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fushiguho · 1 month ago

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You Have a New Match ☆ Toji Fushiguro

☆ SYNOPSIS After several, agonizing weeks of your relentless torment, Toji has finally had it with your teasing antics. As ambiguous as dating apps can be, he wants to ensure that his intentions are very clear — he’s only here for one thing, to fuck. So why are you wasting his time? What are you, scared? ☆ WORD COUNT 6.6k (holy fuck) ☆ CONTENT WARNINGS Dilf!Toji, femme reader, rough-ish sex, kinda feral, strangers to lovers, Toji has a FILTHY mouth ☆ A/N okay guys so this is actually kind of insane and i do apologize for my absence to those who care LOL (boooo school and life.) but this was actually an anon request for dilf toji but i thought i’d take it in different direction?? this is honestly a personal best for me so i really hope whoever is reading this feels something :p also, thank u for 1k follows. means the world! :)

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･

Toji swears, it’s always the same song and dance with you younger women, yet time and time again he’ll find himself enwrapped in a meaningless dalliance. Currently, that’s you, and you’ve been driving him up a fucking wall. For weeks, you’ll sweet talk him, go on and on about how deep you can take it, how wet your pretty pussy gets just from texting him, even how nasty you’ll get for him when you see him, but it’s always when. That’s the very thing, you’re all talk.

They say patience is a virtue, yet his runs thinner than cheap thread. Toji has never been known for bullshit, and after becoming a father, that fact has never been truer. For most, bringing children into this godforsaken world serves as means for betterment — change, but Toji isn’t like most. Oh, and he’s tried to be respectful about it too, but how can you ever expect him to be a gentleman when you act like… that.

Ever since you matched on Tinder, it’s been several, agonizing months of slutty messages and lewd pictures. God, and what a filthy mouth you have, detailing all the sick ways you’d let him use you, how you’d take it all like a good, obedient slut, how you’d do anything he wants. Yet, when he video calls you in response, huffing your name as the monstrous length of his cock glides through his slick fingers, you realize that maybe you’re not as grown as you thought.

So, you pull away, ghosting him, leaving behind nothing but the silence of uncertainty — purgatory. Whenever you inevitably decide to message him again, whether it be days or weeks later, it’s the same bullshit excuse every time, and quite frankly, Toji has had it. Of course you read his profile when you matched. He made his intentions very clear — that he’s only here for one thing, so why are you wasting his time? What are you, scared?

Toji F.

05:39 PM You scared? Is that it? 05:42 PM Scared of what this cock will do to you? What it could turn you into? Is that why you keep disappearing on me? 05:42 PM You’re breaking my heart here, girl.

Read at 5:43 PM

The audacity. Taken aback is an understatement, yet his message makes your stomach sink in arousal. You can hardly help the dramatic roll of your eyes, an incredulous scoff following as you stuff your phone back into the pocket of your jeans. As you trudge toward your last class of the day, his messages linger on your mind, igniting a flame of refutation that begs to be doused, because you? Scared? Please.

Boredom is a strange thing. It tends to bring out the worst, turning people into versions of themselves they weren’t sure could ever exist within the same universe — versions of themselves that defy the being they’ve worked tirelessly to become. But when there’s nothing left to do, nowhere else to turn, and everything else has been exhausted, we result to desperation; desperate times call for desperate measures.

Tinder.

If university has taught you anything, it’s that men don’t mature overnight… or ever. Even being four, entire years into your overpriced degree, it’s evident that maturity doesn’t exist within the minds of frat hopping, beer chugging, striped polo wearing college boys. You crave more. You crave experience and wisdom, but at the end of the day, you’re still just bored and in desperate need of something that’ll abide your time in university — Toji Fushiguro.

So really, is there truly anything wrong with downloading a dating app with the sole intention of fucking? Is it so wrong to toggle your age preference a little too high? Your preferred mile radius a little too far? You’re not sure, not really. All you know is that there is a point to be proven and a void to be filled, and maybe Toji isn’t the answer you should be seeking, but he damn sure is the easiest and most willing recourse.

That’s the exact reason you’re finally messaging him back, inviting him over to your apartment to chill. It’s nearly embarrassing how fast he responds. An obscure, upside down, smiling emoji at the end of his text masks his ever-growing anticipation with cordiality, though it’s a stark contrast to the way he’ll have you pried apart later on, fucking you rudely with the sole intention gutting you out completely, but you’ll find out soon enough. Curiosity kills cats anyways.

As the day grows on, your excitement grows beyond you. The rapid tap of your anxious feet strike against the tiled floor of the lecture hall, reverberating throughout the frigid, drab room. An exasperated sigh drags from your pouting lips, chin resting within the palm of your hand. Back and forth your eyes flit from the digital clock abut the wall to your monotone professor who paces through the aisles, blathering on about environmental law.

You can hardly help the way you’re beginning to eagerly gather your belongings, slinging your backpack over one shoulder before discretely slipping out of the room, scurrying home with a girlish grin long before class is said and done. Immediately, you’re fishing for your phone, informing Toji that you’re finally free and again, his response is embarrassingly quick. He’s on his way.

It feels like an eternity and you’re impatient. Your stomach lurches in excitement as you sit cross legged on the couch. The large television before you hums monotonously, a show you’ve never cared for flitting across the crystal display, but then, there’s a knock — three, hard, heavy-handed knocks. Your feet are moving faster than your brain can register, nearly tripping over your own feet on your way to the door. As you’re reaching for the knob, it feels like you can’t breathe — like you forgot how to breathe, but that doesn’t stop the hand that’s slowly creaking the heavy, wooden door open just enough to peek your head out and then up, up, up.

“Oh.” You breathe, huffing a breath you weren’t aware you held, your curious gaze shamelessly devouring the burly, heavy-set figure that fills your doorway. “Hi, Toji.” The door creeps wider as you step aside, granting him access into your home.

“Hi, pretty.” His gruff, baritone voice reverberates throughout your entire being, sending a cruel, unintentional rush of heat between your clamped thighs. A mischievous smile pries his scarred lips open, his sharp, sable eyes curiously falling to the cleavage that spills from your low-cut top.

Toji straggles behind as you pad through the archway leading to your small kitchen. He slips out of his shoes, wordlessly admiring your girlishly ornamented apartment, cock nearly throbbing from the overwhelming scent of you — so cloying and honeyed and edible. God, he’d only be lying if he said he hasn’t imagine what you’d taste like, fucking his fist like feral caveman to the pretty pictures on your Tinder profile.

“Uh, you hungry?” You observe your barren fridge, lips twisting in thought. “I have leftovers from last night.” You peer over your shoulder, watching as he observes your carefully thought out space.

He shakes his head in response, a slow, crooked smirk playing his slick lips. Slowly, he’s leaning back, legs crossing idly in front of him as his large hands reach backwards to prop himself against the cold, marble island that sits in the middle of the kitchen. He eyes you silently, watching intently as you stumble throughout your kitchen, fixing him a complimentary glass of iced water. You can hardly meet his intense gaze as you present him with the tall, overfilled glass, far too nervous to truly observe the way he practically devours you with his prey-like stare.

“What?” You finally croak, a nervous laugh tumbling past your lips. You’re stepping away to crane your head back, reluctantly registering the overwhelming sight before you.

Toji shrugs wordlessly before taking a long, ponderous sip from his condensating glass. He swallows thickly, adam’s apple bobbing before humming melodically, pondering in thought. His seemingly cruel gaze never leaves yours, even as you’re slowly backing away to lean against the opposing counter, subconsciously mirroring his stance as you prop yourself on the palms of your hands.

“You nervous or somethin’?” Toji smiles wide, cocking his head to the right. An intense set of dark eyes pierce yours, reading directly through your timid expression. Contrary to your fidgeting fingers, you shake your head in refutation as you peer down at your feet in a desperate attempt to avoid his relentless gaze.

Liar.

“No? Why are you so far then?” He observes, taking another sip from his dwindling glass before setting it against the marble. You hardly notice the way he shuffles closer, slyly inching toward your side of the kitchen. “After all that shit you talked, I was sure you’d be all over me… what changed, pretty?” Now, he stands hair's breadth away, looking down on you as if you’re prey to be devoured.

“Nothing.” You mutter, still averting your gaze. It’s hardly a whisper.

The slow, subconscious clamp of your thighs as you fruitlessly attempt to dull the throb of your poor, aching pussy doesn’t go unnoticed. In fact, a burly knee is subtly creeping between your legs, deliberately forcing them back apart. There’s nowhere to run — nowhere to cower and writhe in fear or embarrassment; he’s got you exactly where he wants you.

You’re completely caged in, stretching to the tips of your toes in escape, but oh, sweet gravity — it’s pulling you down, down, down, driving your clothed cunt against the stiff muscles of his thigh. You gasp, hardly able to chase the breaths that tumble past your lips. Still, you can’t bear the thought of facing him, not after all that shit you talked, not even as you grind yourself against his thigh.

Toji pouts feignedly. “C’monnn, you won’t even look at me?” A large hand is cupping your chin, gingerly forcing your gaze onto his. “This can’t be the same girl who promised she’d let me slut her out… right?” His warm breath fans your parted lips, a fat thumb blindly grazing the lower half of your face. “No, you can’t possibly be the same girl who sent me a video of her noisy, little pussy cryin’ fa’me either… right?”

You’ve never felt so… small. The way your stomach sinks in arousal nearly forces a helpless whine past your lips. It almost feels like you’re in trouble, like you’ve done something horribly wrong and now, you await your inescapable punishment, yet your core aches at the very thought — it burns with an inextinguishable desire to be filled, to be punished.

As a father, Toji can’t help but to default back to his intrinsic lust for control, to assume authority. So really, can you blame him when he’s wordlessly pulling you up the counter you lean against? Two, strong hands finding purchase on your hips, yanking you closer to the edge of the frigid marble. He definitely doesn’t miss the way your legs practically fall open for him, naturally spreading to accommodate the girth of his hips as he creeps closer.

A slow and beautifully sinful grin is marring his face. “Are you a woman of your word?” It’s a low, gravelly hum, one that has you nodding desperately, lips parting sweetly. His head cocks to the right in query. “Yeah? So you’re gonna let me slut that pretty pussy out like you promised, hm?” A singular hand pushing your thighs further apart so that he can insert himself between them to which you audibly moan, nodding once again.

“I am a woman of my word,” you breathe, falling back to catch yourself on your hands as a newfound sense of confidence brews within you, “I meant it, you can have me however you want… please.”

“Do you even know what you’re asking for?” He subtly warns, slipping a large, intentional hand between your searing bodies. “Can you handle that?” Several, warm fingers are trailing against the fabric that hugs your cunt, eliciting a beautiful string of wanton moans from your pretty, parted lips — moans that make his cock twitch to life, eager to ruin you.

“Mhmmm, yes… yes,” you’re nodding, gasping out for more, head rolling deliriously from side to side as his fingers press firmly against your clothed cunt, “I can take anything, I swear! I’ll be s-so good.”

The subconscious roll of your body against the stocky hand that cups your pussy is pathetic; it’s dragging endless hums of pleasure and little gasps of air from your stupidly gaped mouth. You’re insatiable as you buck your hips, desperate to get more out of his teasing fingers, yet still, it isn’t enough. So truly, can Toji blame you for the way you’re beaming forward to catch his lips in a sloppy, haphazard kiss?

No, he can’t, because the way he kisses you back is nothing short of animalistic. It’s the way your teeth nearly clash; the way his fingers are threading through the hair at the back of your head, tugging you back to hold you still, kissing you exactly how he wants; even the way he’s huffing out hot, raptured breaths against your lips as if he can’t breathe, as if you’re the last, fleeting breath of air, nursing him back to life.

Your hands are everywhere. They’re wrapping around his slutty waist, pulling him closer; creeping up the hem of his shirt, into the waistband of his sweatpants, and over the unmistakable bulge of his warm cock again, and again, and again. It throbs against the palm of your hand, wordlessly begging to be heard, to be seen, to be touched.

“Take it out.” He breathes, stepping away just far enough for you to untie the drawstring. In a fruitless attempt to hide your grin of excitement, you bite your lip, wholeheartedly obliging as you fiddle to undo the tightly knotted bow that hides his most sacred possession. “Yeaaaah, take that cock out, sweetheart. Look at you… you’re excited for it, huh?” He laughs at your fervid eagerness — a sharp gust of air through his nose.

As you’re tugging down both waistbands, a deep, guttural groan of relief is belting from the depths of his chest; he inhales a sharp breath through gritted teeth. His cock springs free, bouncing to kiss his lower abdomen in a smeared mess of arousal. Your mouth gapes as rivulets of precum spill down the length of his cock, lewdly pooling near his fat, swollen balls.

God, it’s pretty. It stands so proud and tall, longing to be seen — to be known. It literally weeps tears of desperation, begging for something, anything. How long has it been? Is he just as deprived? Your head burns with questions that yearn to be answered, but you’re determined.

Out of intrinsic instinct, you’re wrapping a hand around the base of his cock as if it’d explode if not dealt with immediately. Never in your life have you held something so… heavy. It’s warm and dense and wet. God, why is he so wet? Why is his precum slobbering down your fingers as you begin to pump him in your hand? Why does such a cruel, deafening schlop! ring out each time you drag your fist toward the leaking head? Why is it making you wet?

As if he can read your mind, Toji coos. “You like it, huh?” He’s amused, a smug grin plaguing his face. “You hungry, pretty? You wanna taste it?” Even the subtle lilt of enthusiasm that soothes his teasing tone makes your mouth sag in a whimper so you nod, of course. “You’ll just say yes to anything, won’t you?”

Duh.

Again, you nod dumbly before eagerly slipping off of the counter and falling to your knees with a thud! Like the good girl you promised you are, you’re lolling out your tongue to drool onto the tip of his cock without hesitation. A longgg, throaty moan drags from Toji’s gaped mouth when you gently tap the drooling head against the plush center of your tongue.

“Fuuuck yes, sweetheart. I knew just from your pictures that you’d be a nasty girl,” his hips are intentionally bucking toward your face, rudely forcing his cock deeper, “and you’re so obedient too… fell to your knees for my cock and you hardly know me.”

A cruel, wet gurgle spills from your mouth as you attempt to swallow around him. He fills your mouth perfectly, like the missing piece to a forgotten puzzle. You wail a muffled, helpless whine, jaw aching from the sheer weight of his cock as it rests against your eager tongue. His swollen balls throb painfully as he tucks himself deeper, forcing a proper gag from pretty lips.

The short, sable tufts of hair that adorn the thick base of his cock tickle your chin. A large hand holds your head taut, keeping you close as he presses the swollen fat of his balls against your trembling bottom lip. Your eyes well with tears as you gag again, throat tightening around the head of his cock when it prods your uvula. The achey, protruding vein that runs along the underside of his shaft throbs against your tongue as you gasp for air.

“Thaaaaat’s it. Hah — oh my god, are you drooling?” Two, deft fingers are swiping along your chin, collecting the saliva that dribbles down your face. “You are so fucking pretty with my cock in your mouth… you gonna let me fuck it just a little?” The crooked smile that mars his face is sick, but it makes your stomach cave in arousal.

Toji doesn’t wait for a response as he’s reeling his hips back, two heavy hands steady on the back of your head, holding you in place. You gasp for a desperate breath before he pummels forward, tucking himself as deep as possible. He’s slow to pull out of your mouth, his thick cock leisurely grazing along every inch of your tongue. A timbre, wanton groan of pleasure drags from his slacked jaw.

“Suuuch a p— perfect throat for cock, holy fuck,” his hips are drawing back again, cock throbbing painfully when you cease the opportunity to gasp for air, “breeeathe, sweetheart… don’t you die on me. I’m not done with you yet, c’mere.” He’s abruptly yanking you to your feet, surely taking notice of the way your knees buckle beneath you.

He’s taking you by the wrist, leading you throughout your apartment as if it’s his own — as if he’s been here before. You follow him like a lost puppy, biting your inner cheek in anticipation as you trail behind him, warm arousal pooling between your thighs. It doesn’t take long for him to find your comfortable, eclectically garnished bedroom.

A large, curious hand is creaking the ajar door wider. He simpers to himself, inhaling the sweet, gourmand scent of everything you. Toji scoffs in what you can only hope astonishment as he peaks his head inside of the warm, dimly lit room. You follow his equivocal gaze, reimagining your sacred space from his fresh, much elder perspective.

“I wish my son would keep his room this neat,” he laughs and you follow him inside, watching as he curiously prowls your girlish room, "couldn't even pay him to wash his shit-stained boxers." A unique collection of trinkets entraps his gaze.

Son?

"Oh," you're taking a seat at the foot of your bed, wordlessly observing the grown, burly man that paces your carpeted room of light pink hues — a man who has to squat to even hear your sweet voice as you speak, "what's his name?"

Annoyed, Toji shakes his head, sucking his teeth. "Doesn't matter," he stalks closer, a subtle gleam of lust dancing across his gradually darkening irises, “I just wanna see how wet that pussy got from tasting my cock… you gonna show me, pretty?” The devilish, scarred smirk that pries his mouth open makes your sobbing pussy throb.

He kneels onto the edge of the mattress and you scoot further onto the bed; the soft, baby pink sheets ruffling as you eagerly peel your lounge shorts down your legs, kicking them to the floor. As you lie on your back, you rest on your forearms, bent legs falling open so sluttily for a man you hardly know. A dark, ever-growing patch of arousal soils your pretty, laced panties. The dim, twinkling lights that hang over your bed reveal such an embarrassingly wet mess — the sheer, drooling material that clings to your swollen lips for dear life, begging to be touched.

“Oh, fuck,” he audibly gasps, inching closer to the palpable heat that radiates between your legs, “yeeeeeah, show me that sloppy, little pussy, baby… holy fuck.” You can hear the sheer degree of arousal in his tone — the way he can’t help but to moan out his words; so overcome by his innate need to fuck that it exudes in the way he pronounces his vowels and consonants.

And then, he’s speechless, utterly enthralled by the several, glistening gossamers of arousal that stretch and snap erotically as you pull the damp fabric down your thighs. You’re obediently sprawled apart for him, pretty, slobbering cunt spread so sinfully for a mere stranger. His cock aches at the sight, jerking lewdly in tandem with the visible tightening of your leaking hole.

Three, longgg digits are dragging up the expanse of your cunt, collecting your prolific arousal. He’s smearing it between your swollen lips, across your quivering clit, then deep inside of your greedy pussy. Over and over and over again, his burly knuckles disappear into your endless slick, the pads of his fingers dragging so sinfully along your tensing walls.

“Such a pretty pussy… oh my god, listen to her,” his hoarse groan is so plainly conquered by his lust, he nearly moans as his jaw hangs in astonishment, sable brows furrowing deeply, “listen to how wet she is. Such a noisy girl, huh?”

And oh god, do you listen. A cruel, deafening squelch! cries from between your plush thighs each time his fingers disappear into your cunt. A familiar, palpable heat is creeping up your neck, spilling across your flustered face in a deep, crimson hue. Embarrassed by your bountiful arousal, your legs are flying shut, halting the hand that teases you. Almost immediately, Toji is wordlessly prying your thighs apart, pinning them to the sheets with a disapproving grunt.

Toji doesn’t miss the slack of your jaw or the sweet, little whimpers that fall so shamelessly from your raptured tongue. He can hardly help the way he’s subconsciously mimicking your expressions — his lips parting in tandem with yours, thick brows furrowing subtly, just as yours do, he’s even cooing in response to your pathetic whines and gasps of ever-growing pleasure.

Like a flower growing toward the warmth of the sun, you’re coiling into his touch, back arching up and off of the unkempt sheets. Your head deliriously falls back to press against the pillow. The repetitive batter of his thick, beckoning fingers is the only thing you can hear, feel, think. Your hips buck so nastily against the hand that paws at you, pretty little sighs and hums of pleasure dragging from your stupidly gaped mouth.

“I just know you wanna fuck, look at your back arch for my cock like that… such a hungry girl,” a big hand is creeping beneath the small of your back, helping you maintain that beautiful, fleeting arch and he inches closer, eyes narrowing so that he can read directly through your greedy expression, “yeah, look at that pretty face… you wanna fuck, huh?”

You can hardly nod before he’s whorishly pulling his cock out, a hiss of relief escaping his gritted teeth. Pearlescent beads of precum drool from the head as he stalks closer, a lazy, idle fist pumping his length. A singular hand is prying you open, burly fingers digging into the plush, underside of your thigh, rudely spreading you apart, and then, cries a lewd, deafening plap!

Not once, twice, but three fucking times, Toji spits into your quivering cunt; three, fat globs of saliva pool into one, sinful puddle, erotically dribbling down the expanse of your swollen lips, toward your endlessly drooling hole, then it creeps even lower, spilling between the slit of your ass, kissing the puckering hole that sits just below.

“Touch her,” he breathes, a hand reaches for yours, pulling it over the mess of slick that coats your pussy, “fuck my spit into your cunt so I can make you feel good, baby. Get her ready for me, c’mon,” he watches with a low, hooded eyes as you collect the mound of saliva on your clit, swirling the pads of your fingers around it before sinking them inside with a pretty gasp, “yeaaahhh, that’s a good girl, spread that slutty pussy open for me.”

As you spread yourself apart with your fingers, Toji is prodding his fat, mushroom head against your clit and it’s dragging the sweetest cries from your parted lips. He’s moving your fingers out of the way with his cock, smearing the precum that weeps endlessly, hips bucking ever so slightly to fuck against the slick that laminates your pretty pussy.

The pad of his thumb is guiding the head of his cock inside of you, a synchronous, drawn out moan echoing from your gaped mouths as he sinks deeper and deeper and deeper. The gradual widening of your eyes is drawing a dark, breathy chuckle from the pit of his sternum. You’re fighting the gnawing urge to run, to wriggle out of his grip and cower in fear, but you can’t fucking move.

“Oh, fuck, fuck… oh my god.” You feel helpless as you whimper, wanting so desperately to clamp your thighs shut, but Toji has you pressed apart on the sheets.

A longgg, slutty groan is falling from his slacked jaw as he reels his hips back, pupils dilating when he catches sight of the warm, glistening arousal that sheathes his cock. Never in his life has he felt something so… wet. Your syrupy, drooling lips stretch so wide for him, effortlessly swallowing each and everyone one of his languid, torturous thrusts.

Toji is so large, it nearly feels like there’s two of him. You feel him everywhere — he is everywhere. His fat, drooling cock is splitting you open while his calloused palms are pawing anywhere they can reach; they’re creeping up your pretty waist, pushing your shirt up, taking it off. His lips are parting, an unintentional gasp ensuing when your tits are spilling out for him.

Another big hand is reaching for your face, cupping your jaw as a warm, curious thumb grazes your bottom lip. Instinctively, your lips are parting, wordlessly inviting him into your sweet mouth. Obeying your silent needs, the salty digit is pushing past your parted lips to pry your jaw open. He can’t help the throaty moan that bellows from his lungs as you swallow around his finger, sucking so whorishly as your eyes threaten to cross.

He’s so entranced by the warmth of your mouth that he can’t help but to replace his thumb with his two middle fingers. The long, burly digits creep farther and farther down the length of your tongue, forcing a loud, helpless gag from your swollen lips. Your delirious eyes are welling with tears, brows furrowing deeply when your pussy throbs in response. A slow, devilish grin is marring his handsome face.

“Oh?” He gasps in near astonishment, taking notice of the undeniable pulse of your cunt. “You like my fingers in your mouth, don’t you?”

You nod, drool spilling from the corners of your lips. Never in your life have you been so aroused. It’s almost too much to bear, you can hardly think anymore. All you feel is him — his big hands that control you, his fingers that rest against your tongue, the heat his body radiates, even the repetitive strike of his full balls against the fat of your ass has you babbling nonsense.

Every deep, elongated thrust is pulling the nastiest sounds out of you, even the overwhelming pressure of the heavy thumb that’s pressed to your clit has you mewling in rapture. Your pretty pussy leaks like a broken faucet that begs to be mended — so sloppy and needy, poor legs spread achingly wide as he sinks into your slutty little hole over and over and over again like a madman on the brink of utter insanity.

“Were you thinkin’ about me in class, hm?” He’s abruptly jerking you closer, pulling your legs on either side of his waist. You nod dumbly, mouth falling open for your sweet, broken whimpers to escape. “Yeah, sweet girl? Were you thinkin’ about me comin’ over and stretching this perfect pussy out like this, huh?” A guttural groan tumbling past his lips when your hips buck weakly to meet his heavy thrusts. “Oh my god, baby, come here… you want more?” He’s nearly growling as he yanks you impossibly closer.

Two, strong hands are gripping at the thick of your hips, selfishly pulling you onto his cock, impaling you. He deftly drills himself into your pussy like a weightless fleshlight whose only purpose is to take cock. All of his noisy, ragged breaths come out in short huffs each time he bottoms out, fucking the literal breath out of himself. His bruising grip holds you still, long fingers splayed across your waist and hips as he continues to stuff you with the entirety of his fat cock.

The hypnotic rebound of your chest is killing him; they sit so perfectly and he’s feral. He’s leaning down to audibly inhale your sweet, gourmand perfume as it permeates throughout the sweltering air. His handsome face is tucked between your pretty breasts, greedy tongue darting past his lips to lick along the expanse of your chest. You’re panting out hums of pleasure, breath hitching discernibly when he begins to sink his teeth into the supple flesh.

“F— fuuuuckkk,” you’re deliriously wailing in rapture, hips rolling in tandem with his furious thrusts, “so good, so gooood… your cock feels s’fucking good. Hah—oh my god, Toji.” You’re slurring over yourself, truly intoxicated from the punishing buck of his hips.

His cock throbs at your drunken words, balls swelling painfully when you grasp for his shirt to ground yourself. Both of your mouths sag open, brows furrowing identically as you pant in loud, harmonious breaths. The wet, gut-wrenching smack! of skin against skin that reverberates throughout your bedroom is deafening, nothing else can be heard.

Your hips buck wildly, desperately fucking him back as sweet cries of his name spill from your tongue. His gaze is steady and unwavering, observing as you reach for anything you can — his face, his bulging biceps, the fabric of his shirt; but it’s when you reach for the small of his back, driving him impossibly deeper each time he bottoms out that makes the vein running along the underside of his cock throb painfully, his leaking head bullying your cervix over and over and over again.

“God, you tryna make me cum, huh?” He’s slipping out of you to hastily pull you on top of him, handling you just the way he needs. “Do it then, show me how you like to fuck, c’mon.” Two hands are gripping at the thick of your hips, encouraging you to use him.

With both hands, you reach for his chest, stabilizing yourself as you raise your hips. Warm palms are creeping up the fat of your thighs to soothe the discernible trembling of your aching muscles. He kneads the plush skin absentmindedly, mouth gaping incredulously when you slowly begin to sink down the length of his stiff cock, your pretty pussy slobbering all over him.

“Fuck me like a slut, c’mon,” it’s a low, demanding whisper as his hands are reaching forward to find purchase on your hips, subtly guiding your frantic movements, “show me how good, slutty girls are supposed to ride cock.” A nasty, crooked smirk plagues his face, crinkling the corners of his beautifully aged, darkened eyes.

Your mouth sags in a string of helpless whimpers when you sink down onto him again, and again, and again and each time your hips collide, he’s forcing you deeper. The large hands glued to your waist are pushing you back and forth, wordlessly commanding you. The dull, achy stretch of his cock as it drags along your sopping walls is pulling the filthiest sounds from your gaped mouth — beautiful cries of pleasure, desperate pleads for more, and short huffs of air that only make him harder.

Even under you, he’s still massive, taking up the entirety of your bed as you sit so prettily atop him, thighs aching from the width of his hips. Sticky beads of sweat adorn his face and several tussled strands of short, inky hair dance haphazardly along his forehead, partially occluding his vision as he peers up at you through thick, furrowing brows.

“C’mereee, baby, fuck,” a greedy hand is reaching for your throat, deft fingers wrapping so possessively around the expanse of your neck, pulling you close.

His lips deliriously catch yours, tasting you so desperately — so sluttily. His warm tongue is creeping into your mouth, shamelessly exploring the sweet cavity. He swallows each and every gasp and whimper that he fucks out of you, intentionally storing them in the depths of his mind for later retrieval whenever he’d inevitably think about this very moment again. Your mouth hangs wide as you mindlessly kiss him back, obediently taking all of his tongue, all of his hot, raptured breaths, all of his wanton groans of pleasure — everything.

Toji can hardly help the feral buck of his hips beneath you, he doesn’t want to help it. He needs for you to remember the feeling of his cock — how it pries you open and guts you out, how it stupidly pulls your mouth wide, even the way it creates the slightest bulge in your abdomen each time he’s at a hilt. He needs for your cunt to remember the shape of him.

If you don’t go to class with his cock in the forefront of your mind, if it isn’t what you envision when you pleasure yourself during ungodly hours of the night, if you’re not drawn to tears because you can’t possibly replicate the feeling of his punishing thrusts, then it’s a job poorly done and Toji won’t have that. Not now. Not ever.

The sheer force of his thrusts are jerking you forward, toppling you onto his chest and into his arms; they’re wrapping around you, pulling you impossibly closer as the mind-numbing buck of his hips only intensifies. Every frantic breath and throaty groan is lost in the crook of your neck, the close range of his moans like kindle to a rampant flame.

“Is anyone on campus fucking you like this?” It’s a strained, breathless whisper against the shell of your ear, his wet lips grazing your skin. “Who else is fucking you like this, huh?” He reiterates, a hand creeping up your jaw, holding you still so that he can observe your drunken gaze.

“No… no one,” you cry, shaking your head as best you can under his tightening grip, “nobody knows how to f-fuck me right.” The quiver of your sweet, honeyed voice makes his stomach sink in his ever growing arousal, cock twitching, begging for release.

Toji frowns, his darkened eyes softening. “Awwww, nobody knows how to please this slutty little pussy huh, sweetheart?” The hand that holds your face caresses your flushed cheek, a fat thumb slipping into the corner of your parted lips. “You needed a stranger to come over and fuck the shit out of you like this?” As if to accentuate his point, he’s tucking himself unbearably deeper, the lewd plap! of his balls echoing each time he bottoms out.

A big, heavy hand is landing on the fat of your ass with an experimental, earsplitting smack! You yelp incredulously, hissing through your gritted teeth as you brace yourself for another impact, but it doesn’t come. Immediately, your lust-stricken eyes are searching for his, a desperate cry dragging for your kiss-bitten lips as you plead for another.

“A-again,” you mumble, reaching for his hand to pull it over the reddening fat of your ass, enticing him, “hit me again… please.”

Wordlessly, he obliges, his heavy hand coming down once, twice, thrice, and then, you feel the gut wrenching coil in the pit of your stomach grow impossibly tighter, yearning for release. As you stupidly bounce up and down the length of his cock, you’re drunkenly babbling, but it’s the slutty, breathless whine of his name that’s dragging his mouth open in pure arousal; every breath he huffs is now a whorish moan or a guttural groan of pleasure.

“Oh, god,” he groans, his head sinking deeper into your cushiony, pink pillow, “rub that clit for me, sweetheart… I wanna see how you cum on it,” his shameless, drunken gaze is flitting between your rolling eyes and the way his twitching cock disappears into your cunt, “be a good girl ‘n make yourself cum on my cock.”

A frantic hand is reaching down to play with your poor, swollen clit, your entire being shuddering so violently from the feeling your own, overwhelming touch; It’s too much, too sensitive. Sinful rivulets of drool spill down your chin, your head falling to the side so stupidly as you trace haphazard circles around the ravaged bundle of nerves.

“M’gonna c-cum,” you gasp, stomach sinking as your orgasm swells in the pit of your core, “hah —ohhh my fucking god… f-fuck fuck fuck.”

“Yeah? Are you cumming for me, pretty girl?” He’s coos as he draws you closer, the tip of his large nose brushing yours. “Do it then, make a mess on my cock, sweetheart c’mon,” his lips are on yours once again, kissing you so fucking sloppily, nothing but wet tongue and clashing teeth, “fuuuckkk yes, c’mon baby. Thaaaat’s it… cum on my cock just like that, such a good fucking girl.”

His mouth gapes as you buck against him, desperate, uninhibited moans dragging from your sore throat. With nothing but a strangled whimper in his throat, Toji is reluctantly slipping out of you, feverishly pumping the length of his cock in his tight fist. It’s so fucking wet; your arousal adorns the entirety of his cock and his drooling tip leaks desperately for you, making for an obscenely loud schlop! that reverberates throughout the sweltering atmosphere.

Toji’s head is pressing deeper into your pillow, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows thickly. His kiss-bitten lips are pursing together as he hums in rapture, whimpering strangled, erratic breaths through his nostrils. His forearm tenses as he hastily strokes his slick cock, sweet mutters of your name and lewd profanities spilling from his tongue.

“Help me, fuck, don’t just watch,” he gasps breathlessly, his vacant hand blindly searching for yours to wrap it around the fist that holds his cock, “fuck, fuck, fuck… yeah, make me cum like a good slut.”

The feeling of your smaller, less adept fingers wrapping around his fist and cock is what has him spilling an obscene amount of warm, syrupy cum between your searing bodies. It coats the expanse of your tits and abdomen, dripping so sinfully down your soft, perspiring skin. Toji thinks this is the hardest he’s ever cum in his life; even the day he lost his virginity pales in comparison.

It’s the look of utter enthrallment that’s written in your widening eyes as you observe his full body shudders that ensue with each viscous spurt of cum. It’s the way you’re beaming down at him, a content smile slowly spreading across your pretty, post-sex face. It’s the way you’re swiping a swift, curious finger to collect the cum that trickles down your chest, popping the digit in your mouth with a pleasureful hum of satisfaction.

Dumbfounded, Toji smiles. “You really are a woman of your word, huh?”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･

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lxnarphase · 10 months ago

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━━ ❝ guide you all the way down, be your nightlight ❞

up to the challenge : ⌞no nut november⌝ edition [ pt 1 - pt 3 - pt 4 ]

☾₊‧⁺...ft. : n. kento + h. hiromi + k. choso

☾₊‧⁺...cw: fingerfucking, squirting, dirty talking, begging, deep throating condom breaking, excessive cum, riding, kento being lovey-dovey, hiromi nearly loses his mind, choso being whiny and desperate, reader is on birth control but choso is just worried about the mess of no condom, choso's part is very long and indulgent

☾₊‧⁺...synopsis : to the anon who requests choso and nanami, i hope you don't mind i threw higuruma in here too, i really wanted to include him since he gives the vibes of being in the middle between nanami and choso 🖤 thank you so much for the request !

✧ n. kento lasts : entire month

you were the one to bring this up to kento, mentioning in passing that gojo wouldn't shut up about this 'challenge' he and geto were going to participate in. with a hum, he asks if you were trying to suggest something to him. if you wanted him to try this little 'game,' he wouldn't mind...as long as you'd let him pamper you all month. and he really does; he's breezing through each day as though nothing is wrong. kento's still as sweet as ever, constantly cuddling you, taking you out on formal dates, and telling you how much he loves you. he manages well the entire November, only showing weakness whenever you try to tease him. but of course, if you're going to try and break his streak, he just spreads you out on the bed, fingerfucking you until you squirt all over his hand. eventually, the whole month flies by, and kento genuinely feels relief that it's over. but he's a little shocked when he comes home, and you're dressed in a pretty, yellow matching lingerie set as you drag him into the bedroom that's filled with candles and roses...he pampered you all month, now it was his turn to be pampered.

"kentooo~" having you between his legs like this, cooing his name so sweetly, causes a shiver to shoot down his spine. you look so adorable, so gorgeous on your knees and pressing kisses up and down his length. those pretty kiss marks would be burned into his mind for weeks. but what makes his stomach flip the most? is that look in your eye. that needy, desperate, loving gaze...it made his cock twitch in your hands. "darling, please," he sighs, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek. you smile at him, you fucking smile at him like you aren't peppering his cock in kisses. with a little nip to his thumb, you giggle, nuzzling into his palm. "just focus on me, okay, ken?" he nods, sucking in a breath when your lips press against the tip of his dick. "fuck, princess, god, when you suck me down like that-!" the calm, sweet environment was gone now, with the way you sloppily sucked his cock. it was so fucking messy, your lipstick smearing all over his shaft as your manicured hand cupped his balls, softly massaging them as you felt your spit dripping down to your hand. "yes, yes, just like that, princess, k-keep going. oh, you're so fucking beautiful with my cock in your throat, 'm gonna cum soon in that pretty throat," he oh-so gorgeously moans for you, throwing his head back as he tries not to buck up into your hot mouth. for being such a refined, put-together man, kento loves when you give him such messy head, seeing how your lipstick is smeared everywhere, your chin dripping with precum and saliva. you could feel him throb in your throat just from the view. your kento is so sweet like this, doing his best not to fuck your mouth. but could anyone blame him when your mouth is so hot and wet? god, he never wants you to stop, not when you make him feel so greedy. each time you take him down your throat, kento swears he's going to cum, his head lolling back again as he lets out a deep groan of your name when you take all of him down like it's nothing. he wanted nothing more than to grab you by your hair and fuck your mouth like he wanted...but he wouldn't. no, he's going to keep letting his darling pamper him how she wants...but when he keeps just moaning your name so sweetly, begging you to let him cum... "p-please, honey, I'm so close, let me cum, my pretty girl, let me cum, I'll do anything-!" how could you say no to that?

✧ h. hiromi lasts : entire month

by the end of the first week, hiromi realizes how much he fucking regretted doing this. dealing with his cases has him so stressed he's surprised he didn't go completely grey. every time he comes home, he just wants to love on you, his darling little wife, but he can’t because he’s already dedicated to beating this foolish challenge. so while he can't cum, he is sure to take his frustrations out on you. but it literally crushes him each time he makes you cum, whether it be with his hands, mouth, or dick, and you look at him with those cute pleading eyes, softly whining for him to let you take care of him and make him cum too.

you are too cute for your own good, nearly causing hiromi to cave in several times as the month progressed. even you can see how it was affecting him, as he gets more and more desperate to make you cum, his eyes always zeroed in on your face to ensure your feeling good. he was a prideful, strong man, but fuck, he was so frustrated and pent up that he started to beg you to cum. "you're close, right? i can feel it, sweet thing. just listen to your pussy, she's so wet and sloppy, just from my fingers," he groans into your ear, sounding so wrecked and needy, and he hasn't even touched himself once. but you can hear it, the annoyance in his tone. hiromi is so close to breaking, to giving up and you nearly beg him again to just fuck you, but your eyes catch a glimpse of the clock on the wall. 12:27 am. it was december. he did it, he fucking made it, and you were desperately clawing at his wrist, trying to get his attention. "'romi, 'r-'romi! 's december, you made it, please, pull it out, t-take your dick out, 'romi, need you in me so bad!" with a quick glance to the clock to make sure you weren't fucking with him, hiromi lets out a delirious laugh, undoing his pants enough to pull his throbbing cock out, and he easily folds you in half, sliding his tip through the sopping wet mess between your thighs. "i made it, didn't i? i made it. so now you're gonna reward me, right?" you squeal when you feel the tip of his cock get caught on the entrance of your hole and nudge in juuust enough for you to cry out his name, gushing from the little stimulation it gives you. "look at you...I've been neglecting this little cunt, my fingers aren't enough, my mouth isn't enough. no, no, she needs t' be stuffed with a thick, fat cock to make 'er cream...isn't that right, angel?"

✧ k. choso lasts : 30 minutes

choso was stupid. he was so fucking stupid for even thinking he could do this challenge. he literally heard about it from yuuji before but had no idea what it meant. so here he was, looking at the calendar on his phone. it was mid-morning, and 5 minutes ago, he decided to do this challenge. choso should've remembered that he was a desperate man when it came to you because the second you come out of the bedroom, rubbing your eyes as you sleepily greet your boyfriend, he knows he's fucked. but seeing you in his black t-shirt and likely nothing else and choso let out a shaky sigh. just looking at you has his mind racing with all the different ways he wants to have you. you’d look really cute in his lap with a blissed-out smile on your face. with a needy whine, he stands up, dragging you back to the bedroom as he greedily kisses you, shoving his tongue into your mouth and moaning against your lips.

"fuck, fuck, fuck, 'm sorry, you look s' cute, so pretty, m-my pretty baby, y-your cunt is sucking me in—!" choso is a mess, fucking into you from behind. his hands grip your hips, keeping your ass up in the air as his cock abuses your insides, his hot, thick tip smushing against your cervix. he's fucking you into the mattress, his moans mixing with yours and those sweet, wet squelching sounds coming from your pussy, sucking his cock back in with each pull out of you. "moan louder, please? m-move your head, stop muffling yourself w-with the pillow," he whines, his body hovering over yours. you can feel drool dripping from his mouth onto your back, and just the feeling makes your eyes roll back. knowing he was so needy and desperate just to get his dick wet inside of you that he was drooling all over you made your walls clench so hard around him. "c-cho, 's too fucking deep, b-baby, 'm gonna cum," you sob, hands clawing into the pillowcase. instantly, you feel choso grip you harder, barely pulling out of you as his hips slap against yours in a bruising fashion, your body jolting up the bed with how hard he was fucking you. "don' run, please,, don' run from it," he whimpers, choking on a sob as he feels himself twitch inside your gummy walls, his hips stuttering against yours when you keen, pushing back against him when he hits a spot that feels so good. "fuck, f-fuck, 'm cumming, your pussy's so good, so wet, so fuckin' hot, 'm sorry, 'm cumming-!" despite his orgasm rushing over him, he keeps fucking you, his eyes rolling back as he moans your name over and over again, begging you for...something. he doesn't notice the sudden change, but you do, suddenly feeling warm and full inside as he keeps pounding into you. your eyes snap open, and you whine, turning a little to press your hand against his chest. "cho, h-honeyyyy! t-the condom, you broke the condom, you're cummin' in me!' you can't lie, it feels so good, and you feel your head swimming as he pumps thick seed into your needy cunt. it's another minute until he's done, and he starts to pull out but sees how creamy his cock is...and the way the condom is ripped at the top. he...he just came in you. his thick cum was starting to drip out of you, and your hand came up to press against your hole, not wanting to drip it onto the mattress. but he only registered it as you wanting to keep it inside...you wanted his cum? you wanted him to fill up that pretty pussy? he didn't even realize he was speaking out loud, quickly peeling off the broken condom and lining back up with your creamy cunt. "i-i don't mind it, choso, b-but t-take the condom off b-before you-chooo, babyyy, w-wait, that's so deep-!" "s-shhh, s'okay, you can take it, take it for me, 's okay, i always make it fit, i-it fits so good, pretty cunt, 's all mine, 'm gonna cum 'n you over and over again until your a creamy little mess, baby, i-i'll eat it outta you too, promise, promise, just let me stuff you, please!" hm, maybe he'd tell you later this was supposed to be a challenge...maybe not and just pretend like he needed you real bad today.

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luveline · 6 months ago

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𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

You and Spencer finally find time for your first time. 6k

fem, afab!reader, mostly confident!reader, foreplay, oral sex, p in v sex, lovey dovey tender loser sex, established relationship, pet names, aftercare, requested here <3

cw for smut, minors do not read or interact, 18+ content

˗ˋˏ ʚ♡�� ˎˊ˗

“Can you stay still?”

“No,” you answer honestly.

Spencer climbs further toward you on the bed. “I’m trying to help. You’re no good at buttons.”

You’re no good at buttons because your fingers shake whenever you and Spencer get close like this, and with these intentions. You’d always thought he’d be the shy one —sometimes you take his hand in the back of the work car to watch his cheeks go a rosy, unignorable pink. He’s the more introverted of the two of you and he always has been, so why does his touch have you trembling already?

Excitement, you decide, heart in your mouth as his fingers begin to pop your buttons through each matching slit. This is exactly what happened last time you and Spencer tried (and were sorely interrupted). You’d been out of breath and in his lap, too excited to see to his buttons, too busy kissing him to take much notice as he’d taken care of them himself. And then work called, your plans were cancelled, and he’d promised you that you’d get to do this soon.

“I’m good at buttons,” you deny, leaning back on the palms of your hands as his pinky’s brush up, the sides of your shirt falling open.

“Oh, you’re back,” he says. He’s teasing in bed. You aren’t expecting it. “You went somewhere else for a few seconds, you okay?” That’s less teasing, more sweet.

His hands pause just under where your bra begins.

You take a breath. “I’m okay, I’m thinking about last time.”

He leans in for a kiss, a quick but steady catching that has your face following him as he pulls away again, and undoes your next button. “Which part?”

The part where he’d insisted you’d be laying down for this. The memory alone inspires heat, pleasure and wanting from the depth of your chest, your stomach, ever lower.

“Did you lock your door?” you ask.

Your phones are off. The door is locked. Spencer promises as much in your ear as leans in closer to you, crawls that last few inches of space to have your legs tangled atop his white sheets, his hand disappearing under the open sides of your shirt. The other hand works the last few buttons, but you don’t get to watch him do it, distracted by his fingers hot on the small of your back and his lips as he pulls you in tight for another kiss.

This one’s slow. He holds you like he’s worried you’re gonna slip out of his arm where it curls behind you, cool air kissing your chest as he gets the last button by your neck and encourages either side away from you. You lean into him and shake your shirt down the lengths of your arms, finally shirtless in front of him again after days of trying. You try to keep up with his kissing, he’s intense, he’s everywhere, but you run out of breath.

“Oh,” you say uselessly, your cheek against his as he kisses your jaw.

“What, angel?” he asks, breath warm to your skin, “What’s up?”

“Nothing… I wore my nice bra for you.”

“You did?” He promptly pulls away. His face is pinking, but it’s so warm you can’t blame him for it. You’re sure he’d feel a furnace under your skin if he touched your forehead. Spencer’s gaze falls down to your chest, where it stays, his own rising and falling with a noticeable sharpness. “That’s pretty. You’re pretty.” He swallows as he looks up. “Your nice bra? Just one?”

You cover a breast with your hand and push it up ever so slightly. “This is the one I thought you’d like most. You like blue.”

“I love blue. I love you, I love you,” he says, leaning around you to move your discarded shirt to the floor. “Can I take it off?”

You nod with a stupid smile. Fond and too eager. “Please.”

“How many tries do I get?” he asks, grabbing your sides in two gentle hands, pulling you forward into a hug as he reaches behind you for the clasp.

“You can do it one,” you promise, voice a murmur now he’s close to you.

You let your hands rest on his hips as he pinches the clasp and pushes it together. Like magic, it comes apart. Spencer holds the unclasped sides to your naked back for a few seconds, his breath loud in your ear, before he sits back to look at you.

You push the straps of your bra down, let the support of your bra fall away. You ball it up in your lap, sitting there bare-chested and smiling, waiting, hoping you’re as beautiful to him as he’s always made you feel.

His hand climbs your arm. “You’re beautiful,” he says, “can I–”

“Yeah, please. Please.”

His thumb rubs a short line from your navel to the skin just below your breast. Your chest feels suddenly heavy, the half-lidded set of his eyes on you like a weight, but it’s one you realise you like as he rubs the indent of your bra. “You’re so pretty,” he says, his thumb pressing into the underside of your breast, kind but undeniably there, and your body reacts to his touch, which is another thing. He doesn’t coo, but it’s close. “How does that feel?” he asks quietly, drawing under your nipple with his thumb.

“Can you kiss me some more?” you ask, breathless in a way that’s almost painful.

Spencer clutches you by your sides, unafraid to play with you, pressing you down into the bed as his hands traverse up. You shuffle back into the pillows and let your eyes shutter closed, his nose pressing hard into yours as your lips meet again. He kisses hungrily. He’s treated you to a few heavy kisses in the past, nothing compares now to the open crescent of his lips and the feeling of his hands. His tongue is hot where it touches your lips, wading in. You sigh into his mouth and feel his own sigh in return as he breaks it.

“Fuck,” he says, his breath coloured by pleasure. He’s practically moaning in your ear as a big hand squeezes your chest.

You can’t take this. You lift your hips and graze against him, rushing to reach down and slip your skirt over the curve of your ass and over stocking clad thighs. You try to push them along at the same time, breathing hard.

Spencer notices what you’re doing and reaches to help.

“Your shirt,” you argue, faces close, his confusion an inch away, as are his pinked lips, “take your shirt off, Spencer, I can do this myself.”

“But why should you have to?” he says, though he listens, making quick work of his button up.

You kick your stockings off of your feet and lay there, warm, overwhelmed but desperate at once, watching him on his knees as he manages his last button and peels out of his shirt. You cross your legs tightly against the achy heat blooming in your cunt, uncharacteristically shy.

His chest is pale, without a freckle nor beauty mark, but he’s shapely. You've kissed him so much these last few months, traced the hills and rigid muscle of his front with an adoring hand under his clothes, but the two of you being similarly bared is different.

It’s worse when he reaches for the button of his slacks.

You bite your lip. “Spencer, can I do it?”

“Yeah.” He swallows again. “Of course you can. Don’t ask me.”

He’s getting warm, curls of his hair falling into his eyes, his breath a constant huff. The bulge of him through his slacks draws your attention. You crawl toward him where he’s kneeling, checking his face. When he nods, you rub the very pad of your thumb against the line of his cock, feel it jump at your touch. Your heart jumps in a similar place.

“This okay?” you whisper, your touch light enough that you’re surprised he can feel it.

“Please.” He says your name like you’ve hurt him. “Please. Take them off.”

“I can’t believe you’re like that just from kissing me,” you say sincerely, a mumble as you pop the button and dig your fingertip under the zipper, which you pull down in one smooth line. There’s an immediate release of pressure against his cock. You blink. It’s so warm in here. “Spence, can I–”

“Please.”

You nod to yourself and shift onto one elbow, shocked and even warmer when Spencer plumps a pillow behind you. Your anticipation is an ache that won’t ebb, hands trembling again as you pull the band of his pants down his hips and expose a pair of white and blue boxer briefs. A darkened patch of material rests against the tip of his cock, the curve of him ever harder as you touch him.

He sucks in air through his teeth.

“Aw, Spence,” you say, pressing the length of your thumb to his cock and breathing out as you ride the curve of him up to that wet spot. “Sweetheart… Does that feel good?”

He closes his hand on top of yours and holds you there. “Can I kiss you?” he asks.

“I think I gotta kiss you first,” you say, eyes on his straining boxers. “Think you might need one.”

He shakes his head. “I can’t. I’ll ruin everything before we’ve even started, you can’t kiss me like that.”

“Are you sure? I can make sure you’re ready.”

You’d never force him into anything. You’re letting him know it’s alright. You’re not gonna push him over the edge before he’s done, you just wanna do all the stuff with him that you’ve been dreaming about for a while now. You have a feeling he might enjoy it.

“You can tell me to stop whenever you need me to,” you say softly, feeling his cock twitch in your hand at the mere sound of your voice. “I wanna see you.”

He laughs infectiously, almost drunkenly, the two of you giggling as he shifts your hands. He doesn’t say anything more, only moves your hands down over the softer base of his cock to encourage his pants out of the way, and then his boxers.

His cock is pretty like he is as he pulls it out. You knew it would be. A little taller than your hand, he tugs it toward his stomach and you watch in delight as a string of precum catches the light, wetting his palm.

You’re patient. He lets it stand without help and you curl your hand where his had been at the base, his cock shining in lines, that welling of precum spread messily around and worse when you give a soft pump. “Oh my god,” he mumbles, shuffling closer to you on his knees, his hand leaping to your shoulder. “Oh, god.”

You tilt your head. “How’s that, baby?”

“Please, angel.”

You lean in for a kiss.

Just a kiss, but your lips part, your spit ready on your tongue and slick in a heavy line up the side of his cock. All you can think of in that moment is how much you want him, how gentle his hand is on your shoulder despite the wounded little breath he lets out, and the stickying feeling of wetness that grows between your thighs, your underwear damp at the very centre and clinging to you as you crawl as close to his front as you can get. You kiss and kiss up the side of him, not silly enough to love on his most sensitive skin at the head, not after his warning, though the idea of his cock shuddering against your lips and tongue makes you squeeze your eyes closed.

You kiss shy of his tip and tilt your head back to look at him. He’s already watching you, squinting with a palpable agony.

“Are you okay? Is that alright?” you ask, loosening your grip on his cock to draw a loving, sweet line down, and down.

He catches your wrist. “You can’t do that again,” he warns gently, hint of a smile in his eyes. You beam at him adoringly. “Lay back? There’s something in my way.”

“In your way,” you murmur through a smile, laying back in the pillows as he’s asked you.

Spencer sheds his slacks and boxers. You pull your legs up to give him room to kneel on the bed by your legs, pulse like a constant humming ache against your cunt as he takes your calves into his hands and presses your knees together. “You’re not gonna say please like I did, are you?” he asks.

“Do you need me to?” you ask, teasing him with your own hand, letting it travel from the base of your throat and over a tightened breast to your stomach, then your underwear. You flick the waistband. His eyelashes flare. “I can say please, Spence, I’d love to say please for you. Is that what you want me to do?”

“I don’t ever want you to say please, you know that.” He encourages one leg flat to the bed. The other, he pushes up, fabric of your underwear tight to your warm cunt and heartbeat surely taking up station in your throat. “Maybe I can say please.” His hand coasts down your thigh. “Would you like that?”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t say please, or don’t touch you?” he asks, stopping his squeezing.

“Spencer!” you laugh, moving your hips ever so slightly, raising them in hopes of his understanding. “This is cruel, I didn’t tease you.”

“You’re nice,” he says, again pressing your leg up toward your stomach, eyes on the bump of your cunt as he begins to lean down. “You’re perfect,” he murmurs, pressing a surprising kiss to your soft inner thigh. “So perfect.” Closer now, nose skirting toward the elastic of your underwear. “Please, can I?”

You press your shaky hand to your lips, palm out. “Please,” you say into your skin. “Yeah. Yes, you can. Can you?”

A kiss to the skin beside your cunt, his free hand riding up to squeeze the bump of it, his thumb pressing against wet heat, your breath caught. He rubs a line up from the wet to your clit, and he smiles when he finds it, though that smile is swiftly overtaken by parting lips as he kisses a mixture of skin and fabric and starts to suck. You hiccup at the feeling.

“You sound cute when you’re happy,” he says into your thigh. He turns his head slowly, looking up at you, his thumb rubbing almost absentmindedly at the sensitive little hood of your clit, your nerves all over the place. He’s giving you the puppy eyes, big and brown and in sickly love with you.

“Happy’s not the right word,” you breathe out.

“I should fix that, right?”

Your stomach does a hard flip. “Yeah.”

Spencer isn’t as timid about it as you’d imagined he’d be, his reality better than any fantasy, his hands kind but quick where twists his fingers into the waistband of your underwear as he begins pulling them down.

He lets out a long breath as the air kisses your cunt, his eyes trained obviously on one spot in particular as he takes your panties all the way to your feet. He rolls one leg off, leaves the other hanging at your ankle as he grabs the soft underside of your knee and encourages your leg up.

You can feel your cunt spread, feel the wetness that had been growing dribble from you. “Ah,” you say, more breath than word while he holds your leg in place. “Spencer–”

“Am I hurting you?”

“No, no, I just need you to touch me, please, I–”

He says your name, says, “Hey, don’t talk like that, I’ve got you, I’m gonna touch you, just needed to know you’re okay–”

“Spencer–” you squirm with wanting.

“I know,” he says, the tip of his cock turned impossibly red where it’s resting against the heaving of his abs, “trust me.”

He reaches for your abdomen, his palm resting lovingly on the pudge of your tummy. You squirm for it lower. “If you think I’m not gonna give you everything you want, you're crazy. When don’t you get your way?” He leans down, and to your relief, your little gasp of breath, he kisses your naked cunt. “When don’t I want to give it to you?” he asks into your skin.

Every word he says is heat and movement against the nerves that make up your clit. You practically shiver as he lets his lips part against you and kisses all over, unafraid to feel every little bit of you, his tongue pressed wet and flat your softest parts. You spread your legs in anticipation of him, his thank you a kiss that lights up every nerve ending you have that stems from your hips, the breath racing out of you and moans not far behind. He rubs the length of your leg, his fingers trailing towards his kissing. The hand that isn’t up to something just loves on your skin. The hand that is pauses shy of your cunt’s wet hole —you can’t help letting out a choked moan as he sucks on your clit and the skin around it, sudden, the feeling of hot slick dripping from you worse as he pulls away with a quiet pop.

His lips shine in the lamplight. “I’m gonna start getting you ready, okay?” he asks, a small smile somewhere in the midst of a gaze that’s otherwise laden with lust. His fingertips tease your entrance. “What do you think, angel, can I do that?”

You might need a kiss to get through it. You can’t decide whether you want him to keep eating you out like that, like you’re water to the famished, like he’s worried he’s not quick enough to get every bit of you where he wants it, but you’re so desperate to be fucked by him that you can feel it in the pit of your stomach. “Spencer, you need to kiss me,” you decide.

“I am–”

“No, come here. Need you on top of me. You can get me ready,” you agree, eyes peculiarly damp, “but I really wanna kiss you right now, baby, please, please–”

He’s on top of you by your second please. You gasp at the rigidity of his cock pressing to your cunt and find it lost in his mouth, his fingertips wet with sex pressed to the side of your face. He remembers himself, kisses all the same but hand moving down again, turning his weight onto the bed and off of you as he feels at your cunt. His fingers slide through hair and wetness alike to tease at your cunt. You can feel wet on his fingers as he pushes in just a centimetre, again on his thumb when he circles your heat carefully, and all the while he’s kissing you like he’s been starved of you. He’s saying angel and so pretty against your stinging mouth.

It’s strange when he pushes two fingers in, but not bad. You’ve never done this with one another, and it takes him a few careful thrusts of his fingers to figure out where he should be directing his motion, and what to do to make you happy. You nod into his mouth as he finds a sweet spot and presses into it, quirked fingers quick to the very last knuckle, his pinky and index fingers sliding without resistance against the wet mess on either side of your cunt. “There?” he asks.

“Yes,” you say, pulling his face closer to yours, your hands twined deep in his hair.

He digs around against your walls, to your abject joy and something else, some emotion you can’t name, the want to be touched everywhere by him, to be the kind of full of him where you can’t breathe.

He presses his fingers inside you, undulating against the gum of your walls, and groans into your lips as you pull in a shivery breath. His hips jerk hard, his cock sliding against your stomach hot as a brand.

Spencer pulls up. You’re in the throes of one another, but his eyes are clear. “How do you want it?” he asks tenderly. “Can I stay here, or should I move back?”

“Just to start, it’s always tight–” You catch your breath now he’s paused, stroking curls away from his flushed cheeks. “I’ll sit up a little and you can still hold my hand,” —he doesn’t question this even for a second— “just so you can see what you’re doing, and then–”

“It’s okay, we can work it out,” he interrupts. “I’m not gonna rush and hurt you.”

“I didn’t think you would,” you whisper, cupping his face in your hand.

He ducks in for a slow, chaste kiss.

“I know you didn’t,” Spencer says. He takes another kiss, pressing one to the top of your chin.

Then he’s shuffling backwards and off of you, and he’s grabbing your hips, lifting you up as he positions himself at your cunt. You shuffle back in the opposite direction to wedge yourself firmly in his pillows, knees up and heels either side of his lap as he moves in. His cock rubs against your cunt by accident, then quickly again with a deliberateness, like he’d felt you and couldn’t help himself.

“God, you’re so pretty,” he says. His eyebrows pinch together in a glare, his thumb pressing to your clit. There’s no purchase there anymore, your wetness having made its way up, but he rubs it nonetheless. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world.”

You grab his hand. Twine your fingers into his. “I love you, Spence,” you say easily. “Don’t be shy.”

He’s giving you that Can’t believe I’m with you look that he often does. It reminds you of the first time you met when you’d called him beautiful without knowing he’d mean this much to you one day, because he really was gorgeous, everything you’d ever want in a guy and lovelier after. You flirted your way into being his friend, and one day your hand-holding was hugging, your friendly cheek kissing turned to lazy hickeys, and he’s still giving you that look. Like he doesn’t deserve you. Like you’re gonna disappear.

You reach between your centre and his to nudge his hand down, guiding him into place. “Say you love me,” you request in a murmur.

“I love you,” he says, head of his cock against your opening. He abandons your clit, to your disappointment, but he’s grabbing the rump of your ass and hip to hold you in place.

He is achingly, achingly slow. He’s so gentle with his thrusts that you feel like you could love him twice as much as when you started, his wrinkled brow, his eyes flitting between your face and the stretch of your cunt to check on you as he goes. He reaches a natural resistance, nothing he couldn’t push past if he didn’t want to, but he doesn’t have to —he’s not fully sheathed and yet you’re aflame with pleasure. He’s at just the right angle. All he needs to do is move.

“There?” he asks softly,

“Please, right there.”

He pushes forward and a breath leaves his lips like you stole it. “You’re tight,” he says, “I knew you would be at first, but I didn’t expect�� do I need to stop?”

“No, no, that’s the best part…” You close your eyes. If he weren’t holding your hand you’d cover your face. “Spence, it’s supposed to feel like this, baby. You just find the way you like it and I’ll tell you if it’s not right.”

“Promise?”

“Promise– oh.”

The fronts of his thighs press to yours, his cock flush to your walls and digging into something sweet and sensitive enough to make your thighs shake. Good luck, you think, for the two of you to fit together like this, for his cock to fill you without hurting or leaving you wanting, even though he’s just a little over half inside. He goes slow, almost repetitive, his thumb drawing dedicated half circles into the back of your hand where he’s securing it to your hip. Breathe, you think, I have to breathe. There’s nobody here but Spencer. You can show him exactly how this is making you feel.

“Fuck,” you say, letting out a little moan, worried it won’t be something he likes.

“Fuck,” he echoes emphatically, “does that feel good, angel?”

“Uh-huh,” you say. His chest shines with sweat, his cock driving in, all his touching and adoring drawing a litany of your most vulnerable sounds, hiccups and whimpers, beggy breaths that plead for him to do exactly what he’s doing until he can’t.

“Can you keep your leg up?” he asks.

“What?”

“Can you lift your leg, angel? I need my hand.”

You nod hurriedly and hold your leg aloft as he’d been, not pretzeled but giving him the room he needs to drive forward. He’s swift in his intention, pressing his free hand to your cunt, unabashed, marriage and middle finger slippery against the head of your clit and drawing precise circles. After a few timid thrusts of his hips, he matches speed. Every thrust met with a circle of your clit, his face dipping down to kiss your leg.

“There,” he says to your knee, “I got you, I’ll get you there.”

“I don’t wanna cum yet,” you confess.

“No, I know, but you have to feel good, I need to touch my girl.”

You don’t want to argue with that. He’s never said something like that.

He goes on. “You’re so pretty, I don’t know– I don’t–” He gives a tight smile, “don’t think you know how beautiful you are, you feel–” He moans, then, like he’s pleading.

You don’t expect to be close this soon. It had to be the way he’s talking to you, or his lazy mouthing at your cunt before you’d started. “Wait! Wait, Spence, don’t,” —you grab his hand to stop him from drawing anymore circles— “I have to do it, or I’m gonna cum already.”

He says fuck, thrusts in just a little deeper than he had been, head of his cock kissing just the right place, “Show me how to do it the way you need it.”

You play on the edge of your orgasm for long, long minutes, your hand over Spencer’s drawing the smallest of circles, your nerves aching, the pressure of it like his hands pressed to your tummy. Spencer fucks you, fucks into you, ruts into you when you give him a flirty smile, angling his hips a touch to the side.

You usher him down to you, craning your head up to his. “Can I have a kiss?” you ask with a voice stretched to gossamer. You’re in love with him and you could cry for it as he fucks you, but you try not to. Not yet.

Spencer licks his lips. “You can have everything.”

He slows his thrusts to a drag. Slow drag out, full push in. His hips press to yours and you squeak as he fills you with every inch he has, his hands vying for your clammy face.

He can only thrust slowly from there, though it feels like it’s hitting somewhere new, if not deeper. Shifts of his hips against yours, a mess of slick between you and the friction of his skin. You kiss and pant into each others mouths, spit stretching like a string from his lip to yours that he promptly kisses away. It’s everything you needed it to be, and you can’t hold off much longer. “Wanna cum,” you tell him, stroking the skin under his eye, his gaze aligned with yours.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Can you– like before–”

Spencer understands. He sits back, drags you by the hips onto his cock, and set about fucking that dedicated pace, three fingers pressed to your clit. He goes as slowly as you showed him at first, and that in time with his thrusts sends a pleasure through you that makes you gasp. He speeds his hips at the same time as his fingers, your skin so wet that it requires dedication to wind the coil, but he does wind it, over and over and over again until your walls are rigid tight and your hips are working desperately to chase the feeling. He’s pushing you to the edge.

You cum, and your breath gets caught. You force out a breath and you keen in the feeling, covering your face with both hands as Spencer pushes you through it with a few last teasing circles and a couple of quick thrusts.

Spencer knows without asking to slow as you come down. You laugh into your hands.

He doesn’t quibble when you let your legs fall flat around him, only strokes your thigh, paused half inside of you to offer you one of his shy smiles. “You even sound pretty,” he says.

“You think so?”

“Of course I do.”

He takes a measured thrust. He’s not not confident these days, but you can see the man you adore now between your legs, in love with you but not sure what to do. “You can keep going, baby.”

“You sure?” he asks.

It’s gonna be intense, but you want that. “Come back,” you say, angling your tired legs around him. “Come lay on top of me… Please.”

It’ll be nice to hug him now. You whine as his cock slips out of you and again as he lays atop you and slides it back in, your cunt waiting for him and slick as anything as he settles.

“Is this too much?” he asks, cupping your cheek.

He rolls his hips demonstratively. You didn’t know there was anything left there to give him, but he can have it.

You wrap your arms around him, your forearms to the line of sweat on his back, and give him a hard hug. “You can have everything,” you utter, repeating his earlier promise to him with the same encapsulating love as you cling. “Fuck me however you want.”

When it starts again, chills ride up your spine. Spencer finds a place you didn’t know you had and fucks against it with love, so deep you feel like you can’t breathe, his nose rubbing harshly into your cheek. He squeezes your shoulders tight in his arms and you’re sure you’ll never catch your breath again, and you don’t want him to stop. You’ve never felt this close to him.

Your naked chest rises uselessly beneath him as you fall into the whining, pleading bit of sex, your moans half gasp and lost in his hair as he burrows his face into the pillow by your head to hide his same desperation.

“There you are,” he mumbles, hips grinding into yours. He must say your name ten times in a row, each one more frayed than the last, until he’s lost it completely.

“Go faster, sweetheart,” you suggest, squeezing his hips between your thighs.

Spencer begins again in earnest, nipping crescent moons into the curve of your neck, thrusting fast until he can’t. You hear him trip into cumming like it’s an accident, his thighs go all tense and his cock throbs as he presses you flat, flat to the bed.

He gives a last few greedy thrusts before he calms, though he doesn’t stop moving. Spencer rolls his hips for a slow, languishing minute.

His hand finds your shoulder. His face turns to yours as you turn yours to his, two halves of a good kiss.

“I love you,” you whisper.

He’s panting, but his reciprocation is immediate. “I love you more.”

“No, you don’t.”

Spencer lifts himself up enough to wrap his arms behind your head, almost framing your head where you’re laid underneath him. “Trust me, I do.” His eyes shutter. You close your own in wait of another kiss, but he’s sliding the tip of his nose down the bridge of your own. He draws a circle, draws soft lines over your cheek in zigzags.

“Tell me what to do now,” he murmurs.

You scratch his back lightly. “Aw, Spencer, just keep doing this.”

—

Spencer cleans you up and you finally cry, a couple of tears you’re hoping he won’t notice as he drops the towel on your leg. He holds you with his hand behind your back and murmurs words too nice for such silly tears into your cheek, before asking, scared, if he’d hurt you.

“No, no, it’s like the most intense relief in the world!” you tell him, selfishly basking in the muscle of arms where they’re wrapped around you, and his silky hair whispering over your ear. “I feel amazing.”

“I didn’t think you’d be one of the women who cry afterward,” he says. He’s not judging you, simply sharing an observation. It makes sense. You’re not usually emotional in such an unconstrained way.

“I’m really happy.” You pinch his chin mildly.

“Your legs are hurting.”

You let him go. “Yeah, a bit. It’s a nice hurting. Like we went for a really long walk.”

He takes your face into both hands and tips your head back. You’re slouched forward, he’s straight-backed, and he’s taller where he’s grinning at you. His hand comes to rest against one of your breasts, giving it a little cup before he presses it flat over your heart. “I thought you were never gonna calm down.”

“You have that effect on people.”

“Maybe that’s true for you,” he says, tapping your nose with his, encouraging you to lift your chin. “But only one person’s ever made me lose my breath like that,” he adds, your lips touching, not kissing.

You could keep him forever. “Think we should turn our phones back on?” you ask.

“When I’ve made you something to drink, sure. And found you something to wear, right? It’s too cold.”

You’re still hot enough to cook an egg, but you let him take care of you. It’s as good as being fucked, being adored when it’s done. He gives you underwear first, a soft tank top and a pair of panties you’d left here before and he’d washed and pressed, your sweetheart. You’re surprised he doesn’t help you into them, but you notice with fond bemusement that he’s cringing as he steps into a fresh pair of boxers.

“You okay, handsome? Did you tweak something?”

He’s in pants before you realise, standing shirtless with sex-tousled hair. You could ask him back to bed if you weren’t exhausted. “I’m not in shape.”

“I could say otherwise.”

Spencer’s on top of you again in an instant. He sits on your naked leg and pulls down your rising tank top before twinging your hands in his. He’s practically in your lap as he kisses your chin. It’s that earnest you end up giggling, lovestruck, two idiots holding hands. He steals a couple of lazy kisses. You can’t remember how many you’ve had anymore.

“You’re contrary,” he says as he pulls away.

“Can’t you be nice to me? You were acting so nice.”

He slides off of your leg. “You’re my best friend. I hope we’re this happy for the rest of our lives.”

You fist your hand in the rumpled sheets behind you. He’s apparently unaware he’s said the most special thing he could’ve, opening his closet door to retrieve your pyjamas from the shelf he dedicated to you the first time you slept over. You are best friends, is the best part. He’s not exaggerating.

Before he’d ever kissed you, you were in love. You’ve been in love for years.

Spencer drops your pyjamas next to you on the bed. “You want me to help you put them on?”

You have no reason to need help tonight, but you want it. “Yes, please. Can you rub my back after?”

“Yesss. I’d love to rub your back. If we maintain our physical connection after sex, it enhances the relaxing factor but it also prolongs the effect of the oxytocin and dopamine your brain would’ve released when we were–” He picks up your sleep shirt and shakes it out. “Well, you know.”

“Any more sex facts for me?”

Spencer has the nerve to blush, considering the way he’d spoken to you only ten minutes ago. “An orgasm as a woman can lower your risk of heart disease, breast cancer, and depression.”

You smile at him sweetly. “No kidding. How much to get that risk down to zero?”

He kisses your cheek. “You know that’s not how it works.”

“We can still try.”

“Um. Can I have a banana first?”

“I’m kidding!”

“Oh.” He gestures for you to put your arms into the sleep shirt. “Well, maybe you can have a banana too and we’ll see how we feel.”

˗ˋˏ ʚ♡ɞ ˎˊ˗

Thank you for reading!!!!! I hope you enjoyed it! please reblog or let me know what you thought if you have the time, but I hope you enjoyed regardless!

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer and bombshell reader #criminal minds #spencer reid smut

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thef1diary · 2 months ago

Text

Dreamy Desire | C. Leclerc

Kinktober 1/11 ~ Somnophilia

Summary: Even though you were in deep sleep, Charles found you irresistible.

warnings: 18+ smut, somnophilia obvs, fingering, oral, unprotected sex

wc: 1.6k

kinktober masterlist

The steady rhythm of your breathing fills the room, a gentle sound that lulls Charles into a state of restless anticipation. Moonlight spills through the window, casting a silver glow across the bed where you lie, the comforter having slipped down to reveal more of your body. Your legs are slightly spread as you shifted around in your slumber, the hem of your night slip dress riding up, exposing the delicate fabric of your panties.

He sits beside you, eyes tracing the delicate lines of your face, your slightly parted lips, down to your spread thighs.

He knows he shouldn’t, knows that waiting for you to wake up is the right thing to do. But tonight, something inside him stirs more intensely than ever before. The way you lie there, so peaceful and unaware, ignites a desire in him that’s impossible to ignore. You’ve discussed this before, shared your desires and given your consent, but Charles hadn’t been tempted until now. It’s a trust he’s grateful for, an offer he’s careful to respect even as his pulse quickens with anticipation.

Charles reaches out, fingertips brushing lightly against your cheek. Your skin is warm, soft, and he lets his hand linger, savouring the undisturbed contact. His breath catches as you shift slightly, your body responding to his touch even in deep sleep. It takes all of his self-control to keep his touch light, refraining from letting the bulge in his boxers make all the decisions.

In the quiet of the room, his mind races with thoughts of you, of how much he loves you, desires you. A smirk plays on his lips as he realizes how utterly vulnerable you are, allowing him to ruin you in any way he chooses.

His hand moves down, tracing the curve of your shoulder, then the length of your arm. He leans in, his breath warm against your neck, inhaling your subtle distinct scent. It’s intoxicating, this quiet intimacy. He presses a soft kiss just below your ear, barely more than a whisper against your skin.

Your body reacts, a shiver running through you, and Charles freezes, heart pounding. But you don’t wake. Instead, you shift again, turning slightly towards him, lips parting in a sigh. The sound is like music to his ears, and he can’t help but smile.

His hand continues its journey, removing the comforter completely before sliding his palm underneath your slip dress, lifting it higher. The warmth of your body against his palm sends a thrill through him.

Unable to resist any longer, Charles leans in, his lips brushing against your inner thigh. After peppering a few kisses, he moves higher, his kisses growing bolder as he reaches the edge of your panties. He can feel the warmth of you, the heat radiating from your core as he spots the wet patch on the flimsy fabric.

His hands slide under the hem of your dress, fingertips grazing the fabric of your panties before gently pulling them aside. The sight of you, so exposed and vulnerable, ignites a fire in him. He lowers his mouth to you, his breath warm against your skin, and begins to kiss and lick with a reverence that borders on worship.

You moan softly in your sleep, a sound that spurs him on. His tongue teases your sensitive folds, tasting you, savouring every moment. He knows your body, knows what you like, and he takes his time, enjoying the way you respond even in your unconscious state.

Your hips start to move, a natural response to his ministrations, and he can’t help but smile against you. He slips two fingers inside your cunt, the slickness and heat pulling him in. He begins to move them in and out, matching the rhythm of his tongue on your clit.

The soft sounds you make, the wet sound of your slick, the way your body reacts, it’s almost too much for him. He wants to wake you, to see your eyes filled with desire and love, but he can’t help but feel a tad bit selfish too, wanting to keep this moment for himself.

Charles continues, his mouth and fingers working in tandem to bring you pleasure. You shift around, eyes still closed, and he feels you clenching around his fingers. He knows you’re close, so he stops.

Removing his fingers and detaching his mouth from your clit, he pulls back, watching a string of spit connect to your pussy from his lips. He raises his fingers to his lips, lapping up your taste with his tongue.

He watches as your chest rises and falls, knowing you’ve fallen into the depths of sleep again. He wanted you to wake up clenching around his cock, whining and begging as soon as you woke up, which was all you were good for anyways. Always begging for him, to stuff you up with his cock. Nothing else ran through your mind, and this time he was going to prove it by waking you in that manner.

Spreading your thighs further, he shuffled up after discarding his boxers. He paused for a moment, wrapping his hand covered in your slick around his cock, moving it up and down as he admired your compliant state.

Your hardened nipples were visible through the dress hiked up to your waist, your spread thighs and wet pussy was a sight for him, and him only.

Charles takes his time, savouring the anticipation as he strokes himself, eyes locked on you. Your peaceful form is almost too much for him to bear. He loves you deeply, but in moments like these, the raw, primal desire takes over, and he can’t help but revel in it.

He leans forward, positioning himself between your legs. He teases you, running his head up and down your slit, coating himself further in your slick. You twitch, hips moving on their own accord as he pushes inside with deliberate slowness. The tightness, the warmth, it’s all so perfect, and he has to bite back a groan. Your body welcomes him, even in sleep, and he watches as your face contorts slightly with pleasure.

The feeling of you wrapped around him is intoxicating, and he takes a moment to control himself, not wanting to rush this. He starts to move, slow and deep, each thrust measured and deliberate. He can feel the tension building, knows you’re on the edge even in your sleep.

Your eyes flutter open, a soft moan escaping your lips as the sensation pulls you from your slumber. You shift slightly, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, then into his hair, pulling him closer. The look in your eyes, that hazy mix of sleep and desire, is everything he hoped for.

“Charles,” you whisper, your voice a breathy moan. “Please…”

“Shh, go back to sleep, chérie,” he mumbles, his lazy thrusts hoping to lull you back to sleep.

You try to hold onto the pleasure, but the slow, deep rhythm of his movements is soothing, making it difficult to stay awake. Your hands move through his hair, a soft, instinctual gesture that makes him shiver. Charles’s eyes remain locked on yours, filled with an intensity that speaks volumes of his desire for you.

The feeling of him inside you, the warmth and fullness, is comforting and intoxicating. Your body reacts to him, hips moving in time with his gentle thrusts, but your eyelids grow heavy, the call of sleep too strong to resist.

Charles watches as you struggle to stay awake, a small smile playing on his lips. He knows how much you crave him, how much you need this, and it only fuels his desire to give you everything you want.

“That’s it, just relax,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. “I’ve got you.”

Your grip in his hair loosens, your body melting into the mattress as you begin to drift off again. The sensation of him moving inside you, combined with the warmth of his body pressed against yours, lulls you further into the depths of sleep.

He feels you clenching around him, a sign that your body is still very much aware of his presence even as your mind slips away. Charles’ movements remain steady, the slow and deep thrusts designed to keep you on the edge of consciousness. He watches you, captivated by the way you surrender to him, trusting him completely.

As he feels your body beginning to build again towards release, he knows he’s close too. The slow, steady rhythm becomes a little more insistent, his own need becoming harder to control. He wants to feel you cum around him, to know that you’re as lost in this as he is.

His hand moves between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbing it gently, knowing exactly how to push you over the edge. Your body tenses, your breathing hitches, and he can feel you getting closer and closer.

He leans closer, whispering in your ear, “cum for me, mon amour.”

The command, mixed with the pleasure he’s giving you, is enough to send you spiraling into bliss. Your body clenches around him, and a soft cry escapes your lips as you cum.

The sensation of you tightening around him is too much for Charles. He thrusts deep one last time, his own release hitting him hard. He groans your name, his body shuddering with the force of his orgasm as he spills inside you.

As you both come down from the high, Charles kisses you softly, his lips lingering on yours. You nuzzle closer to him once he pulls back, wrapping your arms around him to keep him close. “You need to do that more often,” you say, your voice still laced with sleep.

Charles chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Anything for you, chérie.”

With a final sigh of contentment, you drift back into a deep, peaceful sleep. Your dreams and reality blur together, the only tangible evidence of your dreamy desires becoming reality are the mingled traces of your arousal and his cum slowly leaking from your cunt onto the sheets.

taglist: @cheer-bear-go-vroom @ggaslyp1 @nominsgirl @moll1701 @mrs-saturday @teamnovalak @sassy-chan @ruti26-11 @kennysimp101 @falling-feels-like-flying @laeblue @tremendousstarlighttragedy @bountychanti @savewaterdrinkvodka @cloud-55 @aarchiives @holylovercopsludge @black-fireproofs @lazydragonpeach @biancathecool @myownwritings @rebelatbay @ethereal0810 @leclercsluvs @01rrdbull @fallingforfalll2 @lilorose25

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ms-demeanor · 5 months ago

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So you know absolutely positively nothing about photography

Cellphone cameras are fucking great. I love them. I love the ability to take photos whenever and wherever at basically zero cost.

Point-and-shoot cameras have always been awesome and accessible devices.

This is not a post shit-talking "basic" cameras. This is a post for people who have only ever used basic cameras who want to know at least slightly more about photography.

Because, the thing is, a remarkable amount of photography is math. And if you don't know it's math, it looks like a mystery. And you may be standing there snapping a photo with your phone that looks pretty good, but your friend with a DSLR looked at the sky, twisted a dial, and took three steps to the left and they took a photo of the same subject that looks like it belongs on a magazine cover.

How did they do that?

Probably math.

If you've come into possession of a DSLR camera and are disappointed that the photos you're taking aren't looking like the photos you thought came from DSLRs, I'm here to tell you about the math you may not know about.

What is a photograph?

At its most basic, a photograph is the result of light on a sensor. Let's consider a pinhole camera for a moment. A pinhole camera is a lightproof box with a piece of photographic paper on one side and a tiny hole in the other.

When you create a photo with a pinhole camera, you're using pretty much all of the math you would in a big fancy camera, just in a cruder form they are:

The sensitivity of the paper, film, or camera sensor to light (this is your "ISO" if you're using a digital camera or film). Light sensitivity can be easily changed on a digital camera, but on chemical-treated paper or film the sensitivity is predetermined and cannot be changed. If you want to change the ISO on an analog camera, you need to change the medium that's being exposed.

An opening to let light in - your F-stop, or aperture. The F-stop of a photo is how wide open the lens is to let light onto your film or sensor. In a pinhole camera, you have something that is theoretically a very very large F-stop because you have a very, very tiny opening to let light through (F-stops run in reverse - the bigger the number, the smaller the opening).

Exposure - your exposure is the amount of time you leave your sensor open to the light. The majority of photos you see in the world have exposure times that are measured in tiny fractions of a second, sometimes in thousandths of a second. If you're using photo paper in your pinhole camera, you may have an exposure time of minutes rather than tiny portions of a second, but your photo exposure will still depend on how long you want to leave your "lens" open.

Focal length - your focal length is a description of the relationship of the distance between the light source and the light sensor. You can manipulate this in a pinhole camera by making the camera longer or shorter. A larger focal length means a narrower field of view - it zooms in on the subject.

A pinhole camera is the simplest camera that lets you, the photographer, control all of the elements of a photo. This is, functionally, fully manual photography.

So what's the difference between all that and a cellphone camera?

Point-and-shoot cameras like those on cellphones give the user more limited control over these settings. For instance, think of a disposable camera. On a disposable camera, the photographer has control over one setting - the ISO of the film, which they can select at purchase. They can't control how wide the lens opens or how long it stays open, and the only way they can compensate for lighting that is a poor match to the ISO is flash.

Cellphone cameras are very much like a standard point-and-shoot. By default, users point their cameras, then shoot a photo. Many cellphones have a "pro" mode that will allow the user to emulate different ISOs or f-stops, but the sensors in cellphone cameras aren't as good as the ones in camera-cameras, and the lenses are very limited as well. Some cellphone cameras and point-and-shoot digital cameras WILL allow users to set longer exposures, and many cellphone cameras have multiple lenses which does allow for some lens effects, but they don't give a huge amount of control to the user.

Okay so let's say I've got my new shiny camera, what do I need to know?

For best results, you want your ISO to match the light you're shooting in. Low ISO is for bright light, high ISO is for low light. If you wanted to take snapshots of your family outdoors at disneyland in the summer, you'd buy 100 ISO film. When I used to shoot football games at night in oddly lit stadiums, I'd use 1600 ISO film. If you have a DSLR camera, there's a setting somewhere in there that tells you how to set the ISO. If you are shooting in relatively low light and the photos are turning out darker than you'd like *but* things are moving too quickly to use a longer exposure, you can bump up your ISO for brighter, sharper images but they will be more noisy and grainy than ones shot at a lower ISO. If you want clean, smooth, crisp images, your goal should be to shoot with the lowest ISO possible.

The Aperture of your camera lens determines your F-Stop. This acts like the pupils of your eyes. When it's really really bright out, your pupils shrink down to let in less light. When it's darker out, your pupils get bigger to let in more light. If you are shooting in low light, you want a low F-Stop, which means that your camera's lens is open really wide. If you are shooting in a bright environment, you want a higher F-Stop, which will mean the opening is very small. Since your F-stop interacts with the focal length of your lens, you will find that zooming in with the lens often makes images darker. To shoot clear images from far away, you need to be very conscious of your F-stop, your ISO, and ambient lighting conditions.

Exposure describes the length of time you set the camera to leave the aperture open. In many DSLRs this can span from 1/3200th of a second to infinitely long (the "bulb" setting means "aperture is open until you close it.") If you want sharp images of frozen motion, you want the fastest speed that you can get. Sports photography and photography of things like insects or milk crowns often use extremely short exposures to get sharp images. If you want blurry images you want slower speeds. If you want to take a photo in a low-light environment and capture motion within that environment - for instance, taking photos of cars on a freeway at night - you want slower speeds (if you want to do this in a brighter environment, like taking photos of a stream in the daytime, you want slower speeds and a specific kind of lens filter called a neutral density filter). When exposures are set to be longer than about 1/60th of a second, images with motion start to look blurry.

Focal Length determines the field of view of your subject. If you have a lens with variable focal lengths, this is called a zoom lens. A longer focal length zooms you in and a shorter focal length zooms you out. Lenses with fixed focal lengths are called prime lenses, and can't zoom in or out.

Depth of Field - your depth of field is a combination of the interaction of your focal length, your distance from your subject, and your F-stop. The depth of field describes the relative amount of space in a photograph that is in focus. A long depth of field means that much of the image plane is in focus. A short depth of field means that a narrow portion of the image plane is in focus. A low F-stop produces a narrow depth of field. A long focal length produces a narrow depth of field.

You can think of your camera as a tool that measures time and space. Your ISO and Exposures are measurements of time (how quickly the sensor senses the light, how long the sensor is exposed to the light), the F-Stop and the focal length are measurements of space (how wide the aperture of the camera is, how far the lens is from the sensor).

The pre-set modes on your camera, the ones on the dial that show a person running, flower, or a cloud, or a lady with a hat - these are generic settings that combine an ISO, exposure time, and f-stop that are likely to work well for outdoor action shots, landscape photography, cloudy light, and portraits. When you're using those pre-set modes, you control the focal length and not much else.

When you understand that the running person/action mode means low-ish ISO combined with high shutter speeds, you can start just setting your own ISO and shutter speed when you're shooting sports. When you know that portrait mode sets you up for low-ish f-stops, relatively quick shutter speeds, and mid-range ISOs, you can just start setting those things on your own so you can have more control.

"What about light metering?"

Since your camera is a machine that records light, light metering is pretty important. The light meter of your camera will tell you if your settings are "correct" for the amount of that the light sensor senses. In most modern cameras there is a light metering display on the bottom edge of the viewfinder that goes from negative to positive; if the meter shows that you are in the negative it means that your photo will be under-exposed (too little light will get to the sensor and the image will appear dark), if the meter shows that you are in the positive it means that your photo will be over-exposed (too much light will get to the sensor and the image will appear too bright - "blown out"). The way to correct for under or over exposure is to change the length of the exposure, making it longer for underexposed images and shorter for overexposed images.

What the light meter is doing is thinking about all of your settings and the lighting for you. It looks at the ISO, focal length, f-stop, light hitting the sensor, and planned exposure time and tells you what that combination of settings is likely to produce - something too bright, or something too dark.

When you are more experienced with photography, you get good at juggling these things on the fly and messing around with them more, which is how you can do the magic of looking at the sky, twisting a dial, taking three steps to the left, and knocking it out of the park with a picture.

It only looks like magic because you're doing a ton of math under the hood that is extremely non-obvious to people who are new to photography.

Anyway, here is a good guide to depth of field and what goes into it.

Here is a basic photography textbook that explains the principles that I've gone over here in a lot more detail with a lot better explanations. It's a film photography textbook, but one of the cool things about photography is that a lot of stuff from the analog era is still relevant in the digital area, and the basics haven't changed.

However all of that is about the *technical* aspects of photography. Photography isn't just a record of exposure time and focal length, so here's a basic photo composition textbook that talks about the artistic principles of photography.

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h0ttestgrlinm0urgu3 · 10 months ago

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𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔶 𝔭𝔦𝔫𝔨 𝔟𝔬𝔴

𝖍𝖊��𝖗𝖞 𝖈𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

summary [henry let's you play with bows and you get carried away]

warnings [smut, mouth stuff🎀, bimbo~ish ig, no p in v, pet names, soft dom henry🎀]

being the type of girl you were you loved ribbons and bows. they weren't something you indulged in often as a child, growing up in the country and all, but once you got older you feel in love with them.

you'd put them everywhere, in your hair, on your clothes, there's even some on your walls and others tied around stuffed bears.

Henry had recently gotten you these really cute ribbon bow clips and you were currently sitting beside him putting them in his hair. he's not really paying attention to you, he's used to this kind of treatment and just sat scrolling on his phone. you dropped one of the clips from his hair and in to his lap. as you go to reach for it a thought flashes in your mind. 'can I put a bow on your dick?' you ask your boyfriend after retrieving the clip.

you see the way henry freezes and hurriedly say 'not these, like ribbon' you clear up. he lets out a breath and laugh before looking at you 'I was scared for a sec baby' he says tucking a peice of hair behind your ear making you smile. he returns your smile and leans in for a kiss. 'of course I'll let my pretty girl dress me up' henry says sitting back up with the clips still in his hair.

so excited you jump up and let out a squeal 'omg yay' you scream about to go into you and Henry's shared room for some ribbon. turning to him before you go saying 'don't get hard' which earns you an eye roll as you leave 'you wanna do it or not' he mumbles as your walking but you hear.

in the room your trying to figure out what color ribbon you wanted. you got it down to pink and purple, so you bring them out to henry. 'which one do you want?' you question, you sit beside him on the couch, getting comfortable with your upper half mostly on his lap. 'whatever matches my hair' he says as he scrolls through something.

you go with the pink since he had pink in his hair. unzipping his jeans and pulling his cock out your really happy to see the he wasn't hard. it might sound odd but you liked playing with his soft cock. cutting the ribbon to length before throwing everything on to the floor. you start to tie the ribbon at the base of his dick, humming to yourself as henry continued on his phone, you could care less.

looking down at the pretty pink bow you made your so proud in your self. you let out a giggle in excitement and notice the way Henry's cock twitched when you laughed. your mouth begin to water. trying something else you lightly blow making it twitch again.

you mouth became the ocean and you desperatly needed to taste him. opening your mouth and letting droll drip onto the head of his cock before lowering your head and licking it up. 'ohh fuck baby' henry moans out at the unexpected pleasure, finally placing his attention on you.

you take the tip of this cock in your mouth savering the taste of him. opening your mouth wider you take his full soft length in. feeling the bow brush against your lips. feeling him swell you come up for air letting out a little whine at the fact that this is the first time he's ever fully fit in your mouth, and it's because hes never let you suck it soft. and it's not gonna last much longer, but you'll enjoy having him in your mouth either way.

looking up to meet his gaze he grips your jaw and squeezes your cheecks together. sticking out your tounge he roughly brings you up for a sloppy kiss, gripping the back of your scalp. he breaks the kiss to leave kisses all over your face before letting you go back down to his cock, which is now fully hard.

bow intact.

you lick from the base to the tip repetadly. bringing your focus more to the head of his cock you bring one hand to the base and the other to his balls. 'fuck baby you know daddy likes that' he moans out as his hips buck forcing the tip of his cock all the way into your mouth. you gag a little before you adjust to it returning to your pace.

henry looks down to the ungodly display infornt of him. you desperatly sucking his cock, pretty hands playing with his balls with a pretty pink ribbon rapped around his cock, your eyes are watery, the floor beneath you full of droll and pre cum. your looking up to him eyes glossed over moaning every so often telling him just how much you love his cock.

'ahh- fuckk, baby im gonna cum' he moaned out. forcing the rest of his cock into your moth and down your throat henry couldn't hold back any longer. his cum being forced down your throat and falling from the sides of your mouth around his cock getting your bow all dirty. removing him from your mouth with a giggle and a smile so happy that you grew into loving bows.

[a/n: this randomly came to me and I wrote it right away so if it's bad blame it on that. 🎀]

#henry cavill #clark kent #bimbo reader #black fanfic writer #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x black reader #x black fem reader #clark kent x reader #henry cavill smut #bd/sm kink #bd/sm daddy #smut #clark kent smut #coquette #girlblogging #daddy's good girl

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peachpitfics · 5 months ago

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Endgame

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: Six years after you were married off to your Father's friend, you enter a period of mourning. As soon as it is societally acceptable, Benedict Bridgerton is in your foyer with a bouquet of flowers, amending a mistake he made all those years ago.

Length: 3.8k

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Content Warnings: Death, mentions of sex work, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), orgasm.

a/n: This is part iii to Wildest Dreams & Loml, requested by anon here! This is the final part!

Bridgerton master list (tag list)

Your father stood acrost from you, tears in his eyes, which seemed genuine, though they did leave you confused. He was more devastated by your elderly husband’s death than you were – they had been friends a very many years, even with an age gap between them. It was six years since you were married to Lord Roger Howard, six of the most gruelling years of your life, pretending to care remotely for such a wretched man.

“I apologise for this display” Father wiped his tears from his eyes.

“Fret not, he was your friend after all” You replied nonchalantly, your father never caring enough to pay attention to your words, let alone the tone of your voice. He nodded sadly, blowing his nose in his handkerchief and stuffing it back into the waistcoat pocket.

“Your mother is thrilled at the prospect of you coming home” He asserted.

The shock of his audacity displayed in full force upon your face, “This is my home, I will not be returning to your house in Mayfair. I have an estate to care for until its heir comes of age” You shot back at him, far surer and more confident in your own voice than you had been when he bullied you into a match you did not want.

His weepy eyes filled with exasperation, you were not sure anyone had ever spoken back to him in such a manner, it sure looked as though they hadn’t. He stuttered over jumbled consonants, words unforming as they bowled out of his mouth. Never in your young life had you seen your father so beside himself, so baffled.

“Is there something you wish to say?” You asked brashly.

Stern eyebrows grew rigid over his unpredictable eye line, “How disrespectful! I do not recall raising a child with such an attitude! You will do as your father tells you, and your father demands you return to Mayfair” He almost shouted, the corrosive tone of his voice scared you as a child, even just a few years ago; but he had set you on a journey down Dante’s nine rings of hell. No longer afraid of small men feigning omnipotence in comparison to you, your father was no better nor worse than the husband you had just lost.

Your harsh statuette figure remained still and unblinking, unimpressed by his temper tantrum. Sweat formed on his brow line, rage simmering just below the surface. He was a volcano, ready to erupt in exaggerated self-importance. “It is obvious to me that perhaps you are confused. I was married to Lord Howard; I am Dowager Lady Howard. I do not belong to you, nor am I required to hear this nonsense any longer. I have land, and staff to account for. I will be remaining here. Would you like me to escort you out?” You asked calmly, your heart thumping in your chest, prepared for his next outrageous onslaught.

Father shuffled on the spot, puffed-up and fragile, dancing between continuing this argument, or storming out of the room. With a defeated, heavy exhale, he turned swiftly on the ball of his foot and stomped down the stairs. Staff peered around corners, having heard the yelling, worried for your safety.

Making your way out to the landing, subtly triumphant smile on your face, you watched as your father barged past someone standing in the foyer. You could not believe your eyes, unsure now of whether this was a dream or not. Benedict Bridgerton stood tall in the foyer, a big bunch of flowers in his arms, side eying your father as he passed. He looked just like you remembered, just like you imagined him every day since you last saw him. His eyebrows high, his crowning glory, that cheeky smile adorned on his face. There were small changes, delicious smile lines around his mouth and across his forehead. He looked neat, and very well dressed – you thought perhaps he finally had taken some advice from Anthony. The door slammed violently, and Benedict jumped slightly, pursing his lips together in a look of amusement.

“Mr Bridgerton, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” You hummed in soft interrogation.

“I have come to offer my condolences” Benedict tried to wipe the smile from his face.

“Alas, it has been six whole months since my husband passed away. Would you not consider these condolences to be quite late?” You retorted audaciously.

“One… might consider my visit late, yes. However, I do believe I am right on time. I would like to point out that it is but seven hours into a societally acceptable visit for a single man to call on a widow” He feigned checking his pocket watch, nearly dropping the bouquet on the floor, beaming at you as you started descending the stairs. Rushing down the stairs with enthusiasm, you threw yourself into his arms, flowers crushed between your bodies as your kiss landed. There was that sense of delirium you had missed so dearly. Your stomach dropped excitedly, your heart skipped a beat, your smile uncontainable as he pulled you into him tighter and tighter.

“Worried I would not come?” He asked between kisses, his eyes joyously lit.

“Not one bit” You groaned as his teeth took your lip, sucking it into his mouth, “Come upstairs”.

Benedict took your hand in his, leading you to the only place he knew well in this house, your bedroom. It was strange feeling this way after so long, so much glee in such a solemn house. You had not a care in the world at this moment, everything was finally right as it should have been.

Shutting the door forcefully, Benedict grasped at your arms and pulled you toward the bed, shifting behind you to undress you. Not a second later, Benedict gripped two sections of material and reefed them apart, tearing your dress from your body, his clamorous grunt igniting something within you. The fabric fell to the ground around you in a pool, embarrassment telling you to turn to Benedict, but his forceful hands stilled you where you were. Bending you forward, you rested your elbows onto the bed, the sound of his breeches unbuttoning behind you made your mouth water, wonderment tensing your mind.

Kneeling behind you, Benedict pressed his finger to your pussy, sliding it in as slowly as possible, coaxing soft moans from your lips. You so greatly wanted to spin around, eager to see what he was up to.

“God you are so wet and ready for me” Benedict commended, slipping that same finger between his lips, sucking the taste of you off it, moaning in unbridled thirst for you. Benedict’s hands snapped to your hips grasping at generous handfuls, reefing you back into him, running the tip of his cock along you.

He plunged into you without a moments notice, sinking to extremity unexpectedly. Gasping in wretched recognition as your body adjusted, his velvet skin sliding in and out of you, images flashed through your mind of all the times you had done this before. His large hands slid into the pocket between your belly and your hips, thumbs goading you back into him, savouring every thrust back into you. Benedict laced into your hair, firmly pulling you back to meet him, the starving kiss in his arsenal his best yet. That is what it had felt like, these last two years in particular – like surviving in a baron desert, aridity only quenched by a singular person, and that person being unattainable.

Benedict’s hardness sunk into you again and again, particularly rigid on this occasion, you did not recall him filling you quite this much, but every moment was felt like a spiritual experience. His thrusts became vigorous, and he had that look in his eye that you knew all too well, his efforts quickly moving toward fruition. His pelvis slammed into yours with the most gloriously barbaric force, his moans and grunts animating, pleasure absolutely carved throughout his body and face. The eagerness of his movements made you squeal out as he reached deeper places, you hips bounced back encouraging his release inside of you. Benedict’s hands constricted in place; his body unyielding as waves of intensity rolled through him.

Desperately trying to inhale deeper breaths, Benedict rolled onto the bed next to you, stretching out his arms as if he had a stitch in his chest. You giggled at him, lying down too.

“Not as young as you once were?” You chortled.

Benedict flashed you a look of sunny offense, “If I… could breathe… right now, you’d be paying… for that comment…” Benedict chuckled through his panting. You placed your hand on his chest, feeling his heart thump against your hand, your eyes went wide with awe.

After catching his breath, you laid together in the bed for the rest of the day, slipping in and out of each other and conversation. Benedict was enjoying exploring your body again, as it had been two years and another child later.

“I cannot believe we are finally here” Benedict chuffed, his head resting on your navel, staring up at the ceiling.

“Six years later, my darling. To be fair, we did think we would be apart longer” You remarked.

Benedict paused, fingers circling your forearm wrapped over him, “Y/n… There are rumours circulating the Ton…” He uttered kindly, approaching with gentility.

“I suppose you should know what happened to Roger,” You sighed, more embarrassed for yourself than for the old codfish, “I received news six months previous, that Roger had passed at an establishment… during intercourse with a working woman” You pursed your lips together, trying not to laugh. This was the first time you had explained the situation out loud, to anyone at all. The hilarity was not lost on you, but it felt wrong for the widow to relish the death of her husband outwardly, no matter the kind of man he was.

Benedict was silent for a few more moments, his eyes squinting in reserve, white flashes of teeth peeking through his lips, trying his hardest not to burst into laughter. “At least, he died doing what he loved?” Benedict knew he could hold up the façade no longer, resigning to his impish personality, eliciting a perpetual and free laugh from you. You ruffled his hair merrily, giving playful shoves for saying something so outrageous.

“Perhaps so! It is difficult to explain to the children, not that he had much interest in them anyway. I am hoping they will adjust quickly; they are quite young still” You gave Benedict a gentle smile. You knew he had been waiting to bring up the children, only having seen them a handful of times over the last 5 years.

“When can I see them?” Benedict asked keenly.

“Their nanny took them for a walk in the gardens when I was informed my father was on the grounds… He is not particularly fond of them either” You shrugged, “They will surely be returning soon” You reached out to stroke Benedict’s face, his excitement uncontainable.

Benedict continued to talk about the children, taking guesses at their heights and how they walked. He asked about their favourite foods and favourite colours, he wanted to know everything. More than anything, he had wanted to be there to see them grow and change. He had spent their lives memorising details in letters, their descriptions and little personalities, so desperate to know them. Benedict was recently thrilled to learn that Benjamin had lost his very first tooth at just five years old. He was also filled with pride when you wrote of Beatrice climbing down the stairs for the first time, all be herself – she was three now and while Benedict felt like he had missed so much, he knew how much more there was to come, that he would get to be a part of.

“My apologies, I am just overjoyed to finally be here” Benedict’s eyes watered lightly.

“Do not apologise, they will be excited too, you know they love you” You smiled, wiping away his singular tear. You leant down to place a kiss on his forehead, which he intercepted, stealing yours lips away with his own, warm and full.

Benedict rolled onto his front, lifting your thigh over him and snuggling himself between your legs. His nose rested in your tangle of pubic hair, nudging gently at your slit. Without meaning to, you laid back in anticipatory relaxation, Benedict’s arms wrapping around your thighs.

“You are unreasonably delicious my love” Benedict moaned from between your thighs.

His fingers danced around your outer flesh, tickling and pleasing strokes slowly replaced by his tongue, wet and pleasantly heated. Your eyes rolled back in your head, your lung’s feeling collapse was just moments away. It had been so long, and you were well and truly voracious for him, you had thought about this every single day.

Writhing under his ministrations, Benedict gently lapped at your clitoris, hardly touching it at times. You whimpered in hopeless desperation as he teased and circled exactly where you wanted him to press. There was no doubt Benedict was a connoisseur at this fine art and you were thankful for it. His hands slid up under your behind, lifting you up and into his face, you gave a slight squeal at his strength. The smile in his eyes melted your core, watching the lower half of his face flex and move, buried in your pussy. With every flick of his tongue, every suck of his lips, you could not stop yourself from grinding back onto his face.

Your face strained, trying to conceal the loudest moans these walls would have heard, Benedict’s ravenous tongue lapping senselessly, your knees shaking either side of him. Every moan from Ben vibrated through you, your hand flew violently to the back of his head, demanding more and more of him. Sucking your clit between his lips insistently, his teeth grazing your sensitive nub, Benedict allowed you to orgasm. Your hips bucked against his face, the hot friction of his stubbled face a godly addition to your unleashing.

Remaining still, Benedict’s soft eyes peered up at you, taking in every moment of your completion, committing it all to memory. You could tell just by the look in his eyes that you were a transcendent idol, sent here only for him. His tongue dallied, sensually slipping between your lips a last few times before he released your thighs.

“God, I love it when you do that!” You almost yelled in exotic delight.

“You taste marvellous, truly otherworldly. I could spend the rest of my life tending to you like that” Benedict smiled widely, subtly licking around his mouth to take in the rest of you.

You remained on the flat of your back, drunk on your adoration of him, “I wish you would” You laughed, half joking. It occurred to the both of you at separate times, that there was no longer a need to rush, nor savour these moments. There was nothing to keep you apart any longer, no one to hide from.

Benedict suggested bathing before dinner, so you loosely dressed, calling for the housekeeper to fetch the ladies’ maids to sort some baths. Once the both of you were dressed and ready for dinner, you descended the stairs, you arm linked over his, his gentlemanly stature reinstated upon leaving the bedroom.

The children sat on the rug in the dining room, surrounded by the petals of the flowers Benedict had arrived with this morning. Benjamin looked up, playful excitement lighting his face as he noticed the two of you.

“Mama!” He exclaimed, running into your legs, wrapping his small arms around them.

“Good evening my boy” You hummed, bending down to swoop him up into your arms. Benjamin remembered Benedict from visits previously, but he had not been around in some time. He outstretched his tiny hand, offering a handshake to his father. His sweet little teeth biting into his bottom lip, the centre one missing.

“Are you going to be staying for tea?” He asked curiously, the way children do.

“Yes, my small friend, I am,” Benedict took his hand and shook it properly, “My name is Ben, I do not know if you remember me”.

“My name is Ben as well” Benjamin gasped in innocent surprise. Without thinking, you passed your five-year-old son over to his father as they continued to talk, Benedict instinctually taking him on his hip, just like he had Gregory and Hyacinth not all that long ago. You travelled across the room to Beatrice, who gathered handfuls of pink rose petals and threw them into the air above her head, clapping as they rained down upon her. You scooped your smallest child into your chest, meeting Benedict and Benjamin at the table, placing her in her little chair. Her dark curls framing her face in sweet disposition, she waved happily to the strange man at the table. As the staff served dinner, Benedict took his place at the head of the table, with encouragement from you. You could see joy filling him right to the brim, happiness pouring out of him without a hint of regret. This was what you had both worked for. The housekeeper stopped by you on her way back to the kitchen, gently pinching your cheeks just like a mother would, she had not seen you smile like this in such a long, long time.

The family spent one week together at the estate before Benedict thought it was time to travel to Mayfair, to tell him family of this news. He was not sure how they would handle him marrying a widow, nowhere on his list of objectives was there a point to explain the children and why they looked like him. Benedict had slotted into their lives perfectly and without incident, the children already slipping and calling him father at times. His heart nearly beat right out of his chest with pride.

Arriving at the Bridgerton house, Benedict carried Bea on his hip from the carriage, entering to his family waiting in the entrance hall eagerly awaiting whatever the news in his letters could be.

The first thing Benedict noticed before he had even introduced his family, was his mothers all knowing smile, and the happiness reflected in her eyes.

“Family, this is Lady Y/n Howard, and we are to be married” Benedict announced loudly, a slight echoing ringing through the entrance hall. Anthony and Collins eyes bounced between Benedict and each other, confusion ruling their faces. Everyone else littered them with congratulatory hugs and kisses.

“And who are these darlings?” Violet came forward, kissing Benedict and reaching out to rub Beatrice’s small hands on his chest.

“This is Beatrice, and this young man is Benjamin” Benedict introduced his children to his mother, watching her crouch down to take Benjamins outstretched hand for a handshake.

“How gorgeous! What a fine gentleman” Violet’s smile was sunlight, her demeanour so utterly welcoming. Beatrice leaned out of Benedict’s arms, shuffling herself across to Violet’s chest, snuggling into her grandmother. The both of you knew then that Violet had caught on as she rocked gently from side to side, Beatrice fitting perfectly in her arms as all the Bridgerton babes had before.

“Please, come to the sitting room, I will fetch the tea” Hyacinth directed everybody up the stairs to the second floor. As you and Benedict were about to follow behind the children and the other Bridgerton siblings, Colin and Anthony sequestered your arms away to an adjacent room.

Anthony closed the double doors to the dining room, and benedict slid his hand into yours in solidarity. Colin circled the both of you like a shark in open water, his normally cheery face overrun with suspicion. Anthony frowned pensively in front of you, rubbing his face, well and truly confused.

“This is all happening rather fast, do you not think?” Anthony asked sceptically.

Benedict licked his lips in preparation, “Brother, you know I was in love with y/n all those years ago. We have simply reconnected since the very sad death of her late husband” Benedict portrayed the sympathetic friend, the shoulder to cry on in a time of need.

“I see, and your engagement taking in place exactly six months after the death of Lord Howard is simply a coincidence?” Anthony questioned, logical suspicion stirring up his role as caretaker of the family.

“Yes. Benedict was very considerate, giving me my time to grieve my husband before coming to visit and offer his condolences. It can be quite confronting when one is bombarded with flowers and well wishes all but a day after a loss” You lamented, doing your best to act your part, the sullen widow.

Anthony nodded, having experienced such a similar event after the death of their father Edmund, “I understand, I am glad that you have reconnected with each other after all these years… I do just have one more question, and I will only ask once. I do not wish to offend you, however if I found out either of you had anything to do with the death of Lord Howard, I –”

“Lord Howard died in the bed of a prostitute” You blurted out, interrupting Anthony quite rudely. He was inferring the two of you had murdered Lord Howard for his estate and potentially as a crime of passion. That was not the case, your true secret seemed to be thoroughly unnoticed by the eldest brother.

Anthony and Colin stood side by side, their mouths gaping at the same time, blinking in uneasy embarrassment. There had been several rumours circulating the Ton regarding the death of Lord Howard, this was not the one they had expected to be true. Anthony snapped back to reality, shutting his mouth and nodding uncomfortably. He gestured toward the door, Benedict pulling you out of the room, heading for the stairs.

“It is strange… Those kids look a lot like Ben” Colin muttered to Anthony as they followed on behind you, not a far distance away. Benedict turned and met Anthony’s gaze in his peripheral as the whole thing dawned on the eldest Bridgerton boy. Dropping your hand, Benedict darted up the stairs, headed for the safety of his mother.

“Benedict, get back here!?” Anthony shouted, the vein in his forehead violently protruding, he stormed up the stairs after Ben.

Colin slipped into the space Benedict left, holding out his arm for you to take, “Come on, I’ll show you to the sitting room. They are going to be a while. At least you will not have to endure two dead husbands… Anthony’s going to kill him before he gets to the altar” Colin chuckled, your arm clinging to his as he escorted you up the stairs.

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

Tag list: @cringycat24 // @blckbarbiedoll // @freyagallileaevans // @junkie05 // @rosabeetroot // @flamewriterr // @marvelouslyme96 // @moreover-clover // @dollarstore-lydia-deetz // @newavenger // @lifealot // @rosie-posie08 // @saintmagx // @booknerdlifelover // @impala1967666 // @mmmunson // @riseupfromthemud // @tehkairuu //

If you would like to be tagged in Bridgerton fanfiction written by me, please let me know!

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hlfmoonshine · 8 months ago

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"in my defense, he started out really sweet." it wasn't much of a defense, was it? logan's light nudge was enough to bring her smile back. not quite a sunny day but like overcast with a surprise of sunshine. she almost forgot what standing in the sunlight was like, left under the cover of stormy skies for too long. "it would have been, but i dated women exclusively to spite her back then, and i haven't talked to her in nearly a decade now." she didn't mind talking about this part, about her parents, that was all her childhood had been. the drama, the scandal, the fact that her father ran, as did the priest. it took her mother three years to finally move them out of their tiny irish down and skip across the pond. "see, roller derby sounds my speed. i think i just like people fighting? it's embarrassing, but i think i just like the idea of someone willing to fight for me?" her blush was easy to mask this time, the cover of night, the dim glow through the sliding door and alcohol enough to cover it. "wait, a premier? don't you have—literally anyone but a stranger you're just meeting to bring with you? i'm honored, of course, but i have to imagine you have more important people."

"that is very bisexual of you, i will say. i know so many bisexual women who go for the most toxic dudes and dykes." she leaned forward to nudge her, an attempt to make her feel better if she even could. either way, she nodded along with the story and outwardly cringed at the reveal. not everyone could be like her parents or her best friend's / baby daddy's. "shit, dude. guess it's easier for her to see you with a dude, then?" should she be prying into this new friend's life? maybe not. but as she kept drinking, she was caring less and less about etiquette. the little angel on her shoulder telling her to go home, to not start developing feelings for a taken woman with a lot of baggage... and yet. "alright, so what you said sounded foreign to me. the closest sport i've ever gotten to is roller derby... which, i guess there's both skating...?" she gave tate a sheepish look. "then let me take you to one. it just so happens that i have a premiere i gotta show up at next weekend. if you're free... it'd be nice to have a friend come with me."

#t. o'brien #tate & logan #caeruleums #i can't help the length #do not ever feel you have to match

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obsessivevoidkitten · 1 year ago

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A Day In Blood-Swell Swamp

Yandere Frog Hybrid x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Noncon, non-human genitalia, oviposition, general yandere behavior, misunderstanding, reader stuck in mud) Word Count: 1.7k (The yandere in this is a cinnamon roll. A real sweetie. Needed another one like him. He misread the reader's intent and is not at all a bad guy. Really hope you guys like him)

You were an artist on a mission. You were traveling all over your country to sketch the flora, fauna, and landscapes of various habitats. You had already visited several different forests and a couple of prairies.

Now you found yourself in Blood-Swell Swamp. The waters of the swamp were a deep red color. Many people in nearby towns were superstitious about the place and its odd colored water, but you knew it was just a combination of iron filled water and algae.

You rowed the tiny boat you had purchased and found a dry outcrop of trees overlooking the water logged scenery.

When you looked at the impressive sanguine waters and wetland forest sprawling out in front of you, you knew you had made the right decision.

You got out and tied the boat to a tree, the waters were still, but better safe than sorry.

Once you decided on a good spot to look at you pulled out your sketchbook. The first thing you sketched was a frog on a lily pad beside a blooming water lily. The next thing was a cluster of unique purple flowers.

After that you began the larger task of drawing the landscape as a whole.

You had just about finished when you heard a splash and then an enthusiastic male voice behind you.

"HI!!!"

You turned around and almost fell over. If the sudden presence of an unknown man behind you hadn’t been enough to scare you, the fact that he wasn’t human would have.

He was crouched down on very athletic looking legs, wearing nothing but a loincloth. He had long webbed toes and fingers that matched, though he only had four fingers. His mouth was a bit too long and his eyes were large and purple. He was a bit shorter than you but he clearly had a strong and compact body.

But the most odd thing was the color of his skin. He was a deep cherry red with the color transitioning into blue on his arms and legs past his elbows and knees.

His medium length black hair dripped as he tilted his head and spoke again.

“Hello? Are you okay? What are you doing?”

You collected yourself, still frightened by his appearance despite his so far friendly demeanor.

“Uh…”

“Are you okay??”

You flinched backwards as he stepped towards you. He stopped approaching as he noticed you were uncomfortable.

“I just… never saw a… what you are before…”

“Oh! Well I am a frogkin. I have seen a human or two before, but only from a distance.”

You were about to respond but he cut you off, he seemed to be really excited to have someone to chat with.

“My name is Cobi, what’re you called?”

You mentally scolded yourself for your rude and frightened demeanor and forced yourself to calm down and introduce yourself. You were in his territory after all, and he had been nothing but polite to you. You gave him your name and explained to him that you were an artist there to sketch the beauty of the swamp. You showed him your sketches.

“Oh wow, we don’t have any artists here. I have never even heard of sketches. We have some wall paintings in some of our huts, but nothing like this!”

The frog man was clearly impressed.

“Oh, I couldn’t live without being able to draw all the beauty around me. Hey, could I draw you? Just a quick sketch!”

If the skin on his face wasn’t already red you would have been able to see that he was blushing. If you drew beautiful things then that must mean you thought he was beautiful. The notion made his heart flutter.

“S-sure!” Cobi said in his ever chipper voice.

You spent some time sketching him, despite your original plan to get just a quick one in, he happily let you get a couple extra. One with him in the water and one of him crouched on a dead log.

When you finished your sketching you fished some sandwiches out of your backpack and offered one to Cobi. He took it and sniffed inquisitively trying to figure out what it was.

“It’s food, it’s called a sandwich.” You took a few bites of yours and then he took a few cautious nibbles before his eyes lit up and he stuffed the whole thing in his mouth at once. You had to stifle a laugh.

"Thank you, that was super yummy!"

Cobi was blushing more. You drew him because you thought he was beautiful. Attractive. And now you gave him food. Surely that meant you were interested in him right? People of the swamp didn’t just give food away! You gave food to those you liked. Friends, family, and potential mates you were courting!

Even if it was subconscious you probably were trying to court him. And he really wanted to explore the possibility of being your partner too, you were so kind and interesting.

But he didn't want to jump the gun and assume before he had a bit more solid evidence. So instead of asking or acting on what he felt all the evidence pointing to he just hung around and chatted with you a bit more while you finished your meal.

You finished your food slowly, enjoying your time getting to know the inquisitive frogkin. You answered all of his seemingly inexhaustible supply of questions.

When you finished and said your goodbyes he seemed sad, but you were a traveler. You couldn't really make lasting friendships. And then, when you started to get up, you fell right over your own feet. Your arm stuck in some thick mud with your face low to the ground and your ass pointed up.

And that was all the confirmation Cobi needed. Ass up and presenting. The universal signal to breed!

If you had been able to see his face you would have seen that he was flustered beyond measure. You were also far too preoccupied to notice what Cobi was muttering.

"Oh... well I thought that maybe you just wanted to c-court and get to know one another better... I thought.. I j-just um... well it's just that... I-I have never even done it before... but... it seems like you really want to..."

Despite it being a bit fast he supposed he had become quite smitten with you. And, well, maybe humans coupled faster than frogkin. And he really didn't want to hurt you or offend you!

"O-okay, I'll do it!" He exclaimed loudly.

You were finally almost out of the muck and were about to ask him what he was going to do when he suddenly pulled your pants down and slid his huge tongue right into your entrance. You shuddered in shock and ended up with both hands stuck in the mud.

"Wh-what are you doing!?"

Cobi wasn't paying any attention to your words, not as lost in his efforts to loosen up your hole in preparation for the main event as he was. He gripped your legs with his webbed hands as his tongue probed you as deeply as possible, kneading and throbbing and gently stretching out your insides.

The pleasure was indescribable. You wanted Cobi to stop, but time you tried to articulate a protest the only sound you managed to produce was a loud moan or gasp.

And of course the only possible reaction Cobi could have to that was to think that he was doing a great job making his new mate nice. And he wanted to feel good with you.

He removed the slimy tongue from your entrance and removed his loincloth. Cobi then aligned his engorged cock and drew circles against it with before tip before slowly sinking into your tight heat. He had held reservations about making love to you so soon into courting, but now that he was inside you the last of them had melted away.

"Oh, oh, ooohh, you feel so amazing! I-i think you were meant for this pretty artist~"

Much in the same way that your resolve had melted away under the burning flood of pleasure Cobi was drowning you in. Judging by how it felt it was no human cock. It was much longer, a little thicker, and felt a bit slimy. With every thrust you lost a bit more of yourself until you were moving back against his movements, desperately trying to chase the orgasm you were building up to.

You had just come here to help along your art and now here you were in the mud mounted like a bitch in heat and enjoying it. It would have been humiliating if you had the capacity to dwell on such matters.

There were more important things to think about right now. Like the cock breeding you. The feel of unnaturally heavy nuts smacking into you. The soft and attentive lips kissing up your backside, straining to reach your neck.

You arched your back as you had the most mind shattering climax of your life.

"I can't hold back anymore. You sketched for me. L-let me just paint your insides for you~"

And then you learned why his nuts felt so heavy as they slammed against you. As he filled you he deposited much more than just normal cum. Over dozens of small round objects flooded into you and adhered themselves to your walls.

"Wh-what the?"

Cobi plucked you out of the mud with ease and pulled you into his lap as he sat down, with his prick still buried snugly inside of you. He held you close to his sweaty body and caressed your belly lovingly.

Now that you had a moment to process your predicament and the events that had just transpired you were completely dumbfounded. One moment you were trying to get out of the mire and the next you were being fucked.

"I'm so glad you wanted to be mates~"

Your mind was reeling trying to come up with a response to such an outrageous claim. When had you expressed anything resembling such a des-

"Mmmm~" Instead you could only reply with a pathetic pleased whimper as Cobi began rolling his hips, grinding into you and very slowly fucking you for a second time.

"Don't worry, I have plenty more eggs just for my sweet artist~"

You could only lean back against him and drool as he wrapped his arms around you possessively and temporarily fucked your mind away once more.

#yandere #yandere terato #yandere teratophilia #yandere monster #male yandere #yandere boyfriend #yandere x reader #gender neutral reader #x reader #male yandere x gn reader #My ocs #My OC Cobi

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stunie · 5 months ago

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˖ ݁𖥔 ݁ “DID YOU JUST FAKE THAT, PRINCESS?”

WINDBREAKER BOYS + FAKING AN ORGASM. ft. yamato endo, kiryuu mitsuki, & kaji ren x f!reader

content: explicit smut (18+), fem! reader, overstimulation, squirting, praise (genuine & mocking), degradation, teasing, dumbification, mild humiliation + corruption + dacryphilia + choking, fingering, cunninglingus, muffled (panties), doggy, mating press, wall sex, endo is mean, usage of pet names

mdni - 2.9K wc ; whew it ended up super long ! i had sm fun writing this one <3 as always, individual warnings are below

YAMATO ENDO.

note: ooc, written before newer chapters were out, sorry >:

taking you like this has always been endo’s favorite way to ruin you. your pretty noises are muffled by the mattress, ass high and back arched in a futile attempt to ease the stretch of his cock. it’s so good, and he grabs your hips roughly, pulling you back to slam against his own. his pace is unrelenting, length able to reach the deepest parts inside your cunt as you squeal and tug at the sheets beneath you.

“promise i w-won’t do it again,” you crane your neck to gasp for air, apology coming out frantic and slurred, and your face burns when he laughs— laughs at your sincerity and at the way that your jaw falls slack at the slightest change in his angle. “you’re sorry?” his words come out mocking, relishing in the way your teary eyes clench shut as you try to fight the tension building up in your core— because you know good and well that you’re not allowed to cum until he says the word.

“yea, ‘m sor—”

“sorry’s not gonna cut it,” he spits, “gonna have to make up for it, pretty girl. try again.”

his hands come to push your back further down into the mattress, angling your ass higher for him to let him bully his cock into you harder. it’s so cute how endearing you are, teary eyes trying to focus and think despite the way his heavy cock is hitting so deep inside you, his pace as rough as ever and your head foggy and dizzy.

“i will,” you blurt, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap with each roll of his hips— “i will! i’ll make it up, please endo, ‘m gonna cum, i think ‘m gonna cum—”

“aw,” his tone is low and mocking, pace slowing down ever so slightly as his fingers come to wrap around your throat and apply pressure, “since you’re so cute, i’ll be nice today.”

“cum with me and i’ll let it go, yeah?” he pulls out, until just the tip is inside before he slams back into you. “gonna have to use your brain and match my pace.”

and you’re nodding as soon as the words leave his lips, not a trace of hesitation in the way your shaky hands come to spread your ass wider for him, just the way he likes it. endo feels his dick throb at just how cute you are, holding yourself wide open for him to ravage you as you blabber about how good he feels— how close you are to cumming.

“alrightt,” he lulls, “ready, doll?” his tone comes out amused, but you can’t tell, nodding so desperately as your hips start to jerk. in an instant, he’s picking up his pace, hitting so deep inside you that it makes your eyes roll back in your skull, endo fucking you completely senseless with each snap of his hips.

“e-endo—” you gasp when the hand around your neck moves to push your head down, allowing him to better leverage himself as he buries his cock into the spot that has you screaming. your eyes widen when he finally growls out the word, the word that lets the knot inside you snap as you gush around his cock, thighs reduced to a violent tremor.

“f-fuuck,” he groans when your walls squeeze and flutter wildly against him, his jaw clenching shut to grunt a “just like that.”

“that’s my fucking girl,” he slurs lazily, slowly dragging his cock in and out of you as your walls continue to flutter around the thickness, your chest heaving up and down from the intensity.

the praise makes your heart swoon even with your current state, eyes half lidded and heavy and your mind barely able to register the lewd noises coming from your dripping cunt.

“feel good now? making a mess all over me?”

“mmhm,” you nod mindlessly, tired arms reaching back to swipe at your cunt like clockwork. it was something endo had taught you the very first time he took you, and you’ve never failed to do it since. it’s usually about now when you collect the load that seeps out of your hole, and he’ll pull you onto his lap next, urging you to stick those fingers in your mouth and swirl your tongue around it.

he’s addicted to how good the sight of you swallowing his cum makes him feel, cock throbbing and aching— picturing those pretty lips wrapped around his length again. it’s always enough to rile him up again and again.

your tired fingers rub between your folds, collecting the slick, but something’s different. “h-huh?” you stutter, head craning back to look at your hand. it takes you a moment, innocent eyes squinting as you inspect your fingers— there’s nothing besides your own slick.

“oh, fuck,” endo laughs loudly, “i can’t believe it.”

he grabs your arm roughly, earning a surprised yelp from you as he flips you onto your back, pressing your thighs flush against your own chest, his body hovering over you with a hunger that sends a shiver straight down your spine.

“still so fucking innocent, huh? thought you knew me better than that.”

“i-i don’t understand..” your voice trails off, face burning with embarrassment because he’s always being so mean to you. it takes you by surprise when you feel it slap against your clit, your gaze finally shifting downwards to see his cock�� throbbing and slick with your juices, thick precum collecting at the tip.

he really didn’t cum.

“oh, dumb girl,” he coos, “did you forget our agreement?”

he wishes he had whipped out his phone to record the sight of you. it’s adorable, your pretty body folded into a mating press, teary eyes desperately looking up at him as you whine and complain that he tricked you, that’s he’s not being fair, but all he can think about is how he wants to ruin that pussy that you have so clearly on display for him.

he pushes his length inside you all at once, tip kissing your cervix as your head falls back, sobbing that’s it’s too much for you. “aww,” endo feigns sympathy, leaning forward until his face hovers right over the side of your neck, “it’s just too bad you didn’t do a very good job matching my timing.”

he licks a slow, deliberate stripe down your neck and sucks— sucks hard before releasing the skin with a pop to admire the mark he’s planted on you. “since you couldn’t do that for me,” he starts, fingers running along your waist, “you don’t have any other choice but to let me use this pretty body of yours, don’t you?”

“gonna fuck you so stupid— ‘till your brain’s too mushy to think up any more little tricks.”

KIRYUU MITSUKI.

“hey,” kiryuu slaps your cunt lightly, “i don’t remember teaching you to do that.”

his voice is gentle, almost unnervingly so as he pulls your back flush against his chest, hand coming to spread you open for him. “let’s try again.”

“j-just wanted more…kiryuu,” you whine when he’s slow to sink the first finger deep inside, pumping it in and out as his thumb comes to circle at your clit, the precision making your hips jerk and push against him.

“more?” his voice comes out directly besides your ear and it sends a strong shiver down your back, “you’re getting real greedy with me, princess.”

he obliges regardless, eyes gauging your reaction as he slips a second finger inside, pumping them a little faster into your cunt. “f-fuck…” you sigh, walls fluttering eagerly around his fingers when he begins to curl them against your walls.

“look— at the mess you’re making all over us.” your eyes shift downwards, face burning at the sight of his fingers, pretty hands coated in thick layers of your slick, the muscles of his forearms flexing with each curl of his fingers. “see?”

“that’s why i’m gonna take my time with you,” he coos, fingers curling against that spongy spot inside you that dots your vision with stars, “n watch your pretty pussy swallow my fingers like this.”

the lewd noises of his fingers fucking your cunt has you approaching your high, but you’re greedy for more— and knows that painfully well. he’s not any different, cock bulging tight under his pants and desperate to bury itself deep inside you, but not yet.

kiryuu fights back the smile that threatens to creep onto his lips when you gasp loudly at the stretch from a third finger slipping inside you, the thickness making your thighs tremble against his touch. “so pretty for me,” he lulls, “feeling good, huh?”

he loves watching your reactions, eyes intent on watching the way your expression contorts with pleasure, mouth slightly ajar to let out little pants and huffs, your own attention focused on how good his fingers feel inside you. he can tell you’re getting close with the way your thigh has started to tremble harder against his, hips occasionally jerking from the stimulation.

“you’re so good,” he coos, letting out a lazy grunt as his other hand comes to hold your face, “but no more looking. okay?”

his hand clasps over your mouth, your head tilting back to face the ceiling— and that’s when he switches. your head falls back on his shoulder when he’s suddenly he’s suddenly fucking you faster, fingers slamming into the most sensitive spots inside you. his thumb comes to rub roughly at your clit, drawing lewd moans from you as your thighs try and clamp together to fight the stimulation.

“i know, baby, i know—” his voice comes out calm, and he knows what you need. he knows how to work his fingers to make your head spin, knows this pace will have you whining that it’s too much, but he wants to see you cum. so he aims to pummel his fingers against that deep spot inside you, relishing in the way your thighs tremble violently in response.

“mmmp—!” your moans come out muffled against his hand, but he understands. “you’ll cum for me this time, won’t you?”

his hand leaves your mouth, a thick string of saliva connecting the two before he’s holding your thigh open for him, spreading you so he can thumb at your clit harder. “y-yes! ‘m gonna cum, f-fuck— kiryuu” you babble, eyes clenching shut and hands coming to squeeze at his forearms.

it’s too much. you find yourself right along the edge, eyes clenched shut because it’s just too much, but your cunt is eagerly swallowing his fingers whole, juices dripping down your thighs and his arms— “that’s right, you’re so good for me.” his voice comes out a little rushed, a little more breathless as he fucks his fingers into you.

“you can take this.”

all it takes is one more curl of fingers and his thumb to swipe over your clit to have you crying his name loudly, cunt spasming around his fingers as you gush all over him. you whine when he takes his fingers out, dragging them along your folds to watch the way your hips jerk at the overstimulation.

“that was better. see?”

he brings his fingers to your face, and you open your mouth in a daze, swirling your tongue lazily around each finger as he sighs contently, cock throbbing at the thought of your lips wrapped around his dick instead. “ahh… that’s so good.”

“you’re doing so good,” he whispers, “you can take another one. turn around for me, sweet thing.”

KAJI REN.

“thought i told you to be quiet,” kaji growls against your cunt, “not to fake it.”

“‘m trying—” you stammer, thighs trembling as your hands lay flat on the surface, your body bent over his desk as he eats you out from behind.

“what?” his voice ghosts against your clit, making you suck in a sharp breath, “needa be muffled?”

your face burns when he takes out your panties, wet from the way he was grinding his cock against your clothed cunt earlier. you got him so riled up— his mind still stuck on how irresistible you looked folded over his desk, his bulge nestled so nicely between the globes of your ass. he should have tossed you onto his bed next, get a good look at how his cock sits between your thighs when you’re in prone bone, then get you arching your back and pulling at the sheets for him because he always fucks you that good.

but you had to test his patience today.

“open.” he stuffs the fabric into your mouth, fingers subtly ghosting over your lips before his hands are back around your thighs, tugging on them to urge you to come closer.

"gonna teach you a lesson," he spits, and his mouth is back on your cunt in an instant, tongue coming to roughly lap at the slick that’s started dripping. your face contorts, thighs pressing together- but his rough hands are moving to keep you wide open for him.

kaji has always been messy, groaning directly into your cunt as he licks and sucks, eating you out with fervor until he knows your eyes are rolling back into your skull, lewd noises barely muffled by the tiny wad of fabric in your mouth.

he’s slurping loudly, licking and sucking on your clit, and he brings his tongue down to prod at your hole, eyes narrowing into a glare when you try and clench your thighs together. his hands come to hook around the front of your hips, yanking you roughly back until you’re flush against his face, his tongue deep inside your hole as he licks in every direction, fucking you on his tongue while you make those sinful noises for him.

“k-kaji,” your words come out slurred from the muffle, your saliva dribbling onto his table, “‘m close!”

“oh f-fuck,” you cry when two fingers are shoved deep inside you, lewd noises echoing in his room when he fucks them in and out of your cunt, his mouth coming to flick at your clit. it’s becoming too much, and you try to escape by going higher onto your toes— but he doesn’t let you.

“don’t you dare,” he warns with a low growl against your cunt, hand squeezing your thigh to keep you firmly planted against his face. “quit squirming and take it.”

the knot in your stomach is tightening, pushing you closer and closer as his fingers seem to reach impossibly further inside your cunt with each movement, beating against that sweet spot inside that has you moaning so loudly against your panties.

“a-ah—” your eyes widen when his tongue flicks over your clit perfectly, and the coil inside your stomach snaps in an instant, screaming into the fabric as your walls flutter over his fingers, gushing into his mouth as he groans and laps at your cunt messily.

your jaw goes slack even he begins to slows down, fingers leaving your walls empty and needy so he can bring them to his lips and suck on them, get a last taste of you before he’s sloppily wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. your panties fall onto his desk, body reduced to a trembling mess.

and it’s everywhere. dripping down your thighs, coated over his entire hand— his face. if he was even trying to get it off of his mouth in the first place, it didn’t work.

“you’re fucking messy,” his voice is raspy when he leans over you, heavy cock pressing against your ass. “and we’re not done yet.”

there’s a deep, shaky groan from him when he first pushes his cock between your thighs, using your slick to get his dick wet. he’s throbbing by now, so desperate to be inside you, and it’s rubbing against your folds so nicely, tip nudging against your swollen clit each time he pushes forward.

“k-kaji,” you whine, “i wanna see you.”

his eyes widen a bit at the innocent request, your pretty face peering back at him with that fucked out look in your eyes— it’s cute. he’s gentle when his arms come to wrap around you, picking you up and pressing your back against the walls of his room.

“gonna make you cum over n over,” he grunts, sinking you slowly down onto his thickness. he’s always been harder to take in this position, cock practically splitting you open— and your sinful moans are going straight into his ear with the way you’ve latched onto his shoulders.

“you’re so big, kaji,” you gasp, “feels so good.”

“yeah?” his voice is low, breathless as he starts to slam his hips up into yours, tip prodding against your cervix each time he bottoms out. “you like that?”

“mhm,” your lips come to messily suck at his neck, and he groans loudly. “want more, kaji. please—”

"more?" he snarls, audible slaps echoing throughout the room from the way he's bouncing you even harder against his hips. "squirting all over my face wasn’t enough for you, huh?”

you grab at him to avoid falling from the roughness, arms tangled tightly around his neck to let him fuck you with pure strength, thickness spreading you so good as your slick dribbles down his balls.

"i better not hear you whining later that it’s too much.”

pt 2: suo, sakura, togame, & umemiya x f!reader

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cherubunie · 5 days ago

Text

baby doll ~ sim jaehyun x reader

౨ৎ inspired by this request !! ♡ ଓ ⋆˙⊹ [ 제이크 ] ☆ in which jake eats out his virgin girlfriend for the first time and ends up going batshit insane with obsession & possession

word count ; 2.7k

dom! jake x sub! reader . corruption kink , oral , lots of praise , very very slight degrading if u squint , fingering , neck kisses , hickeys , Jake is a little bit of a pervert , not proof read , this kinda sucks oh well

Jake and you have been together for four months , and the two of you have decided to take things slow.

he was so so patient with you- so kind and loving , never has he ever made you feel uncomfortable or forced to do anything. he wanted to go at your own pace, even if that meant he had to rub one out after a heated make out session in private once a while.

he was the sweetest boyfriend ever and he loves you so much..

so much he began to slip into insanity

you two have had conversations before, such as establishing a safe word and what kinds of things the two of you were kind of into

which led him to discover that you were in fact a virgin.

ever since you told him that small fact about yourself, he drove himself further into madness.

how on earth were you a virgin?

he thinks to himself on a regular basis. you're too fucking gorgeous.

the thought of having the perfect little girl who has never experienced having sex was phonenomal. he wanted to show you all the different ways he could make you feel good, which positions he could fold you into, he wanted to force perfect whines and moans out of your mouth as he fucked his cock deep inside you for the first time. he wanted to teach you how to suck him off- imagining your round eyes looking up at him while your mouth was stuffed full of his length was too much for him to contemplate.

Jake knows its wrong, but when he's snooped through your room a couple times while you were in the shower. he imagined what your naked body looked like when it was wet, how the water droplets would travel inbetween your breasts and thighs- the picture made him unbelievably hard-, he then found himself discovering the awful cute panties that are folded neatly in your underwear drawer that have adorable matching bras. he also discovered a measly pink vibrator tucked away in a box of that underwear drawer, completely dead and his mind began to race.

have you came to the thought of him at all? do you imagine him fucking you as you use the pathetic little toy on your clit?

he couldn't seem to stop his dirty thoughts that began to cloud ever part of his being.

the thought of you wearing one of those adorable pieces of underwear underneath your clothes made him feel all sorts of things. and oh god whenever you would walk around your apartment with just a hoodie on made him wonder if you were wearing one of the cute lacy panties with a black bow stitched in the middle.

here you were, reaching up on your tippy toes to grab a glass out of the cabinet.

and that god damn hoodie of his that you're wearing began to ride up to show the curve of your ass, the lacy underwear peaking out from underneath.

Jake felt himself growing in his jeans just at the sight, you truly had no fucking clue what you were doing to him.

"come here baby" jakes voice traveled through the apartment. you pop your head out of the kitchen with the biggest smile on your face.

"coming, I was just getting water" you trot into the living room, setting down the glass of water onto the surface of the coffee table. you stand up and look at him, that cute smile on your face still prominent.

his hoodie falls around your mid thigh, the article of clothing completely swallowing your figure and he begins to wonder how you look underneath.

he would love your body regardless of its shape of course, but that doesn't stop the dirty thoughts that form in his skull. every fiber of his being is telling him to rip it off of you and stuff your face into the couch below him and fuck you raw- but he decides on the latter.

"come here doll, let me look at you" your feet patter on the hardwood floors as you walk over to your boyfriend, standing in between his spread legs. his hands find the outsides of your thighs , his thumbs rubbing gentle circles on your exposed skin.

"you're so beautiful" his words make a deep blush coat your cheeks. his hands suddenly grip your legs, shifting your body so that you can sit on his lap facing him.

you gasp at his forwardness, but lean into his touch nontheless. your head leans down and your breath fans his face. Jake looks up at you through his eyelashes, admiring your beautiful face that's beet red at his gentle words.

you both lean in for a kiss, your chapstick smearing onto his lips as your mouths move together. your hands move to wrap around his neck, pushing your body into his front.

the kiss quickly began to escalate, your mind was fuzzy, your hands were frantic, and your pussy began to wetten.

his tongue intruded your lips, sliding against yours while his hands moved from your thighs up to your hips underneath the hoodie you were wearing.

his fingers played with the hem of your underwear, a quite whine leaving your throat- to which Jake happily swallowed. your hands moved up to his head, your fingers lacing in his thick locks in order to tug and pull on them.

now it was jakes turn to moan into your mouth, his fingers tightening on your hips as he began to grind his growing bulge into your core.

everything felt hot and overstimulating , your head began to hurt as you quickly pulled off of your boyfriend.

your lips were kiss swollen and your face was red. Jake looked up at you with concern, his hands instantly slipping out of the hoodie in order to cup your cheeks.

"what's wrong my love, are you okay?" you nodded your head trying to catch your breath. your eyes fly closed and your hands grip into his shoulders.

"we don't have to baby doll, lets put on a movie and cudd-"

"I- I want to.." your voice was small, tone laced with embarrassment. jakes eyes widen in shock and he tilts your head to look at him.

"we don't have to if you dont want to , im okay sweetheart I promise" he reassures you , as hes done for the millionth time since the two of you started dating. your eyes open and lock onto his.

"I want to, Jake... I really really do im just- nervous is all.. what if it hurts?" oh my god.

Jake feels his chest tighten and he bites back a smirk, his hands moving down to cup the slope of your waist. he wished you wouldn't have said that, because all he wants to do now is manipulate your body into any position he wishes while he takes away any and all sense of innocence you have in your body.

"how about this baby, I'll eat you out and finger you until you're ready for me, hmm?" jakes eyes darken slightly , you avert your eyes from his with an embarrassing huff.

"what it... what if i.. I dont know.." you stutter over your words, not wanting to finish the stupid sentence.

"big girl words, doll" you sigh again and cover your face with your hands, muttering into your palms

"what if I taste bad" your words are muffled, but Jake can hear them regardless. he takes his big hands and wraps them in his hold, forcing your hands away from your red face as he speaks to you.

"you will not taste bad , I swear... how on earth would you have a bad taste, you are the sweetest girl to ever walk this damn earth" his compliment makes you giggle.

there is absolutely no way you could taste bad and he knows it.

he's smelt your underwear before out of pure curiosity and has never been more obsessed with the idea of eating you out ever since.

before you could protest, hes picking you up into the air. your legs wrap around his waste and your arms tighten around his neck with a squeal.

"Jakeee" you drag out his name with a giggle as he walks over to your room. he sets you on the foot of the bed and you feel even more embarrassment at all your stuffed animals looking at you.

Jake stands inbetween your legs, his hands on your knees in order to keep them apart.

you lay on your back and reach above your head, turning around your stuffed rabbits that rest in front of your pillows before sitting up and facing him.

Jake has to stifle a laugh that threatens to bubble up passed his chest, but one makes it out anyways.

"dont laugh at me.. I dont want them watching" you are too fucking adorable, his heart swells in his chest at your words.

Jake leans downs, his body towering over yours as he brings you into another kiss, this time it's more heated; demanding as his mouth moves against yours rhythmically. your hands move to his back, arms wrapping around his shoulders. you feel his hands at the base of the hoodie. he breaks the kiss with a wet pop, he looks into your lust-filled eyes- a silent plea.

"can... can we keep it on..?" you ask him, and he instantly responds.

"of course baby, anything you want sweetheart" Jake brings one of his hands to press against the mattress behind you before he gently leans you back, your head falling onto the mattress gently.

you feel yourself growing wetter, your clit pulsating in your panties as he kisses you deeply once more. your hands move to his hair- tugging on it once more.

Jake bites your lower lip and you hiss, your hips grind up into the air in a desperate search for friction. he trails his kisses to your neck before sucking down on your skin, leaving the prettiest purple marks that have you arching your back while breathless whimpers drip off your tongue like honey.

Jake detaches from your neck and sinks down to his knees in front of the bed, his face coming down to your clothed pussy. he pushes the hoodie up around your stomach, baring your underwear to him. your face is hot and you worry about how you taste and look, attempting to control your breathing as you lay down on the mattress.

"shh baby, its okay, I got you" his words reassure your overthinking mind. he brings a cold finger up to your clothed clit and presses down, earning himselfa sharp inhale from the perfect woman above.

he rubs his digit in soft circles, coaxing your body to relax.

"j-jake.." you whine as he chuckles. after a moment of concentrated massaging to your clothed clit- he sees a prominent wet patch form on your underwear and he curses at the sight.

without thinking, he pulls your panties to the side and slips his fingers through your wet folds. your back arches and your eyes close at the feeling.

"so wet for me already?" he teases you. your mind is racing - as is your heart while he pulls his fingers away from your heat in order to pull your pretty panties down passed your ankles.

you sit up on your forearms as he places his hands on your knees in order to pull your legs apart.

and the sight of your dripping pussy makes him fall for you all over again. the unholy thoughts that run ramped in his mind are sick, the way he wants to split you in half and fuck you dumb overtakes his thoughts- but he calms them in an instant.

he brings his face closer to your heat so his breath fans your aching pussy. your arousal drips down your ass and onto the sheets before he brings his tongue out in order to lick a stripe up your pussy- making you shudder in your hold.

he does it again, and again, and again- making your breathing rapid and uneven

"so sweet.." he mumbles before wrapping his arms around your legs in order to pull you down onto his face- his lips automatically wrapping around your clit.

your mouth slacks open in a gasp followed by loud moans. his tongue works its magic against you- flicking and sucking around your sensitive bundle of nerves. your hands fist in the sheets, using them as leverage to keep you grounded.

Jake groans into your pussy as he feels your hole clench around nothing- so he brings his middle finger up to your cunt before sliding it inside your tight pussy.

you quite literally suck his finger inside you before clenching around him. Jake lets out a stream of curses into your wet pussy

"fuck.. so tight. such a perfect baby doll falling apart in my hands" you moan at his words, your hips rocking into his face.

the unfamiliar feeling of Jake eating you out makes body feel weak and your mind feel empty- stars beginning to form in the darkness behind your eyelids.

Jakes finger pumps inside your pussy, curling in desperate search for that sweetspot deep inside you- and when he finds it, your back arches even further off the bed as you squeal. he chuckles against you- sending vibrations through your entire body starting at your core.

"found it" you feel tears well up in your eyes, and Jake decides to scrape his teeth gently against your clit- making you hiss at the odd feeling.

"god you're so fucking beautiful, my perfect little angel" his finger repeatedly kisses your cherry-sweet spot, the pleasure overriding your senses as you grab his hair and grind into his face.

"j-jake please.." you have no idea why your begging, but the sound of you moan his name as you come undone in the palm of his hand makes jakes cock rock hard- straining against his jeans and he swears he could come just by eating you out.

his grip on your thigh tightens, his tongue concentrated on your puffy, swollen clit.

an unfamiliar feeling forms in the pit of your stomach, and you begin to feel hot and uncomfortable.

"j-jake i.. feel weird hmm, pl-plea-se" your moans pick up volume and your legs attempt to close around his head, but the grip he has on your thighs is strong and unmoving.

"doing such a good job for me sweet girl, wanna cum angel?" you shake your head frantically, the wave of your orgasm beginning to crash down on you.

"y-yes please" you answer, making Jake pout his lips into you.

"such a good girl, you can cum baby, I got you sweetheart im here" you fall into this hands as the coil in your tummy begins to unravel, your hands come to cover your eyes and your legs begin to shake.

your moans turn into high-pitched mewls and cries

"oh my god Jake!" one of your hands comes down to your side in order to reach for your boyfriend, and he just about breaks down.

you're reaching for him.

you want to hold his hand as eats you out, as you come all over him.

he unwraps his arm from your leg and instantly grips your hand in his, and that pushes you over the edge as your fluids squirt out of your pussy and all over his face- dripping down his chin to stain the sheets below.

Jake gawks at you, his mouth slack open and his eyes wide as you become a puddle

the realization of what just happened hits him;

you just fucking squirted for him.

"fuck- you're so perfect oh my god- such a good girl, pretty girl" as you begin to settle down, Jake pulls his fingers out of you and stands up before leaning down to face you.

he tucks a stray hair behind your ear as he kisses your forehead.

"you did such a good job for me baby doll, so pretty" he compliments.

"I-i was?" Jake nods his head and takes you into his arms.

"yes baby, the best"

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roosterforme · 5 months ago

Text

Mr. Right Now Part 1 | Hangman x Reader

Summary: When Jake picks your ID up from the floor at the Hard Deck, he has no expectations that he's about to be in for a wild ride. But when he learns that you're looking for Rooster and why you're at the bar in the first place, he starts to feel more possessive than he should. You're young and stubborn and about to get yourself into trouble. Maybe he would prefer it if you got into it with him instead.

Warnings: adult language, mentions of sex and virginity, 18+

Length: 2800 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Why is Jake on my masterlist!? Mr. Right Now masterlist

It was a typical Friday night with the typical Hard Deck crowd, and to be honest, it was a bit exhausting. Jake knew if he picked up a random girl to take home, it would all feel pretty pointless the next morning. He should probably just head home now before he ruined some desperate girl's night by kicking her out of his bed in about four hours.

"Jesus, it's not even ten o'clock yet," he muttered to himself as he checked his watch. He'd only had one whiskey sour, but he was ready to leave. The two girls in matching pink dresses had been eyeing him up all night, and they both looked like the type who would cry if he suggested getting them an Uber after hooking up, no matter how clear he made it that he only ever kept things very casual.

He hated when girls got it twisted. Jake loved women. He loved their bodies. He loved making promises to them and then delivering. He loved the little noises they made when he fucked them. But that was all he had time for. He wasn't going to meet anyone that made him think it was worth pursuing more when he spent all of his time at work, at the gym, or at a bar full of tag chasers.

He signaled for Penny to close out his tab, and even she looked surprised. "You're heading out?" she asked, glancing at his friends who were still playing pool with the girls in pink.

"Yeah," he said with a sigh as he signed his name on the receipt and collected his credit card. "Thinking about an early night and a long run on the beach first thing in the morning."

"Right," she said, giving him a little smile. "Be safe."

He winked at her and turned just in time to see a young woman drop something as she tried to squeeze through the crowd. "Hey!" he called out as he picked up her driver's license and held it up in his hand. "Leather mini skirt!"

You glanced over your shoulder, your eyes questioning as you turned away from the pool table to face him. He watched you look around to make sure nobody else was wearing a black leather skirt before you faced him all the way.

"Yes?" you asked a little cautiously, and Jake took in the sight before him. You looked pretty young and a little out of place here. You had paired your little skirt with a black tank top and some Converse sneakers, and even though you didn't look like anyone else, you certainly didn't look bad.

Then he remembered he was holding your license, and he glanced down at his hand only to realize it was literally the worst fake ID he had ever seen. Your name was pretty, if that part was even real. The photo actually was you, but it looked like it had been taken in bad lighting, and according to your date of birth, you were thirty just like he was. One more look at your face told him that was a blatant lie.

"This yours?" he asked, holding it up between his thumb and index finger.

You rushed forward, clearly embarrassed, and you tried to take it from him with a muttered, "Thank you."

But he pulled it out of your reach, and your hand grazed his chest instead. "Nice fake, kiddo. Don't get drunk, okay?"

You shot him a look of vexation, clearly having no idea who he was or that he was one of the best fighter pilots in the country. "I'm not here to get drunk, okay?" When you reached for the plastic card again, Jake held it a little higher just to see what you'd do. "Seriously?"

He glanced up and looked at the first and last name once again before saying them out loud. "Then why are you here? And with the world's worst fake ID to boot."

You eyed the card, still out of reach, and placed your hands on your hips. "Not that it's any of your business, but I'm actually looking for someone named Rooster, if you happen to know who he is?"

Jake lowered his hand slowly, and you snatched your card back and tucked it inside your little purse. "What do you want with ol' Rooster?" he asked, eyeing you a little closer while you were glancing down. You were cute if not a little too innocent looking for him, but your words once again had him engaged.

"That's classified, sailor. Now do you know who he is or not?"

Jake laughed. "Yeah. I know who he is. But I'm not a sailor. I'm an aviator. Got more air to air kills than anyone else on active duty."

You gave him a bland look. "That must be very nice for you, aviator. But I'm on a bit of a mission here, so if you don't mind..." As you turned back toward the pool table, Jake followed behind you.

"He's the big one with the mustache and hideous shirt."

You stopped, and he bumped into you, steadying himself with his hands briefly on your shoulders. "Oh," you replied. "Wow. I mean, it's not going to be a problem for me, that's for sure. I just hope he's into it."

Still confused, Jake said, "I wouldn't bother him in the middle of a game of pool unless you come bearing the gift of a beer or a nice set of tits."

You spun around and looked him right in the eye. "What exactly is wrong with my tits?"

"Nothin'," he replied, trying not to look at them in your snug top. "Just trying to give you the lay of the land is all."

When you glanced over your shoulder, he let his eyes dip down below your neck. Certainly nothing wrong there. "Is that his girlfriend?" you asked, turning back to Jake and jerking your thumb in the direction of Phoenix where she stood near Rooster.

"No," he laughed. "But I'd also avoid interrupting her without a beer or your tits ready to go."

"Well, thanks. You've been very informative. One more question," you said, just inches away from Jake in the crowd. "What kind of beer does this Rooster guy like?"

He studied your face closely. He considered himself something of an expert when it came to women, and things weren't completely adding up for him right now. Your words and posture seemed bold and sure, but your eyes were giving you away. There was a nervousness behind them that made him anxious to get answers from you.

"I'll tell you if you finally answer my question."

"What was your question?"

"Why are you here? And what do you want from Rooster?"

"That's two questions," you said with a smirk, leaning a little closer, and Jake just wanted to wrap his arm around you and yank you all the way in.

"You're a real smartass, kid. And I like that in a person. But just humor me with an answer, and I'll buy you the beer myself."

Your lips parted as your gaze drifted down to Jake's chest. Every time you blinked, your eyelashes brushed your cheeks, and it was taking all of his willpower to keep his hands off you. With a deep breath, you almost met his eyes as you said, "I'm here to get laid."

Jake cocked his head to one side until you did meet his gaze. Your eyes still looked unsure. "Explain."

You just shrugged. "What is there to explain exactly? I'm looking to have sex."

He closed one eye and squinted. He could have sworn he only had one drink, but nothing was making sense right now. "With Rooster?"

"Yes. I'm going to try to get him to take me home."

Jake burst into laughter, and you took a small step away from him. "You're not going to have to try very hard, I can tell you that much for sure." You were actually cute as hell; any guy you had your sights set on would be ready to leave at the mere mention of such activities.

"That's what I'm hoping for," you muttered before pressing your lips together.

"Wait, wait," Jake asked with his hands held up in front of his chest in surrender. "Why Rooster?"

You looked a little embarrassed now as you switched your bag from one hand to the other. "My friend told me he was good in bed," you muttered.

"I am so confused," Jake replied, pushing his fingers through his hair. By this point, you were starting to look annoyed, and he didn't want to push, but he wanted to know. If you were going to parade around the Hard Deck in a mini skirt with a fake ID, he needed to know that you were okay. "You're young and attractive. Why did you come here of all places to acquire a hot fuck?" And that's when he got the answer that surprised him as you finally snapped.

"Because, if you must know, I'm a disgrace of a twenty-year-old virgin, and I'm trying to get Rooster to take care of that for me."

"What?" Jake's mind was reeling. He looked from you to the aviator at the pool table and then at your face once more. Then he jerked back a step. A virgin. Huh. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen one this close up before. Not around here, anyway. And, frankly you were hot enough that it did surprise him a bit, even though you were young.

"You heard me," you muttered, playing with your skirt. "Don't make it into a big thing." You shook your head and glanced toward the bar. "What kind of beer does he like? It looks like he has a bottle of Stella."

You were definitely nervous right now, and Jake didn't like that one bit. "Oh, no. You don't want to hook up with Rooster."

"Yes," you insisted, clutching your little purse now. "I do. Because he won't even have to know about any of it. He'll just fuck me. And then I can get on with my life."

When you took a step toward the bar, Jake reached out for your hand. "He's drunk. You want your first time to be with someone who won't have the mental capacity to make sure you enjoy yourself, too? Make sure you come?"

Instead of pulling your hand free, you stopped and looked at the place where your fingers were connected with his. "I'm not worried about coming. I just want to get this over with."

Gently he pulled you closer until your chest bumped his, and then Jake took your chin carefully between his thumb and index finger. "How old are you, really?"

"I'm twenty."

He stroked your lip with his thumb. It was soft and plump and more than kissable. "Twenty," he echoed. "That's not too old, you know."

You smirked. "Thanks. But I'm just trying to be sensible here. I don't need to be in love or anything like that. I'd rather have the experience. Rather get it out of the way so it doesn't hurt when I'm with the guy who keeps asking me out. And this way I'll know what to do."

Once more he touched his thumb to your lip and said, "Show me your real ID."

"Why?" you asked, frowning as his hand fell away. "That was my actual name on the one you saw."

"Just humor me, kid," he said firmly, holding out his hand. If you were only eighteen or even younger, he was going to have to ask you to leave or maybe even get Penny involved before you did go home with one of these horny assholes.

With a huff, you handed it to him. According to the real one, you lived in San Diego. You turned twenty about two months ago. And that really was your name. "When you get a fake, you're supposed to fake the name, too. Everyone knows that. You're in college?"

You snatched it from him and tucked it away with the other one. "Yes, I'm in college."

"Then why the hell are you here right now?" he asked. "You want to lose your virginity so bad tonight? Go stand outside a dorm, and the guys will be lining up for a cute thing like you."

The annoyance and apprehension left your face and were replaced by something different. "Do you really think that's a better alternative than a slightly tipsy, attractive man in his 30s? Because I do not. I'm going for Rooster. But thanks for calling me cute."

Jake was getting so used to your smirk that as soon as you turned away from him again, he missed it. You were heading off toward Bradshaw, and for some wild reason, he was just unwilling to let you do this with him. Rooster wouldn't ask if you were a virgin, and you certainly wouldn't tell him. It might be good for you, and it might not, but Jake thought you should at least be with someone who would try.

"No no no no." He had his hands around your waist, pulling your back against his front. "It's not happening," he muttered next to your ear. "I can call a ride for you, or I can drive you home myself, but that's not going to happen."

You spun around and glared at him. "You said I was cute. I can handle this."

Jake sighed and tipped his face toward the ceiling for a beat as he held you in place with his hands at the middle of your back. "Not with any of those guys," he practically growled through gritted teeth. "I don't know how to make myself any more clear."

You weren't struggling in his grasp, and he knew he should let you go anyway, but he wanted you to agree to letting him get you an Uber. But then you leaned in a little closer with a glint in your eye and asked, "Who's going to do it then? You?"

"Me?" he asked, wide eyes slowly drifting down to your lips. He could feel the leather of your skirt against his pinky as his fingers flexed with the need to keep you close. He could smell your skin and see your pupils growing wider. Your softly parted lips were right there.

You nodded slowly and said, "I mean... I don't even know your name, but I'm sure you could show me the ropes, aviator."

He swallowed hard, eyes never leaving yours. "I'm Jake," he said, his voice lower and needier than he anticipated. "And I need you to tell me what you're going to do if I say no."

Your smirk was back. "Well, Jake the aviator, if you say no, then I'll go ask Rooster and keep my fingers crossed that he's into it."

It wasn't that Jake wasn't keen on the idea of getting his hands all over you, because he was. And that was the problem. He wasn't any better than the rest of the guys. Not really. He didn't deserve to get to have you. But the more he thought about it, the more he was convinced he'd make it good. He wouldn't hurt you or do anything you didn't welcome. And he wouldn't kick you out after a few hours.

"It's a bad idea," he said, and then your lips were on his. You caught him off guard, and after that one gentle kiss, you started to pull away. Your eyes were wide and innocent, and he couldn't stop himself. He chased you for another taste, and it was the sweetest thing he could ever remember. Your hand crept up to rest on his chest as he drew your tentative lips back to his, pulling you snug against his body. Soft kiss after soft kiss left his nose bumping against yours as he whispered, "I said it's a bad idea."

Then you were kissing him again. Harder this time. Your hand went around the back of his neck, and he took a palm full of leather as he squeezed your ass. Oh shit. You were a nice handful for him. Honestly, he could get hard for you right here, and now you surely felt it as he rolled his hips forward against yours.

And then you moaned into his mouth as your fingers slipped up into his hair, and Jake knew it was hopeless. You nibbled on his lip before you pulled a few inches away, looked at him with desire filled eyes, and whispered, "I think it might be a good idea."

"God damn it."

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

Is Jake actually any better than the rest of the horny guys? Is this a bad idea or a good idea? The problem is Jake likes stubborn girls who give him a hard time. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 2

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