#all that anger in a short body....

[tmf-confessions]

hi guys. im sick so i'll be answering any rat egg questions y'all have

[bmpmp3]

and unfortunately i am like the equivalent of one of those true crime girlies but like, with white collar crime and corporate scandals. except instead of getting paranoid about random people minding their own business being serial killers coming for me, i just keep telling every tall skinny whiteboy friend about how much financial crime they could get away with if they put on the right posture and confidence.

[fecto-forgo]

obsessed my three j&h posts were literally just "i really like hyde" and then i dipped

[neverendingford]

.

[nikkento-writes]

It starts with a distasteful joke from Gojo. "I bet Nanami's pretty vanilla in bed, am I right?" He nudges you playfully as he sips on his lychee mocktail in the restaurant. Your boyfriend excused himself to use the bathroom and Ieiri went out for a smoke, leaving you alone with Gojo, who you met for the first time just a little over an hour ago.

You're shocked that he'd even ask such a personal question, especially since your relationship with Nanami is still four-months fresh. Unsure how to respond, you simply laugh, not answering. When he continues to stare at you through his blindfold, your smile falters. "You're being serious?"

He smirks, clearly egging you on. "I just can't imagine our little strait-laced salary man being very fun in the sack. No offense."

You're torn between changing the subject all together into something less inappropriate and defending your lover's honor. And unfortunately for you, as the anger inside you begins to bubble at Gojo's tactless words, you choose the latter. "If you must know, he's very, very fun in the sack." You cross your arms over your chest, glaring at him. 

He shrugs, the shit-eating grin still on his face. "I just can't see it. But as long as you're satisfied, that's all that matters."

"I am very satisfied, thank you very much!" you emphasize, cheeks hot now, annoyed. Before you explode on him, Nanami and Ieiri return, so you try to contain your rage as much as possible throughout the rest of dinner.

You intend to keep his outrageous comments to yourself, not wanting to start any unnecessary drama, especially with Nanami who is above this type of ridiculousness. But remembering Gojo's smug expression makes you irate all over again. That night, while you're cuddling with Nanami, you share the story. "So, Gojo said something funny to me while you were in the bathroom." As you recount the short conversation from earlier, you keep it light-hearted, laughing about it as if it doesn't grind your gears (which it does). In all honestly, your sex life with Nanami is amazing, and while it's nobody's business but your own, you can't help being bothered that certain people think otherwise. 

When you're done, Nanami doesn't respond right away, processing it all before he speaks. "Interesting." His voice is steady, though you can sense a hint of annoyance in his tone. "He's an idiot," he adds, holding you closer, grazing his lips on your forehead. 

You giggle, snuggling into his chest. "I know."

"But...you are satisfied, right?"

The waver of uncertainty in his voice breaks your heart and you almost regret telling him. "Of course I am! You know I am!" you answer confidently, peering up at him.

He kisses your forehead. "You promise?"

Grabbing both his cheeks, you smooch him on the lips. "I promise."

Gentle kisses soon turn into sloppy ones as Nanami rolls on top of you, surrounding you in his strong and muscular body. It happens quickly; the blanket is shrugged off, clothes are stripped and scattered on the floor, your legs are spread wide for him as he eats you out voraciously, proving how much fun he can be in bed. He makes you orgasm twice like this, getting it nice and wet for his hard cock, throbbing in his fist as he strokes it. “Ride me,” he demands, laying on his back, licking his lips while you mount him.

You oblige, sinking down on his cock slowly, adjusting to his size. “Fuck, Kento,” you whine, wiggling on his lap until he bottoms out.

“Feels good, huh sweetheart?” He traces your mouth with his thumb, teasing it.

“Yes. So fucking good.” You suck on his fingers, rocking back and forth on his lap. 

He fucks you like this, his feet planted on the bed, bucking his hips up into you at a steady pace. Suddenly, his phone rings, interrupting for a moment. He glances at it, his expression tensing, showing you the name displayed on the screen: Gojo Satoru.

"Answer it," you say, grinding on him with a wicked smile on your face. "Prove him wrong."

For a split-second, he looks at you like you're crazy. But something in him snaps, probably the same thing that made you so angry earlier. Sometimes, you just want to prove yourself right. 

He picks up the phone, putting it on speaker. Gojo's voice rings out. "Nanami, I feel terrible. I said some inappropriate things to your girl - "

"Fuck me, Kento," you whine, bouncing on his lap as he thrusts up into you faster, entire body hot and electric with pleasure. 

Nanami has the phone in one hand and the other that was just in your mouth playing with your clit now. Through labored breaths, he says, "Sorry Gojo, I'm a bit busy being an absolute bore in bed. Isn't that right, kitten?" 

He holds the phone closer to you while you moan your boyfriend's name, your third climax of the night approaching quickly. "Kento, Kento, fuck me Kento!”

Satisfied, Nanami sets the phone down on the bed, gripping your hips to pound up into you, the squelching of his cock pummeling into your wet cunt so erotic and lewd. “Gonna fill you up, sweetheart. Gonna breed this slutty little pussy.” Over the edge now, he shoots his load inside you, letting out his own husky moans. He hastily lifts you off him to eat you out one last time, his cum leaking down from your cunt onto his chin as he sucks on your swollen clit until you come on his face, moaning obscenities incessantly. Completely spent now, you pull off him to cuddle, kissing each other messily as you both come down from your high. 

"Ahem." Gojo's voice startles you as you realize that neither he nor Nanami bothered to hang up the call. Horrified, the two of you wait with bated breath for his response, noting the suggestive ruffling in the background. "I apologize. I stand corrected."

[xxsabitoxx]

Stay Quiet

Yuta x Fem! Reader Smut / characters are 18+

Warnings: semi-public sex, hotel sex, sex with someone else sleeping in the room, titty worship, raw sex, creampies, squirting

A/N: Baby boy is backkkkkk _:(´ཀ`」 ∠): since I feel like I’ve forgotten how to write smut… here is a smut imagine :D

Word count: 1.7k

“Y-yuta~”

Your back is arching into him, hand slapping over your mouth to try and suppress your whimpers. Your boyfriend isn’t listening to your quiet pleas, his head under your shirt, his lips wrapped around one of your nipples.

His only response is stopping his sucking to bite instead, earning a sharp cry from your lips that you quickly try and smother. Beside you, the bed is rustling as Inumaki tosses and turns in his sleep.

Not even a vacation with long time friends in a shared hotel room with two beds would stop Yuta from having his way with you. So long as you kept quiet…

“Yuta please…” you begging him, tone soft but labored as his hand tightened its grip on your side. Still, he didn’t respond, mouth far too preoccupied to speak.

You could only imagine the mess he was making, littering your skin in bruises and saliva to make you his. He’s always adored your breasts, both in the sexual and non-sexual sense. Sometimes he just needed to hold them, other times he needed to fuck them.

You never complained, not when he worshiped you the way he did… the way he was right now.

You could feel your eyes threatening to roll back, his tongue flicking at the sensitive bud as his thigh pressed further to your covered cunt. You were soaked, Yuta could feel the dampness through your night shorts as they pressed into his bare thigh.

Yuta left your breast alone, kissing the bruises he left before turning his head to the one he had been neglecting. It sent a whole new wave of pleasure through you, hand pressing to your mouth tighter as you couldn’t contain your whine.

He nipped at your skin, just hard enough to leave teeth indents that would turn into pretty bruises.

Your hips jerked as he bite down on your nipple, pain and pleasure making you clench around nothing. Your cunt dragged along his thigh, too many layers separating you to gain any real satisfaction from the friction.

“A-at least fuck me, Yuta.” You begged him, hand slotting back over your mouth as he sucked your neglected nipple. Still, you were left with no response, nothing but his hips jerking against your abdomen told you that he had heard your quiet plea.

You felt him, hard and heavy resting on your abdomen, straining in his briefs. If it weren’t for the sheer amount of body heat from being under the covers, you’d have been able to to feel the wet patch forming on the front of him.

Yuta indulged himself further, practically moaning as his hips rolled against you. “N-not fair.” You breathed, one of your hands coming down to rest on top of his head, not able to reach his hair since he was protected by your shirt. “So hot… Yuta I’m hot…”

You knew it was useless, he wasn’t going to stop anything he was doing until he was good and ready.

You could feel it though, your skin was starting to turn slick with sweat. So was Yuta’s, but that didn’t seem to phase him at all. Not when he was lathering your breast with his tongue and whining as he rut his hips against your abdomen.

So needy yet so controlling.

It was a dizzying mix, being completely at his mercy.

Your hips rolled against his thigh, trying to create some sort of relief since he was purposely ignoring you. Three rolls of your hips and Yuta’s grip was tightened, stopping you from moving all together as he released your nipple with a soft pop.

“So fucking needy.”

He practically seethed, pulling his head out from under your shirt to glare at you. “M-me?” You whisper yelled, face warm from anger and need. “Yes you.” Yuta shot back, the anger on his face didn’t concern you.

Not when you could feel his cock twitching.

“We’re both needy, you’re just mean, Yuta.” Your lip wobbled, head turning to look at the other hotel bed. Inumaki had seemed to settle into a deep sleep, back facing the two of you.

“Eyes on me.”

You shivered involuntarily, head turning back to face Yuta in record time. “If I fuck you, you need to keep quiet.” You nodded eagerly, but Yuta wasn’t satisfied.

“Promise me you’ll stay quiet.” You felt your breathing stop, taking a moment to start again as you quietly whispered “I promise.” Yuta still seemed skeptical.

“I still don’t believe you.” He mumbled as he began pulling down his briefs, just enough for his cock to spring free. “Yuta I mean it.” You whined, hands rushing to yank your sleep shorts and panties off for him.

“You’re never quiet, pretty girl.” Warmth flooded you, causing you to suck your lip between your teeth as your hips raised. Yuta helped you despite scolding you, tossing the two clothing items off to the side.

“If you can’t stay quiet, I’ll stop.”

You nodded, taking your vow to silence literally as his fist wrapped around his cock. Your legs spread further to accommodate him, cunt throbbing with the desire for him to be inside of you.

“Tell me you understand, pretty girl.”

He froze just as he positioned himself at your entrance, teasing you further by prolonging what you needed. “I understand, Yuta.” And he pressed in, watching your mouth fall open as your chest rose and froze.

You were good, holding in the moan that was threatening to burst your lungs as he sunk deep. Your cunt had no resistance, swallowing his cock whole as he bottomed out inside of your tight heat. “Good girl.” He groaned.

Your hands found their way to his biceps, nails digging into his muscles as your legs locked around his hips. You managed to exhale the breath you had been holding, barely making a noise louder than a pant.

Yuta wasted no time, hips drawing back and snapping forward. Your head fell back against the pillow, mouth open as a quiet gasp left you. He was focused, head dipping down to watch where he appeared and disappeared inside of you.

Never mind being mindful of the noises you were making, Yuta had to be mindful of the noises your bodies made. Anything louder than the squelching and bed creaking and he was certain Inumaki would be waking up.

But it was hard to be rational when your cunt was suctioning to him, velvety walls begging to milk him for all he was worth. He’d give it to you, no questions asked.

Every drag of his cock had you arching, scratching at his biceps as sweat dripped down your brow. You couldn’t think straight, breath catching in your lungs every few thrusts as you tried to ignore the urge to scream his name. “K-kiss me.” You managed to choke out.

It certainly wasn’t a whisper, the rustling in the bed over confirmed that. Yuta dropped lower, practically draping his body over you, hips rolling slowly rather than thrusting as he slotted his lips over yours.

Still, he was listening, silently praying Inumaki wouldn’t wake up because dammit he was certain he wouldn’t be able to stop fucking you even if he did.

“Y-Yuta-“ it was muffled, swallowed whole by his tongue slipping past your lips. You gave in, nearly melting into the mattress from his weight settling on you, the close proximity causing his pubic bone to brush your clit.

You felt it then, molten hot arousal pooling in your gut as he offered to the slightest bit of relief.

Yuta pulled away, saliva keeping your lips connected. “You have to be quiet, pretty girl. He almost woke up.” You nodded, eyes so bleary and lips so swollen that he couldn’t bring himself to really scold you.

Yuta found his pace again, hips smacking into yours and creating a soft slap that was just barely muffled by the hotel comforter. He was struggling to contain his own noises as your cunt clenched around him, one of your hands falling away from his bicep to sneak between you.

“Rub your clit for me, pretty girl. Make yourself cum on my cock.” It was a whisper but it seemed to echo off the walls of your skull, rendering you completely speechless.

You did as he asked, hand slipped down to feel your soaked cunt, rubbing your clit in face circles as Yuta’s cock stroked your sweet spot. “Make yourself cum on my cock, please. You know how much I love that.”

You nodded, mouth hanging open as breathless pants slipped past. They were quiet enough to not wake Inumaki but if anyone were to enter the room, it would be painfully obvious what was happening.

Yuta watched you, eyes torn between watching your tits bounce with each thrust and watching where his cock kept disappearing inside of you. It was utterly entrancing, making him gasp as his cock twitched violently within your walls.

“I’m gonna cum, pretty girl. Cum with me please.”

His voice cracked, face sweaty and flushed as he begged you so sweetly. It sent electricity straight down your spine, clit throbbing as your orgasm built. The thrusts got harder, a little sloppier… and louder.

Not that Yuta could care in that moment, he seemed to forget everything he had been drilling in your head as he moaned your name. You whined, eyes widening at the volume of his voice as your walls clenched again.

You were close, fueled by the feeling of his cock twitching deep inside of you. “Cum with me, please.”

Breathless, you nodded, head falling back as you brought yourself over the edge just as Yuta did. His hips stuttering before burying deep, pushing against your cervix as he spilled his load in you.

You had barely registered the warm gush that flooded between your thighs, not until Yuta collapsed on top of you. “Fuck.” You offered weakly, feeling the dampness on the sheets below accompanied by your sweaty skin.

“We made a mess.” Yuta’s tone was sheepish, vibrating your neck as he spoke into it. “It definitely reeks of sex in here too…” you felt your face burning, realizing there wasn’t any windows open to allow ventilation.

“He’ll figure it out regardless.” Yuta sounded defeated but you could feel a smile on his face. “I’ll take the blame… since I’m the one who can’t resist your breasts.”

“You better.”

[brokenmenswhore]

release | jacaerys velaryon

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader

summary: jace is on the brink of snapping and lashing out toward his mother and her council for their lack of action against the greens, so you give him another outlet for his frustration

warnings: smut (MDNI 18+), rough sex, jace is a lil rough & feral in this one

────── ☾ ──────

“And what of those who sent him?” Jacaerys snapped, questioning his mother as they buried yet another body.

He was angry. He couldn’t help but lose people. Everyone around him kept fleeing or dying, and he tried desperately to hold his tongue, but his patience was slipping. War was inevitable, and he was frustrated at his mother’s lack of action toward the opposing force. He wanted revenge, retaliation, and most of all, he wanted to be the one to give it.

As the eldest son, however, he tried not to cause a scene, knowing he played an important role in this war, and hoping that his silence and unwavering support of his mother’s decisions would breed the proper trust that was needed to allow him more involvement and access in the war.

He was evidently tense at council meetings. His tongue was becoming sharper with each sentence related to the war. He couldn’t help it. He pushed through the doors to your chambers, angry and frustrated from the events of the day.

He stopped short when he saw you turn in your chair to face him. Taking a deep breath, the tension in his body dropped. “I need a hug.”

You smiled, standing and approaching him, wrapping your arms around his waist. You remained a step lower than him in the entrance. He rested his chin on the top of your head.

“I just don’t understand why she won’t do anything,” he began, “I know she doesn’t want this war. I don’t want this war, but it’s happening. We have all lost so much, and it will not stop. Why won’t she do something?”

“Perhaps she believes it can still be avoided,” you responded.

“How much blood from my family must be split before she realizes it can’t?”

Your heart ached for him. You wanted to hold him in the hug forever, curing all his pain and never letting him out of the room.

“I’m sorry, Jacaerys.”

“It is not a fault of yours,” he replied, “it is just exhausting. I wish for a break from all of this, even if just momentary. I feel as if any moment, I may break, and I do not wish to take these frustrations out on my mother or her council. It would only cause the situation to worsen.”

You looked up at him, “then take it out on me.”

“What?”

“Take your frustrations out on me, Jace.”

“You do not deserve such treatment.”

You sighed, “but I am asking for it. Allow yourself to have an outlet. Why else am I here?”

Jacaerys was bewildered, “you are not here for me to take my anger out on. I would not do such a thing.”

“I wish for you to relax. I would not speak the offer if I did not mean it. Please, Jace.”

Jace leaned down to kiss you, initiating a sweet, intimate kiss before his frustrations took over and he deepened the kiss, gripping your thighs, causing you to jump and wrap your legs around his waist. He continued to kiss you as you clung to his shoulders, his steps towards the bed shaking you and causing you to nearly fall.

The Velaryon prince was usually quite nice to you, making sure to take things slow and constantly checking in on your comfort and pleasure. He would typically slowly drop your back onto the mattress, but tonight, he quite literally pushed you down, keeping your legs wrapped around his waist as he kissed you into the mattress.

You moaned at the eagerness of it all, Jace’s hands running up and down your side, gripping your waist and pushing your hips down, until your legs were no longer wrapped around his body. Never breaking the kiss, he lifted up your nightdress, his fingers finding their way under your small clothes, not giving you time to ease into it as he began roughly rubbing circles on your clit.

You squealed into the kiss. Jace moved to begin sucking bruises into your neck, his hair falling in front of his face, as he continued to rub you. You couldn’t help but moan, trying your hardest to remain as quiet as possible, since his little brother’s chambers were just a wall away.

“He’s not here,” Jace groaned.

You could barely speak. “What?”

“He’s not in his chambers. He’s out with Arrax. Stop holding back,” Jace demanded, “wanna hear what I’m doing to you.”

This controlling nature was a change, but you didn’t mind it at all. You stopped trying to quiet yourself, a moan of his name leaving your lips as he pushed a finger into you.

“That’s it,” he cooed, “you sound so pretty.”

“T-thank you,” you responded.

Jacaerys didn’t stop curling his finger inside of you, but giggled, “did you just thank me?”

“Mhm,” you moaned.

“You’re too cute,” he said, breaking his frustrated and controlling demeanor for a second, the compliment making your heart swell as he continued to fuck you with his fingers.

He felt you start to squeeze, and he immediately pulled his hand away from you. You sighed in disappointment.

He lifted you from under your arms, shifting you so you were sitting up, as he began to undo his breeches.

“I just wish I could go to King’s Landing,” he started, pushing his small clothes down and allowing his cock to be free, “I’d kill every last one of them.”

He gripped your hair, pushing your face down until it was level with his cock. “Open.”

You did as he told you, opening your mouth as he pushed his cock into your mouth, immediately hitting the back of your throat. He was big, too big to fit completely in your mouth, but you were getting better and better at breathing through your nose to avoid gagging around his cock.

“Not today,” he sighed, “stop holding back or I’ll fuck it out of your throat.”

You listened to him, forgetting everything you know about avoiding gagging, and allowing him to direct your head up and down, his cock hitting the back of your throat with every single thrust. You gagged and choked around him, but he didn’t let up.

“They think they’re so big and bad,” he said, breathy from the pleasure of your mouth around him, “if only they were around me. I could take all of them. I could end their whole fucking line.”

He began to thrust his hips at a vicious pace. You had no choice but to take it, trying your best to continue sucking and swirling your tongue around the head of his cock as he fucked your mouth mercilessly.

“I’d end their whole. fucking. line,” he said again, speaking through each thrust and throwing his head back in pleasure.

“Fuck, get up, I’m not done with you yet,” he commanded, pulling you off of him to stop himself from coming before he wanted to.

You didn’t dare adjust your position without his say so. You sat there waiting for him to put you where he wanted you. He flipped your body over, pressing your face into the pillow as he pulled your hips up to meet his. He took both of your wrists in one hand, locking them behind your back as his other hand guided his cock into your entrance and then moved to your waist as he started rocking into you, pushing you further and further into the mattress.

Your body folded and became weak, as much of you falling into the bed as was possible, the only thing keeping your hips upward was the rough grip Jacaerys had on them. You whined and moaned, your entire body rocking forward with each snap of his hips.

“Seven hells,” he breathed out, his pace never relenting, “are you still okay?”

“Mhm,” you moaned out, unable to form a coherent sentence.

“Shit, I hate not being able to hear you,” he said, pulling out of you and flipping your body so you were flat on the mattress, facing him. “That’s better,” he smiled, immediately fucking back into you with no warning.

You cried out, grabbing his face and kissing him through the intensity. He grunted into the kiss, having never fucked you, or anyone for that matter, this hard before. All of his pent up rage and frustration was being taken out on your cunt.

Your back arched off the mattress, Jace taking the opportunity to wrap an arm around your waist, holding you even closer to him.

He spoke with every thrust, “I. Want. Revenge.”

“I k-know,” you moaned out.

“I. Want. Fucking. Revenge.”

It was overwhelming, and the intensity with which he was fucking you started to make your head cloudy. “J- Jace, it’s too m-“

Jacaerys cut you off by kissing you, doing everything he can to stop your words. “You can take it, baby.”

“I c-“ the pressure was so intense. You could feel your walls start to squeeze around his cock, and his pace was relentless.

“You can,” he said, looking directly into your eyes, “and you will.”

You nodded and let him continue splitting you open on his cock, dropping your waist down to the mattress again as he fucked into you, hands rough on your waist as they pushed you down.

Your eyes filled with tears. Jacaerys had never seen you like this, crying from the intensity, sweat sticking your hair to your forehead as you writhed under him. He didn’t know he was capable of making you feel like this, and he didn’t know you would look so fucking pretty as a result.

“Fuck, baby,” he growled, “I’m close.”

You couldn’t even respond, you just continued to whine and moan under him, watching his face contort as he released inside of you. The final few thrusts of his hips were cruel, his large length hitting that spongy spot inside of you that made you see stars. Through his high, he could feel you close, and he forced himself to continue pushing in and out of you until you met your climax.

Your legs shook as a wave of pleasure washed over you, your entire body eventually melting into the bed with weakness. Jace waited a moment before pulling out of you, kissing you as he did so.

You tried hard to catch your breath, but it took you longer than you anticipated. Jace, ever so attentive, looked down at you and asked, “you okay?”

You couldn’t help but smile. “I should start making you mad.”

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, captive bunny reader, hybrid au, mindbreak

fem reader

Thinking about bunny darling… and the mighty bear who’s taken you captive.

Of course, you’re piss-scared to anger him. Goosefleshed when he’s close, shivering from lips to knees—unsteady and speechless—only able to barely nod your head when he asks you if you’d like his big fat cock whilst rubbing the huge clothed pound against you needily.

You close your eyes when he smiles—terrified of those strong teeth, how a bite could easily snap your neck.

But there is one saving grace in it all, in how all type of shame disappears in knowing how there would be no sense in fighting back. He’s way too massive for you to even humor the thought. It would just be too silly.

The understanding makes you pliant in his bed, nice and soft. He doesn’t even need to use threats or ropes, only sweetly suggestive language, which you listen to all too keenly.

“Can you spread your legs for me?” he’ll croon, and you’ll answer by doing just so—spreading them wide to allow him space between them.

He knows he’s hunted you down and taken you against your will, but your display is nearly enough to make him forget—how you wrap your tiny arms around the breadth of his back, barely long enough to braid your fingers behind his neck—holding onto him for dear life like a lover would—moaning oh-so-sweetly when he preps you on his thick fingers. One is enough to make you squirm—wet and warm and velvety in the palm of his hand as he kneads the heel against your clit. Two has you bucking your hips in return, and three makes you all but fall apart—tears on your pretty face, staining your cheeks raw, begging him to give you the real thing, to breed you, to fill you up with his babies.

Bunnies make such sweet little sluts. So easily drunk on pleasure and the promise of more, you go completelydumb in the wait. When you get like that, there isn’t a single sliver of fear within you—too numb to care about anything but the fatness bullying its way within you, so warm you feel like melting around it like a lollipop on a stick.

You suck his tongue with moans while he pounds you. Your legs hooked over his hips, trying to hold on—but his pace is brutal, and you’re not strong enough to withstand it. Luckily, his paws hold your ass steady—one on each cheek, squeezing you firmly, holding you just right to ram your womb on each heavy hard thrust.

You tell him the sweetest things as he makes you cum—how much you love it, how you adore his big bear dick, how you want it to go on forever.

You know no limits when he’s pushed you into heat. The fever reduces you to nothing but an animal seeking to have its every desire sated. The way you ride him is nothing short of shameless—with your back turned, showing him your cotton tail, your feet in the bed, standing while you hop on his lap, in bliss like you’re bounding about a flower field in your head.

You make no protest as he maneuvers, laying you down with your face mushed in the mattress. He stands behind you, mounting you—holding your puffy tail in a fist, squeezing it while rutting into you with enough weight to make you sound like a squeaky toy.

“Please, fill me up—breed me full—” you all but whine against the sheets, curling it in your fists—feeling his cock run you through, making putty out of your insides.

Yeah—in moments like these, it’s impossible for either of you to remember you’re his captive. It feels too good, too right—so euphoric, it’s anything but forced. He drapes you with his body, holding you tight with his cock balls-deep, giving you his all, every last drop of his love, right inside your starving womb.

And the feeling is so fulfilling, you might as well have hearts in your eyes, panting, “Thank you, thank you, thank you~”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Deku, Kirishima, Dabi, Hawks, Enji, Aizawa ♡ JJK – Toji, Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Nanami, Naoya ♡ BLLK – Kunigami ♡ DS – Doma, Sanemi ♡ HxH – Uvogin

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[yuujispinkhair]

Rough Mission -> Rough Sex

You always offer Yuuji comfort with your hugs, your kisses, and your words of reassurance. But on the nights when he comes home covered in blood and with that strange look in his eyes, you know that there is only one thing that helps him feel ok again: Sex. And not the sweet love-making kind, but the feral, rough-fucking kind, where Yuuji can let all his pain and anger out.

Pairing: Yuuji x Reader (female) Genre: smut Word Count: 1k Warnings: 18+, smut, rough sex, creampie, squirting, biting. Yuuji and reader are in a loving relationship and everything happens with reader's consent. All characters are of age. Divider by @/cafekitsune

The first time it happens, Yuuji tries to flee from you, walking past you with that haunted look on his face, and disappearing in the bathroom, where you find him a minute later, slumped against the wall, breathing harshly, with his eyes pressed shut, and his pants pushed down, his fat throbbing cock in his hand, jacking off furiously in a desperate attempt to get his mind off the horrible mission.

"Yuuji, what are you doing? Why are you here all alone? Let me..."

Golden eyes fly open and stare at you with a mix of pain and despair and something else. A feral glint you have never seen in Yuuji's eyes before. Even his voice sounds different, a low, barely restrained growl,

"Please, stay away... I don't think I can hold back when I'm in this state. Please, baby."

And you realize what the problem is. Oh, sweet Yuuji. Such a hero. So caring and selfless to a fault. He's scared to touch you because he's scared of his own strength. Scared to be too rough with you now that he's losing control.

But you're having none of it. You don't run. You walk over to the boy you love. You tilt your head to look up at him and cup his cheek tenderly while your other hand wraps around his rock-hard cock and pumps it in your fist, milking fat globs of pre-cum out of Yuuji's swollen, dark-pink tip as you tell him,

"I love you, baby. Just fuck all your troubles into me. I promise you it's ok. Please don't hold back."

And Yuuji growls. He really growls, and you know his resolve is slipping.

He fucks you hard on the bathroom floor, rutting into you like an animal in heat, growling and sobbing while he presses you down with his heavy body, taking you over and over again until he has fucked it all out, has fucked all his pain and anger into your spasming cunt.

After that night, he doesn't try to run from you anymore. He comes to you eagerly, seeking the comfort of your body. Seeking the sweet relief he can find in your arms and in your tight pussy.

The moment Yuuji walks into your apartment, you can already see when a mission was a rough one. His golden eyes are on you with that feral glint in them, his broad chest heaving, and his hands balled into fists as he strides toward you like a tiger on the prowl. So strong, so buff, so deadly. You are so wet for him that you don't just soak your panties but also your pajama shorts.

"Come here, Yuu. Fuck me, baby. Be as rough as you need."

He is on you in a split second, growling in the back of his throat as he presses his lips against yours in a fierce, desperate kiss. You still gasp anytime Yuuji lets you get a taste of his superhuman strength and speed. When he rips your clothes off, tearing at them with his strong hands in his urgent need to get you naked and sink his needy cock into your tight cunt and fuck all his anger into you.

His clothes follow a moment later, dropping to the floor in ripped pieces, exposing Yuuji's tall, buff body to you. His buff muscles are flexed, veins standing out from all the adrenaline still pumping through his body. He looks even bigger than usual, so strong, so feral, so fucking sexy.

You moan as Yuuji manhandles you, his large, strong hands flipping you onto your stomach and pushing your head down. A hard slap lands on your ass, and you hear Yuuji growl, followed by a hoarse,

"Fuck! I need you, baby, need to fuck you hard. Please... can I please?"

His fat cock is leaking pre-cum all over your ass in his need to fuck you. He wouldn't even have to ask. You will always give him anything he needs. You push yourself on your knees, ass up, face down, Yuuji's favorite position, offering yourself to him, moaning his name, and telling him to take you as hard as he needs.

And he does.

The growled "Thank you" has barely left Yuuji's lips when he already slams his thick needy cock deep into your soaked cunt with a brutal snap of his hips that makes both of you cry out loudly. Yuuji apologizes even while he grabs your hips and pulls you toward him, rolling his hips against you, fucking you open with hard, deep thrusts that knock the air out of you.

And from now on, it's rough fucking in the most primal way. The headboard is hitting the wall loudly with every hard snap of Yuuji's hips. His grunts and sobs fill the room, just like the wet noises of his fat cock pistoning in and out of your creamy cunt.

It's rough, it's loud, it's messy. Yuuji doesn't hold back anymore, and neither do you. You cream all over his cock several times, shameless and eager, unable to stop yourself from squirting when his swollen cockhead overstimulates your g-spot and the rough slaps of Yuuji's heavy balls against your swollen clit make you keen.

And he cums in you over and over again, not even pulling out in between, cock staying hard all the time because of his insane stamina, fucking you rough into the mattress while his large hands hold you in place and your name falls from his lips like a prayer.

You are both in a frenzy. Both like two animals in heat. Chasing one orgasm after the next.

You push yourself up, reaching frantically behind you to grab Yuuji's hair and moan his name with a voice hoarse from all the loud moaning and squealing, growling just like him as you give yourself over to the most primal need, screaming his name when he rams his fat, angry cock even deeper into you.

Yuuji's muscular arms wrap around you, his large, calloused hands kneading your tits roughly while he fucks you hard. And you urge him on, so eager to make him nut again, to make him forget anything else but the feeling of cumming in you and pulsing his hot seed into your tight cunt.

"Yes, baby, like that, oh god! Fuck me harder, Yuuji! Fuck it all into me, baby!"

Yuuji's teeth close around your shoulder, biting you just like he bites his enemies in the heat of battle. Leaving a mark in the shape of his teeth that you will carry for the rest of your life. He growls and sobs, desperate and horny, even as his hot tears drip down onto your naked body, running down between your tits that jiggle from Yuuji's hard thrusts.

"Fuck! Fuck yes! Thank you, baby, thank... fuck!! Gonna cum again!"

You feel him throb in you, filling you with another thick load of his hot cum, and you follow him a second later. Your cunt clenches wildly around Yuuji's fat, veiny cock, gushing over him and spraying your squirt all over the bed.

You mewl weakly as Yuuji finally slumps against you, his firm pecs and abs pressing against your sweaty skin, his strong arms wrapping tightly around you, this time in a loving embrace. His tall, muscular body embraces you, and his warm lips are on your neck, trailing tender kisses over the fresh bite mark he left, offering his love and care to you now that he feels better.

And you kiss him sweetly, moaning at the feeling of your cunt pulsing around Yuuji's gradually softening cock. There's a tender smile on Yuuji's face when he tells you he loves you. And you caress his hair and tell him you'll always be there for him. Any way he needs you. It's ok. Rough mission, rough sex.

FERAL YUUJI DRIVES ME FERAL TOO 💗💗 I love seeing him fight and get angry, but it also makes me yearn so much for him and want to comfort him. So yeah, he could get anything he needs, anytime he needs and as often as he needs it. I am so in love aaahh 💗

I hope you liked this horny little story about comforting Yuuji with sex ;) Please let me know what you think and scream with me about our fave hero!!

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗

[lymtw]

Thinking of an argument with Toji that leaves you mute by choice towards him. He still talks to you and asks you questions, and while you don't turn away from him, you don't respond to him either. He ends up having to figure out whatever he needs on his own because after a minute or so you huff and walk away from the conversation.

"Mama," he calls from the bedroom, rummaging through his clothing drawers. "Have you seen my gym shorts?"

If he was able to get a word out of you, he would know that you washed them for him. Though you were still sizzling with anger towards him, you pulled them out of the dryer and walked them over to the room. He could hear your little footsteps as you approached the room, and when he turned to look at you, he noticed you were holding his shorts in your hand.

Your eyes were vacant towards him. You didn't want them to be because it sucks when you can't look at him with the endless amount of love you have in store for him. It's still there, but it's being masked by a poker face.

You toss the shorts onto the bed and leave. Toji sighs, irked by the fact that it's actually starting to sting now. Your disregard for him because you're ruled by your emotions and he lets things go too easily because he can't hold a grudge towards you, even if he feels you're in the wrong.

Toji never knew how much he depended on your voice until you wouldn't let him hear it. He depends on you to tell him where things are because without you they would be scattered all over the place. He doesn't know your method of organization, but somehow when he needs something and looks to you in order to find it, you pull it out from right under his nose. He depends on you to tell him he's doing a good job, and to tell him you love him, and just reassure him in general. It makes him feel good to know that someone thinks he's good enough, but recently the one person who feeds him affection like it's as important as food and water, has left him to starve. You haven't said a word to him in almost two days, and he feels like he's starting to go crazy. The sound of his own voice is driving him insane. It's gotten so bad that he had to make a mental note of how he's going to get you back that same night.

Toji leaves for the gym and texts you during his time there. He includes some images because it's now an unspoken rule that he always has to send you gym pics.

[ Attachment: 3 Images]

... 😳🤐

Yeah, I know you like those. I'll be home soon.

You take the time to doll yourself up while he's still out. It's for him, but you won't tell him that until you come back from your "night out". Really, you're just gonna go get dinner for both of you from his favorite little restaurant. You just want to see how far he's willing to let this go, because you're caving. You're ready to apologize even when you know he's not upset at all. You're ready to spoil him in order to make up for those severe feelings you held towards him. You're ready to hear about how stubborn and unbelievable you are for this little act you pulled.

You spray on some perfume and walk out of the bathroom, just in time to catch Toji walking through the door.

"Woof, where're you going, ma?" He asks, setting down his gym bag before absorbing everything you were gracing him with. His eyes flit up and down your body, lingering on the very bare skin of the legs that come out from under your skirt. He can smell your perfume from where he stands, its elegant scent masking even the smell of his own potent sweat.

You didn't answer his question, and left him to wonder why you're all dressed up at seven o'clock at night. Was it a girl's night or were you openly showing him that you have options? Did he miss a message or a call from you?

You grabbed your wallet and scooted past him. You walked halfway down the corridor of your apartment building before realizing that maybe this was a bit much. You would make him worry over you going on a five minute walk to grab some food? All so you can show him you're mad? You cracked.

🥟🥡🍜.

Toji was staring at his screen, waiting for anything from you. The screen flashes like some sort of miracle and your message is seen by him. He chuckles, feeling a sense of relief wash over him at the sight of your little emoticons.

You came back home as fast as possible, bags of food in hand as you patiently waited for the elevator to bring you up to your floor. You took your time walking through the corridor, this time, not knowing how you would react once you saw Toji or if you would immediately say something to him. You're ready to talk to him, you want to talk to him. You miss him, you love him, and you hate the passiveness you threw yourself into around him as an act of retaliation.

There you were, standing in front of the door, nervous beyond belief for what was behind it. You collected yourself and twisted the doorknob, ready to face anything that came to you.

Toji stood from the couch and walked over to you to take the bags from your hands. The smell of his body wash wafted into your nose. There was an imaginary white flag hanging out of your pocket, and it was about to fall out to signal your surrender to Toji.

He pecks your cheek and watches in real time as color floods into your face. It's one of the most adorable things he's ever seen—you standing there so rigidly afterwards. He gives you a soft smile and resists the urge to coo at you for being so cute. Instead, he heads to the table to put the bags of food down.

You shut the door, and within a split second, Toji was in front of you again. "Ma," he says, sounding a little more desperate than he thought he would. "Say something." You stand there like a statue—unmoving, but unlike a statue, you are easily moveable. Especially, by Toji. "Anything, mama, please." He crouches down at your feet, his warm hands resting on the backs of your knees and his cheek resting on one of your thighs. This position made it look like you were being worshipped by him, and anyone who ever saw him do this would know that it was true, because he worshipped everything about you. From the top of your head, to the ground your feet stood on.

"Don't you miss having my hands on you?" They glide up and down the backs of your thighs. He looks up at your stunned expression. You won't look down at him, so he gets to see the way you swallow the words dying to leave your mouth, and the slight widening of your eyes as he lets his hands roam your lower body. "I know I do. I've been in hell these past couple days." He presses a soft kiss to your knee, then one more on your thigh. "I didn't mean what I said. I don't think you're selfish, baby. Maybe i'm just a greedy asshole," he says, rekindling the subject of what led to your silence towards him. His hand maneuvers around your leg so that his palm is on your thigh, making its way up towards the inner part of it. "But, I know something," his lips trail further up your thigh, softly kissing your skin. "I'm greedy about you. That can't and won't be changed, even when we argue like idiots."

You put your hand on his head as he starts kissing up your inner thighs, making his way even further up beneath your skirt.

"Come on, my sweet girl," he murmurs, his lips meeting the front of your underwear. "Tell me you want me to stop. Tell me you hate that my filthy paws are on you, right now."

Your legs tremble at the lightness of his touch, and you internally cringe at how sensitive you've always been for him.

"Toji..." you gasp. You feel his warm tongue flatten between your legs, a slow upwards drag of the muscle makes your thighs quiver before him. You whimper at the damp warmth his saliva leaves on your panties. "Fuck..." you moan, breathily. "Don't stop. Stay there, please."

The first word you reintroduced yourself with being a moaned out rendition of his name was heaven reaching down to pat him on the back for knowing exactly what to do to get you to talk again.

"Open wider for me, baby. Let me see," Toji says, your skirt still veiled over his head. You take a step back so that your back is against the door and widen your stance a little more. He hooks one of your legs over his shoulder and you shudder when his tongue returns to slide through your clothed folds. He doesn't even need to produce that much saliva to drench the fabric of your underwear because you've done that for him already with your leaking arousal.

You shut your eyes and rest your head against the door as Toji continues his act of filth between your thighs. You can hear him panting below you, your taste pleasantly coating his tongue every time he sucks on the garment that clings to you.

You cry out his name with sharp breaths following, your fingers tangling into his locks, gripping and tugging as his lips catch onto your cunt. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," you grit out, whimpering at the contrast between his mouth and his hands. His hands offer a gentle massage to your thighs, softly kneading the plush between his fingers. His mouth moves purposefully because he knows exactly what it takes to make you fall apart with it. He coats his tongue with your essence every time he laps at the wet patch on your underwear, sticky webs of arousal connecting him to you.

"T-Toji!" You squeal, your cunt throbbing with every brush of his tongue. "I'm gonna cum... Fuck, i'm gonna cum..." you whine.

Toji pushes your underwear to the side, and glides his tongue through your generously slicked folds once and you're instantly arching your back off the door, squirming in his hold and moaning carelessly as he sloppily makes out with your cunt. He desperately chases the sound of your pleasure-ridden voice, wanting to hear the way it raises in pitch when he strokes you just right. He doesn't want it to stop, it's been too long. Two days way too long. You tug at his hair with one hand, dragging the nails of your other hand down the door. You breathe heavily as Toji manipulates your pleasure until your thighs are trembling.

Toji pulls away and lifts your skirt off his head. He lowers your leg back down and stands up from his crouched position. He faces you with glossy lips that shine with all the juices he collected from you, some of it drooling down his chin to give him an even more messy appearance. He presses his lips to yours, making slow movements to allow you to realize what is happening while your eyes are closed. You can taste yourself on his lips as you catch the rhythm.

There's a loud smack in the last kiss before he releases you, a feral look in his green eyes as he dotes on your blissed out appearance. You look too pure for someone who's just experienced something so sinful. "Hey, look at me," he coos, cupping your cheeks in his hands. "Look at me," he repeats, staring at you as you try to catch your breath with closed eyes.

You hum, rolling your eyes open to lazily stare back at him. Your eyelids felt so heavy as you looked at him, but you liked how vigilant he was being. It made you crack a grin, a small gesture that had Toji's heart thudding a little quicker, now.

"I wanna fuck you so bad, mama." His eyes trail yours as they look away from his gaze. "If this is your reaction to my mouth, I don't even know what to expect for when I'm inside you."

You look down to see what's been poking your thigh for the past minute or so, and it's the monster in his pants, outlined for your eyes to quickly spot and everything.

"Come on," you say, reaching your hand out to him. He takes it and allows you to lead him to the bedroom.

Toji shuts the door and locks it to give the situation a deeper level of intimacy. There's no one there but the two of you and yet you feel even more secluded by the gesture.

He wasn't aggressive in the way he bared you for his eyes. He pulled you close to him by the waist, your body against his as he peeled your layers of clothes off.

"Stay," he says, when you take a step back. He takes that step towards you again, placing his hands on your hips, and snaking them around to your back to locate the zipper for your skirt. He exhales through his nose, lidded eyes watching the longing expression on your face closely as he pulls down the zipper and allows the article to fall on the floor. His fingers fiddle with the hem of your shirt before he fully slides his hands beneath it, and raises it up your torso higher and higher. You put your arms up and allow him to slip it off your head.

He makes haste of getting his own clothes off, a sly smirk decorating his face when he sees you admiring him from where you sit on the end of the bed as you take off your bra and underwear. You're forced further up the bed by Toji as he inches closer and closer to you. You reach a dead end and welcome the suffocating warmth of his body as he cages you onto the bed.

"Don't do that to me again, mama," he murmurs, before leaning down to peck your lips. "Don't let me talk to myself for that long when you have such a pretty voice to respond with."

You laugh, pulling a small grin from him. "I didn't think you'd care, to be honest. I thought you'd tell me i'm being childish or ridiculous."

"Nah, princess. I thought I was gonna die."

You giggle, pulling him close again. "You're exaggerating."

"You wouldn't let me touch you. Not even when we went to bed, so it was like we were friends instead of lovers sleeping together. Especially with how far on your side you slept."

"Oh, baby," you coo, pressing multiple quick apologetic kisses to his lips. He chuckles at the affection, and his eyes close instinctively as your kisses become more widespread on his face. He missed this more than anything. "What can I do for your forgiveness, my love?"

"Just let me fuck you, ma. That's all. Give me my privilege to all of this, again." His hand slowly trails from your chest to your stomach, a touch you longed for dearly during those two days that you verbally ignored him.

"It's yours," you whisper to him. You peer up at him with your constellation eyes, silently begging him to realize how much you need him. "I'm yours, so show me the use you have for the privilege over my body, baby."

He leans down to kiss you, softly. He's desperate for you, but his lips don't falter their delicate synchrony because of it. He guides the tip of his cock through your folds, rubbing up and down the slickness a couple times before slowly sinking into you. Your ability to tangle with Toji's lips slowly deteriorates, and your focus strays to the stretching happening lower down your body, so Toji picks up the slack and feeds you his kisses.

"Come on," he groans out. Not even he is immune to the rebirth of sex with you. You're warm and inviting, and you embrace the pain and comfort he offers every time he craves you or you crave him. This time is no exception. "Kiss me back, sweetheart. Give them all to me," he mutters, before attempting to connect his lips to yours again. You dig your heels into the mattress and your toes curl as you feel his girth continue to submerge inside you.

Toji cups your chin and uses his fingers to squish your cheeks together into a makeshift pout for him to kiss. He can hear your hummed little whimpers in response to him sheathing himself further into you. He was being gentle, because hurting you is a crime in his world.

"Fuck, I missed this, mama," he says, goosebumps rising on his torso as he drags himself out of you halfway and pushes himself back in again. "So warm..." he says over the sound of your pleasured moan. He sighs, a grunt following as he starts a careful rocking rhythm into you. "I could stay inside you forever."

"I could keep you here forever," you rephrase, gazing up at him with those eyes he unequivocally loves. They've reverted back to the default loving expression you hold for him, the vacancy of your previous gaze now filled with love, excitement, lust, and overall enchantment. It's a beautiful thing to see your hurricanes subside.

He leans down to kiss you again, distributing the kisses on your face and leading them towards your neck. You could feel his abs dragging up and down your stomach with every roll of his hips against yours.

"Mmm... Toji," you moan, bringing your hands to his back. One of them moves up to the nape of his neck, threading through the dampened locks of his hair, the other traces his spine to distract you from how badly you want to dig your nails into him.

"I know," he coos, kissing the spot beneath your ear. "I know, doll. It's always this good with you."

You gasp at the feeling of his cock prodding the more sensitive area within you. "Right there, right there... Oh..." you moan out, inevitably digging your nails into his shoulder blades while Toji directs his kisses back up your neck and towards your face again so he can see the honest expression on it. You're lost in pleasure, vibrating as another orgasm rushes through you.

"Fuck, mama.. let me-" he groans, outwardly losing it at the overflow of your juices. "Let me see those pretty eyes," he pants, gripping your waist a little more harshly as he feels his cock on the brink of expelling into you. "Need you to watch me," he says, taking in the way your lips part to release your sounds of utter satisfaction. Your eyes flutter open to center on his greedy eyes. You mirror his lustful, lidded gaze, the look enough to make him spill inside you, making your cunt even sloppier. "You're gorgeous, ma," he says, mindlessly, as he fucks into you with a little more fervor. "Fucking stunning," he mutters through pants, to which you respond with a sly smirk. The gesture lured a groan out of him and made his cock twitch as he finished releasing into you.

You giggle when he stills his hips. Your combined attempts to regulate your breathing fills the silence that follows. "What're you laughing at?" He asks, massaging your hip with his thumb.

"You tell me that all the time like you're obsessed with me or something."

"And if I am?" he says with a voice so deep you have to blink to see that it's still your gentle giant of a man. "Is it too much for you? Can you handle it? Am I suffocating you, baby?" he purrs, cupping your cheeks while leaning in close to emphasize his points. All it does is allow you to closely admire how handsome he is and really think about what's happening in this moment. This green-eyed, raven-haired man, with the prettiest pointed nose and the most attractive scarred lips, is bedding you, and doing it so well.

"Never. Come closer and bite," you murmur.

He takes your lips in his again, a little more aggressive than before. You asked him to bite, and that's exactly what he's doing. The make out has him rocking both of you a little faster, working you towards yet another orgasm. You nip at his bottom lip and run your tongue over it when hisses. You hum out a little giggle, and moan into his mouth when he jolts into you.

"God, i'll bust again if you keep doing that. I'm serious, mama" he groans, swiping his tongue over his stinging bottom lip. You think he's being dramatic so when he leans down to kiss you again, you bite his bottom lip and suck on it. You gasp, releasing his lip and stare at him with wide eyes as his excessive warmth spurts into your cunt, filling it to the brim and beyond, to the point of leakage.

"F-Fuck... you're terrible," he groans, shuddering with tense abdominal muscles as he lures the entirety of his orgasm out. "Cum," he says, panting as he picks up the pace of his rutting to get you to follow his orgasm. "I can feel you clenching around me like hell. I know you want to," he says, reaching a hand between you and him to stimulate your clit.

Your already labored breathing picks up and your heart is pounding in your ears aggressively as you roll your hips back against his. You whimper as you feel your peak get closer and closer, a cried out and breathy "fuck!" leaving you when it arrives, followed by high pitched moans that make Toji's heart race. You arched your back off the mattress as you reached the zenith of your orgasm with the help of Toji's finger rapidly rubbing your clit while he maintained his satisfying pace inside you.

You whimper, slapping a hand onto Toji's wrist to stop his movements on you. He smirks at the sight of your trembling thighs, your heaving chest, and the sound of your dazed hums. You always were such a delicate thing. So fragile that even with just enough of his attention, he could break you.

"Tired yet?" He asks, admiring your relaxed facial features. You nod with your eyes closed, your lips parted to release little puffs of air. "Thought you'd be. I'll go grab some towels for us to shower." He pulls out of you, taking a moment to admire your collaborative masterpiece.

"Baby..." you whine, sitting up when you feel his weight lift off the bed. "I can't get up." You dramatically let yourself fall back on the bed and stick your tongue out to portray your exhaustion.

"Get up, you faker. That's all you have to do and i'll take care of the rest."

"Too tired to wash myself right now..." you say, waking up for a second before closing your eyes again. Toji can see the sly grin on your face and the little shake of your stomach as you stifle your giggles.

"Guess you're too tired to eat, too, huh? You know i've got a huge appetite, and I could eat all that food you brought by myself."

"You wouldn't," you say, abruptly sitting up on the bed and squinting at him. "There's enough to feed three people in those bags."

"I've got the stomach of three people in one, so you better catch up before you're left with my seconds."

You sigh, too tired to move, but you get up anyway and trail behind Toji. "Baby, can you pleeease clean me up? I'm beat."

He puts his hands on your shoulders as he now walks behind you. "Sure, but don't complain when I take longer on certain areas."

[satoruhour]

AFTER MISSION HOURS

a/n: mb guys, i cant escape the soft dom allegations i just love it too much. but gojo is a little rougher in this. wrote this as a result of the latest jjk ep and uuuhhhhhmmmm imma need him to be angry more CAAUUUUSEEEEE .....

warnings: sorta rough dom!gojo, fem!reader, face-fucking, deep-throating, oral (m receiving), multiple rounds, unprotected sex, spitting on your pussy, praise, degradation, use of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, creampie / breeding kink, aftercare and cute gojo at the end, n*sfw under the cut

“s— satoru?” you’re taken aback when he stalks through the door, almost making a dent in the wall from how hard he slams it open and the darkness of the front door light does his eyes justice in showing just how bright they are. albeit a little less blue and swirling with something darker and you’re taken aback when he finally walks up to you and seizes your wrist.

“’toru— you should go see shoko—!” you’re surprised when he whirls you around and nods his head towards the big sofa wordlessly and while you’re not a stranger to gojo’s outbursts when you’re arguing about how he needs to value his life more or when he’s uptight from a stressful meeting with the higher-ups, but never like this. frankly, you’ve never even had to courage to tell him all the times he’s stared at you with hooded eyes and a frown etched onto his face, you had to hold yourself back from jumping him.

but now he’s taking matters into his own hands.

you yelp in shock as he pushes you onto your hands and knees and you look back at how he kneels in front of your slowly soaking underwear. gojo plants his hands on your ass and kneads, bringing his nose right up to your pussy lips and licks a stripe over the fabric.

“so wet jus’ from that? fuckin’ slut,” he whispers just loud enough for you to hear and you’re ashamed to admit that you like it a little too much when you let out a small whine unknowingly. “oh? like it when i call you a little slut?”

he makes sure to spit out the last part and his anger and stress lowers a little just seeing how you wiggle your butt closer to him and a smile spreads on your face. there’s a little twinkle in your eye when you see the way your boyfriend’s hands make their way down to his pants but he stops short, larger hands wrapping around your waist to flip you over. thank god the couch was big, and he inches his way up your body.

“c’mon. take my cock out,” he’s staring at you from above, a sight you weren’t used to, rather more accustomed to having him below you but this new change sends chills right down to your core. you tug at his pants impatiently and satoru watches with a close eye how you scramble to pull down his underwear and the way your lips part slightly. gojo hums softly when you start stroking it to full hardness and the awe on your face is just so adorable.

“suck.” you didn’t need to be told twice, bringing his angry weeping tip right to your mouth to suckle the pre-cum out of it and your eyes flick up just as he smirks. your mouth’s so full of him, moaning around his length as you bob your head in the uncomfortable position. “all ya good for, huh? made just f’r suckin’ me off.”

this gojo was miles off from your loving boyfriend but you loved it all the same, nodding and hollowing your cheeks and using your hands for the places you can’t reach. your mouth and hands were no comparison to your tight cunt but they’re second best, so warm and pliant. you stare up at him before coming off and drool drips down the side of your mouth.

“fuck my mouth, satoru,” your pleading eyes are too much for him, both hands still stroking him non-stop as you mix in your saliva with his pre-cum, lewd noises filling the hall. “please?”

gojo simply laughs, a laugh that definitely says i should do this more, “sure, baby.”

and while his stress is immediately gone from seeing you beg, he’s not any more gentle as he lines his cock along your lips and holds onto the arm rests of the couch and fucks your face. the first thrust into your mouth, he moans out loud before his hips move quicker and quicker and you have hardly any time to adjust. your fingers squeeze his thighs with each ram into you, tip kissing the back of your throat you swear you can feel him in your stomach. you’ve learned to hold your breath even when your nose meets with his untrimmed pubes, eyes never breaking contact as he slams into you.

“mouth s’good— s-shit . .” gojo chuckles breathlessly when he hears you gurgle on his fat cock, feeling your tongue massage the base of his dick. the obscene gawking noises only gets louder when he pushes himself right to the limit, obsessed with how your eyes roll to the back of your head and you can make little noises around him. he gives a little quick glance to see your playing with yourself and he swears under his breath, pulling his hips back and letting you breathe. “filthy girl. jus’ need me so bad.”

“y—yeah satoru. wanna take your mind off . . work,” you mumble, eyes focused on how his cock twitches and leaks pre-cum from his tip and you just wanna make him feel so good — you’re not even that big on the whole housewife thing, but the way gojo treats you? you’d be on your knees all day if you could, taking his warm cum down your throat. 

“yeah? cute lil thing you are.” he taunts, bending his body so he could be inches from your face even as you continue pumping him and he’s trying not to lose composure. his eyes bore holes into your face from how hard he stares at you, breath shaky as your hands move under his jujutsu uniform and all over his upper body.

“use me.” it comes so abruptly even you are surprised, knowing how you liked to be more passive in your sex life and still, this is your first step out of your meekness. “take it all out on me, satoru.”

gojo’s chest heaves and he silently pulls away to face your cunt, removing your panties and he really wants to give you everything slowly like he likes it. he wants to see you cry as he rocks into you with gradual grinds but when you tell him something as dirty as that — he’s doing anything but that.

“haah . .” satoru sighs at your clenching pussy, dragging his tip up and down, up and down your folds and just seeing your juices just flow and flow and he’s hypnotised, “careful what you wish for, darling girl.”

you barely have time to register his warning before he slams into you and you’re screaming. it’s easy from how wet you are and it takes a small while as you adjust to his thrusts and gojo uses your body like a ragdoll. he hovers over you as your legs are limp and unsure of where they should go. this little dilemma isn’t lost on satoru, grabbing your ankles and holding them as his hips move relentlessly and this has your hips lifting off the sofa; he easily reaches your g-spot like this.

“satoru— fucking g-god! satoruuu . . !” you moan at the roughness of his ministrations, thinking you were free from the assault when he lets your ankles rest on his shoulders but all he does is spit on your pussy. a perfect shot and he rubs it in with his thumb and it has you whining out loud at the sudden stimulation, “t-too much!”

“you can take it.” gojo simply mumbles, thumb drawing timed circles on your clit as he watches his cock disappear into you. “can do it when you’re clenchin’ around me this hard.”

gojo grins, sickly.

“ah! my pretty little slut did it again.” the names were an exact opposite from the softer praise you were used to, and still they have you biting your lips and giggling in between moans, letting him fuck you like the cocksleeve you are.

“breed me, ’toru. need it—!”

“that right?” gojo slams into you at the speed of an animal, clearly still high-strung from the mission and notices how you still are making sure he cums first. the thought makes his hips stutter paired with seeing your doe eyes as little pants leave your mouth and he needs to pull away from your clit to hold onto your thighs before he cums and cums and cums. your back arches at the feeling and a soft moan is heard from your lips at how it starts to fill you up.

gojo wastes no time to pull out and see his cum spill out of you before he’s doing a circular motion with his finger and you’re lying on your stomach like a good girl. you melt when you feel him scoop it all up, pushing the escaping cum right back into you and your head sinks into the cushions while your ass only pushes more into him.

“hol’ on, baby, got another load for ya,” this thrust is wet. you can basically hear his cum struggle to stay in you to the point where his cock is coated in a thin layer of white and you can only moan out for him from below. he shuts you up but pressing you deeper into the sofa, a harsh hand on your lower back and your ass sticks out more.

“thaaat’s it . .” gojo smirks, licking his lips as he watches your ass ripple from the contact. each drag of his cock into your warm, cute pussy, his eyes are there, and each spurt of your arousal and his cum as his pelvis meets yours, he’s searing it into his brain, “this what you mean by using you?”

you’re murmuring “yeah”’s into the sofa, knees and arms suffering from fabric burn from how much your body was moving, and yet his throbbing cock is just too good. your mouth falls open when satoru reaches around to rub at your clit again and your hands fly to hold onto his wrists, “oh— right there, ’toru . .!”

it’s all too much for you, the previous load of cum spilling onto the couch below you, the filthy sounds of slapping skin and the sloppiness of your pussy that it’s even having gojo moving aimlessly into you, rather just rutting in you messily.

“g’na cum again— f-fuck,” gojo swears as his fingers on your clit are more frantic to try to match his pace while he props a leg up onto the sofa and you thrash against his hold because his tip brushes against your cervix so good that you’re convulsing in the next second, whining and mewling as you cum all over his cock.

he can feel your cum and the sorcerer moans, switching to short, impatient thrusts into your tight cunt and his grunts merges with calls of your name, eyes scrunched up as he shoots his second orgasm into you. you try to grab at something as there’s the familiar feeling of his tip releasing ribbons of cum deep into your womb, but you come up short, settling rather to dig your nails into fabric.

“take my load like the cock drunk whore you are,” gojo grunts out lowly, grinding his hips into you just to get his last drops of cum into you and he has the audacity to massage at your lower back while your body’s still reeling from the intense high and yes, his anger is quelled a little but each time you’re with gojo satoru there’s always surprise ambushing you from every corner.

you gasp when he pulls you up and pulls you against his chest, moving his hips in an experimental thrust right into you and you’re sagging over his strong arms that hold you up, whining incoherently as you struggle to stay awake.

“alright, alright,” satoru laughs softly, pressing a peck to your cheek, “needa thank my baby for letting me use her.”

you barely manage a smile, turning back to him with a raise of your eyebrow, “can still go . . ’toru . .”

he hums, and pulls you off of him slowly, dick jumping just a little when he hears a choked moan leave you at the feeling of his cum dripping from your cunt but he steels himself, “hm, don’t think so, princess.”

you pout, immediately turning around to hug him close to you and gojo’s heart flutters at your cuteness. he sighs at your adamant stance, easily standing up with you wrapped around him and carrying the two of you to the master bathroom.

“let’s clean up and we’ll see if you’re awake enough to go again, alright?” satoru whispers to you before turning on the shower, and later when he’s stuck in the toilet tidying up his pubes (he saw how uncomfortable you were earlier) and he’s letting you take the bed first, there’s a perplexity and small fear that overcomes the male at the lack of answer when he calls out to you.

but gojo comes out to you slipping in and out of consciousness with only his shirt whilst hugging his pillow and he smiles to himself, getting dressed as quickly as possible and slipping in beside you. a soft smile is still plastered on his face when you naturally curl into his warmth and mumble out a soft i still had stamina, satoru.

“shh, go to sleep, baby,” satoru tugs you closer into him and he wonders if there’s any way to love you even more than he already does, “we have all the time in the world, silly girl.”

shibuya incident? tf is that?? never happened bitch

[littlelamy]

toxic!rafe x kook!reader ; rafe has soft spot for you

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼𖡼.𖤣𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.

“where’s your little princess, rafe?” topper laughs taking a swig of his beer. “is she still mad that you beat up that pogue yesterday?” topper sits down next to a high rafe.

“i don’t care where she is,” rafe says lying through his teeth. earlier in the day topper, rafe, and some other kooks decided to remind pogues that the golf course is for kooks only. not knowing that y/n was surprising rafe with a little noon make up session. once y/n got to the course she saw rafe and his little entourage beating a defenseless pogue. obviously y/n, a new kook, didn’t like it at all. she knew rafe could get a little crazy at times but she was shocked he would do so randomly. she able to stop them from almost killing the pogue but decided she needed to punish rafe meaning NO TOUCHING.

if you were any body else he wouldn’t have a problem but be a you’re his. to shake him from your rejection, rafe need more that just one line. his spent the last two hours drinking and smoking to calm his mind and not think of you, but he just can’t let you go.

"there she is," kelce says looking at the sexy sight. you were wearing the short pink dress rafe loved, with your pretty legs glowing and pink heels laced around your ankles. it was like a goddess appeared before him. you were his fantasy and it killed him that he could just grab you and teach you a lesson in front of all his friends.

"damn she looks hotter than normal," topper laughs wrapping his arms around rafe's neck. "rafe, dude, she looks super sexy tonight. are you going to let these guys hit it?''

"shut up dude," rafe throws topper's arm off. "i can't believe she would dress that slutty," rafe groans with anger. "i'm going to get her and teach are lesson.''

rafe gets up storming at you but not before wiping the white powder off his nose. you, oblivious to rafe's anger twirl your hair, smiling and giggling with the other partygoers, get a hard lesson when rafe randomly grabs you and pulls into the nearest coat closet.

"what the hell," you groan out of surprise. "rafe what are doing?'' rafe locks the door to the closet and stares at you out of anger but mainly desire. "i'm still mad at you for what you did." you huff and folding your arms over your chest.

it was silent for a couple of minutes until rafe broke the silence. "okay damn i'm sorry," rafe says in an exasperated tone. "i should have never beat him with my club, he just pissed me off so i wanted to teach him a lesson."

shocked, you stood there surprised that rafe apologized, which is something that he rarely does. it was kinda hot though. driven by your impulse, you grab his embarrassed face and crash your lips into his. it was passionate and wet yet just what you both need.

while one his hands was in your hair the other was slowly going down your body. "wait, rafe not here,'' you moan as he continues to kiss you. "lets go back to mine, my parents aren't home," you smile as he kisses your neck, mumbling an 'okay baby.'

[yandere-writer-momo]

Not quite Yandere yet but here is a snippet of the Yandere single dad short story. And a kindergartener obsessed with you being his mom

Yandere Short Stories: Mommy (Prequel)

Eventual Yandere Single Father x Teacher Afab Reader

A pale hand shakily held the drawing his son, Jesse, made in horror. Who on earth could the smiling woman beside little Jesse be? Had another snake tried ti sink their fangs into the Isbert family once more?

Liam Isbert was the heir to the Isbert family. A man of extreme power and wealth who many women (and men) tried to woo. Only one had successfully baby trapped him which resulted in Jesse’s birth.

“Who is this woman?” Liam glared at the elderly nanny who frowned at Liam’s anger. “What kind of wench had been filling my child’s head with lies? She is not his mommy.”

“I assure you Miss (last name) is just his teacher. Your son is extremely attached to her.” The nanny told Liam which only made him angrier.

Impossible. She had to be after their family’s money and that’s why she sunk her fangs into a child. How cowardly!

“Notify the school that I wish to have a private meeting with his teacher.” Liam told the nanny as he ran a hand through his dark, wavy locks. Liam was so frustrated with these gold diggers. They were all the same…

He might have to homeschool Jesse now…

.

.

.

Liam sat in the back of his limousine as he watched Jesse excitedly run into the kindergarten. Liam has never seen his son so excited for anything in his life.

The brunette took a long drag from his cigar when he saw a beautiful young woman head towards Jesse. A smile as warm as a ray of sunshine on her face when she saw Liam’s son.

The little boy hurdled his small body into his pretty teacher. Jesse’s arms wrapped around her legs, while his blue eyes stared up at her with so much love it made Liam want to puke. How on earth did this woman charm his antisocial son?

Liam reeled down the window and was about to scream at her when he heard her laugh.

“Goodness, Jesse. It’s only been a day. Are you that excited to learn?” (Your name) smiled down at the dark haired boy who nodded his head.

“I just wanted to be with mom-“

“Jesse, it’s Miss (last name).” (Your name) ruffled Jesse’s dark brown hair which made the little boy pout. “I’m your teacher.”

“Why can’t you be my mommy? You’re so nice to me…”

(Your name) laughed as she bent down to pick Jesse up. “Because I would have to date your dad and I don’t really have any interest in men.”

Jesse thought for a minute and then he scrunched his face. “Daddy is kind of mean and he’s smelly.”

“You’re not supposed to say your daddy is mean or smelly!” (Your name) loudly giggled as she carried Jesse into her class.

Liam sat frozen in his limousine in shock. She didn’t want to date him? And… what did Jesse mean by him being mean and smelly?

“Sir, your meeting with the teacher will be at three in the afternoon. Do you want me to take you to the office.”

Liam shook his head and reeled up the limo’s window. “Yes. That would be nice, Allen.”

For the first time in many years, Liam felt his heart flutter.

.

.

.

“You must be Jesse’s dad. It’s nice to finally meet you.” (Your name) warmly smiled at Liam who remained silent. Liam couldn’t hear a word she said due to how loud his heart beat in his ear drums. His beating muscle would bring a snare drum to shame.

“Mister Isbert?” Liam was brought back down to reality when his teacher addressed him. His green eyes focused on her concerned expression. “About your reason no for a meeting… Jesse seems to be quite attached to me due to his lack of a mother. I try to correct him but he seems adamant about it. I am so sorry to inconvenience you-“

“What is your motive?” Liam narrowed his eyes at the young woman who seemed shocked. Motive? Whatever did he mean?

“What do you mean-“

“How much money do you want? I’m willing to pay you if you leave my son alone-“ Liam was shocked when (your name) slammed her hands on her desk when she stood up.

“How dare you… I’m sorry that other people have wanted such things from you but I do not. I care about Jesse. He desperately wants a parent that loves him and he’s not getting that from anyone in his house.” (Your name) scoffed at Liam’s shell shocked expression. The young woman shook her head. “This is extremely unprofessional of me, but you never spend any time with your son so I’m not surprised you don’t notice his concerning behavior of wanting to be loved.”

Liam gasped when she slapped a file in front of him that was full of letters from Jesse. Dozens of notes asking her to adopt him. Why did his son want this woman so badly?

“Be a better parent before you point fingers. Now get out of my classroom.”

Liam felt his cheeks heat up and his heart pound in his chest. She didn’t want his money… she just wanted Jesse to be cared for…

Liam was shocked to see Jesse outside the door. Jesse’s little hands clutched his lunch pail so tightly, his knuckles were white.

“Jesse-“ Jesse shoved past Liam to stand beside his teacher.

“Mommy, I want to eat lunch together! Can you cut the crust off my sandwich? I don’t like the crust.”

(Your name) smiled down at Jesse and took the lunchbox from him.

“It’s Miss (last name), Jesse… but of course I can take off the crust.”

And that’s when Liam noticed the pink blush on Jesse’s cheeks. Jesse loved his teacher… and who was he to separate them?

Liam shoved his hands in his suit jacket pockets and left the school in a hurry. His fingers itched for a cigar to try to calm down the rush of emotions he felt.

Perhaps he’d apologize to Miss (last name)? He wondered if she liked roses?

Liam blushed at the thought of her accepting roses from him. She’d be so pretty in red…

[yaymiyas]

THE HUSBAND

warning: female reader, saer being….saer, yan!isekai!crown prince

a/n: i was so burnt out so lets see what i come up with ….its short ik and yes im cooking up something w cynthia LET ME COOK 🫡🙄🔥🔥🔥🔥💯💯💯💯

the idea of divorce was swimming in the mist of your mind hours before you regained most of the movement in your body. you knew you had to get out of this situation in a peaceful but quick manner. in your mind, leaving saer should have been easy since he hated edina more than the devil himself. he saw her as a shit stain satan left on earth to torture him for all of his days. so why are tears running down his face…thats odd? from all of the tweets, forums, and blogs saer had close to no emotions for edina. he hated her through and through. in the original story, he would’ve cheered of joy if she simply asked to part ways. so why was he sitting in front of you crying? was the bacon too salty? was he remembering the good ol’ times with his late father? ever since you’ve transmigrated into this story, everything has been so weird. aside from you being close to perfectly fine after being fed poison, saer has became more careful.

in the book, saer was close to a bubbling idiot. every single assassination attempt was stopped by a maid because he was stupid. he always played it as cynthia and amanda favoring edina but that wasnt the full truth. he was just too obvious with everything he was doing. you actually kind of felt back for the dummy, no wonder gracie wants nothing to do with him. regardless of any of that, you actually started to feel a bit bad for him. it was obvious saer didnt know why he was crying or how to stop it by the way his face was balled up in red confusion. maybe it was out of guilt or for the plot, either way you wanted to help him. maybe he wanted to kill you but seeing a grown man cry really did break your heart.

“now, saer..”

gently pushing your hand out to cover his larger ones, you put on a voice of concern. you want to help the poor idiot but you also want to get out of this house alive. maybe playing the sweet docile wife could do you some good, maybe—

“ugh, stupid bitch get off of me.”

slapping your hand off of his, saer attempted to keep a face of pure disgust plastered for you to see. why on earth was he crying, and why on earth are you being so off-putting? at first, your new actions didnt really bother him. were they different? yes, but they weren’t unpleasant. but now...it was as if the poison made you utterly indifferent to his presence, which he told himself he loved, but the lord knows thats a lie. you quietly sitting there, dry-face, with a slight frown and uninterested body language, angered him. saer was crying purely for reactions. he thought that crying would help him close this conversation and make you jump up and beg for his forgiveness, but no. all you did was lift your grimly, beastly fingers to ‘comfort’ him. what a joke of a woman.

“im finished with my breakfast”

the scream of the chair was louder than your own thoughts, kicking you out of your own subconscious. what even was that about? you were TRYING to be the version of edina you thought he would like, second from you killing yourself right there and then. so why was he acting like you were trying to jump his bones? he is such a wicked man….such a sad excuse of a person. its such a shame his attitude is so sour, you were going to try to soften his walls to see if he would lighten up on the poisoning situation. how did he get it? who did he get it from?

“madam,”

lightly placing her hand on your shoulder, cynthia appeared. scaring you out of your thoughts, you straightened your back and put on the best fake smile you could. you knew cynthia didnt really care for you, as demonstrated by the bath she gave you earlier, but you thought that maybe you could melt this ice queen. her soft ginger coils shaped her face in all the right places, giving her olive skin the type of glow women in the real world would kill for. she had green eyes to match alone with it, making it easy to find yourself lost in them. cynthia was a beautiful woman; just how did she become a maid for this jackass?

“his royal highness has ordered for you to be sent to your room.”

[changbunnies]

Hopelessly Devoted To You (18+)

♡ Pairing: Greaser!Bang Chan x fem!Reader

♡ Genre: grease inspired 50s au, some angst and fluff, this was supposed to be a long full length fic but it somehow became just porn with plot lol

♡ Word Count: 11.2k

♡ Summary: You were so excited to see him again– the guy you'd spent your entire summer with, entagled in a fleeting but explosively sweet romance. But the Chris you meet again isn't the one you remember, and now if he wants to win you back he's going to have to prove just how devoted to you he really is.

♡ Warnings: chan is referred to as chris, smoking (cigarettes), some misogyny + toxic masculinity + fuck boy behavior, some 50s references and lingo, 1 instance of reader shoving chan in a fit of anger / sadness, jealous and mildly possessive chan, minor appearances from felix, changbin, minho, and hyunjin (who goes by sam)

♡ Smut Warnings: 1 reference to reader losing their virginity to chan, references / flashbacks to other smut scenes before the main scene, light dom/sub dynamics, switch!chan, pet names (doll, sugar, baby), public sex, car sex, exhibitionism, oral (f rec, referenced m rec), fingering (f rec), nipple play, daddy kink, panty stealing (kind of), squirting, 1 mention of reader having pubic hair, maybe a lil breeding kink??, protected piv

♡ Notes: i've had this sitting in my drafts since december and finally got around to finishing it gfdhgfh this is incredibly self indulgent as grease is one of my fave movies ever and chan as danny zuko is constantly rattling around in my brain. the build up is pretty short (by my usual standards) as i moved the plot along a lot quicker than i normally would so idk if it's my best work but hopefully you enjoy it!

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

You remember well the first time you met Chris. Lounging aimlessly at the beach with the sunset on the horizon, his feet in the sand with a silver dog tag necklace hanging low over his bare chest, a cigarette from his previously discarded jeans held between his lips. Fresh from the ocean with beads of water still dripping off his toned body, slicking back his damp hair before fumbling through a different pocket for his lighter.

You watched him bring it up to his face after successfully digging it out, cupping his other hand around it to protect the flame as he lit the cigarette in his mouth. You watched him take a long drag, watched him blow the smoke out from the corners of his mouth, watched him sigh before deciding to towel dry his legs enough to wrangle his jeans back on. 

The beach had been quickly growing sparse by the time you spotted him. Groups of friends clearing out to make it to the local diner before all the tables were filled, parents wanting to get their kids to bed before the moon fully rose in the sky, couples on double dates bunching up in one car as they decide to hit the drive-in together.

You yourself were in no rush to leave– you came alone, tired of your parents bickering during what was supposed to be a fun family vacation. You’d stay as long as you could, you’d decided– really soak in the peace the sea brings before returning to your aunt’s beach house, where you were all staying for the summer.

But safe to say, the sight of him enraptured you. He was handsome, devastatingly so– you never expected to see a man with a visage to rival even that of James Dean himself with your own eyes, but there he was before you; and your heart stuttered when he glanced over in your direction.

He had just finished pulling his jeans up and over his haunches when he noticed you, cocking a brow when your eyes met– and you could tell in an instant that he knew you’d been staring at him. His smile made your breath hitch, pretty dimples peeking out on his cheeks as he acknowledged you with a playful wave.

Hesitantly, you lifted your hand and waved back, and he grinned, eyes still locked on yours as he pulled up the zipper of his jeans. He turned back to his belongings on the ground, shook the sand out of his white tee before pulling it on. He grabbed his leather jacket, slung it over his shoulder before turning to look at you once more.

You swallowed, face running hot from his gaze alone– you hoped, as he began walking towards you, that you could play it off as having not put on enough sunscreen before coming here. You were sitting on a towel, legs to your chest with your arms wrapped around them, but you lowered them as he approached you.

He tossed his cigarette to the the side once he was close, letting its flame fizzle out in the sand. He looked you up and down when you stood up, introducing himself with a charismatic smile that made your heart race faster. You stuttered when speaking, and his smile widened, one of his hands going to rest in the pocket of his jeans while the other kept his leather jacket in place over his shoulder. 

Chris was the most, to say the least– and when he asked if he’d see you again tomorrow, you promised him he would. You watched him walk over to a beat up, old top down cadillac, throwing his jacket into the car before jumping in– literally jumping in, hand on top of the closed car door as he hopped over it into the driver's seat. 

He gave you another glance after starting the ignition, and you smiled meekly as you offered him another wave. Chris grinned, raising his hand to say goodbye before putting it back on the wheel and burning rubber out of the parking lot.

You spent nearly every summer day with him after that. Days at the beach spent splashing each other in the water while you giggled, hopping in his cadillac to go catch whatever new flick was showing, or sharing a milkshake at his favorite diner. He’d hold your hand as you walked through the sand, giggled with you over silly inside jokes while eating burgers and fries, hugged you tight after you gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek at the end of the night.

Chris gave you dimes to pick tunes on the jukebox, and would sing along to your selections with the prettiest voice you’d ever heard. He took you to the county fair, would shoot you goofy grins after kissing you with lips sticky from cotton candy, got on the ferris wheel with you and squeezed your hand when the height made you dizzy, kissing away your nerves when you reached the very top.

He won you a teddy bear from the soda toss, put his leather jacket over your shoulders when the sun set and the air began to chill, wrapped his arm around your shoulder while you were waiting in line to buy some popcorn. He’d lean down to whisper a joke in your ear, and you’d slap his arm with a giggle while he squeezed you closer.

You watched him soup up the engine of his car, and he’d take your hand after a long day of working on it, pull you in to dance with him while the radio blared the hippest tunes. When he was satisfied with the restoration of his cadillac, he started taking you out on long drives, wind whipping through your hair as he drove fast through the back streets of the city.

He’d drive you to secluded hills overlooking the city, where you’d make out until he had to drive you home in time for curfew. He’d park his car far down the street, away from where your family could see him dropping you off– because Lord knows your mother's heart would give out if she saw you spending your vacation with a guy that looked like him.

And through it all, days spent back at the beach where you first met him were always your favorite. You would let Chris lay you down on a towel in the sand and kiss you over and over, until you were both heaving and hot. You lost your virginity to him like that– alone on the beach, towels laid down and moon high in the sky after having snuck out of the window of your guest bedroom to meet him.

He’d whisper sweet words in your ear, make you fall apart with deft fingers and an equally deft tongue. Sometimes, instead of sneaking out to see him, he’d be the one showing up at your guest room's window, grinning at you as you opened it to let him in. He’d fuck you there, in the bed with his hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your moans of pleasure, lest your family discover what it is you’re really up to while "alone" in your room. 

Chris would crawl over to you in the passenger seat at the drive-in, sink to his knees and dip his head underneath your long poodle skirt, the flick on screen long forgotten as he pulled your panties to the side to kiss and lick your dripping pussy. Sometimes he’d fuck you there too, parked all the way in back with the windows and hood of the car up to hide what you were doing (as if the rocking didn’t give it away to anyone who happened to look.)

Sometimes, when he parked up the street to drop you off after sharing ice cream at the drive thru malt shop, you’d lean over the gear shift, taking his cock out of his jeans and sucking him off right there, with not nearly enough care for who could possibly see you. He’d give you the sweetest kiss before helping you out of the car, promising he’d see you tomorrow too, and the day after, and the day after that, until eventually your family’s summer vacation had to come to an end.

Chris was a dreamboat that day, as he always was– hair greased back with a few curly strands left over his forehead, loose black tee tucked into his jeans, leather jacket on with its collar ever so slightly popped, his dog tag necklace sparkling when the sun hit it just right. He was leaning against the door of his newly souped up cadillac with a lit cigarette resting between his lips, though he promptly threw it to the ground when he saw you walking over.

“There’s my girl! And ain’t she a doll,” he grinned as he pulled you to his body, kissing you sweetly as you blushed. You weren’t wearing anything he hadn’t seen you in before– just one of your usual white blouses and pretty pink skirts, but he always made sure to tell you that he thought you were the absolute most.

He walked around to the other side of the car, opened the door for you and closed it shut behind you when you got in. He hopped into the driver’s seat after, starting the ignition and turning to you with that beaming smile that made your stomach flip. “What’s the plan today, sugar?” he asked, throwing his arm around you while leaving one hand on the steering wheel.

In the end, you spent the day as you had many times before– driving through the city, hitting up the diner to split a strawberry milkshake, and watching the sunset at the beach; the same beach where you met him, and where the house you were staying in lied just a couple hundred yards away. You were sitting on the rocks, his leather jacket off and resting behind you, his arm curled around your waist. 

His jeans were filthy with sand, as was your skirt, but neither of you cared– you just stayed there together, watching the sun sink lower and the waves crash against the shore. Chris kissed you when you looked up at him with watery eyes, agonized over the idea of never seeing him again. He’d given you the best summer of your entire life, and all you wanted was to stay– but you couldn’t. And though he comforted you the best he could, you both knew it was the end.

Chris held your hand to help you off the rocks, gave you a kiss before you turned away to make the walk to your aunt’s beach house. And you both knew it was the end– but not just yet. He came to your window later that night, and you let him in, bringing your hands to his face and eagerly pressing your lips to his.

He walked you back to the bed as you kissed him, laid you back gently and crawled between your legs. He made you cum on his fingers before reaching into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a condom and tearing it open with his teeth. He rolled it easily down his cock, his jeans having fallen down his legs just enough to let him fuck you.

You reached your hands underneath his shirt, hungrily tracing your hands over every inch of his skin. Your nightgown was bunched above your thighs, legs spread wide to accommodate him. He eventually pulled the top of it down too, exposing your chest to him and leaving your stomach as the only covered part of your body.

Sweat dripped from his brow, his normally perfectly slicked hair tousled from your fingers sliding through it– and you didn't care that the pomade in his hair dirtied your fingers; in fact, it made it feel nicer when you brought your hand to one of your breasts, and rolled your nipples between them. Your stomach flipped when he grinned and called you a dirty girl, running a hand through his hair to grease up his fingers too and tweak the other nipple not being played with by your own.

He kissed you to muffle your moans and desperate whines, and it was nowhere near as effective as when it was his hand clamped over your mouth, but it was better. He had to slow down when fucking you fast unintentionally made your bedframe slam against the wall, and you gasped, praying no one woke up from the sound.

Thankfully, no one came knocking on your door– and though you were both desperate, clinging to one another hard and sliding your tongues around each other’s with fervor, he fucked you slow and deep after that. "Chris, daddy, please– 'm gonna cum," you moaned when he brought his slicked up fingers to your clit. 

Chris groaned before kissing you again, and you came with a muffled cry, your nails digging desperately into his biceps. He kept rolling his hips into you through it, your body trembling with sensitivity until he eventually came too, all his cum spilling into the condom. 

He stayed for a while after that, holding you close and wiping tears from your eyes with his thumbs. He snuck out in the middle of the night, promised you despite it all that it wasn’t the end– you’d see each other again someday, he just knew it; he wanted you to believe it too.

You got a couple of hours of sleep before morning, and gave your family the best smile you could manage as you tossed your luggage in the trunk of your dad's chevy bel air. You slouched in the back seat, trying not to cry and wishing more than anything you were in Chris’ old cadillac instead.

The Chris you reunited with wasn’t yours, and if it was, then fate was cruel for bringing you back to him.

The Chris you knew wouldn’t have looked at you like that– like you’re a desperate and fast girl, or an overly smitten near stranger hoping to get her kicks from him one last time while his friends snickered behind him. The Chris you knew wouldn’t join in on their snickering, tilting his head with an amused expression, tongue poking his cheek as he combs his fingers through his slicked back hair.

The Chris you reunited with wasn't yours, and the realization that you didn't really know him the way you thought you did utterly broke your heart.

You were back in the city– your parents, after having settled whatever marital disputes they were having, decided to settle down here. They loved their time together in the city when all their little tiffs were said and done, and they could tell you loved it here too.

They thought it’d benefit everyone to set up shop somewhere new, where everyone could reset. Plus, your mom wanted to be close to her sister again– and you certainly wouldn’t complain about spending more time at your aunt’s beach house.

You desperately wanted to see Chris again, and you knew it’d only be a matter of time before you did– unlike you, he grew up in the city, lived here his entire life. And while it’d been months since you parted at the end of summer considering your parents had to do a lot of work to shift the family business to a new location while also looking for a decent house up for sale, it would happen eventually– you were certain of it.

And soon enough you did see him, knew in an instant it was him even at a distance– because you’d recognize his restored cadillac anywhere. He was leaning against the car door like usual, cigarette in his mouth and leather jacket on his back, with a circle of friends around him. You never met his friends– he told you they were pigs, said that you wouldn’t like them much.

Besides, you were only going to be in town a few short months– why waste your precious few days hanging around with other people when you could be alone? That’s what he always told you– and as you tentatively began to walk up the street closer to them, you could tell they certainly did talk more vulgarly than you were used to hearing.

“C’mon man, you gotta let me borrow her,” one of his friends begged in reference to his car, “she’s a real pussy wagon. My chick’ll cream if I pick her up in it.” “Get your own wheels, bozo,” Chris shoved him with a laugh, “I ain’t lettin’ you take my girl on any joyrides.”

“What if you come too? Make it a double date, you know– and nobody’s got bigger tits than Annette. I got dibs, but she’ll be real nice eye candy for you,” his friend persuaded and Chris hummed, as if seriously considering it. Would he really go?

“Mm, maybe,” he grinned, tossing his cigarette to the ground and digging it into the gravel with his foot, “You do got a point. Tell her to bring a pretty friend, and I’ll think about it.” You blinked, stopped walking and simply stared at him. Had he moved on already? It’d only been a few months, but maybe you fell for him harder than he fell for you; the thought of it made your heart sink to your stomach.

His friend cheered and hugged him tight, and Chris pushed him away with another laugh, running a hand through his hair to fix it up as he characteristically did whenever it got even the slightest bit out of shape. In that same moment is when he glanced over in your direction, catching sight of you by pure coincidence.

His eyes widened when he saw you, mouth gaping open for a split second before he called your name in a mix of utter shock and joy. That was more like the Chris you knew– and it gave you hope. You ran up to him, and he to you, bringing his hands to your shoulders and touching you up and down your arms– truly, he couldn’t believe you were here, and he had to touch you to be certain it was real. 

“What– what are you doing here? I-I thought you went back home with your folks, I thought–” he was smiling, entirely giddy as he looked you up and down. “We moved! I’m here to stay,” you told him excitedly, bouncing on your heels as you stared up at him.

It made you so, so happy; to the point that the contents of his prior conversation entirely lifted from your mind. It pains you thinking back to how naive and lovesick for him you were– you wish you'd have known better. 

“I can’t believe it! I–” he started to exclaim, but then realized his friends followed him, crowding around his back while shooting him inquisitive looks, and he quickly took his hands off you.

He cleared his throat, tucked his hands in his pockets in a gesture meant to bring him back to his aloof state of being, and he grinned– not that pretty grin that made your heart flutter, but a wicked one. “I mean– that’s cool, baby.”

You didn’t like it, your brows furrowing at the change in his demeanor. “Christopher–” you started, but one of his friends spoke up before you could talk much more. “Who’s the chick?” he asked as he looked you up and down, and Chris hesitated. “Oh, uh–”

“Oh, I know!” the friend suddenly exclaimed, hit by an epiphany, “the one from the beach you wouldn’t let us meet– the one who puts out. This her? It is, isn’t it?”

Your face burned red, unpleasant heat crawling over your body as the rest of his friends snickered. He told them you put out? Why would he do that? Your expression crumbled, body trembling with embarrassment and grief, but Chris kept his own cool.

“Don’t worry, doll, I didn’t tell them all the horny details,” he smirked, and his friends' snickers erupted into full on laughs as they slapped his back in amusement. Your body burned hot with indignation, eyes welling with tears as your frustration and anguish boiled over. You shoved him as hard as you could, though it hardly even caused him to take a step back.

“I wish I’d never laid eyes on you, you– you creep!” you cried before turning away, ready to run back home to throw the teddy bear he won you in the trash and sob into your pillows. “That’s not all she laid on him,” one of his friends commented under his breath, the rest laughing and hooting as you sprinted away from them, back down the street.

Chris just watched, body tense and face sullen, heart twisting in his chest. He watched you turn the corner, wiping tears from your eyes before you disappeared entirely out of view, his friends still laughing and giving him pats on the back.

But when he turned to them, he put the smirk back on, and they all hopped into his car to hit the drive-in as if he didn't care about what just happened with you, as if the guilt wasn't going to eat away at him every night.

The next time Chris sees you is weeks later, at a new mom-and-pop shop freshly opened on the edge of the city. He’s there with his friends, all of them jumping out his cadillac before he’s even fully parked, rushing inside to grab a good table.

And when he walks in, it’s not his friends that he sees first but you– sitting at a booth with another guy across from you. There's an empty plate with tiny remnants of ketchup still left behind that he just knows you used for your french fries, and a milkshake between you with two straws stuck in it.

Part of him is relieved you aren’t sharing a single straw with the man like you would’ve done with him, but his gut still twists from the sight regardless. And when you giggle at something indiscernible the guy says, Chris feels liquid hot envy boil in his blood, jaw tightening and fists clenching as he cracks his neck. 

“Chris, over here!” his best pal, Felix, calls from across the shop, and that’s when you see him too. You can’t help but look when you hear his name called, eyes widening when they land on him. He tenses, eyes lingering on you for a few seconds longer before he inevitably joins his friends at the table they scouted out in the middle of the room.

He can't focus on anything his friends are saying– the only thing he vaguely hears through the fog in his brain is Changbin begging the others for spare nickels so he can afford the dog-sled delight. It all becomes tuned out noise, because all he can think about is how much he missed you, and how much it pisses him off that you're here with someone else.

It's Chris' own fault, he knows that, and that makes the feeling even worse– like bile in his throat that he can't swallow down. It doesn’t take Minho, the most perceptive of his friend group, to notice that he’s staring at you and to comment on it.

“What, you still hung up on that chick?” he questions, and Chris scoffs as he snaps out of his fog, leaning back in his chair and acting as aloof as he can bring himself to. “What? No, of course not,” he says, but his eyes still linger on you, fingers twitching with irritation when he hears you laugh again, and watches you playfully slap the man’s arm like you would do to his.

Eventually, you hold out your palm to your date, and he watches the guy dig through his pockets to give you something. Chris knows immediately what's happening– you’re waiting to be given a dime or two, and you’ll saunter off to the jukebox to pick a new tune once they’re in hand.

He watches you rise from the booth, waits until you’ve made the walk over to rise from his table, muttering to his friends that he needs to hit the can real quick. He takes a few steps in the direction of the bathroom, and then immediately turns, going straight to you instead.

He props an arm on the jukebox after he approaches, leans against it and looks down at you as you cycle through the record choices. “Hey baby,” he tries, but you ignore him, don’t even spare him a glance as you continue to give the jukebox your full attention.

“Listen– I’m sorry,” he tries again, and you just hum in acknowledgement, still not turning your gaze to look at him. He swallows, glances back at his friends who are perfectly oblivious to what he’s doing, and then back to you. “I just– you know how it is, right? The guys, they expect me to act a certain way, and–”

“That’s why I’m so glad I met Sam,” you interrupt, turning around to look at your date and offer him a sweet wave. Chris hates it, but at least you’re talking to him now– he’ll take what he can get. He still ends up scowling however when your date waves back, and you turn back to the jukebox, still without glancing up at Chris himself.

“What, you like that square?” he scoffs as he looks your date up and down. He’s smartly dressed; pristine khaki slacks and a brown sweater vest pulled over his white button up, his hair in a neatly styled, respectable crew cut– but that’s not your type.

At least, he hopes it's not; because that would make Chris the outlier, and that’s not what he wants to be. He’ll also be damned if he ends up losing you to a goody two shoes like that.

“He’s sweet to me. And I don’t have to question what his intentions are, unlike with you,” you reply, and the emphasis put on 'you' makes his heart sink. While he certainly deserves to hear it, it doesn’t make him any less upset– not with you, but with himself. He really let his pride and reputation get in the way, and he knows he fucked up. But he wants you, and surely you know that, right?

You finally settle on a tune; Those Magic Changes– the one he knows is your absolute favorite. The one he even used to serenade you with once whilst dancing, you giggling away with a cute blush on your cheeks whilst he twirled you around. He sang it more exaggeratedly towards the end, purposely putting on a goofy voice to make you laugh harder as he dipped you down.

He kissed you before lifting you back up, and then again when you were completely upright, your hand on his shoulder and his arm around your waist, your other free hands intertwined. The way you looked at him when he pulled back from the kiss made his heart pound, but he played it cool– shot you that grin that always made your legs feel like jelly, kissing your cheeks when it made your blush deepen.

Chris liked feeling the heat of your blush against his lips, liked having your hands on him even when it was in the purest of ways, liked the way you giggled and smiled at him when he playfully winked at you. The memory strikes him hard when you press the play button to start the song, and he takes a step back from the jukebox, fists clenched at his side.

You look at him then– really look at him. Instantly he feels small, your gaze that once held so much love for him now meeting him with the utmost scrutiny. He fucked up, he knows he did– but what does he do now? He can’t even trust himself to say something without fucking it up even worse. 

And the pain of it all hits you too– he can see it in your eyes just before you steel your expression, and do your best to act unaffected. "See you around, Christopher," you mutter as you turn away from him and the jukebox.

You walk back to the booth where Sam awaits your return with a smile, while Chris just stands there, your favorite song blaring painfully loud in his ears as he stares at your back. "..begs you please, come back to me, please return to me, don't go away again," the lyrics mock him harshly.

He doesn't know what to do, but he knows he has to do something, anything, to show you he’s sincerely sorry. He needs to show you he still wants you, needs you to give him another chance– more than he’s ever needed anything.

The next time Chris sees you is once again by coincidence, while he’s sitting alone in the parking lot of the sock hop his little sister just begged him to take her to. He was trying to decide what to do with his time– if he left, he’d have to come back in a couple hours to pick her up, but surely it was better than sitting around outside, bored out of his mind while he waited for her.

He could go in, but sock hops aren’t really his thing– the only time he ever danced was with you, and he didn’t plan on changing that. All he’d do inside is stand on the edge of the room and watch his sister dance, and he didn’t much feel like doing that either. Besides, his little sister was a good girl, and she didn’t need, nor want, his constant supervision.

And he’s just about to turn the key in his ignition and burn rubber when he sees you, arm linked with stupid fucking Sam as he opens the door for you with his free hand. And fuck, he doesn't even care that he's about to crash your date– he just needs to talk you. He jumps out of his car in a rush, pulling open the door to the building and heading straight to the line leading to the dance floor.

Chris’ jaw tenses when he sees you– Sam is leaning down to whisper something in your ear while you wait in the line, and you cover your mouth as you giggle. He hates how similar it is to the days he spent with you at the fair, waiting in line for rides and popcorn. The envy bubbling in his gut makes him feel sick, and he has to take a breath to calm himself down before he approaches you.

He steps to where you are in the line when he feels mellowed out enough, you and your date turning around curiously when they hear his voice call your name. Your eyes widen when you see it's him, but you’re quick to correct your expression before your date notices anything off about you. “Can I talk to you?” Chris asks, not at all acknowledging Sam’s presence beside you.

Even when you divert your gaze to glance at your date’s reaction, Chris’ eyes stay firmly on you, awaiting your answer. “Please?” he follows up, and it makes you swallow. It’s the first time he’s ever taken a pleading, desperate tone with you, and he can tell rejecting him isn’t going to come easily to you– it gives him hope that you'll finally hear him out, maybe even take him back.

“I–” you hesitate a moment, and just as Chris’ new, shiny hope begins to dim, you unlink your arm from your date. “I’ll be right back, just stay in the line,” you tell Sam before shooting Chris a look and walking past him. He follows you back outside, and you cross your arms as you stand against the cold brick of the exterior.

“What do you want?” you cut straight to the point. There’s a million things he wants to say, but his built up jealousy causes him to ask the stupid, burning question first and foremost. “Since when do you go to sock hops?” he questions, and it almost makes you laugh– he’s unbelievable, breaking your heart like that and then pulling stunts like this. 

“Since nice boys ask me to go with them. Why, you jealous?” you accuse him and he scoffs, trying once again to play off what he feels. “Me? Jealous? Don’t make me laugh,” he says, unable to help the instinctive reaction to being called out. And he instantly regrets it, but it’s too late to take it back.

“Oh, so you won’t mind if I go back inside then?” you ask as you step away from the wall, starting to walk past Chris and back to the doors. He grabs your arm to stop you, and you look up at him expectantly. “Don’t, I–” he grits his teeth, hesitates for a moment, but ultimately decides to be honest, “I am, okay? So don’t.”

He lets your arm go, and his admission thankfully proves enough to make you stay. You settle back against the brick wall, but you don’t look at him after– instead you look down at the ground, staring at your sleek, black and white saddle shoes instead of meeting his gaze.

It’s silent for a moment, with Chris wracking his brain as he tries to figure out the right thing to say to you. “What you did was terrible, you know,” you end up breaking the silence first, your voice soft.

“I know, I– I meant it when I said I was sorry,” Chris says while moving a step closer to you, and still you hesitate to look at him. “I didn’t believe you. Still don’t,” you reply, and honestly, he can’t blame you– he should’ve been more sincere when he approached you.

But he was being a fucking idiot, still trying to play it cool even though it was just the two of you standing there by the jukebox. And who gave a fuck if his friends happened to look over and saw him talking to you? Why should he care? Is it really so wrong for him to be whipped for you?

Even the first time he saw you again, he should've done all the things he really wanted to do. He should've kissed you and hugged you tight, should've told you how happy he was to know you’re here to stay, should’ve flipped his friends the bird and told them to fuck off if they questioned him. But he didn’t– he cracked under the expectations, and you suffered for it.

There’s a lot he wants to say, but he doesn’t know how to say it– he’s never been vulnerable about his feelings before you, but he wants to try. Even if he screws up over and over again, he’ll keep trying– because you deserve it. And he should apologize again, sincerely, but there’s another question burning in his blood that he has to ask.

“Do you really like that guy? You’re not, like– going steady, are you?” Chris questions and you shrug, finally looking up from the ground to meet his eyes. “That depends,” you tell him, peeling your back away from the wall to stand directly in front of him, holding your hands behind your back.

“On what?” he follows up, and you smile– a small one, but it’s enough for him. “On you,” you answer, and the hope flares back up, drowning out the envy and shame in veins and replacing it with pure, unfiltered glee.

“Yeah?” he grins as he tilts his head, and your smile grows the tiniest bit more as you nod. You may still have your doubts about his sincerity, but the fact that you’re willing to give him a chance is all he needs– he’ll use the time you give him to prove it to you, to make sure you’re left with no doubts that you’re the one that he wants, to promise that he'll never break your heart again.

“Come with me then, back inside– you’re gonna be my date,” he says as he holds out his hand to you. Sock hops may not have been his style before, but they can be for you. “What about Sam?” you question, but still take his hand regardless.

“He can stag it the rest of the night for all I care. You’re mine, sugar,” Chris replies, and it sends butterflies sweeping through your stomach as you giggle in delight. “And your friends?” you ask next, knowing it’s very well possible he’ll crack under the expectations of his rep with them again if they see you together.

“Fuck ‘em,” he replies easily; and you’re both sure it’ll be easier said than done for him to not give a shit what they think, but he’ll do his best. He doesn’t want to do anything to make you regret giving him another chance. “Let’s dance, baby,” he grins at you, pulling you along with him as he steps back inside the building with you in tow.

There’s a thought in Chris’ head that he never before thought he’d ever have– the sock hop was perfect. And well, maybe it’s not the sock hop itself necessarily that he enjoyed, but you– yes, it was most certainly you. The time spent with you was everything he’d been missing, everything he could’ve ever hoped for following your departure from the city and his subsequent abysmal fuck up. 

He knew he didn’t deserve any of it– and he was certain you were going to share a more serious talk about it all later, but he couldn’t deny the satisfaction he felt walking back into the building and seeing Sam utterly bewildered that his date was now clinging to his own arm instead.

And he won’t shirk his responsibility to do better by you– he’ll own up to his mistakes, he’ll change, be someone deserving of you. It may take a lot of time and effort to unlearn all the dumb shit he’s taken in over the years, but he swears he’ll try– tonight is just the start of a lifetime of proving to you that he’ll do anything to keep you.

All night, you’ve been positively radiant– and truly, Chris has never felt luckier in all his life. He delighted in the way you smiled at him while dancing, enjoyed the way you squealed in excitement and bounced on your heels when the live band decided to play a cover of your favorite tune, couldn’t help the way a goofy grin spread over his face when you pecked him on the cheek following a slow dance.

You’re the only one in the world who’s ever seen it, you know– the only one who gets to see his dimples, or to hear him giggle. The only one he’s ever sung to and danced with, the only one he’s ever wanted to stay up all night talking on the phone with, the only one he’s ever taken out for more than a quick and simple joyride in his car.

He could feel the inquisitive, disbelieving stares too– Chris has lived here his entire life, and everyone knows the kind of guy he is. And maybe he’s simply lucky– he knows he’s nothing but a delinquent, knows his reputation precedes him, knows he doesn’t deserve the affection of a good girl like you. 

Regardless of it all, you love him– enough to give him another chance even when he hasn’t yet done enough to earn it. And effortlessly, you unlock the soft part of him– the part of him that desires and yearns and wants. He burns for you, the only girl in the world his heart has ever raced for, the only who knew who he was beyond the rough surface he projected to the rest of the world.

Now you’re outside tentatively standing next to Chris’ car, waiting for him to come back from confirming with his sister that she’ll hitch a ride home from her friends instead of him. It embarrasses him how she grills him with questions about you– and he answers in the vaguest of terms, having to promise that he’ll fill her in on it all in more detail later, but to please just let him go be alone with his girl.

He’s certain that no one else would believe it if he told them, but his intentions to be alone with you are entirely pure. Now that he’s close to having you as his again, he wants to do right by you– take it slow, kiss you soft and tender, touch you light and chaste, respectfully, sweetly. He wants to take you on dates again, wants to save up all his quarters to buy you something special, wants to devote his every moment to showing you how sincerely he loves you.

He wants you to meet his friends properly (after he gives them a stern warning to be gentlemen in front of you), wants you to meet his parents, and he wants to meet yours in turn. He wants to stop playing it cool and aloof and confident when he feels something– doesn’t want to keep pretending that the way you look at him doesn’t drive him wild, not just with lust but with adoration.

And certainly, you know that Chris is softer than he outwardly appears– you’re not blind to the way his cheeks and ears burn when you kiss him sweet and call him that name that makes his heart skip a beat. And unlike you, Chris knew what he was doing– so it was natural for him to always be the one leading your little song and dance, even when on the inside he felt like he was going to positively combust from the way your eyes sparkled at him.

There’s something you’ve been wanting to try– something that you couldn’t before, because your summer together passed by in a blink, and there was so much you didn’t know when your relationship first began. And Chris has taught you a lot in your time together– maybe more than he even realizes.

He may not know it, but he’s made you into a real insatiable minx. And now that you know he’s willing to beg and plead and grovel for you to take him back, oh how it makes your heart race with the possibilities. How far can you take it? How far is he willing to go for you, to prove that he’s devoted to you entirely? Would he really do anything to keep you?

Chris told you, just a few moments ago as the sock hop was coming to an end, that he’ll do anything and everything to make sure you don’t regret giving him another chance with him. He looked you straight in the eyes, vulnerable and entirely sincere, squeezed your hands in his as countless promises left his lips. 

Could he be manipulating you? Is he nothing but a dirty liar? It’s certainly possible– but you’d like to believe the Chris you knew last summer is the truest version of himself. You’d like to believe that the Chris you saw tonight isn’t an act to keep stringing you along. So you want to try something– something bold, something the you of last summer would’ve never thought to do.

You don’t think your shyness will ever entirely evaporate given that Chris is such an utter dreamboat, but he does well enough at playing it cool, so who's to say you can’t do it too? You can be playful and enticing, can play it coy and innocent while you flutter your lashes at him, can smile and pout at him in a way that makes desire spread through his veins like explosive, hot fireworks.

When Chris walks back out of the building you have to make a conscious effort to ignore the butterflies in your stomach– you’ve decided you’re a woman on a mission tonight, after all. The parking lot is sparse now, and the last stragglers from the sock hop all shuffle to their cars, his sister and her group of friends being among them.

Though you only met her briefly, you offer her a pleasant wave goodbye, and she smiles at you as she returns it– though you don’t miss the way she shoots her older brother a look after. A look that says “don’t fuck this up for yourself.” It almost makes you giggle– you like having his sister on your side; you get the impression she’ll chew him out if he doesn’t shape up the way he’s promised to. 

Chris doesn’t turn to you until after his sister and her friends have peeled out of the parking lot– you’re not sure if it’s because he wanted to make sure she was going to be safe, or if it’s because he felt like she’d gotten enough of an eyeful of him being affection with you, and he’d be embarrassed if she saw anymore. You like either answer.

“Hi baby,” he says, soft and sweet as he smiles, and it makes your heart once again skip a beat. Even after hours of dancing, he still looks utterly perfect– not a single piece of his greased up hair out of place. You hope you’re faring the same– you didn’t really get a chance to look at yourself in the mirror at the end of the night to know for certain, but you want Chris to think you look divine.

“Am I taking you straight home?” he asks; it’s dark out now, but you still have a fair amount of time before you’re expected back home. And while he’d love to spend more time with you, he isn’t going to assume– this is a trial period, after all; he still has to earn that, he’s sure.

Calling you his earlier was more hope on his end than confidence– he wants you to be his, but he knows he has to earn your trust back first. And he’s going to be a gentleman– any boundary you have, he’ll adhere to, no matter what. He refuses to fuck up with you again.

“No,” you answer short and simple, smiling up at him as you do. But before he can ask you what you want to do until curfew, you’re speaking again. “My shoe's untied,” you pout, leaning back against his car while gently lifting your foot from the ground to show him, “can you fix it for me, please?”

“You want me to tie it for you, baby?” he laughs a little as he tilts his head to the side, thinking you’re just oh so cute when you keep up the pout as you nod. He gets down on one knee easily, and you put your foot right on his knee, watching as he ties your laces back together. When he’s finished, you don’t put your foot back on the ground– you press it right to the middle of his chest.

“Baby?” Chris looks up at you curiously– and there’s a twinkle in your eye he’s never seen before. He almost thinks you’re going to kick him back on his behind, but you don’t– you take your skirt into your hands, and start to pull it up. Slowly, it rises above your calf, your knee, your thigh, until he can see your pretty white panties, with its precious little pink bow in the center.

“S-Sugar, what– what are you–” he stammers, struggling to form words in a way he never has before. You’ve never exposed yourself to him like this– just out in the open, with no barrier between you and the rest of the world. You aren’t in your bedroom, you aren’t inside the car with the windows and hood up– you’re out, in the middle of the fucking parking lot where anyone could see. 

Fuck, even the times at the beach, when he made love to you in the sand, were much, much more secluded than this– because those excursions were isolated, close to your aunt’s beach house and happening in the dead of night. And this is very much not– it’s barely even 9 o’clock, and you’re at a public venue; anyone could come by, and for any reason.

“I need your help with something else too, daddy,” you say as you pout some more, clearly acting coy, and he swallows as he stares up at you. “Can you do it, daddy? Can you help me?” You take as much of your skirt's fabric into one hand as you can, keeping it lifted above your thigh while you move your other hand between your legs, pulling your panties to the side to show him your pussy.

The action sends all of Chris’ blood careening to his cock– he can’t believe you’re really doing this right now. “Right– right here? N-Now?” he gulps, taking a quick glance around the parking lot. You’re alone now, but still– he never thought you’d do something so bold. Even just fooling around in the back seat of the cadillac with as much privacy as he could give you made you impossibly shy.

“Yes, here, now,” you tell him, keeping your panties hooked to the side with two fingers, while using the other two to spread your folds apart for him the best you can. You’re trying to entice him, and fuck, is it working. He never thought he’d see you this way, and it’s making him feel so utterly electric– he’s a fucking live wire, and he’ll pour his current straight into you.

Anything you want from him, it’s yours– he doesn’t need any convincing, he’s already impossibly ensnared by the rope that is your desire for him. And fuck, he said he wouldn't do this, said he'd be a gentleman, take things slow and build back up to intimacy with you– but if you're practically begging him for it, how can he resist?

Chris takes your foot into his hand, carefully lifts it from his chest and throws your leg over his shoulder before he crawls closer to you. The concrete of the parking lot ground is brutal against his knees, but he doesn’t give a shit– you need him, and that’s all that matters.

He replaces your hand, keeps your panties shoved aside with his own. Now that your hand is free you use it to hold onto the car door and give yourself some extra support as he starts placing kisses to your clit. His lips always feel so perfect– especially when he licks them first, gets them nice and wet for you; the sensation draws out a pleasant sigh, but you both know it isn’t really enough.

Chris likes to tease you, make you wait until you’re squirming and trembling from all his repeated kisses, gets you so worked up you could beg and cry before he finally gives you his tongue. But tonight is about getting what you want, when you want it– so as much as you enjoy his soft little kisses, you’re not going to let him work you up.

He’ll be the one fraying at the edges, the one desperate and pleading, the one who feels like his brain is filled with cotton, looking up at you from down on his knees with glassy eyes full of need. You let go of the car door, bring your hand to his head and thread your fingers through his hair. You pull back just enough to have his head tilting away from your pussy, making his eyes land straight up at you.

“Baby–” he gasps, and again you meet his gaze with that sinfully deceitful pout. “You said you’d do anything for me, daddy,” you say as you shoot him your best doe eyed look, “Did you mean it? Will you do anything for me?” Fuck, you’ve got him throbbing– you can see his erection straining against his jeans, and it nearly makes you grin in delight.

Still, you don’t crack– Chris always does well at only showing you the version of himself he wants you to see, and you will too. You won’t give him your meek looks or timid declarations of desire for more of his touch– he’ll only see a new you; a confident you who knows exactly what she wants. You’ve learned from the best, after all.

“Well?” you demand when he doesn’t immediately answer, and you watch him swallow, swearing you can see the shiver that spreads down his spine and throughout the rest of his body. “Y-Yeah baby, I meant it. I’d do anything for you,” he tells you, hoping you can’t see how red his face and ears are getting in the low light.

“Prove it– prove you want me, prove you’re good for something,” you say, and again he shivers, breath catching in his throat. “Eat it, make me cum.” Fuck, Chris is reeling– he still can’t even believe it’s really you talking to him this way. His brain feels like a faulty circuit board, all his synapses sparking dangerously as they fire off, ready to ignite his blood and engulf him in an uncontrollable flame of desire.

When you let go of his hair, he wastes no time diving right into your pussy, eating you out like a man starved. He brings his free hand to your ass, squeezes and holds you in place while he shakes his head to get more of you on his tongue, his nose bumping your clit and making your legs quiver.

You bite your lip, doing your best to suppress the loud moan he brings out of you by sucking on your clit. His plush lips wrapped around it, the flicks of his tongue, how expertly he sucks– it’s already so overwhelming, in the best way possible. Chris does his best to sink lower, tries to lick at your hole and get his tongue inside, but it’s hard like this– he’s not sure if he can.

“B-Baby, doll, let me lay you down, in the car, let me–” he pulls away from your dripping center to look up at you, and fuck, he looks ruined in the prettiest way imaginable. His eyes are hazy and pleading, glistening with your arousal from the tip of his nose all the way down to his chin, sweat dripping down his brow. “Need to spread you out, I– please? Gotta taste more of you.” 

Shit, you can’t deny you want it– especially not when he’s begging like this. You nod, and he smiles at you in appreciation, a smile that makes your knees even weaker than they already are. You take your leg off his shoulder, and he quickly rises to his feet, giving you a messy kiss before he ushers you away from the car door to open it for you.

You crawl into the back seat, and he follows, slamming the door shut behind him. He waits until you get comfortable, not acting until you're lying propped against the opposite door of the car. Chris hooks your panties in his fingers, pulls them down your legs and tosses them aside into the footwell; it'll be a sweet treat for him when he finds them again later.

He'll keep them, he thinks– stuff ‘em in his pocket and take them back to his room, where they'll lie safe and protected under his pillow. It's a dirty thought, one that'd otherwise fill his gut with shame, but right now all he feels is need– need for you to cum on his tongue, need to give you everything you want and more.

He settles on his stomach between your legs, and it’s certainly not easy, but he manages well enough. One of your legs ends up over his shoulder again while the other stays spread out with the help of his hand holding you under the knee. And finally, his tongue dips into your hole, and it’s pure bliss– maybe even more so for him than you. He’s hungry, utterly ravenous; all he can think, breath, and taste is you, you, you.

“Chris– your fingers, need your fingers,” you whine more shamelessly than you would've otherwise liked, but you know he enjoys it. He separates from you long enough to run his fingers between your folds, making sure they’re nice and slick for you before he presses them to your hole. 

He slides one finger in first, bringing his mouth back to your clit while you adjust to the feeling. Your legs are already trembling by the time he adds another finger, and when he starts curling his fingers to hit your most sensitive spot while flicking his tongue against your clit you can hardly even breathe– it’s just so, so good.

Your stomach is clenching, thighs and legs shaking hard, your release building up with an intensity you’ve never felt before. “Oh, fuck, Chris–” you cry when he presses the tips of his fingers into your spot harder. You’re certain that if it wasn’t for the fact that you’re still wearing your shoes, your toes would be curling from the pleasure.

Your pussy sounds so sloppy and messy, and Chris himself isn’t making it any better– he’s drooling so much, his saliva drenching you just as much as your own dripping arousal. You’re breathing hard, and even your hands are shaking as they continue to hold up your skirt to watch him devour you.

“Oh my god, ‘m gonna cum, I’m gonna– fuck, gonna cum for you daddy, please don’t stop,” you’re crying loud– and you know you should at least try to be quieter considering how out in the open you are, but you’re too far gone to care. With your head thrown back, you whimper and moan, high pitched and loud, eyes rolling back as your orgasm takes you.

It feels like it’s endless, the waves of pleasure ceaselessly jolting your body as your vision blurs white; and you feel wet; so, so wet. It’s only when you finally come down from the high and lift your head back up from where it thunked against the car door to look at Chris that you realize why you feel so drenched.

It’s not just your thighs that are dampened– it’s your skirt, Chris’ face and shirt, the leather of his seats; all of it is soaked with your cum. Your face starts to burn hot, and you swallow as Chris stares at you, almost bewildered. “Baby– did you just..?” You squirted for him, because of him– he doesn’t even fucking care how much of a nightmare it’s going to be to clean his car, all he can think about is how fucking sexy it is.

You simply nod, because it’s all you can think to do– you really weren’t expecting this to happen. “Oh my god, baby, you have to do it again, please, you have to,” he practically whines, and his enthusiasm over it makes you giggle. You honestly feel more than a little shy about it, but Chris’s apparent elation makes it worth the tinge of embarrassment.

You reach out for him, take the necklace dangling from his neck into your hands and pull, urging him to come closer to you. He crawls up your body, and you kiss him, sliping your tongue into his mouth and tasting yourself all over him. “Fuck, you’re so dirty baby,” he groans when you pull away, “what are we going to do, huh?”

It makes you giggle again, a soft thing full of mischievous delight. He basks in it, giggles with you before he kisses you again. “Need your cock now,” you tell him when he pulls away, and shit, he’d nearly forgotten how fucking hard he is whilst wrapped up in pleasuring you. He can feel it straining against his jeans, desperate for stimulation of its own.

“Yeah? Want my cock baby?” he asks, grinning at you the way he always had before; you tug on his silver chain again in response. “Don’t forget, you’re giving me everything I want. Everything, okay?” you say once his face is mere inches from yours again, making him look you closely in the eyes. Chris swallows as he nods, the smile you offer him once again making his brain feel fuzzy and floaty.

He looks you over once more, really takes it all in before he scrambles over the front seat, reaching for the glove box where he still has some spares from your time together over the summer. Condom in hand, he settles back over you, and you help him with his jeans while he tears the package open. He spreads it quickly down his length, and you take your legs in hand, holding them under your knees to keep yourself open for him. 

The sight of you like that is dizzying– legs open, skirt bunched up all the way to your stomach, pussy wet and glistening, with the hair there matting from how wet you are; you’re perfect. So fucking perfect. He moans as he pushes into you, so slick that you take him with ease. You take his face in one of your hands and pull him down to kiss you, a desperate one that makes pleasure lick over every inch of his skin.

Chris rolls his hips into you slowly to start, while you let go of the leg you're still holding to wrap your limbs around him, keeping him pressed close. He grabs onto the car door, uses it to keep himself steady when he starts to pick up the pace of his hips, harsh breaths and low moans leaving him freely. Neither of you are trying to be quiet, the street lights are burning bright, the hood of his car and the windows are down, anyone could hear you or see you– and the excitement of it all makes the pleasure he feels all the more intense.

“Baby, your tits– let me see ‘em, please, can I see ‘em?” he asks between labored breaths– he needs to see them, has missed them more than is probably allowed. You quickly do as he asks, fumbling with the top few buttons of your blouse to expose yourself to him. You tug down your bra so he can see your breasts bare, and again he groans, bringing his free hand to one of them to brush his thumb over your hardened nipple.

“Oh, you’re so pretty– so, so pretty baby,” he says, groaning when the words make you clench harder around him. It doesn’t take long for the car to start rocking with the motion of his thrusts, his rhythm quickly growing sloppier. He’s been so worked up, and believe it or not, he hasn’t actually fucked anyone since you– he feels so high strung and on edge, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out.

He just hopes he can make you cum again before he does, or at least make you cum with him– he needs you to be happy with him. You can feel his cock twitching and throbbing, you can tell that he’s already impossibly close– so, like the little minx you are, you talk dirty to him, wanting to see him utterly unravel at the seams. “You gonna fill me up, daddy? Make this pussy all yours?”

Chris gasps and shudders, goosebumps erupting all over his impossibly hot skin. He knows he can’t actually– all he’s going to really fill up with his cum is the condom, but fuck, the thought of it is making his head swim. “Y-Yeah, gonna fill you up baby, daddy’s gonna make you so full,” he breathes, and God, that really does it for you.

You bring your fingers to your clit, rubbing in quick, practiced circles. Even through the condom he can feel you gushing and soaking his cock, and it sends him over the edge– as do the sounds of your incredibly pretty whimpers and moans of pleasure. His hips still when he cums, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as his eyes roll back, head thrown back in utmost bliss.

It takes Chris a few moments to recollect himself and catch his breath, and he slowly slips out of you when does. He tucks his softening length back in his jeans before he helps you fix your bra, and smoothes your skirt out over your legs while you button your blouse back up. “You feeling okay, baby?” he asks, wiping messy strands of hair out of your face.

You’re both covered in a sheen of sweat, faces flushed and hot, hair utterly a mess– it’s obvious, even with your clothes fixed up, what you’ve been doing. “Mhm, are you?” you ask, and he smiles, giving you a quick peck on the lips. “I’m peachy keen, jelly bean,” he replies and you giggle, kissing him once more.

He looks at himself in his rearview mirror when he pulls away, does his best to fix his messy hair while you lift yourself up from your propped position and stretch out your aching limbs. He then takes another glance around the parking lot, and notes that you’re still the only ones here– thank God. He was too enraptured by you to check earlier, and he’s grateful that no one else has showed up.

“Should probably get you home now, yeah?” Chris asks, looking at the clock on his dashboard and noticing it’s now getting dangerously close to your 10 o’clock curfew. He helps you get into the passenger seat when you nod, and you smile at him when he settles in beside you. He turns the key in the ignition, one hand resting on your thigh while the other stays on the wheel, and he drives you home.

Chris parks up the street, like he did all those times at your aunt’s beach house. He watches you walk over to your house, and he smiles when you turn around to blow him a kiss. At 11 he leaves his car, walks up the street to your home, and approaches the only window with a light still on– the window to your new bedroom. And you smile as you open it for him, letting him crawl his way inside.

He sees the teddy bear he won you at the fair sitting right in the middle of your bed, nestled against your pillows, and he smiles, delighted that you still kept it even after he broke your heart. “I love you, baby,” he tells you in a whisper after a sweet kiss, “never gonna hurt you again, I promise.”

“You better keep that promise, mister. Or I might just have to make you jealous again,” you warn and tease him with a cheeky little smile. He strips out of his jeans and tee shirt as you turn off your lamp, lies down beside you after you settle into your bed, runs his hand up and down your back as you press yourself against him. Head on his chest, with your arm and leg tossed over him, he kisses your head and smiles once more– because as he promised, this is just the start of a lifetime.

network tags: @ksmutsociety @skzstarnet

[sixx-sixx-sixx]

LADY BRIDGERTON - Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader (smut)

Summary: Reader has been married to Anthony Bridgerton for too long, it feels, although it has only been a few years. In that short time, not only has he only touched her naked body once, but he comes home most nights smelling of sweat and another woman’s perfume. Lady Whistledown has caught wind of this, and the gossip sends Lady Bridgerton over the edge. Anthony takes the time to give his wife exactly what she’s asking for.

Warnings: smut; badly written smut lol; infidelity; arguments about infidelity; possibly out of character anthony; I’ve only watched season 1 of Bridgerton; breeding kink; unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it but this is a married couple); female reader/use of she/her pronouns; as always, proofread to the best of my ability

“Do you wish to make a fool of me?” Anthony leaned down to whisper in his young wife’s ear, a firm hand grabbing her elbow as he interrupted her conversation with a young man from Russia, or Hungary. He didn’t pay much mind to the boy so much as the woman who bore his last name, fully aware of the way she had been subtly flirting with many men that night. Taking count of the glasses of bubbles she had — she was nursing her fourth flute, Anthony had decided it was enough.

Don’t make a scene.

Lady Bridgerton felt an intense urge to strike her husband across his cheek, how dare he accuse her of making a fool out of him. All evening she had overheard whispers of Anthony’s name from nasty gossipers. The young Bridgertons had been the central characters in the latest edition of Lady Whistledown. Rumor has it that Lord Bridgerton had continued an affair with a certain singer, without bothering to hide it from his young wife. Even worse? Lady Bridgerton knew, as they all knew, and never seemed to let the truth affect how she presented herself to those around her.

“Would you like me to answer that truthfully, my dear husband?” She turned her gaze towards him, her eyes alight with a burning fury towards the unfaithful man she had devoted her life to. She jerked her arm away from his grip and started to lift the glass to her painted lips. Anthony grabbed the dainty piece of glass and shook his head, “I think you’ve had enough. It’s time for you to go home.”

A bitter laugh escaped her mouth before she could stop it, as a few heads turned to observe the titular couple. “If that is your wish, Mr. Bridgerton.” She turned on her heel and started to make her way out to the cold air, cursing herself for leaving her coat in the carriage. She didn’t even bother to wait for her husband to catch up as she informed the valet they would be leaving.

The carriage ride to the estate wasn’t anything special. She would sit and seethe in silence during the ride, her eyes burning a hole through Anthony’s forehead as he sat across from her. The argument began once the couple was behind the safety of their bedroom door, standing in front of each other with defenses up. “We have been married for two years, Anthony! Two years and the only time you have touched me was on our wedding night. Yet every night you come home, to OUR bed, smelling like some whore’s perfume! I am left to listen to the ton gossip about MY empty bed!” She nearly hissed the words to punctuate her accusations. Anthony had never seen such an outburst from the young woman, she had never spoken to him like that before. She was standing before him, the drinks she had at the ball fueling her anger and simultaneously allowing the anger to sober her head.

“I know that I wasn’t who you wanted to marry, I understand that this was just a beneficial arrangement for you. But I expect that as the woman who now holds your family name, who will one day bear your children, that you could at the very least respect me!” She was angry that he had just stood there and watched her yell, but at the same time, she wouldn’t let him get a word in.

“You cannot expect me to be a dutiful wife and lady if you refuse to grant me at least the tiniest shred of dignity. You, sir, make a fool of yourself, I am merely seeking that same kind of attention you seek from Siena.” Her voice dripped with sickly sweet venom as she spat the woman’s name.

Anthony allowed the woman to speak her mind on his infidelity, finally admitting to himself that he had been unfair to her. He frequently came into their room in the middle of the night when he expected the woman to be asleep. In the beginning of the marriage, he had at least tried to hide the evidence, changing his clothes before he climbed under the blankets next to her. Now, she was accustomed to him laying down beside her without even taking off the shirt that was stained with Siena’s stage makeup and that reeked of her pungent perfume.

“I do not understand, Anthony. I can come to terms with a loveless marriage, but I am so exhausted by knowing you’re giving her that kind of attention, and I have remained loyal to you despite the obvious signs of your affair-“ her rant was abruptly cut short when Anthony floated over to her, his hands gripping her cheeks with fervor as he crashed his lips to hers. Taking only a moment to stand in shock, she pressed her lips back against his, her hand reaching to grip onto the front of his overcoat. Desperately reaching for more, trying to edge him closer to their bed but ultimately allowing him full control over her mind, body and soul. She let out a disappointed whimper when his lips parted from hers, his face inches from her own.

“What is it that you want from me, woman? You wish for me to touch you the way I touch her? Or do you believe my hands to be too stained?” She hated how close his lips were, desperately trying to reach forward as he spoke his mind. She didn’t really care how improper the words sounded as they came from his mouth, because she DID want him to touch her- not just touch, she wanted him to fuck her the way he fucked his mistress.

She took a moment to find her words, not expecting her confrontation to lead to this moment. “Anthony, I am your wife. All I want is for you to- to fuck me the way a husband fucks his wife.”

Understanding that he had a year’s worth of missing passion to make up for, and seeing that deep down he had no other choice than to obey the woman before him, he easily obliged. In this moment, Siena didn’t exist to him. He was purely focused on making sure his duties as a husband were thoroughly taken care of. Tonight, he would go to sleep smelling of his wife’s soft scent, making sure to cover the woman in marks of his affection.

Little time was wasted in getting their clothes off. A mess of hands clashing together to try and undo buttons and layers and loops, the couple grasping at each other as though they were desperate for the other as a life source.

Anthony paused for a moment to admire his lady’s body in the soft candlelight, letting his hands first run over the delectable curve of her hips, trailing up her sides before settling on her supple breasts.

“I’m sorry that I have spent so long torturing you, making you only imagine my hands touching you like this. I promise, my lady, I will do a much better job at attending to whatever it is you wish from me.” Anthony promised as his eyes stayed locked with hers. Her pupils were blown wide, and he realized he didn’t even know what color her irises were meant to be. He told himself he’d be a better husband to her after this, wanting to ensure her place in society as his wife. He’d fuck her full of his seed tonight, and every night after that, to make sure that Lady Whistledown could never accuse him of neglecting his wife’s desires again.

“Please, my lord, please--“ Lady Bridgerton sounded deliciously desperate, and it excited Anthony in a way that he had never experienced in his years-long affairs with Siena. It spurred him to plunge his cock deeper into his wife, his hand pushing her thigh down to her shoulder as he positioned her to angle himself deeper. She would probably think about the pressure against her cervix for the rest of her life, praying to God that she’d be able to experience this side of her husband for the rest of their lives together.

“What is it that you want, Lady Bridgerton? Tell me with words, my love, I want to hear you say it.” In this close position he could make sure she could look into his eyes to see he was genuine in this moment.

She was surprised at his stamina and determination tonight, focused more on her body than chasing his own release. A complete contrast to their wedding night, she felt like he treated the consummation as a chore. This was a much, much better experience. She had lost count of the times he had made her cum tonight, and the ways he had coaxed her orgasms from her.

“Anthony- Christ! Please don’t stop, want you to fuck me full til i’m round with your child-“ her voice was ragged and on the verge of giving out after not holding back a single sound. She didn’t care how pathetic she sounded begging for what seemed like the bare minimum from her husband.

Anthony leaned down to capture her lips in a messy kiss, reaching down to grab her hand that was tangled in the sheets beneath her. He caught any noises that escaped her, the sounds muffled against his own mouth, moving to hold her hand above her head. She clutched at his hand and whimpered his name as his hips stilled after a few sloppy thrusts, thick ropes coating her walls.

Anthony stayed put for a moment so as to not waste a drop, pulling his lips from hers before ghosting them over the hammering pulse in her neck. He gently maneuvered her pliable body into a resting position, slowly pulling himself from her and getting up from the bed.

After he had gently cleaned up the mess he had made of the woman, Anthony peppered soft kisses over her stomach as he made his way up to lay down next to her. She instantly curled into his chest and closed her eyes, taking her time in coming down from the cloud she was on. She could feel his fingers gently combing through her mussed hair, the sensation slowly bringing her back to earth.

“Are you alright, Lady Bridgerton?” Anthony spoke softly to not spook her, his arms locked safely around her keeping her pressed to his body. Her lips quirked into a smile and he took notice of the way her cheek dimpled, his thumb moving to stroke over the small impression.

“I am absolutely content, Lord Bridgerton.” She opened her eyes to look up at her husband’s face. Anthony smiled as he kissed her again, a kiss so tender that nearly brought tears to her eyes.

“I may not be the perfect husband, but I vow to do better by you. I will end things with Siena and tend to the parts of you that I’ve been neglectful of.” Anthony made a promise to her after he had pulled away. His wife reached up to grab his hand in hers, moving it to press a gentle kiss to his knuckles before she spoke.

“You can use all of the sweet words that you want, you’ll still have to prove yourself with actions.” She squeezed his hand gently, “But I think this has been good start.”