiday?” you ask.

He nods, “Yeah. You?”

“I wasn’t planning on it, but my folks are headed out on vacation. So I can’t go home.”

Nanami finds himself feeling sad for you. He knows what it’s like to not have a place to go for the holidays. He hasn’t talked to his parents in a long time. Ever since he attended Jujutsu Tech, he had managed to keep them at a safe distance. They had understood, but that didn’t mean he didn’t miss them, and they didn’t miss him. Nanami just couldn’t find the courage to contact them after years of not talking to them.

“M-maybe we can keep each other company.”

Your heart skips a beat at his suggestion. You flash him the sweetest smile, nodding your head.

“I’d love that.”

Nanami scratches the back of his head nervously, “You busy right now?”

You shake your head, “Nope. Wanna come by my dorm? We can watch anime, get some take-out.”

Nanami smiles and he offers you his hand. For the first time in weeks, he was showing you that he still wanted to be around you. And you were enjoying every moment of being with him.

Once inside your dorm room, you and Kento decide to watch some anime together. Then you take the time to order a pizza, memorizing the toppings he enjoys. It’s like you two have been friends for ages instead of just a few weeks.

When the pizza gets there, you and Kento sit at the table. The topics of conversation seem to flow very easily between the two of you. But neither of you talk about the kissing. It’s something that seems to be a little taboo to mention right now.

Eventually, you suggest playing a little game to break the ice even more.

“Two truths and a lie. You tell three stories; two of them true and one of them a lie.”

Kento smirks. “Alright, I think I can enjoy this.”

You begin to think about what you’re going to tell him. This had been a game you had played in one of your clubs in high school. He seems to be thinking about it just as hard as you. Then you take another sip of your soda before you look at him.

“You first.” You offer, and he shakes his head.

“Not ready. You go first.”

You sigh but you smirk playfully. Then you scratch your chin, making a big show of considering it.

“Okay, so first, I used to work in a bank. It’s why I’m studying business and finance.”

Kento studies your features, “A bank, huh? Yeah okay…I could see it.”

“Secondly, my parents are high school sweethearts, and they had me very young. My mom was only nineteen when she gave birth to me.”

This makes Kento laugh: “High school sweethearts is the right term. Damn, nineteen?!”

You nod, “Yup! And lastly, I was in a commercial when I was a little baby.”

Kento considers all the things you’ve just said. He wants to almost believe you aren’t lying at all, but you don’t seem the type to lie about the game. He doesn’t know enough about you to truly figure out the lie, so he’s going to guess.

“I call bullshit on the last thing. There’s no way you were in a commercial.”

You laugh, “Nope! That’s not the lie. My parents weren’t high school sweethearts. They met in college.”

Kento’s eyes widened, “What commercial?!”

You go over to grab your laptop, and you pull up the video. It’s a commercial for baby food, and Kento finds himself so endeared by the way you were so cute then. Not to say you aren’t cute now, but it’s much different.

“You’re turn,” you say as you begin eating another piece of pizza. 

Kento considers it all very carefully. He knows that he has to keep his Jujutsu life under wraps, but maybe it couldn’t hurt for you to know a bit more about his past. He knows what he’s about to say might make you feel pity for him, and he doesn’t necessarily want to use it to his advantage, but he does want you to know more about him. Even the ugly parts need to be known.

“First, my star sign is Cancer. My birthday is July 3rd.”

You smile and say, “I can see it. You are moody and brooding.”

Kento frowns, “Hey! I’m not ‘moody’ nor am I ‘brooding’. I am just a loner…”

You reach over to squeeze his hand, “Sorry, please continue.”

Nanami looks over at you and sighs, “Blond isn’t my natural hair color. I dye it.”

“Oooh, rebellious. I like it.”

Then Nanami swallows hard. He had been considering this last one for a long time. He knows it could go sour. It could make him feel terrible to even speak about it. He looks at you and he feels his heart aching.

“My best friend died at seventeen.”

You nearly choke on your soda. Was this true? Surely that had to be the lie. You weren’t sure because you didn’t think his hair was dyed. So maybe his star sign was something else.

“W-what?” you manage to spit out.

Nanami looks down at his hands on his lap, “Which one is the lie? Isn’t that the game?”

You look away, your bottom lip trembling. This was starting to become serious. Because of the way he was acting and talking, you had to know that the third thing he said was the truth.

“D-did he really die? Your best friend?”

Nanami gasps at the way you just ignored the directives of the game. You looked inside of him, seeing his true emotions. You notice the quiver in his bottom lip. You watch as he wants to be completely swallowed up by the ground.

“H-he did. He died when he was seventeen.”

You don’t know what to say. How could someone go through something like that and continue on through life? You reach over and give his hand a careful squeeze.

“We can stop the game now,” you offer.

Kento nods shakily, “Probably for the best.”

After a few moments of silence, you get up to clean the kitchenette. Then you guide him over to the couch, wrapping him up in a blanket. Nanami feels the warmth coming from you. Something about these little actions is calming him down.

Then you both look at each other. There’s an electricity in the air, tinged with sadness. He reaches out for you, pulling you in closer. He holds you tightly, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.

“You’ve been my first friend since then.” He finally says: “Well, my first close friend since Yu.”

You blink away tears. “I’m here for you, Kento. I promise.”

He shudders in your embrace. He’s not sure what’s coming over him. A myriad of emotions seem to be attacking him, making him feel weak for you. Then he looks at you with tear-filled eyes. You slowly close the gap, kissing his lips so softly. Kento pushes himself closer, cupping your face.

“I’m sorry for dropping that bomb on you,” he whispers.

You smile sweetly. “It’s okay, honey. You’re allowed to talk to me about that stuff if you want to.”

Then Kento resumes kissing you. It’s less sloppy than the last time. You can tell he was taking his cues from you. This time, he seems confident enough to take the lead. His tongue glides against your bottom lip, and you gladly part them.

He lets out a cute moan when your tongues touch. You don’t know if he’s using this type of emotion and release to try and forget about the pain, but you won’t judge him for it. You’ll allow him to do this if it means he’ll feel better afterwards.

His hands begin to wander; he’s caressing you so tenderly and tentatively. You allow your hands to rest on his chest, gently rubbing. You begin to feel the physique that seems to be underneath all that dark clothing.

“You taste so good,” he says timidly when you pull away.

“Yeah? Not just like pizza?”

He chuckles. “Better than pizza.”

This causes you to kiss him deeply. You guide one of his hands to your breast, making him gasp. It’s so cute to know that he’s a complete virgin. You know you want to show him how to navigate this rocky road. You want to show him how to properly have a good time sexually. Your first time had been with someone more experienced than yourself, and they had taught you all the right things.

Then you feel his other hand join the first one, and he’s kneading your breasts. You pull away from the kiss to rest your forehead against his. You can tell he’s learned some of this from porn, and you place your own hands on his.

“Gentler,” you whisper. “Softer.”

“S-sorry…”

“Don’t be. You’re learning. You can take your time, we’re not in a rush.”

Kento feels a renewed sense of confidence. He uses your words of wisdom and goes slower and more gently. You begin to feel aroused, and you pant and moan at the way he’s massaging your tits. He’s going to become a natural in no time if you keep guiding him like this.

Suddenly, he pushes you back against the couch. You look up at him, and a smirk spreads on his face. He leans in to kiss you, laying his weight on top of you. It’s all so needy and a little desperate, but not unwanted. Kento kisses you with a heated passion.

“Mmmm, fuck you smell good.”

Just his words alone could make you melt into a puddle of mush. You don’t remember the last time you enjoyed a make-out session quite like this one. Nanami finally gains enough courage to begin grinding against you, and immediately you feel his erection against your thigh. Your eyes nearly bulge out when you feel just how thick his cock is.

“I want you so badly,” he whispers. 

“I want you too,” you nip at his bottom lip. “Let’s keep taking it slow, honey.”

Kento grunts softly as he grinds against you again. You move in tandem with him, enjoying the way this feels. Your body is heating up from the friction, and you can see the way there’s a dusting of pink on Kento’s cheeks and the tops of his ears from how aroused he is.

He’s trying to ignore the pleasure building in the pit of his tummy, and he’s certainly trying his best to ignore the way his balls are drawing up so fast. Nothing could ruin this moment for him. He’s whimpering and moaning your name as you two continue kissing in a hungry way and moving your bodies in the most perfect way.

“I—I—hnng fuck this feels so good,”

You nod your head, moaning his name as you grind against him a little harder. Kento whines as his cock begins to throb, and he’s squeezing his eyes shut to hold off the inevitable. A few more thrusts from your hips and he’s a goner.

“Shit! W-wait, I—”

He cries out as he begins to cum. Shot after shot of his cum begins to fill the front of his boxers. His hips stutter and he’s got the sexiest ‘O’ face you’ve ever seen. His cheeks are still a little pink as he slowly comes down from the high.

“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!” He curses as he gets up.

You’re quick to get up and you gather him up in your arms. You press the softest kiss to his lips.

“Listen to me, Ken. I’m not mad.”

He’s relieved to hear your words, but he’s still so fucking mortified. He wants to leave. He can’t bring himself to look into your eyes right now. 

“I’m not mad. It can happen to anyone. If anything, I am so flattered.”

Kento scoffs, “Shut up. It’s embarrassing.”

You kiss him again, “Baby, it’s okay.”

You offer him something to get changed into, and he finally relents and agrees to it. You find some baggy sweatpants in your room and you hand them to him along with a washcloth. He scurries to the bathroom, cursing himself.

You sit on the couch, adjusting the pillows and blankets to make a cute little cuddle pile. Then you grab some water and wait for him to return. Kento eventually does return to you after cleaning himself up and changing. And of course, a lengthy pep talk in the mirror.

He sits next to you, leaving some space. You hand him the bottle of water. He takes a few sips and then places the bottle down on the coffee table. You slowly scooch over towards him, smiling sweetly. Then you take his hand in yours, and he doesn’t pull away.

“Stay the night? We can snuggle and watch anime.”

Kento laughs, “Alright, alright. I’ll stay.”

You rest your head on his shoulder. You have so many questions to ask him, but for right now, you just want to bask in this feeling. Kento rests his head on yours, thankful for the silence.

[namazunomegami]

Mélange

Pairing: Okkotsu Yuta x gn!reader

Synopsis: Sometimes humans are not above animals. Sometimes they burn to fulfill the same basic needs and not strive for more in the moment. A full belly, safety, procreation. What happens when all three of them need to be satisfied? Tinged with spice. Under the influence of an unknown substance.

CW: aphrodisiac, dubcon, slight somnophilia, feral and animalistic Yuta, he has cannibalistic thoughts, licking, lovebites, scratching, biting, slight pain, handjob, premature ejaculation, fingering, Reader can feel Yuta’s ring during fingering, slight dacryphilia if you squint, implied multiple rounds, porn with feelings, good old unprotected sex + creampie, both Reader and Yuta are ultra possessive in their own toxic way <33

WC: 3.6k

Credits: my dearest @notveryrussian for proofreading this mess and doing a bit of rework on the tenses <33 the cannibalcore pics are from pinterest

Song rec: needles and pins by deftones and gibson girl by ethel cain both give a nice vibe to the fic as we slowly transition from Yuta's POV to Reader's POV

A/N: Can't believe I'm posting my first one shot here 🥹 After so many unsuccessful attempts to wrap up multichaptered fics, at least, this one messy smut got finished. My first ever finished fic 🥹 And the first to get completed in a relatively short time. Yes, a week is a short time for me. And happy holidays to y’all, this is gonna be the last fic in this year so expect only shitposts from me from now on lmao.

Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

Minors do not interact or else I'm gonna go apeshit, also a seperate warning for heavy dark content as usual. If there's anything mentioned in the tags that you're not comfortable with, this is not your fic.

Many sorcerers envy the title of special grade. Yuta thinks these people deserve a separate Naraka in Hell. They don’t realize the immense responsibility, they can’t fathom the challenges, the danger of the missions. The threat those curses pose. They only care about the power he carries.

During today’s mission, Yuta realized he’s not entirely an unstoppable force. Even someone like him is weak to certain fighting styles, he can’t counter everything with his wide range of copied techniques. This curse’s grade was well deserved. Whenever the katana slashed deep into it’s skin, a strange kind of gas was emitted from the wounds. Though he eventually exorcised the curse, he did breathe in the weird, sweet-smelling substance. The scent was hard to resist, it felt like the perfect mixture of all his favorite smells, inviting and comforting. However, he trusted his body to withstand the temptation, reinforced to near perfection with cursed energy and the usage of reversed cursed technique.

There was no problem until he finished reporting back to the higher ups and was on the way home. Maybe it was just the fatigue, the late summer heat, the humidity of the night but something made him feel weird. Almost sick. A thin veil of sweat glistened on his skin, his cheeks, ears and upper body were flushed. His chest was heaving, a burning, aching sensation tormented him between his legs, throbbing with a synced rhythm to his heartbeat. All his thoughts narrowed down to one single, inherently primal thing. A need. A hunger.

Shame and confusion swelled inside his chest. How can he lose his composure? How can he want it so badly? If he wasn’t so wired for monogamy, he would have fucked anyone who moved. And with every passing minute the feeling was getting worse. Descending slowly to the brink of madness. Hell, he was close to wheezing and growling like a rabid dog. He already had no patience to find the right key to the door. He could break that shit, he definitely could. He had no idea why, but he could stop himself from doing that. Maybe the insane price to get it fixed.

But the comfort of his home isn’t helping him. He can’t calm down, he can’t unwind. On the contrary, everything intensifies the strange urge in him to act territorial. But it’s only natural when he grew up feeling like he didn’t have anything he could call his own, whether it’s a material possession or a person. Every comprehensible thought vanished from his head. Leaving only the instincts. The need to claim. He immediately goes to the bedroom, not even bothering to have a quick shower or a light meal.

He gazes at your sleeping form, unknowing and peaceful. Innocent and vulnerable like a newborn lamb and he’s… he wouldn’t compare himself to a wolf, he’s a more vicious predator than that, all starved and keen on capturing its prey. Your limbs are thrown in every direction on the mattress, a thin, silk blanket barely concealing your body, but you’re hugging a some of it to your chest. Like you’re missing him, finding solace in the way the material is touching you. The windows are wide open, hoping that the night air can cool you down.

Yuta caught himself almost drooling at the sight. He can’t stop himself, he can’t fight the shameless thoughts plaguing him. The need, the want is stronger than what he deems right in the moment. His steps are quiet, that part of the floor that normally creaks is now completely silent. He looms over you, like a sinful, ungodly spirit, your very own kanashibari that’s bound to you. His weight is pressing down on the mattress ever so slightly, caging your form between his arms. He breathes in the smell of your freshly showered skin. A mixture of heady vanilla, milk and honey. He mindlessly licks a stripe up your thigh, wanting to taste you, to bite you, to tear out a big chunk of your flesh with his teeth to satisfy this torturous hunger he feels for you. More than anything he wants to devour you. Completely. Have you all for himself. The thought alone makes his dick so hard it’s outright painful.

He ascends towards your hips, leaving soft yet wet kisses that make you twitch in your sleep. Yuta swears that he’s more sensitive to all stimuli, his senses are working at their maximum capacity. He’s able to feel every morsel, every particle of you. The soft peach fuzz, the bumps, the ridges of your stretch marks, their pearl-like glistening texture flowing on the surface of your skin like a river. The material of your shorts, loose and thin, he can feel the seams on the band of your underwear through the fabric. Where the bones bend, where flesh folds. Your smell. Not just from the shower gel and the laundry detergent but your natural scent, so strong he believes it’s some kind of weird pheromone that’s driving him wild. To the point he almost considers nudging his nose between your legs, just like dogs do when they smell blood there.

Maybe it’s not entirely wrong to claim you this way. He can spare you from this more primal side of him, you won’t get to see it and despise him for it. It’s enough if he deals with the shame alone, self-deprecation is his ultimate talent afterall. But that can wait until after he finished soothing this excruciating itch. Because now the last remnant of his resolve goes out the window.

He pulls up your shirt all the way up to your chest. His shirt to be exact. It makes his heart flutter, a piece of him enveloping you, makes the boundaries between your sense of selves blend and blur. The thought of you using his stuff as your own feels so right, so promising.

He practically glues his face to the expanse of your stomach. The flesh is so soft between his teeth, feels so good to bite on it, so easy to suck on it until the skin turns a deep purple.

And maybe… maybe he can lower his crotch onto your knees. Just a little. Just for a little friction…

You stir, opening your eyes slowly, tiredness and confusion are still heavy on your expression. And then you feel teeth nipping at your stomach, fingers digging into the dips of your hips firmly, some wetness here and there along your leg.

Your first response is fear.

You start to squirm and fuss, kicking your legs up in the air, not even thinking about who’s doing this to you until Yuta grips your shoulders and pushes you back into the sheets, keeping you still by the weight of his own body, shushing you. You can feel his nails penetrating the skin, branding the crescent Moon itself into your flesh.

“It’s me, don’t panic.”

You’d recognize this voice anywhere, but you blinked a few times just to clear your vision. The striking white of his coat is easy to spot, even in the dimly lit darkness of the room.

“Yuta…?”

Your voice is an ode, a blessing. Even when it’s hoarse and faint after waking up. He bends down and kisses your temple, nuzzling into your hairline, breathing in your scent. His body feels oddly warm, almost overly so, radiating through you. Through your spine, to the very center of your being and that’s when you notice that you’re a little bit… hot and bothered. What has he done to you while you were asleep?

“I’m so sorry…” he whispers an apology. But his voice is just… it’s like his mind is not entirely here. Something is hurting him and he’s trying to conceal it. Barely. You can hear his voice is hitched from the deep breath he takes, in a futile affort to calm himself. “Have you been sleeping for long?”

He asks you for the sake of it, there’s no genuine interest behind it. Even if you were sleeping for hours, it wouldn’t stop him. He couldn’t stop. He genuinely feels like he’ll die if he can’t get it out of his system. He snuggles his face into the crook of your neck, listening to the rhythm of life coursing through your veins. The thought of puncturing your jugular with his teeth is so irresistible. He must do it… It’ll drive him insane if he won’t.

“N-not really.” your answer is weak, all your strength is used to move your arm freely, trying to locate your phone on the bedside table. The light coming from the screen almost blinds you as you’re checking the time. “I went to bed about… half an hour ago.”

He dips his fingers right into the hollow dips between your ribs, he kneads the skin in a way that has his nails slightly scratching you. And then you realize that you’re almost entirely topless.

He traps your earlobe with his teeth, sucking on the soft tissue.

“Y-Yuta…” your voice is more reprimanding that you want it to be. But your patience is starting to run thin. You want to know what the fuck is wrong with him, he never did anything like this before. Even if he’s horny as hell he would ask for your permission because that’s the way he is.

Instead of giving you an answer he bites your neck. Hard. It hurts, it makes you yelp. Shit, that’s gonna leave a mark. And he growls, just like a wild animal.

You squirm, you jolt, trying to get away from the source of your pain with a prolonged hiss. Only one hand of his is enough to stop you from fussing while the other fondles your chest. Your nipple is caught between his fingers, he twists it slightly. You can’t see it getting red, hard and swollen. His moves are awkward and tactless, but somehow they help with soothing the sharp pain in your neck. Your tensed body eases up a little.

He kicks the inner side of your knee with his own, creating a little space in between them, then forces your legs apart with one smooth movement. As he tries to settle right under your core, you feel him brushing the apex of your thigh.

He’s so painfully hard.

You’re sure he can read the instinctual reactions of your body. The rush of adrenaline, your pulse, how your heart is almost breaking your ribs with every beat. You’re getting more and more aware of your surroundings because you have no idea what will happen to you. He pins your wrists down on the bed. He doesn’t want you to escape.

What has gotten into him? Where’s your shy and gentle man, your sweet little angel? The one who needs so much guidance, who gets so awkward about his lack of experience compared to you. The one you need to encourage to talk about what he likes since you won’t judge him for it. Well, angels shouldn’t be benevolent and sweet, right? They’re the soldiers of god after all. And the depth of his psyche is still very much a mystery to you…

“I don’t want to hurt you… I just need you.”

He has no control over his own thoughts, everything on his mind gets blabbered out. Not just that he needs you, but that he wants to fuck you (he rarely uses that word so you’re even more baffled), that he wants to eat you up, bite for bite, digest you so nobody else can have you.

It sounds devoted yet utterly terrifying.

“You’re-“

He’s scary. Well, you knew this prior to crawling into his life. What people thought about him, one rumor more unhinged than the other and you have no idea how much truth there was to them. Everyone has some sort of admiration, respect for him or repulsion of him. You just tend to forget sometimes, how malicious his cursed energy feels, how his eyes never reflect the light, looking outright dead. But it’s all so contradictory to his personality… you know that you’re dear to him, he’s willing to risk everything for his friends, he’s so starved for connection, to carve himself a place within people’s hearts. You blamed the whole phenomenon on Rika. And you took pride in yourself, for taming a monster.

“I feel so…” he suspires, trying his best to contain himself. “… weird.”

And he’s a kind monster indeed, even now, controlling his impulses as he humps your thigh like a feral dog.

“I don’t know if I’m able to hold back, so I need to know….”

His voice is desperate, almost a plea. He’s afraid of himself too. With the last bit of his sanity, he wants to make sure that it’s alright for you, whatever he has in store for you.

You don’t protest.

His lips crash into yours in a violent, hungry kiss. Your teeth clang together, he shoves his entire tongue in your mouth. He grabs the hem of your shorts, peeling off anything that covers you below the waist. You hear the fabric tear. It’s the same with his own clothes too, in a few blinks of your eyes he’s already stark naked.

He takes your hand, pulls it towards him, you can feel him in your palm. So hot, hard and swollen to the touch. He closes your fingers around him and his hips start moving back and forth, fucking himself into your grip. You smear the precum along his length with your fingertips, squeezing lightly when you feel the base. It has him moaning, breathily, more vocal than he usually is. He’s so sensitive, his pace quickens and his voice is thinner, almost like a whimper.

And he groans. Unexpectedly. It bursts deep from his throat. You feel his cum pooling in your palm. Though you may be surprised, you don’t make a big deal about it. You search for tissues on the bedside table to clean your hand like nothing happened.

“Feelin’ okay?”

Your voice is calming, tender, it warms his heart but the mere sight of his cum on your hand makes the blood rush to his dick again.

You sit up to caress his face. You open your mouth to question him, but he won’t let you start your aftercare routine.

“It’s… not enough.”

He grabs your thigh, hooking your leg over his shoulder, giving him better access to your naked core. Your back falls onto the mattress again.

“I’ll take care of you.”

It’s a promise, you’re sure of it.

His fingertips sink into your folds, relief ripples through him when he finds them already wet. He goes all out on you, his thumb circles your clit and two fingers dip in at your entrance, waiting to loosen you up so they can be pushed inside. His nails gently caress your inner thigh, it’s a tickling sensation, goosebumps dot your skin, a sigh dies on your lips. Treating it as a sign, his fingers start stretching your walls. They curl and curl inside you to the point of the cold band of his ring touching your folds, your essence soiling the stainless metal. The symbol of the haunting spirit of his first love. Childish love that it is, unserious, all just a game. The promises… the word forever holds no weight. Or maybe it does but they have no idea how hard it is to maintain those vows.

Can you ever compare to Rika in his eyes? Have the same effect over him? You don’t dare to talk about it just yet. No, the nature of your relationship is not the same. Childhood love is not like adult love, you just want some reassurance. You want to feel important.

And your reassurance is soaking that wretched finger with your juices. Make that wretched ring yours. He spreads his fingers inside you, scissoring you apart, eagerly working to prepare you. You’re holding onto the sheets and the pillows desperately, your body feels so volatile you might as well float away.

When he pulls out you feel hollow, incomplete. But he won’t keep you waiting long. The head of his cock feels like salvation. Scorching hot and wet with the mixed arousal. And he completes you with one smooth thrust. You’re whole, fulfilled, a merged existence worth suffering over. He’s throbbing deep within your walls, pulsating through your nerves. You can’t tell if the noise coming out of him is a moan, a whine, or a growl, you only know that it’s bordering on bestial. Filled with need, an ache, coupled with something beyond your comprehension.

He drills into you, there’s so much strength and resilience in him, it almost makes you scared. But something else also swells inside your chest. An unknown kind of excitement, a thrill, it makes you feverish, wired. The dissonance between his absolutely feral state and the fact that he’d never hurt you. Or maybe he would, in a way that you’d like it. Nobody could bite through your throat with such force that your windpipe breaks, only him, him and no one else.

He holds you at the back of your pelvic bone, lifts you up in an utterly perfect angle. You mewl him that it feels so good, so perfect, so raw. You love this feeling so much. You get completely lost and immersed in it.

“…it?”

His voice is faint yet his broken self-worth shines through it. Poor soul… You didn’t pay attention to his most important desire. He’s a parasite living off of your kind words, but nothing can make him as blissful as knowing you love him, despite everything he despises about himself. And you’ll feed him. Prove it to him that he matters more than the things he does to you.

“Oh Yuta, my sweet…” the rest of the sentence gets stuck in your throat as you open your arms and he crashes into your embrace like a lost, lonely puppy. You hug him tightly, brushing through his locks with a free hand. The sweat makes the strands stick together. “Of course I love you, don’t be silly.”

He might as well have been a puppy in his previous life. And now your words eased his guilt about his temporary condition. He gained your forgiveness.

What he does next is much more instinctual. He folds you in half, where your knees bend, is pressed right against his traps, your heels graze the middle of his back. Now his thrusts have weight, uncovering spots that even you had no idea that existed inside of you. Tears of joy prickle in your eyes, calling upon whatever deity’s name you can think of, off the top of your head. You can swear his pace increases at the sight. It’s so intense a broken cry erupts from your throat.

He thrusts right into a sweet spot, which has you melting and trembling. Please is the only word your lips can form. At this point, you couldn’t care less about the lewd sounds of your skin slapping together or the squelching noises that make the whole act sloppy, shameless and primal, you only want to reach  your peak, and you’re not far from it as you’re clenching around him with a rhythm that you have no control over.

It crashes, it ruptures, sudden, sharp and hot like an electric spark. A scream empties your lungs, but Yuta muffles it with sealing his mouth onto yours. You feel yourself getting filled as you’re convulsing around his length.

After he fucks you through your orgasm you feel yourself shaking, your whole body is limp, numb, drifting slowly to sleep. You’re both soaked in sweat, your bodies stick together but there’s a need to bond further in each other’s embrace. You plant a kiss between his locks, praising him, telling him you love him. Satisfaction clouds your mind, like a soft, pillowy pink mist.

However, his cock is still not soft.

“I have no idea what has gotten into you.” you tell him, marveling, as you’re still catching on your breath. “I like it though, but you owe me an explanation.”

He handles you gently, like you’re some precious thing, made from glass, fragile. Your body is like a ragdoll’s, he has you lying on your stomach, lazily, flatly, you might as well fuse together with the mattress. Calloused fingers are drawing nonfigurative shapes on your shoulder blades.

“I’ll tell you right after we finish.”

Your blood runs cold for a moment.

“Again? Yuta, for the love of god I’m exhausted.” you whine.

He apologetically kisses your spine.

“Just this one, okay? Please? I’ll do all the work, I’ll make it quick. You only need to relax, you can sleep even.”

You want to tell him that sounds a little bit creepy, but you don’t have the strength to talk. He kisses the two shallow dimples right above your tailbone. His gaze lingers on your folds, admiring how red and swollen you are.

“If you manage to make me cum again, you deserve a fucking award.” you comment, face nuzzled into the pillow, your voice is obviously snarky.

You can feel teeth sinking into the flesh of your asscheek. The mark that is burning on your neck found it’s pair. He presses down your overly sensitive clit with his thumb, balancing the pain out with pleasure. But it gets overstimulated so easily, you feel the need to bite the pillow.

You brace yourself with a deep breath through your nose. You’re going to pay him back next time, you promise yourself that you’ll make a begging, crying mess out of him, and the thought makes you chuckle.

[soft-subby-strawberry]

୧ ‧₊˚🧸💤Sweet Sapphic Sleepover✦. ⊹

･ﾟ➽ Tags: (Bottom) Trans Fem x (Top) Cis Fem, Blowjob, Cowgirl, Softcore Sex, Creampie, Premature Ejaculation, Only Trans Fem orgasm & Childhood Besties.

Word Count: 968 Word

❥︎ (๑>◡<๑) ═══════ ʚ Girl's Night ɞ ═══════ ❥︎ (๑>◡<๑)

This was the first time you and your childhood best friend were having a sleepover after you've come out as trans. Despite your friend making it very clear of her support, you couldn't help your insistent nerves, especially since you've had the biggest crush on her since the 2nd grade.

As a heavy sigh escapes your lips, I place two large mugs down on the coffee table. On your side of the table, sat a rose-pink Daphne (from Scooby Doo) mug. A large amount of whip cream poking out of the top with a drizzle of caramel syrup. My mug similarly matches yours but with Velma.

A deep warmth envelopes you, a big cheesy smile running across your cheeks. "I can't believe you kept the mugs we used as kids." You let out a soft giggle, picking up your mug, and noticing the small imperfections emphasized by time.

I lay back against the couch, my short black hair ruffled against the plush arm. I smile warmly, "These are the fine china. Do you think I would throw them away? What? Next, you'll say the Zoopal plates aren't high quality."

We both share a hardy laugh as we sip down our hot chocolates and watch movies together. The nerves you had before seemed to wash away as the night went on. You look over to me, a warm comforting glow illuminating from my figure. Your heart pitters and patters' as you lose yourself in my presence. My bigger chest rises and falls with every breath. My nipples grow harder against my tank top, which barely contains my breasts anyhow.

Your eyes widen as your gaze falls on my breasts. Gulping sharply, you shift yourself a bit, your hard-on becoming more evident. I turn my head to the side, my baby blues glimmering. Your heart almost lunges out of your chest as my gaze hits you. You quickly look away, your cheeks growing a pinker tint. You sit there, silent, hoping I hadn't noticed your very clear bulge.

Then, unexpectedly, I gently grab your chin, forcing you to look at me. I smile wickedly, my chubby pale cheeks already growing red. "My, my such a pervert are we?"

Your eyes wide, a flustered nervous expression washing over your face, your shoulders bugging up. "No, it's not like that! I didn't mean to..." I interrupt your blabbering excuses with a hot wet kiss, I moan softly as our tongues intertwine. With my one hand, I move down to your pj shorts, I grab your cock gently making you gasp between kisses.

"Damn... why didn't you tell me you were so big?" I pant through our hot lips. You blush harder, whimpering as I rub you through your shorts. I move down, leaving a thin web of saliva connecting from our lips. Once on my knees, I stare back up at you, those damn baby blues. You can't help, but whimper looking at me.

I pull out your fully hard cock, I lick my lips as I shift my hungry gaze back at it. I take one long slow lick from the balls, up the base, the shaft, and then the tip. Your entire body squirms at my touch like a thousand electric pulses went off in your nerves. I wrap my mouth around your tip, licking and sucking softly.

I close my eyes, before pushing my head down on your shaft. I gag a bit. "Ah!~ Princes- princess!~ please don't hurt you.. yourself for me-" you gasp loudly. Your head falls back onto the couch cushion. I ignore your warning, pushing my head up and down. My tongue slurped around the shaft, small noises escaping my slobbery lips.

Your eyes roll back, your thighs shaking, your heart pounding out of your chest. A slew of incoherent whimpers, whines, and moans escape your lips. I pull my head up from your cock, my saliva running down my lips and onto my pudgy tits. I gasp softly, tilting my head a bit, I rub my jaw softly. "Damn.. that's harder than it looks in porn..."

Your eyes are glazed over with pure lust and desire as you look at me with pure admiration. Your chest rises and falls, as you pant like a bitch in heat. I giggle, smiling at you as I sit on your lap, positioning your tip against my slippery entrance. "I bet you wouldn't have expected breaking your bestie cherry, huh.~"

You close your eyes, letting out a breathy gasp, "Never... though I have fantasized about this moment for years."

"Really?" I smirk.

"Yes.."

"Good" I grip your shoulders and thrust myself down on your cock. My eyes squint shut, and I gasp loudly as I feel her tip push deeper into my tight flower. "Fuck.. ugh.. it's.. been awhile.." I groan softly. A huff or two escaped my smooshed-together lips.

Your eyes roll back fully, your head pushed roughly against the cushion. An intense wave of pleasure crashes into your body, causing you to shiver and shake. Tears welding in the corner of your eyes, your lips open wide. "Uh ah!!~ Fu-Fuck!." You moan loudly, your chest heaving at this point.

Before I can even move, I feel a warm hot sensation rushing into my canal. My eyes flutter open, and a confused expression forms on my beat cheeks. "You got, to be fucking kidding me." I tilt my head to the side to look down at our connected pelvises. Dribbles of white slide down my thick thighs and onto the floor.

As I sat up slightly to look at your face, you had a very goofy expression. Your eyes glazed over in pure bliss, cheeks red, and a smug smile drooling. I let out a soft sigh, "You always did finish first in every game we played."

❥︎ (๑>◡<๑) ═══════ ʚ The End! ɞ ═══════ ❥︎ (๑>◡<๑)

Hi!! I decided to make another fanfiction. This time, I feel more confident in my writing. I actually really enjoyed making this! Please, like always, give me constructive criticism and opinions! If you have any suggestions or comments, please submit an Anon.

[talk-danmei-to-me]

My post with pictures keeps getting flagged for explicit content (but the porn blogs that spam the danmei tags are fine apparently…)

Anyways… I predicted at the end of ep 62 that Jaekyung was about to whip out some S tier foreplay. And you know what, he absolutely did. The cat and mouse vibes were so good this episode.

Kim Dan was doing his best to channel a sex doll and Joo Jaekyung was having none of it. We got some grade A yaoi spittle and Jaekyung’s face was a picture throughout.

I mean his absolute shock over the insinuation Kim Dan does not in fact enjoy having sex with him broke his brain. But it does inspire some nostalgic nipple play and the greatest act of service a toxic yaoi top can give. But what I find super fun about Jaekyung’s head scene is the reveal that he’s never done it before but instantly decides he’s good at it - iconic behaviour.

Then to top it all off, Jaekyung is almost hit with a case of premature ejaculation whilst Kim Dan’s mask is starting to crack. Despite his best efforts, the man is starting to get into it. And to make this seem more like a proper meta, the amount of work Jaekyung is putting in this episode could potentially be a call back to when Kim Dan asked Jaekyung to use his mouth. Which I’m pretty sure was the last time they had sex.

[lorasdolly]

people on instagram reels r so sensitive 💔💔 i just saw this video that was like "and i thought i was brave for reading my romantasy in public.." and it's a guy reading "coping with premature ejaculation" and i personally thought the video was funny...

yet all the comments are like "shut up it's better than reading corn on paper"

you haven't picked up a book since third grade jeremiah maybe book porn will do you some good

[sextoyreview]

Types of Male Toys: How Much Do You Know?

Male toys, or adult products and sex toys, are not only a supplement and expansion of traditional sexual methods, but also an effective tool for men to explore themselves, enjoy private pleasures, and enhance emotional communication between partners. This article will explore the various types of male toys in depth, analyze the cultural significance behind them, and how they promote men's physical and mental health and emotional development.

Main types of male toys

Vibration toys

Vibration toys are the most basic and popular type of male toys. They use built-in motors to generate vibrations of different frequencies and intensities to simulate or enhance sexual stimulation and help users achieve higher sexual pleasure. This type of toys includes but is not limited to vibrators (although often regarded as female toys, they can also be used by men), prostate massagers (designed specifically for men, which stimulate the prostate area to bring unique pleasure), and multi-functional vibration rings. The diversity of vibration toys meets the preferences and needs of different men, and can add unlimited fun whether it is enjoyed alone or in interaction with partners.

Simulation toys

Simulation toys, such as simulated vaginas and simulated mouths, are designed to simulate the real sense of human contact and provide users with a more realistic sexual experience. These toys are usually made of environmentally friendly materials such as high-grade silicone or TPE. They are soft to the touch, elastic, and finely designed. They can simulate skin texture, temperature, and even moisture, making users feel as if they are in a real sex scene. Simulation toys are not only suitable for single men to release sexual pressure, but also a good helper for partners to increase interest and explore new experiences.

Sexy costumes and props

Sexy costumes and props are a special category of male toys. They do not act directly on sexual organs, but stimulate users' sexual fantasies and enhance emotional involvement and immersion in sex by changing their appearance and adding role-playing elements. From simple blindfolds and handcuffs to complex role-playing costumes and masks, to various sexy accessories such as feathers and whips, these props add more playfulness and interactivity to sex, making sex an adventure full of creativity and imagination.

Smart and high-tech toys

With the advancement of technology, smart and high-tech elements have also begun to be integrated into male toys. This type of toy not only has the functions of traditional toys, but also incorporates advanced technologies such as Bluetooth connection, APP control, and smart sensing, making the user experience more personalized and convenient. For example, some prostate massagers can adjust the vibration mode and intensity through mobile phone APP, and even automatically adjust according to the user's physical reaction; while some smart sexy underwear can be remotely controlled, allowing partners to share passionate moments even if they are in different places.

Educational and training toys

Educational and training toys are an emerging field in recent years. They aim to help men improve their sexual ability and sexual health through scientific methods. This type of toys includes but is not limited to penis exercisers (promoting blood circulation in the penis and enhancing erection hardness through specific designs), delay rings (reducing sensitivity and prolonging sexual intercourse through physical compression), and auxiliary treatment products for sexual dysfunctions such as premature ejaculation and impotence. The emergence of educational and training toys reflects people's increasing attention to sexual health issues and their positive attitude towards improving sex life through scientific and technological means.

The significance and value of male toys

Promoting sexual health and mental health

Male toys provide men with a safe and private space where they can freely explore their sexual needs and preferences, thereby reducing sexual repression and improving sexual satisfaction. In addition, by using male toys, men can also learn to better control their physical reactions, enhance self-confidence and sexual ability, and promote mental health.

Enhance emotional communication between partners

In a relationship, male toys can be used as a medium to enhance emotional communication. Exploring new ways of sex and sharing the experience of using toys together can not only increase the intimacy and trust between the two parties, but also stimulate more sexual fantasies and creativity, making sex life more colorful.

Promote the popularization of sex education

The popularity of male toys has also promoted the popularization of sex education to a certain extent. It makes people aware of the importance of sexual health, encourages people to face up to their sexual needs, and seek scientific and reasonable solutions. At the same time, the diversity of male toys also reflects the diversity of sexual orientation and sexual preferences, which helps to break gender stereotypes and promote the openness and tolerance of sexual culture.

Several suggestions for choosing and using male toys

Understand your own needs

When choosing male toys, you must first clarify your needs and purposes. Is it for sexual health and pleasure? Or for physical and mental relaxation and decompression? After clarifying the needs, choose according to your actual situation and preferences.

Focus on quality and safety

No matter what type of male toys, you should pay attention to their quality and safety. Choose regular brands and products with quality assurance, and avoid using toys made of inferior materials to avoid causing harm to the body. At the same time, attention should be paid to cleaning and maintenance during use to ensure the hygiene and safety of the toys.

Keep an open mind

Many people may still have prejudices or misunderstandings about the field of male toys. However, with the progress of society and the openness of ideas, we should look at them with a more tolerant and understanding attitude. Male toys are a way to explore oneself and enjoy life, and should not be labeled with any negative labels.

Respect personal choice

Finally, we must respect everyone's choice and privacy. No matter what type of male toys are used, it is a manifestation of personal freedom and rights. We should treat the choices of others with equality and respect, and avoid judging or interfering with other people's lifestyles.

Conclusion

As part of sexual culture, male toys are changing people's sexual lifestyle and sexual concepts with their unique charm and unlimited potential. They are not only auxiliary tools for sex, but also a way for men to explore themselves, enjoy life, and enhance emotions.

[sdranothersmut]

Yurei should get some titfucks from Rei. The guy got himself an A somehow.

“…..m-miss Rei you really don’t have to..my grades are always good, a-and I don’t need a rewa- a-ahh-!! Mnghhh!!”

Rei rolls her eyes as her juicy chest wraps around Yurei’s fat cock, to say she likes him would be an understatement!, what can she say? She loves the spooky ones! Though as she pumps his cock she notices something…weird…

“A-are you seriously about to cum already? I just started!!”

Yurei’s cock is throbbing and leaking quite a bit of pre cum!! Seems he may prematurely ejaculate!!

Rei decides to test this out and pushes her tits up and down his throbbing member much much faster! In just a few seconds Yurei splatters her face with his hot sweet load!! Making her angry and even more horny!!

“Oh no no NO! You’re not gonna just cum and run I don’t care how smart you are your stamina is pathetic, prepare yourself….”

She taught Teruya how to handle his stamina so now she’ll teach this whelp, seems Yurei is in for quite the LONG day!!

[ao3feed-ateez]

My Name On Your Lips

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/t8ArRQY by WSNthusiast69 And San was left to wonder when he lost his mind. He never found the answer though, especially not when a mere thirty minutes later, his eyes found that flowing hair once again, as it lay back against the shoulder of a stranger, while leather covered hips swirled against denim and damp collarbones reflected the purple lights of the party around him. No, he was left to further question his sanity as lips pulled over teeth in a cocky grin until that sharp jawline was turning to press his pink mouth to the man he danced for. And San hated how much he wished it was him. ///or/// San is only focused on his grades, on graduating University with top marks and landing a good job. Until a certain self proclaimed party king starts filling his every thought. Words: 29250, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: ATEEZ (Band) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Choi San (ATEEZ), Jung Wooyoung (ATEEZ), Song Mingi (ATEEZ), Kang Yeosang, Choi Jongho (ATEEZ), Jeong Yunho (ATEEZ), Park Seonghwa, Kim Hongjoong Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung (ATEEZ), Choi Jongho/Kang Yeosang, Jeong Yunho/Song Mingi (ATEEZ), Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Switching, switchers woosan, but mostly - Freeform, Top Jung Wooyoung (ATEEZ), Bottom Choi San (ATEEZ), Dom Jung Wooyoung (ATEEZ), Sub Choi San (ATEEZ), Crush at First Sight, First Time, Loss of Virginity, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Rimming, Premature Ejaculation, Embarrassment, Shame, Comfort No Hurt, Jung Wooyoung is Whipped (ATEEZ), but secretly, Choi San is Whipped (ATEEZ), Obsession, but not creepy, Masturbation, Nerd Choi San (ATEEZ), party king wooyoung, Slut Jung Wooyoung (ATEEZ), Because he likes to have fun, Choi San-centric (ATEEZ), Cute Choi San (ATEEZ), sexual activities while tipsy, but not drunk, Exhibitionism, Creampie, i think that’s it but I feel like I’m forgetting a lot oh well read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/t8ArRQY

[covenofagatha]

Four times Agatha fails at cockwarming (and one time she doesn't)

The first attempt

Based on this ask that has made me completely feral and taken over my brain in the best way

Word count: 4.1k

Warnings: premature ejaculation, teasing, g!p Agatha, mommy kink, bratty reader, desperate!agatha, super slight temperature play

When you wake up on Saturday morning a bit later than you usually do, you roll over and reach out your fingers, seeking the warmth of your wife’s body. All you find is an empty half of the bed, the sheets already cool. 

You frown. How long has she been awake for? You were really hoping that the two of you could spend some quality time together. 

Agatha’s been stuck grading papers in the evenings lately; it’s almost the end of the semester and all of her students have been rushing to turn in missing assignments before they took the final exam yesterday. 

Meanwhile, you’ve also had to work long hours lately, so you’ve been absolutely exhausted by the time you get home. 

And as a result of this, it’s been almost a week since the two of you have had sex, and you are dying. Almost every night you’ve woken up, a molten heat between your legs and a burning in your stomach, and you’ve been so tempted to roll over and wake your wife up to satiate the hunger, but each time, you see how stress free she looks, the usual lines of worry across her forehead gone, and you decide to go back to sleep. You’d touch yourself if you could, but that’s against your rules and you just know she would wake up at the right moment and catch you.  

But you are determined to get her cock inside you today. You’re going to find her, fuck her wherever in the house she is, and then drag her back to the bedroom for the rest of the day. 

So you get out of bed, brush your teeth, and walk downstairs in nothing but Agatha’s purple flannel, the comfy one that she loves that always seems to end up on your body, especially when sleeping. You expect to find her in the kitchen, maybe making breakfast like she usually does for you on the weekends, but she’s not there. 

You make your way through the living room and imagine sinking down to your knees the second you see her, crawling to her across the floor to unbutton her pants and take her cock in your mouth. Your cunt throbs. 

The door to her study is left ajar and you can hear the soft sound of pen on paper, so you peek your head in to find Agatha sitting at her desk, dressed in a tight, white T-shirt and nicely-fitted black pants, her hair curly and loose and falling over her face, and she has her favorite pair of tortoise-shell reading glasses on. 

Fuck. Your mouth goes dry at the sight. 

She is so focused, scribbling something with her left hand — why is that so hot? — and her brows are slightly furrowed. It’s a stern look of sorts and it goes straight to your pussy. If you were wearing underwear, it would be soaked right now, and instead you can feel your slick on your inner thigh. 

“If you were my teacher,” you say, and she startles before smiling when she sees that it’s just you. “I would be so fucking distracted all the time. I think I’d fail everything on purpose just so I’d need some tutoring. Think I could get some extra credit, Professor Harkness?” Your voice drops to a seductive octave and you see her lips slightly part and her gaze darken. 

“Good morning, baby,” Agatha says and appreciatively checks you out as you slowly walk over to her, swaying your hips to tease her. You walk behind her chair and wrap your arms around her, breathing in the perfume that has become your favorite scent.

You hum and look over her shoulder at what she’s working on. She’s grading an exam and the student did not do well. “How long have you been up? Want to take a break?” you ask, nuzzling your nose against her hair and licking up her earlobe. 

Your wife stiffens beneath you. If it’s been torture for you this week, you can’t even imagine how she’s feeling. You nibble and then kiss down the side of her face before dragging your tongue up her neck. 

Agatha’s hand clenches the pen so hard you think it might snap in half and you smirk to yourself. You’re going to have what you want in no time. There’s another gush of wetness from your pussy and you feel so fucking empty and you’re about to pull her chair back and straddle her—

“Honey,” she says levelly. “I really need to get this work done today. Maybe later?” 

You pull back, absolutely stunned. You can see her erection starting to grow through her pants and you know that she’s affected. “But mommy,” you whine and she tilts her head to look up at you, eyebrow raised. “Please? I need you so bad.” 

For a second, it looks like she might break. You wait with bated breath, arousal skirting through your veins, but she shakes her head. “Sorry, baby. Be a good girl for mommy and wait.” 

“Fine,” you huff and nip at the juncture of her shoulder and neck before walking to the door to the study. “Maybe I’ll just go take care of it myself.”

“Don’t be a brat,” she calls after you, before lowering her voice threateningly. “And don’t even think about touching yourself.” 

You turn at the door to toss a wink at her before going into the kitchen. You won’t break her rule, but you are going to break her. You’re going to get her so wound up that she has no choice but to fuck you. 

You scroll on your phone for about fifteen minutes, which is more than enough time to get Agatha’s suspicions up, and you open a container of vanilla yogurt and spoon it into a bowl before walking back to the office. She looks up when you enter, tension etched on her face, and you know she’s wondering what you’ve been up to. 

But then she takes you in, realizes that you unbuttoned her flannel so now she can see most of your boobs — nipples hidden just barely — and your stomach and your cunt, and her jaw drops. 

“Hey,” you say, not giving anything away, and you make your way back over to her side of the desk to perch on the edge. Her eyes dart all over the place wildly, like she’s trying not to look at your bare chest on display but failing miserably. 

You’re absolutely delighted to see the outline of her cock through the fabric of her pants — either she is still affected by your teasing earlier, which was practically nothing, or she got half-hard just looking at you now. 

Agatha sees you looking and shifts uncomfortably, crossing one leg over the other. “What are you doing?” she asks thickly. 

Getting a glob of yogurt on your spoon, you shrug and raise it to your mouth before lasciviously licking it off, never breaking eye contact. “Eating breakfast.” 

Her eyes narrow through her glasses and your heart starts to pound harder. How is it possible for someone to look this sexy? 

She raises her pen to her mouth and takes the tip between her teeth, just watching you. You do the same thing a few more times, slowly running your tongue up the surface of the spoon, and her right hand grips onto the armrest. The air is charged between you, electricity cackling, and you feel like you are so close to getting what you want. 

You just have to bring it home. 

When you go to take your next spoonful, the silverware catches on the edge of the bowl and knocks it out of your grasp, splattering yogurt all over your bare cleavage. 

Agatha actually gasps and you are so fucking happy that it actually worked. 

“Oops,” you say innocently and swipe through the mess on your skin, collecting some of the yogurt with two fingers before enveloping them into your mouth and sucking. You even let out a moan for dramatic effect. 

It’s obvious that Agatha realizes it was a stunt based on the lethal look in her eyes but that doesn’t make it have any less impact on her. She swallows hard, her cheeks pinking slightly, and she can’t stop looking at your tits. 

You push your fingers a little deeper down into your mouth the next time and you gag slightly and Agatha lets out a whimper. When you glance down at her lap, she has a full erection now and her breathing starts to deepen. She leans back in her chair and her hips rise almost indiscernibly to try and get some friction. 

“Want some help with that, mommy?” you ask and shift back on her desk so you’re able to widen your own legs more and show her the glistening wetness between them. 

Her fingers on the armrest flex and then relax and she bites her lip. It would be so easy to hop down and take out her cock for her — you don’t even think she’d object. 

But you want to make her so desperate that she breaks. 

Agatha’s eyes are dark through her glasses and you can tell that she’s absolutely aching too. You know she’s thinking about all the times she’s cum on your tits with a grunt and made you clean it off, just like that. The only difference between the picture you’re painting now and that one is you’re not on your knees in front of her. 

Although, you’d change that in a heartbeat if she asked. 

There’s a heated moment in which neither of you says anything, before she chews on the inside of her cheek and opens her mouth. “Later, honey,” she rasps, but instead of feeling rejected and frustrated, you feel even more challenged. 

With one last drag of your fingers across your chest to get the rest of the yogurt before cleaning them off in your mouth with a wet pop, you tap your sticky fingers under her chin and get off the desk. “I like the taste of you better,” you decide and laugh as her jaw clenches. 

And then, just because you’re you and you love to tease, you bend down, putting a hand atop hers on the armrest, and press a quick kiss to her cock through her pants and you feel it jump against your lips. Agatha lets out a strangled gasp, sounding like a wounded animal, but you don’t do anything more. 

You can feel her stare burning into you as you leave the study again, mind already spinning with more ways to tease her. 

The next idea comes to you shortly and you quickly run upstairs to shrug off Agatha’s flannel and put on a purple, skimpy, two-piece bathing suit — her favorite one. You stand in front of the floor-length mirror and snap a picture, pushing your arms together slightly so your boobs perk up, and then text it to your wife. 

Think I’ll go for a swim. Care to join me?  

You watch attentively as bubbles pop up on the screen and then go away. She starts typing again, and then stops as well, and it feels like you’re watching her brain short-circuit in real life. She can’t keep her hands off you when you wear this suit and you imagine her palming her dick in her office right now and trying to get any sense of relief that she can. 

Finally, she sends a response. Fuck. 

Short and to the point. You catch a glimpse of your wide grin in the mirror before typing back, That’s the point, mommy. 

You don’t get an answer — you didn’t think you would, but you know that she must be going crazy right now, and you walk downstairs and hope that she calls you into her study. The ache inside you is growing and you’re not sure how much longer you can take. But it’s like you’ve started a battle of the wills between the two of you, and you refuse to give in. 

The sun feels great on your skin as you lay on the lounge chairs in your backyard. You toy with the idea of getting in the pool and then parading around Agatha’s office all wet like that, but decide to do something a little more daring. 

Grabbing your phone, you open the camera and flip it away from you and slide just your fingertips under the elastic waistband and snap a picture. 

This time, you get a text back immediately. Come here right now. 

A thrill runs through you and you quickly run inside and grab something from the freezer, tearing off the wrapper, and going to nonchalantly lean against the doorway of the study, where Agatha is already staring at you, the vein in her head throbbing. 

And she only gets more flustered when you run your tongue up the side of the popsicle you’re now holding. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” she snarls and you smirk before sauntering over to the couch and plopping down on it, putting a leg up over the side so she can see how dark the crotch of your suit bottoms have become. Agatha looks like she might pass out. 

It’s dizzying, to have this much power over her. To be able to reduce her to a feral woman, one whose eyes are completely swallowed up with desire and whose cheeks are flushed. You haven’t even been in the room in about twenty minutes, and you bet she’s still hard, if not harder. 

“Eating a popsicle. Do you want one?” you ask, pure and generous, like it’s common sense that you’re just being her thoughtful, good girl. 

But there’s nothing pure about the way you open your mouth and take the entire popsicle down your throat, bobbing your head up and down for good measure while you give her your best blow-job eyes. You know how absolutely crazy she gets when you look at her like that and right now is no exception — her cheek twitches and she gulps, a slight sheen of sweat breaking out on her face. 

“You need to stop,” she says dangerously. “Mommy needs to get her work done and can’t fucking concentrate because of you.” 

You hollow out your cheeks and suck on the popsicle hard. 

And then it’s your turn to whimper because she pushes out of her chair and stands up and as she’s walking over to you, you can see her cock straining against her pants and you wonder if she’s about to fuck you on the couch. 

Wouldn’t be the first time. 

But she yanks the popsicle out of your mouth by the stick and drags it across your chest, making you hiss at the cold, before she leans down and sucks up the flavoring and ice. 

“You are driving me fucking crazy,” she groans before pulling you off the couch and reaching behind you and untying your top. She tears it off over your head before trailing the popsicle, melting now from your body heat, down to circle your nipple. It hardens and goosebumps erupt all over your chest and it tears a short moan from your mouth. 

And then just like before, her mouth follows, licking the same path around your nipple before sucking it into her mouth and making you keen. Your entire body is engulfed in heat and you press a thigh against her cock, making her shudder. She’s hard, so fucking hard, and you need to feel her inside you. 

“Agatha — mommy, fuck, I need you,” you whine and grab onto her hair but she yanks herself back, her chest rising and falling fast before grabbing your throat. 

Your body stiffens and your brain goes foggy. “Listen to me very closely, babygirl,” she whispers and it just goes to your head and your cunt even more. “You are going to go back upstairs and put on some decent clothes. And then you’re going to come down here and sit your ass on the couch so I can watch you and make sure you’re not getting into any more trouble. And if you can behave—” her eyebrows raise like she doesn’t think you can, “—then maybe, you’ll get a reward.” 

You are fucking soaked and all you can go is nod, but just to get the last word in somehow, you angle your leg just a little more, rubbing against her cock, and she almost buckles, a low groan coming from her mouth. She pulses in her pants and she grunts and her hips jerk forward. 

“Mommy, please,” you beg in desperation, seeing the look on her face. You think she might be even more turned on than you. 

But your wife is resisting for the principle now, and she steps back from you and points to the hallway. You roll your eyes and huff before stomping up and finding the shortest skirt and the smallest white crop-top you own, forgoing a bra entirely and putting on your skimpiest pair of underwear that barely covers anything. If you’re lucky, she’ll get so mad at you for being a brat that she’ll bend you over her leg and spank you. 

You strut back into the study and up to her desk, and the pen in Agatha’s fingers falls onto the table. “Do you call those decent clothes?” she rasps and you shrug teasingly before picking up a pencil and spinning it around your fingers, sending it flying to the middle of the room. 

“Whoops,” you say, and when you turn around to bend down and pick it up, showing Agatha your soaked panties and your pussy lips peeking out around the edges, she takes too sharp of a breath and it sends her into a coughing fit. 

It’s hard not to laugh and you put the pencil down before telling her you’ll be right back and quickly walking to the kitchen to get her a glass of water. You get a second one just for yourself, determined that you’re closer than ever to making her break. 

She’s still coughing a little when you get back to the room and she gratefully accepts the cup you offer to her before gulping down half of the water. Now that you’re standing on her side of the desk, you can still see the prominent bulge in her pants and it makes arousal rush through you. Agatha must have been turned on all fucking day, you’re not sure how she hasn’t given in yet. 

As much as you need your release, you want her to get some even more, so you raise your glass to your lips and tip it too much, sending the entire, overflowed cup of water pouring down your front and onto the floor. 

Agatha swears and jumps back in her chair to avoid getting wet and you immediately drop to your knees, your shirt now clinging to your body and showing your pebbled nipples, almost as hard as your wife’s cock. She makes a muffled noise and when you look up, you realize that she has a perfect vantage point right down your shirt. 

At this point, her hands are claws digging into her thighs and her hips buck involuntarily, and you have a brilliant idea for how to clean up the spilled water. 

You take off your wet shirt, your chest glistening, and Agatha lurches forward uncontrollably, letting out a gasp. You smirk sweetly before mopping up the puddle, looking up at her through your lashes with your bottom lip between your teeth and her jaw clenches. 

Heat is practically radiating off her. 

The floor is now for the most part dry, and you crawl closer on your knees to put your hands on her thighs to push yourself up, “accidentally” brushing the tip of her cock, and her arm shoots out to grab your wrist. 

She looks livid. 

Agatha stands up, yanking you with her, and turns you over to bend you over her desk and she spanks you hard. 

You moan and push back against her cock and she whimpers before leaning over you. “You want to act like a fucking slut? Then you’re going to sit on my cock until I’m done working and if you move an inch, I won’t touch you for a week, got it?” she hisses in your ear, tugging on your hair, and it’s all you can do to nod your head. 

She spins you around, unzips her pants, and reaches inside to pull out her cock and fuck — she’s so stiff that she’s standing up completely straight, her tip twitching and oozing precum, and the veins along her length are prominent and almost purple. 

You want to taste her so fucking bad, but you also just need her inside you. You can feel how wet you are, how wet you’ve been this entire day, and you know it’s going to be absolute torture to cockwarm her. 

Agatha hikes up your skirt and groans when she slides a hand between your legs to feel your underwear and you lick a hot stripe up your palm and fingers with your tongue before reaching down and giving her cock a quick stroke while she starts peel your panties off and — 

“Oh, fuck fuck fuck — no, fuck,” she chants and then lets out a guttural cry as her hips jolt and her cock pulses in your hand and then throbs, and she slumps forward onto you as she cums. 

Her seed spurts out while her body jerks against yours pathetically while she grunts in frustration and rides it out. You are in complete shock that all it took was one touch from you to have her absolutely fall apart like this; maybe your teasing worked a little too well. Her cum is hot as it drips down your hand and down to the base of her cock and the sounds coming from her mouth are downright pornographic. 

You can feel yourself getting even wetter though, the power you have over her coursing through your body and settling right in your cunt, making your head spin with how it feels. She’s never had this happen before, and you’re not sure if it's because of the dry spell or your teasing or both. 

When her cock finally starts to soften in your hand, she steps back and her face is bright red and she’s looking anywhere but your eyes. 

“Mommy, you just—” you start to say in awe, but she drops her head into her hands, her glasses being pushed up on her forehead. 

“Don’t,” she says, but it comes out muffled and she drops down into her chair, still refusing to look at you. 

It’s taking all your ability to not laugh because you know she’s already humiliated enough. Instead, you slowly get to your knees in front of her and, even though she’s not watching, you lick all of her cum off your hand, moaning at the salty taste, and then pushing her legs open so you can get between them. 

She jumps when your tongue darts out to clean the cooling cum off the base of her cock and with one hand still covering her face, the other comes down to rest on your head while you continue gently lapping at her. Her cock twitches every now and then with your mouth on it, and you know she’ll be hard again in no time. 

When you’re done and sit back on your heels, she finally looks at you, her face no longer scarlett. 

“You’re a fucking tease, you know that?” she asks, her voice still a little shaky. 

You smirk. “Do you know how fucking hot that was, mommy? But maybe you should’ve just fucked me the first time I asked, though.” 

Agatha rolls her eyes and stands up, motioning for you to get off the ground. “We’re going to go up to our room and I’m going to make you pay for that.” 

“Pay for what, mommy?” you simper, and you know you’re on thin ice, you know you should stop and pretend like it didn’t happen, but you’re a brat at heart. “You’re the one who used cockwarming as a punishment but couldn’t even get said cock inside me.” 

Your wife fucking growls and grabs you by the arm to pull you out of the study and up the stairs, your giggles following the sounds of her angry footsteps. 

“Maybe next time,” you add wistfully and if looks could kill, you’d be dead with the glare she shoots you over her shoulder. 

You cannot wait to make her do that again. 

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights

[mirandamckenni1]

Does Testosterone Actually Increase Prostate Cancer Risk? A lot of people are wondering if there is a correlation between testosterone to prostate safety--does it actually cause cancer? Watch as Dr. Rena Malik will discuss and reveal the details you might not know. Thanks for watching!! Become a Member to Receive Exclusive Content: https://ift.tt/MyJs9vB Schedule an appointment with me: https://ift.tt/0LPeav1 ▶️Chapters: 00:00 Introduction 00:50 Prostate Cancer 02:02 Background of the study 03:21 Prostate Cancer Grade 03:40 Secondary Outcome 03:58 Biopsy 06:01 Results of the Study 07:24 Conclusion Prostate-Specific Antigen Levels During Testosterone Treatment of Hypogonadal Older Men: Data from a Controlled Trial: https://ift.tt/KLYyPA1 Prostate Safety Events During Testosterone Replacement Therapy in Men With Hypogonadism: A Randomized Clinical Trial https://ift.tt/JQkpaYI Watch the video till the end and let me know your thoughts in the comments. If you like this video, please SUBSCRIBE and don’t forget to press the bell 🔔, like, comment and share. Stay safe and Love all. 😍 Rena Malik, MD is a urologist and pelvic surgeon on youtube to educate people about all things urology including erectile dysfunction, how to increase testosterone, problems with sex, premature ejaculation, urinary leakage, or incontinence, overactive bladder, urinary tract infections, prostate issues and more. ▶️Check out my Amazon storefront (affiliate links included): https://ift.tt/02ZvtCB. ▶️Coupons & Discount codes (affiliate links included): https://ift.tt/mo6W7SU -------------- ▶️Please Subscribe: https://www.youtube.com/@RenaMalikMD/?sub_confirmation=1 ▶️Visit my website: https://ift.tt/xZiHXEw ▶️Listen to the podcast: https://ift.tt/ce7Cs4w --------------- ▶️Follow Me On: • Instagram: https://ift.tt/50aMtEv • Twitter: http://twitter.com/RenaMalikMD • Facebook: https://ift.tt/RliZVSt • Tikok: https://ift.tt/sdF9h5B • LinkedIn: https://ift.tt/BtofdmF • Pinterest: https://ift.tt/RsT9Lkw --------------- ▶️Sign up for my e-mail list and get more content from me: https://ift.tt/SMPkDRg ▶️Get your FREE OAB Guide: https://ift.tt/TcsYGDN --------------- ▶️Check out these playlists: • A Urologist explains what is edging and is it SAFE: https://youtu.be/qN23jUSSdVM • Penis Problems?! Erectile Dysfunction, Premature Ejaculation & More: https://bit.ly/3wwivzS • Overactive Bladder Treatment: https://bit.ly/3hMzBoP • How to Increase Testosterone: https://bit.ly/2T9QJKV • Women’s Sexual Health: https://ift.tt/jYdQ0bP -------------- ▶️DISCLAIMER: This video is purely educational and does not constitute medical advice. The content of this video is my personal opinion and not that of my employer(s). Use of this information is at your own risk. Rena Malik, M.D. will not assume any liability for any direct or indirect losses or damages that may result from the use of the information contained in this video including but not limited to economic loss, injury, illness, or death. -------------- via YouTube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=knQSettOf8c

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

I’ve Seen Sparks Fly — 18+

Summary: Spencer Reid has never felt sparks fly until you came along. He’s not used to not knowing things, but just may prove himself to be a quick learner.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (female, I'm pretty sure there's no references to pronouns)

Word Count: 5685

Content Warnings: Kissing, grinding, premature ejaculation, marking Spencer’s chest, fingering, love confessions

Note: I hope you enjoy this! I really wanted to get another fic out before I start my 1 year anniversary celebration, Love Letters From Spencer. There is still time to submit your name for one. Just fill out this Google Form and you'll receive one in the coming weeks. And a special thank you to @reidsbookclub for helping me with the ending! I love you very much, Grecy! :)

PREVIOUS FIC | MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

I've Seen Sparks Fly

Spencer ventured down in the basement, ready to come back hauling decades old cold cases. What he didn’t expect was to find a chance at that fairytale in a place where the sunshine can’t reach them. There was a single light that hung over their heads and a large desk with papers spread across the surface. For a man that can remember everything, Spencer couldn’t recall any words from your conversation. All he knows is that he stumbled through the conversation.

He hums to himself, trying to quell the nerves that arise all the way from his stomach to the tip of his head. Spencer’s never had much luck with romance. From being the weird kid in the back of the class with a mind decades older than the rest of the class to being the weird kid with something to prove in the FBI, Spencer has never felt like he’s belonged anywhere. The characters in his books kept him company. Spencer spent ages dreaming of the day when someone would float off the pages of the books and into his heart. And now that that was true, his hands shake in a way that he cannot explain. He’s not usually this way, he’s pretty good about keeping his emotions under control. But there’s something about you that makes him the good kind of nervous.

His heart would thump out of his chest, like it did when you fixed his tie. You got so close Spencer swore he could see where the colored part of your eye met your pupil. He could smell your perfume, light and citrusy and he never wanted to smell anything else. You whispered into his ear, even though there wasn’t a need to whisper alone in the basement.

“There,” you said, patting his chest and his now-straightened tie, “Now you look even more handsome,” you add, smiling up at Spencer and positively reveling in the way Spencer’s cheeks flush red.

He has a habit of doing that around you, which he’s surmised is something you enjoy based on your nonverbal body language. Spencer shakes his head, internally chiding himself for analyzing you. He can’t treat you like a face on a wall, not when you’ve got the possibility to mean so much more to him one day. One day very soon, by the way you look at him.

“Handsome?” Spencer says, still fixated on that compliment, despite his near constant inner thoughts spilling over in his mind, “I’m pretty sure the last time someone called me handsome was picture day in the second grade. My mother had me wear my grandfather’s bowtie,” he says.

“You are the handsomest,” you reply, reaching down to grab his hand and squeeze. You walk in tandem and Spencer has to stop himself from skipping, “And you’re going to hear it more often. Maybe a lot tonight?”

Somehow he caught the tone in your voice and it made him stop right in his tracks. You stumble and he catches you by the elbow, apologizing for nearly making you fall. Again, he blushes. And again you seem to like it. You stand on your tiptoes, placing a kiss on his cheek. It’s soft and sweet, yet it burns into his skin and he hopes it lingers even if you don’t.

“Sorry,” Spencer apologizes, “I’m still not used to all this….” he says, the words failing to articulate. Or rather, he fails to say it because if he says it then it’s real. It would be that first good thing he gets, and like most good things they are fated to never last. So Spencer lets you finish his sentences, which, he’ll admit is something he could get used to.

“Affection?” you say, smiling at him and healing the wounds that have yet to fester, “Love. Attention. Compliments. I could go on,” you tease, sneaking under his arm to force him to walk closer with you to the elevator.

“Yes,” he says, nodding as he presses the button to go back to the bullpen, “All of the above, Y/N,” he adds, a layer of uncertainty plaguing his thoughts. You quell it as you twist your fingers in the fabric of his cardigan and rest your head on his shoulder.

“Come over tonight,” you whisper, waiting for the familiar ding of the elevator, “And maybe we can make pancakes in the morning?”

“Pancakes?” Spencer asks, looking at you and trying to decipher your exact meaning. You know he’s not the best with hidden meanings, but maybe you’re also a little nervous too, based on the way you shy away from him and lower your voice again, despite already being alone, “In the morning?” he adds, the meaning finally hitting him.

“Yeah,” you whisper, walking towards the now open elevator with Spencer still holding your hand, “I really like you, Spencer. Like the kind of like you that will turn into love you. Some day. Some day really soon. And I want to spend every waking moment with you. And every moment I’m not awake too,” your rambling abruptly stopped by Spencer’s lips pressing firmly against your’s.

He can tell you’re taken by surprise, but he can’t help but act on his sudden burst of courage. You’ve kissed plenty of times in the 5 dates that you’ve had already and Spencer has found himself reliving every second of it afterwards. From the way your hands press up against his chest to the way you sigh into his lips. He’s been denied this kind of love and affection for so long and he’ll be damned if he lets himself go another 23 years.

Breaking the kiss, Spencer smiles as he rests his head against your forehead. It’s almost like he’s in a movie because the elevator doors shut and they rush upward to the upper level. You giggle, something Spencer promises himself that he’ll commit to memory. He brings his hand to your cheek, shaking slightly despite his new found confidence. You place your hand on top of his hand, brushing gently against the rough side of his hand. It’s these quiet, yet charged moments like this that makes Spencer’s head spin.

“So I’ll take that as a yes,” you joke, smirking as Spencer tries to gather himself together for the inevitable teasing that will ensue when you walk him back to his desk next to Elle and across from Derek.

Spencer had changed his tie three times before the clock read 7. The first one felt like it was choking him, the second one clashed with his shirt, and the third one would just have to do. He even asked Penelope to print out instructions for him to learn how to style his hair in different ways, though he made her swear to never tell Elle or Derek the reason why he needed the print outs. The ink from the paper bled in splotches from the mixture of water and hair gel on his counter. Spencer went to his local drugstore, looking for the specified hair products and came out with an armful of totally unnecessary products.

The gel was sticky in his fingers, but he still slicked it through his hair, remembering how you complimented him on his hair that day. Hotch had sent him and Derek to the basement, when the Bureau’s archivists worked. Only cold cases, suddenly reopened, would bring the team down there. In the three months that Spencer had been working with the BAU, he never ventured into the basements. In his mind, working with old case files and ensuring the protection of evidence seemed like the kind of job someone like him should have. He was still a baby in the team’s eyes, especially Derek’s.

When Derek and him walked down to the very bottom of the building, Spencer had no clue what to expect. His mother always told him that he had a very overactive imagination. He also was a hopeless romantic. Even though he’s never had someone love him back, he’s found himself loving others countless of times. Maybe it’s wishful thinking or a deep seeded desire to live out a fairytale. His fairytale isn’t much; maybe someone to brush his hair from his eyes and kiss away the wounds that bruise his skin and draw stars around his scars.

Spencer goes through the motions and he almost feels like he’s moving underwater. He walks around his tiny apartment making sure his shoes are tied, getting the cardigan that you always compliment him on, and making sure that Joules has cat food in her bowl. He’s hardly even aware of what he’s doing, too busy worrying about what’s in store when he gets to your house.

Spencer, reminding himself to breathe, takes one last look into the mirror on the wall in his hallway. He’s never been one to particularly enjoy his physical appearance, but when he looks in the mirror, the only thought that rests in his mind is if you’ll like the hairstyle he copied in the print out that Penelope gave him.

“Don’t you look handsome,” you say, holding open the screen door to your front porch. Your house is exactly what he’d expect from you. Wildflowers grow haphazardly in your front yard and a small garden peaks from the back yard. Your house is painted in a warm, welcoming yellow with rain gray shutters. It’s the kind of house that people from fairytales live in. It’s the kind of house that Spencer would like to grow old in.

His cheeks burn at the compliment and he resigns himself to a fate of wanting to brush them all away with a bemused expression while craving the sweet little compliments in the same motion. You look at him, smiling from the top of the porch with the screen door resting against your back. So confident and sure, it’s the kind of reckless that should send him running because how on Earth can someone like you love someone like him. No matter how many times you’ve called him cute in the basement of the building, no matter how many times you’ve kissed him across a table at the 24/7 diner, no matter anything he still has a hard time believing you. But he’s more than willing to let you become the first person to prove him wrong.

“Hey, Y/N,” Spencer says, sheepishly as he bounces up the steps to you. You open your arms and stand on your tiptoes, hugging him like you’ve spent months apart. He desperately wants to melt into the hug. Spencer can’t remember the last time he felt safe in someone’s arms since he’s met you.

He’ll be the first to admit that you’re the first person to hug him in years. He never knew just how hard it could be to go without human touch until you came along. It’s almost overwhelming how comforting it is to know that he’ll never have to know that absence again.

“I missed you,” you whisper into his chest, your mouth moving against the soft fabric of his cardigan. You hug him so tight that you clasp your hands around him. Spencer knows that you can’t stay out here on the porch forever, but he wants to, “Sorry,” you apologize, “I’m a big hugger and I know that you’re a little wary about physical contact–”

“Oh no!” Spencer exclaims, letting himself out of your tight hug to look at you. His hands fall naturally into the crook of your elbows, holding you gently he racks his brain for an explanation that doesn’t make him sound as in love with you as he actually is, “I love you…your hugs, I love when you hug me, I mean,”

You smile and with that Spencer swears to himself that the stars in the nighttime sky could never compare. He forces himself to stop thinking about those loving things like that. Spencer swallows his fears, yet he can’t stop thinking about how your hair falls into place like dominos. What must it be like to grow up that beautiful? He’d never know. Spencer’s not used to not knowing things. And even though he may not believe it, he trusts you as you lead him into your house.

The movie has been playing on your television for precisely 34 minutes and 8 seconds. And for 34 minutes and 8 seconds your hands have not left his body. When you first led him up the stairs, Spencer’s eyes nearly burst out of his eye sockets. But like all the times you’ve whisked him away for secret kisses at work or reached for his hand as you passed in the hallway, you quell his fears with your lyrical eyes and a squeeze of his hand. It’s magical and a miracle how you can both steady his heart and nearly cause an aneurysm in one touch. He wonders if that is what love is supposed to be. Dreading your touch because he knows what it brings out in him, but craving it in the same token.

Your hands massage his scalp, and Spencer can feel himself drift off into a comfortable lull. He wonders silently to himself if he’ll ever figure out the kind of shampoo you use. It’s a little citrusy, like oranges and grapefruit. But there’s also a sweetness to it that he can’t quite describe. Whatever it is Spencer wants it to linger on his skin so he can take a part of you home with him to make his bed seem a little less lonely.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice similar to how it was down in the basement that you work in, “But I can’t even tell you the main character’s name and I’ve seen this movie before,” you say, your wry chuckle making you, yet again, unreadable.

“Why?” Spencer asks, turning to face you, your legs are intertwined in the bed, twisted up in bedsheet as the night slips away in a moment in time, “I mean, me too,” he adds, very aware of his hand that rests on your waist. He plays with your soft tee-shirt, a very worn down college shirt from long ago.

“You’re just very distracting,” you say back, brushing a piece of his hair from his face. His glasses slip down the bridge of his nose and you’re half clear and half blurry. Spencer’s not sure if it’s because of his lack of good vision or because you make his head spin with your sweet shampoo and with your body pressed up next to his, “You make me so nervous, Spence. You’re so handsome and I just don’t want to mess this up,” you say, the earnestness in your voice is like looking into a mirror.

“Let me kiss you?” Spencer says, even though it comes out more like a question than a request, “Please,” he adds, implicitly aware of how his voice turns up with nerves and anxiety, “You’re the beautiful one, Y/N,” he adds, moving his face to eclipse your view of the television. You read the unreadable, nodding slightly just in time as your lips meet his.

Spencer has kissed you a total of 44 times. Between five dates, secret make-out sessions in the cover of the Bureau basement, and all the times in the stairwell between his office and your department, it’s safe to say that though you’ve kissed him plenty of times, he’ll never grow tired of it. It’s flawless and Spencer can’t imagine doing it with anyone else.

“You’re the beautiful one, sweetheart,” you whisper, using that little name that has never failed to make his heart skip, “It’s crazy to think you’ve never done this before. You really must be a genius,”

Your lips cover his, gliding over his lips like ice skates on an icy pond. Your fingers are buried in hair, tugging and digging into any piece of him you can grab. You break away from lips, moving down to his jawline. Your fingers tickle his neck and he’s hyper aware of his entire being and what’s bound to happen when your lips are so soft against his skin and your hands tug at his hair.

“Y/N,” Spencer says, your name coming out more strained and needy than he intended, but he has to say it quickly before he loses control and embarrasses himself with his underwhelming lack of restraint, “Please, Y/N. The way that you kiss me. Touch me. It’s driving me crazy. You drive me crazy,”

“I know, baby,” you whisper into his ear maneuvering yourself so you hover over Spencer’s body. His hips instinctively flex up, desperate for the very friction and contact that you deny him, “Look at you? All pretty like this for me. You just need to be taken care of, lovey,”

Lovey

Between your touch that stings like a thousand bees and your voice heals like honey from the gods, Spencer doesn’t know how much longer he can control himself. You must be enjoying seeing him fall apart like this, and Spencer has to admit he loves it too. As long as you’re the one to put him back together, he’ll let you ruin him a million times over and over.

Smiling, you remove your hands from his face, messing up his neatly gelled hair in the process. He makes a mental note that you seem like his hair messier. It’s been years since he’s let his hair just be and you might just be the reason he’ll start again. Your next movement is what catches him off guard. His hands come up to your now bare waist as you rid yourself of your tee shirt. The pads of this fingertips brush over your soft skin. He revels in how your skin goosebumps at his touch, happy to know that his touch has nearly the same effect as you do one him.

“Like what you see?” you ask, smiling like a Chesire cat as Spencer looks at your bare chest. His hands hover over your breasts, unsure if you're even real in the first place, “You can touch me, sweetheart. You can touch me all you want,” you reassure him, bringing his hands to your breast by his wrists.

“Can I kiss you? Can I kiss you there?” Spencer asks, his earnest question making your skin crawl with anticipation. You nod, still hovering over him like some twisted guardian angel.

“Please,” you say, half begging, half demanding, “I’m all yours anyway, lovey,”

Spencer, shifting upwards so his back rests against the pillows, is acutely aware of how hard he is. If anything, he almost wants to commend himself at not coming undone yet. It’s reasonable, considering this is the first time anyone has sat on his lap like this, calling him names he’s only heard in the sweetest of daydreams.

He leans forward so he can kiss your breasts. Initially, you’re taken aback by his sudden burst of confidence. Spencer leaves wet kisses across your skin and his hand, warm and large against your back, steadying you as you shake with hope for what’s to come. But, as Spencer suspects, you still hold the upper hand. Just as he forms a skilled pattern of kisses and nipping at your skin, you grind down onto his hips.

“God, oh, god,” Spencer says, his strangled moans telling he’s finally lost any semblance of control he had, “I’m sorry, Y/N. Damn it,” Spencer curses, covering his face with his hands in humiliation. The embarrassed part of himself expects you to leap from his lap with a sinister laughter. But when that doesn’t come, Spencer peaks out from under his hands.

“What are you apologizing for?” you ask, still hovering over his body with a confused expression on your face, “Is it because you came? Hmm? Just from kissing my boobs? And me grinding on your dick?” you continue, licking your lips as Spencer nods his head in continued embarrassment.

You grip his wrists, kissing his hands fervently. Looking at him, Spencer is able to read your expression. You aren’t annoyed or disgusted or anything of the sort. Instead, you lean down, still putting pressure between your hips, and kiss his face. Your lips skim over his eyes, kissing his nose, his cheeks, his forehead and down to his neck. You break, breathing in heavily, leaning against his forehead to drink him in.

“Don’t ever apologize for that, lovey. It was hot,” you tell him, and Spencer can do nothing but nod in understanding.

“Yes,” he says, smiling as he finds himself growing more and more comfortable with you, “Can I try with you?” Spencer asks, a layer of confidence poking through his shy exterior.

“Of course,” you tell him, “But first let me do something,” you say, as you toss off his cardigan and unbutton his shirt, “You have too many layers on,”

Spencer chuckles in agreement, not fully realizing how hot it’s gotten in your bedroom. The television still plays in the background, but it’s nothing but warbled gibberish. Spencer places his hands against your waist again, but the hesitation to touch you still lingers. He watches as you undo his buttons, terrified for you to see him without a shirt on for the first time. Spencer doesn’t like thinking about the time he’s been shirtless in front of people.

He expects you to look at him with a hint of disappointment, but you don’t. Your finger traces against his skin, making him shiver with anticipation. You smile and whisper words of praise that he can’t quite make out when your lips dip down to his neck.

“I know I’m not much,” Spencer says, the nerves making his voice seem even more scared than he is. He’s never thought of himself as attractive or worthy of love. Spencer supposes that if you go through your entire life without any romance you lose that ability to see yourself worthy of it in the first place. But then again, all he can think of at the moment isn’t all the what ifs and things he’s missed out one. All he can think of is you, looking at him if what he believes are the rosiest colored glasses.

“Don’t say that, lovey,” you whisper, leading your lips dangerously close to his chest. You kiss him, murmuring against his skin, “you’re not allowed to talk bad about the person I love,” you say, continuing to leave marks on his skin. He bites his lip, unsure if you want to hear how much you affect him. A mixture of fear and arousal and temptation courses through his veins.

“Love?” Spencer repeats, the question lingering in the air, “you love me? You love me back?” he says it again like he can’t believe it, but needs to hear it.

“Of course, Spencer. Of course I love you,” you say, whispering against his skin. You continue to leave marks that will bruise my morning. He looks up, watching you with a blissed out look that makes him seem like he’s floaty high above the clouds, “I love you so much,” you whisper, sitting back up against his hips.

“I love you,” Spencer whispers, he’s quiet in the stillness of your room

Spencer looks down at his chest, licking his lips as he sees the plethora of marks you’ve left on his skin. Several bright red marks lay on his upper chest in the shape of a heart. He groans at the realization, which in turn makes you laugh. It’s a sound that delights him.

“See, now you’ll have something to remind you that you belong to him,” you tell him, sitting back on your heels as you help him out of the confines of his pants.

“Please, Y/N,” Spencer says, and though the words aren’t able to articulate immediately, he has a sneaking suspicion that you know what he wants, “I want to make you feel good too,” he requests, his eyes glazed with love and hazy with need.

“Do you?” you chide, “Do you want to feel how good you make me feel?”

“Please,” Spencer begs, whining as you crawl off his legs so he can shimmy out of his pants. You giggle at his eagerness and kiss his cheek. The innocent gesture makes him burn red, something that you’d probably call charming or endearing.

Sitting in his underwear, Spencer watches as you rid yourself of your sweatpants. He’s never seen a anyone naked before and he's not so secretly thankful for his memory. He wishes it was like a movie though, that he’d be able to replay this moment over and ever. Anytime he was sad or lonely he’d be able to listen to your voice calling him sweet names and feel your touch comforting him.

Your lamp sits to his right and the warm, yellow light gives you an incandescent glow. He wants to reach out and touch every curve, every wrinkle and line on your skin. He wants to feel all of you in the places you’re soft and the places you hide from the rest of the world. He wonders to himself if this is what it’s like to meet your soulmate. His heart feels full for the first time, he feels completed.

“You can touch me, Spence,” you whisper, crawling towards him so you sit next to him with your legs and his legs in opposite directions, “I’m all yours, anyway, my love,”

Spencer nods, untrusting of his voice at the moment to reveal all the sweet, yet sinful things he wants to do to you. He feels it in his head, the rush of possibility coupled by the anxiety of desire. It’s like he can feel the sparks fly between the two of you.

“I–I want you to enjoy it,” Spencer whispers, “I just, I’m a virgin. I guess you probably could have guessed that by now,” he muses, “I’m not sure if you’ll still want me,”

You look at him with a broken smile and all the stars in your eyes, “Spencer,” you say his name with this breathless tone that’s already stolen his heart, “We don’t have to go that far, lovey. We have so much time. I’m not letting you go anytime soon. Is there anything you want to do? Hmm, you can tell me, sweetie. I’m not going to judge you?”

His lips feel dry and the words threaten to die in his throat, but there’s also an almost overwhelming amount of love that overtakes him. You kiss his hands, bringing them up to your lips.

“Can I touch you?” Spencer asks, “I just want you to feel good too?” he says, his cheeks flushing at the thought of seeing you come undone at his hands.

“You want to finger me?” you clarify, the crudeness of your words making his entire chest burn crismon. The heart made of hickeys that adorns his chest turns a deeper red and Spencer’s skin feels like it’s going to melt off his body, “With these hands? How could I refuse an offer like that?,” you tell him.

“Please, baby,” Spencer says, the name slipping from his lips before he gets the chance to stop himself. You must like it because you give him a quick kiss on his hands before bringing them to the waistband of your underwear.

“Trust your instincts,” you tell him, offering a word of wisdom, “I love you so much, Spencer that whatever you do it’s probably going to get me off,” you say, your words making Spencer groan with desire.

He brushes his index finger against the fabric of your underwear. Spencer can feel them dampen at his stimulation. He looks at you for advice, but finds you closing your eyes and biting your lip at his touch. Spencer, timid, yet eager, dips his hand through your waistband. He drags your underwear off your legs and gets a boost of confidence when he watches you kick them the rest of the way off.

You mirror his movements as you nibble on his lip, slipping your hand into his underwear as you graze your fingers over his leaking cock. Spencer groans into your shoulder, cursing at the feel of your hands on him. He watches intently as your wrist moves up and down, closing his eyes like he’s hearing a prayer.

“God, you are so hot like this, Spencer. Come on, my sweet boy,” you coo, “I’m not made of glass. I love you so much,” you remind him, kissing along the sensitive markings you made. He groans, hands fisting at the sheets.

He nods, bringing his index finger to your clit grazing against the spot that he knows is a bundle of nerves. It’s not nearly enough, but he knows that. He dips his finger into your folds, feeling himself grow hard again from hearing you whimper from pleasure. Spencer isn’t sure where to look. It’s mesmerizing to watch his finger disappear inside you, but in the same token, you look so beautiful he doesn’t want to miss the way your face contorts with pleasure.

“Oh my god,” you pant, tugging on his hair with one hand. His glasses are askew at his point and his hair is sweaty, but he hardly notices it, “Holy fuck, Spencer,” you curse, as he introduces another finger, making your gasp out loud.

“You are so beautiful,” Spencer says, watching you as he continues to pump in and out with his two fingers. The base of his hand grazes against your clit with the tiniest bit of pressure, “So beautiful,” he says again, twisting himself to kiss you.

“Do you feel how wet you make me?” you whisper, “That’s all you, baby. It’s only for you,” you tell him, your lips meeting him as he continues to finger you, “God, I’m so close,” you pant.

You break from his hair, reaching down to cup his face with pure adoration and love coursing through you. Spencer deepens the kiss, wanting to be closer than is humanly possible. He feels your hands tighten against his face, telling him that you’re nearing your climax. He takes his time, finally finding a rhythm that nearly makes your scream. His thumb rubs circles against your clit, drawing you closer and closer to the edge. He can’t help but grind against your leg, feeling himself approach his own release.

“That’s it,” you tell him, encouraging him to continue, “Oh fuck. Spencer,” you cry out, peppering kisses over his face, blinding him with love and affection. He feels you tighten against his fingers and his eyes are glued to your face. Spencer’s eyes scan over your features. The way sweat collects against your brow, the way you flutter against his finger, and the way your moans ricochete in his mind. He tries to soak it all in. You come against his hand with his fingers still working for you to meet your climax.

It’s almost too much for him and he can’t hardly wrap his mind around what it will be like to actually have sex with you. He feels his cheeks flush at the very thought still. You rest your forehead against his bare chest, heaving with exhaustion. Spencer, reluctantly removes his fingers that are covered in your release. He brings them to his mouth, tasting you on his tongue. You catch it from the corner of your eye, moaning at that sight.

Spencer, unsure what to say, besides an I love you, laughs. He rests his head against the pillows and brings his hands to hover over your back. You lean into him, Spencer kisses whatever exposed skin he can. You’re hot against his lips like molten fire, but somehow you quench his thirst.

“I really do love you,” Spencer says, letting the words hang in the air. His mouth feels dry and it’s like his entire body is on fire, “thank you for being patient with me though, “ I’m sorry I didn’t want to go all the way,” Spencer says, wrapping his arms around your waist and squeezing.

He whispers the tiniest “I love yous” into your skin with kisses. You sit up on your elbows, staring at him. He can see the color of your eyes, thinking to himself that he wants to take you to the nearest paint store to figure out what color they are. Because when he does he’ll paint the entire city that beautiful color.

“Lovey,” you whisper, kissing the bridge of his nose, “I loved what we did today. I’m gonna love you for a lifetime. And then some. Spencer, we have—”

“Forever,” Spencer says, cutting you off and making you smile yet again.

“Forever,” you repeat, leaning your head up to kiss along his jawline, “But you have nothing to worry about, Spencer. God, I don’t think anyone’s gotten me off that fast,” you say a new tremble in your voice, making Spencer smirk with confidence, “Where have you been hiding these from me?” you ask, grabbing his hands, smiling at him with a look that he could only describe as madly in love.

“So I’m ‘God’ now,” Spencer remarks, tracing against your spine as both your heart rates come back to normal, “I’ll take it, even if I prefer lovey or sweetheart,” he teases, twisting his neck to see your bemused expression.

You peck his lips, unable to resist him when he’s so comfortably relaxed like this, “Oh shut up,” you chide, “You’re such a dork,”

“Yeah, but I’m your dork, darling,” Spencer retorts, finally fixing his glasses that are perpetually crooked. His hair is matted against his forehead and his underwear is beyond ruined, “I really hate to end this moment, but I’d really like to shower,” he asks, the nervousness back as quick as it left, “I don’t want to be a bother,”

You roll your eyes, swinging your legs over the bed as your stand. Spencer can’t help but pride himself on your lack of initial balance. He follows your lead, swinging his legs as he stands.

“As long as you’ll hold me when we get out of the shower,” you request, the implications hitting Spencer like a ton of bricks, “And maybe I’ll let you use my shampoo,”

Spencer, sitting on the bed, watches you head into the bathroom before him. It’s adjoining your bedroom and is painted a whimsical green. He can see framed embroidery decorating the wall and glass jars of sweet smelling flowers. He hears you laugh in the distance and finally thinks that he may just have found his home. Your smile, the shy one in the basement, the coy one you gave him in the elevator when he kissed you, the smirk that plays on your lips when you tease him , the deliriously happy one that he knows you wear now, every one of them replays in his head. Whenever you smile, it seems, Spencer can’t help but smile too.

THANK YOU FOR READING!! Tell me what you think here!

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