GOOD MORNING, BABY ๋࣭ ⭑
☾₊‧⁺...ft. : g. satoru + g. suguru + n. kento + f. toji + k. choso + t. fumihiko
☾₊‧⁺...cw : somnophilia (pre-agreed on), thigh fucking, penetrative sex, pre-established relationship, dirty talk, praise and degradation, mommy kink, breeding kink, satoru and toji are just filthy, choso is so cute and needy, kento is the sweetest husband, it's just really fucking dirty im not sorry
☾₊‧⁺...synopsis : which jjk characters would fuck your thighs while you're sleeping bc they're horny but don't wanna wake you up !!
who does it to tease you ↴
✧ g. satoru ; satoru tries to wake you up, but you just don't want to. and by try, he means he blew into your ear just for you to huff and smack him away, grumbling to let you sleep or you'd bite him. ohh, you are so cute, he just really can't help himself
“look at my pretty girl, such a mess…tsk, wish she'd wake up, now i gotta fuck her soft, pretty thighs instead of that pretty lil' pussy."
“aww, your pussy 's so noisy! listen t' her...she's all wet, she's cryin' f'me to fuck her, isn't she? aww, poor thing...”
“ooh, are you cumming, baby? cumming in your sleep like a slutty little girl while I fuck your thighs, so precious…”
✧ g. suguru ; suguru's hands move up and down your soft curves while he grinds against your thighs, quiet, sticky noises sounding in the room. you're so adorable, he wants to shake you awake but teasing you with his thick cock nudging against your clit is so much more fun
“you’ve always been so responsive, i didn’t think my dick between your thighs would get you like this, princess.”
“oh? was that my name? don’t tell me you’re having a wet dream about me. so dirty, baby, thinking of me like that while sleeping when I’m right here with you.”
“don’t you wanna wake up and move my cock somewhere other than your thighs? c'mon, princess, wake up for me.”
who does it because they are desperate ↴
✧ k. choso ; not outright fucking you is painful, but he doesn’t want to wake you up. He’s so fucking hard, that dream affected him more than he thought, and before he knew it, he was fucking your thighs, not caring how loud he was being.
“baby, baby, fuck, hoohmygodd, please! need y'so bad, so fuckin' soft, so soft, fuck, could d' this to you all the time, never wanna stop, p-please, god, 'm gonna cum all over you-!”
“sticky fuckin' p-pussy's beggin' me t' fuck it, b-but wanna see you look at me. c'mon, c-c'monnn, please wake up, let me stick it in, o-or 'm gonna waste it a-and cum all over your cunt.”
“oh, mmh, ’m cumming, ’m cumming, baby, i-i’ll clean y' up after, g'nna fuck you again 'n' again 'n' againnn, fuck, ’m cumming-!”
✧ t. fumihiko ; poor thing, fumihiko honestly tries to deal with it by himself, trying to just jerk off in the bathroom, but it doesn't work. he knew what he needed, he needed you, needed to touch and feel you around him. with shaky hands holding your thighs, he slides his aching cock between your thighs, moaning so cutely…and when you wake up and start cooing to him, he absolutely loses himself.
“i’m-i’m gonna mess you up so bad, been wantin’ to leave you a mess for so long, so fucking long, 'm g-gonna cum all over your pretty thighs. 's okay, right? right? mmh, okay, 'm gonna do it, 'm gonna cum on 'em.”
“y-yeah, yeah, fuck, your thighs are so soft, feel so good around my cock, gonna cum all over them, m-ma'am.”
“'s so much cum, i can’t stop cumming, m-mommy, ’m losing my mind, love your thighs, they're so soft, s' soft, thank you, thank you, thank you-!”
who wakes you up ↴
✧ f. toji ; it’s not uncommon for toji to wake up in the middle of the night, cock hard in his sweats. can you blame the guy when he's sleeping next to the sexiest woman he's ever laid his eyes on. he thanks whatever god there is for giving him a wife like you who lets him fuck your soft thighs until you wake up up so he can stuff you full of cum instead of wasting it on your stomach.
“’s time to wake up, mama, don’ ya wan' me t' fuck your needy cunt 'stead of these pretty thighs?”
“aw, y'look soooo cute and dumb right now…my pretty thing. c'mon, spread those legs for me, mama, toji's gonna take care of ya.”
“did y' dream 'bout me fucking your thighs? yeah? mm, you’re takin' my cock like you wanted me t' fuck you awake…hm? you want that next time? mm, i’ll keep it in mind, baby girl, now shut up and let me fuck you dumb.”
✧ n. kento ; he usually only does this when he’s very very frustrated from working, coming home to see his pretty baby in one of his button-ups sleeping, thighs out in the open. he can’t help himself, softly calling your name as he slides his hard cock slowly in and out between your thighs, giving you soft smile when you wake up.
“sorry to wake you, darling, I know it’s late, but I need you. you just...look so beautiful, i couldn't help himself.”
“you were responding so cutely in your sleep…would you rather I be inside you? ask nicely, honey, and I’ll give you what you want. you know a good husband does whatever his wife asks.”
“so, so pretty like this, i could fuck you for days. should i do that, my sweet girl? mm, maybe i should take tomorrow off and keep you in bed all take, make sure that my seed takes. what do you think, sweetheart, you want me to give you a baby?”
all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work
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how odd, to watch the creative writing exercises of angry men in the comments of instagram. you noticed it first in the comments of conventionally attractive women - but then it started appearing everywhere else, too.
a young man talks about what lunch he's packing his wife. there is a little story under it, with 300 likes, fabricated from nothing. "this is pointless. if you treat her like this, she will take the lunch to her office and fuck her boss and divorce him and take all his money."
you scroll. a young woman talks about what lunch she's packing for her husband. it is always uglier when the subject of the video is a woman, you've noticed. "you sit on camera and you smile and you are cheating with the neighbor and then you're going to lie about being sexually assaulted by your husband and -"
you stop reading. it has 567 likes.
where did this even become a thing? people making up stories in their head, disgusting long-winded assumptions about intention and sexual disgrace. the evil twin of fanfiction.
like - it's just a lie. it's a lie that they are telling, baldfaced and assumptive. the undercurrent is of course misogyny, but the trouble is that they're so fucking certain. that's what makes the hairs on the back of your neck rise. there is this pervasive, inventive desire for them to be right. that they must be right. all women are cheating, lying, gold-digging bitches. no exceptions.
in the reverse, when women say i'd rather meet a bear in the woods than a strange man - men funnel in from the sides. they defend each other with a vibrance and capacity for empathy you wish applied to like, the other half of the population. a man could be saying i absolutely did kill her and these creatures in the comments would rise up with king shit. she made it happen. they love each other to the point of this sick strange self-gaslighting, a fervent and unhinged cognitive distortion. all men are good, wonderful people. all women are terrible, conniving, seditious, annoying.
and when did it become okay to just, like... say that kind of a thing? at one point, you find yourself typing out a witty and snappy retort. why are you spending so much time fantasizing about other people babe. but as you stare at the screen, some part of you pictures this man in public, saying these things to your face. his soapbox, high and mighty. his mirrored sunglasses and his empty life: tired and lonely.
what a sad and horrible loop he's locked in. he is terrible to women, so women don't talk to him, which he uses as an excuse to act more terribly. he blames this "failure" on women, rather than on his behavior. it cannot be that he is the problem (that the solution is to just put his ego down and accept women as equals) - he begins to invent a sculpture to replace the flesh frame of each person he sees.
it isn't just a woman posing on the beach. it is now a slut with a desperate need for each person to crave her body. it isn't just a woman yelping with surprise during something upsetting. it is a hysterical, unhelpful cretin who will probably make things worse instead of better. it isn't a person.
someone's very sweet wedding vows get moderate attention on instagram. in the comments, a man says good fucking luck you'll waste your life providing while behind your back she's absolutely fucking the best man. this will be so cringe in 2 months when she walks out on you.
you think - is that what you need to be true? is that what you need to happen, for the world to make sense to you?
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CURSED SPIRIT — y.o
⛤ curse! yuuta okkotsu x fem! reader
yuuta okkotsu being your one and only curse.
cw. smut. unprotected sex. creampies. multiple orgasms. groping. dry humping. public sex-ish. fingering. slight oral (f. receiving). overstimulation. thigh fucking. somnophilia. possessiveness. yandere tendencies. mentions of violence. +18!
wc: 1.2k
a/n: inspired by @deviants-forest work! etc. (go check it out) also happy kinktober! :)
Curse!yuuta who creeps up your back, his hands finding your waist and his lips tickle your ear as he’s whispering how much he needs you on a subway train to home. “Not now…” you whisper over your shoulder to him trying not to be noticeable by others who crowded you and payed no mind, too busy on their phones. You bit your bottom lip when he presses himself against your ass in one movement already having your blood rush like crazy. You try to keep your composure like nothings bothering you but yuuta’s hard on humping into you desperately, whining in your ear and his cold hands reaching under your shirt to grope your boob. “need you ‘s bad” he was always touchy, could never keep his hands off you.
Curse!yuuta who doesn’t mind your sorcerer friends as long as they don’t get too close. Your friends can sense the heavy weight of cursed energy from you, even if they got close it was too much to bare sense yuuta was around, the air would fill thick and negative. You could barely go out with them to eat without his fingers buried in your cunt and playing your clit. They would ask you if you were okay when your head is down on the table but you just excuse it as you were not feeling well for a second but yuuta is grinning ear to ear, amused how your well your taking his slender fingers, curling them inside and you can’t help but squirm in your seat acting like your stomach is just hurting though you were about to orgasm. “Please yuuta..” you whisper to him “Come on you can cum on my fingers..” his raspy tone sending you shivers down your back.
Curse!yuuta who watches an “old friend” hug you, his hands in places that shouldn’t be. After you would praise yuuta for staying calm but yuuta would give shake his head only because you would be upset if he did anything and simply gave you a warning “Next time I’ll break his arm” “You can’t be serious” you sigh, you always knew he was.
Curse!yuuta who clenches his fist watching some prick try to flirt with you in front of him knowing he can’t be seen. Even the second time you reject him you can feel yuuta’s anger grow by the second that in any moment he would take action. “I-i have a boyfriend-“ praying yuuta doesn’t get violent “I don’t see him?” His hand coming up to touch your shoulder now he’s on the floor shouting in pain, blood from his broken nose all over his hands, shaken up that he didn’t see anyone hit him? Was he going crazy? “Pathetic” Yuuta mutters luckily he held back a lot, he could do so much worse and this wasn’t the first time.
Curse!yuuta who gets anxious that you might hate him when you get into arguments. He feels like he can’t exist without you, he’s nothing without you and the thought of you hating him makes his heart sink and scared that he’ll be all alone. He didn’t care about anyone else he just needed you. The amount of times you got tired of telling him not to hurt people and you could handle the situation yourself. He’ll plead you not to hate him and apologized excessively. “We can talk about this tomorrow” his stomach sinking by the tone of your voice that it will all end up to you hating him. He couldn’t stand the feeling.
Curse!yuuta who wants to let you know how much he loves you and how much he needs you, praying you don’t leave him or hate him. He glares at you in your sleeping state though he can’t wait til tomorrow he needed you to know now. “Please don’t hate me” “i love you so much” as he’s softly kissing your neck on each side, peeling your panties off. The cold air makes your cunt clench at his sight. He’s kissing the inner of your thighs sweetly and his lips makes contact with your pussy and a small whimper emits from your mouth. “Yuuta” you utter half sleep thinking it was only a sex dream, you were a heavy sleeper at that. he’s burying his lips between your folds trying to get more like he was so starved. If he can just make you feel good you won’t be mad at him and you can forgive him.
Curse!yuuta who can’t wait any longer, his dick pulsating through his pants even how much he gets drunk off your pussy, he loves the taste of it every time but he’s rutting against the mattress. Brings your thighs together to slip his cock between, throwing his head back letting out quiet moans as his cock is rubbing against your clit between your thighs. Your eyelids almost twitching open. He spreads your legs apart and sinks his dick into you watching your pretty lashes flutter at the sudden pleasure of you being spread apart. “Yu..?” You begin to stir awake, he kisses your lips before you start to fully take consciousness. “I don’t want you to hate me” “forgive me please” as he’s thrusting harsh inside you and swallowing your lips. By the time your walls were the shape of him every time he used you so it was easy for him to slide right in, you were made for him and he was made for you was the thought that brought him comfort. His fingers entwines with yours, his cock continuously rubbing hard in your insides. “Yuuta!” You moaned beautifully in his ear, your hand clawing at his back, yuuta loved it, it didn’t hurt him because you could never hurt him he didn’t mind it.
Curse!yuuta not wanting to stop, he’ll never get tired of cumming and filling up your pussy. You’ll be overstimulated begging him to stop it was awfully much to handle, you couldn’t cum anymore but you did as he’s plunging his cock in your abused cunt. The choke sobs and sounds of squelching filled the room “Need you-need you tell me you love me…please f-forgive me..ah!” Rubbing your clit increasing more nerves. “I-i love you yuuta! Ah-I really do! I could never be mad at you” Your words lifting weight off his chest still pounding into you. Holding you in a warm embrace to finish inside you. When he did filling up your womb one last time with his string of cum, your nails dig into his back letting your last orgasms crash into you. You let out a cry into his shoulder, your body trembles.
Curse!yuuta who needs constant reassurance you’ll never leave him, placing gentle kisses on each part of his face. Even though he’s nothing but a curse to you, being invisible to the outside world, Has a hard time showing remorse it’s just what he does to protect you, he somewhat doesn’t know that but knows he can be a bit possessive he just can’t help the urges of anyone getting close to you or worse even laying a finger.
Curse!yuuta bending you over the counter in the morning as you were trying to make yourself breakfast, last night was rough you were a bit sore but yuuta still misses your pussy. “Just a quick one I promise! I miss you so much! I’m just displaying my love for you—“ he pushes himself inside your worn out cunt from last night once again, you whimper at the feeling each time he rolls his hips when his balls slap against you. His hands reaching to your tit, massaging it in his palms. You don’t think you could ever break the curse from yuuta okkotsu.
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Hi, so I have a request, but please don't feel pressured to write it now.
I was wondering if you could please do a scene or scenario where Spencer shouts out in desperation and panic "where's my wife" after a close call with the team on a very dangerous case.
A/N: I put a bit of a twist on your request so I hope you still enjoy it! Thank you for requesting~♡
Warnings: minor injury to canon characters, explosion, temporary loss of hearing, sight, etc.
The force of the blow was so strong that when Spencer Reid finally came to, a few seconds after hitting the ground hard, he couldn't hear a thing.
Whether it was adrenaline, or an injury, or pure shock, his senses were numb, and the only thought in his head as he started screaming was of you.
“Wh-where,” he coughed, shaking his head to try and focus. “Where's my wife?”
His voice was quiet and weak at first, but it didn't matter to him. After all, he couldn't hear the words at all. He just felt his lips form the words and knew the familiar vibrations in his throat meant the sound was escaping into the wind.
You pushed through crowds with a scream as you tried to get through to your team. Spencer wasn't the only one close to the blast.
Emily, JJ, Morgan, and Hotch were all in various states of disarray around you as you ran back from the car across the street. You'd run back to check some files, feeling something off, and the heat and loud boom behind you was the confirmation you'd been looking for that you were right.
After his first few attempts, Reid still couldn't see you, much less hear you or touch you or press his arms around you and not let go. He struggled to his feet and began calling again.
“Where's my wife? Where is… WHERE'S MY WIFE?” His voice broke, and he coughed gasped through each word, but he didn't stop.
He stumbled forward, looking to see you through the haze of dust that had erupted from the blast site. Morgan ran to his side just as he tripped, pulling an arm under his as they stumbled together away from the rubble.
“Where is she? She was right here, I need-” he coughed, leaning more on Morgan than he was walking for himself as his ankles twisted under him.
“Hey, hey kid, we're okay. We need to get away from the blast, okay? Away.”
Spencer kept rambling, though, his ears ringing as he blinked away his confusion and the panic creeped in stronger.
“My wife, where is she? Morgan, I have to find her, she could be hurt,” he demanded, his voice stronger now as he pushed out of Morgan's grip.
Ambulances and police cars were beginning to pull up, half of them already having been on route when your team had pulled up.
Spencer searched through the crowd, sorting through faces until he found the one he desperately needed to see.
Emily and JJ had been thrown back towards the cars, but both seemed to have missed big shrapnel and other injuries. He watched them clutch each other and stumble behind the cars as they called into their phones, requesting backup.
Hotch was similarly talking fast to surrounding officers, and though he looked fine, he clutched his knee in his hand. The already dark material of his pants was somehow darker, and shinier in places, and it was only a moment later that Spencer realized a large chunk of shrapnel was jutting out of his leg, just above the knee.
Rossi had been the furthest from the blast, bar you, and it was him that Spencer saw next, dusting off his clothes as he moved quickly to assess the scene.
Morgan was still worriedly trailing behind him as he tripped over his feet.
“Where's my wife? Where's my wife?”
He finally saw you then, as you dove into the dust and smoke to assist your team. He was just about to fall to his knees when you ran to him, holding him up under his arms as he wrapped himself around you.
“Found you. I found you, you're okay?” He asked, hands gently cradling your cheeks as he asked, tears in his eyes.
“I'm fine, Spencer. Are you-”
He silenced you with his lips, mouth slanting down on yours as he pushed every fear, every emotion, every ounce of adrenaline into your body. He kissed you like you'd never been kissed before, with desperation and longing and relief.
And when he pulled away, he collapsed into your arms.
Luckily, Morgan had been only steps away and took some of his weight off you as you stood, gasping for air and reeling from the kiss.
You were so dazed, you collapsed to the floor, your knees giving in beneath you, and both Spencer and Morgan came down with you. The three of you were weak and traumatized, and emotions were running high, which is why you tried not to be offended by Morgan's line of questioning.
“How long have you two been married?” He asked, and you were suddenly taken further aback.
“What?”
“Reid was looking for his wife. He was shouting ‘where's my wife? I need to find her.’ He was desperate. He was pushing away from me, and then he saw you, and he relaxed.” Despite the blow of the explosion and the now whirl of shrill sirens surrounding them, Morgan laid every word out carefully, like you would blow just as easily given the chance.
“I'm not… we're not…Morgan, we're not even dating. I don't know what that was but…”
Your hands carefully stroked Spencer's hair, gently smoothing it out of his eyes as you searched for answers in the man's unconscious form.
You didn't stop until the paramedics arrived four minutes later, sitting unblinking as they hooked him up to an oxygen tank and carted him off to the nearest hospital.
XXX
The second time Spencer Reid awoke, it was dark outside, and the lights were low. But you were at his bedside, sleeping with your head by his legs, and your breathing was steady. So he let his eyes close again, not registering any of the pain the day had inflicted, and let himself sleep beside you.
XXX
The third time Spencer Reid awoke, you were gone. He wasn't alone, though. Rossi sat upright in a chair beside the window of his hospital room, reading from what looked to be a case file.
“Spencer, glad to see you returned to the land of the living,” Rossi said, noticing the younger man's movement and walking to his side. He pressed a button, and a doctor raced in, closing the door gently behind him.
“Where is she? Where is-”
“Spencer, it's okay. Everyone's okay. The doctor needs to run through some questions with you to check if you're feeling okay. Do your best to answer, okay, genius?”
Spencer nodded, ignoring the small ache in his head, so similar to the headaches he'd been plagued with in earlier years.
The doctor ran through standard questions, checked his blood pressure, checked his reactions, and made sure physically he was fine before moving on to more probing issues.
“Doctor Reid, I'm going to ask you some simple questions about yourself now to assess for any neurological damage.”
Reid nodded, regretting it instantly, but wanting to get out of the hospital as fast as possible to see you.
“How old are you, Doctor Reid?”
“Thirty, I'll be thirty-one this fall.” The doctor nodded and continued.
“Where did you grow up?”
“Las Vegas, Nevada. My mom still lives there. She's a patient at Bennington Sanitarium.”
The doctor nodded and continued.
“Are you married, Doctor Reid?”
“Yes, my-” Spencer had to cut himself off as he processed the question fully. Was he married? No. He didn't remember any wedding. He had no romantic arrangement with anyone at this point in time. So why was he saying yes?
Your face flashed into his head, and he grabbed his chest as his heart ached. It wasn't your face as he usually saw it, but that dazed and shocked expression you'd worn after he'd kissed you.
He blanched and reclined slightly, suddenly needing all the pillows on the bed for more support as he realized the weight of his mistake.
“Doctor Reid? Doctor Reid, did you understand the question?”
“What? Oh, no. No, I'm…I'm not married, I guess.”
Rossi and the doctor shared a look before the doctor took his leave, promising to check in on you again in a few hours.
The concerned look from Rossi as his bedside was almost too much to take.
“Stop looking at me like that, Rossi,” he said, grumbling to himself, suddenly upset at the end of his delusions.
“Like what? I'm not allowed to look at you now?”
“You're not allowed to pity me. Where's everyone else? They're okay?”
Rossi took a seat next to him and sighed.
“Hotch is in surgery - non-critical. They just want to be sure the shrapnel that landed in his leg didn't strike anywhere near a nerve or an artery. Morgan survived with a few bruises and scrapes that make him look even more like an action movie hero. He's coordinating with local law enforcement to catch out bomber.”
Reid nodded along to each revelation, but his patience was growing thin. Rossi was watching him squirm. Reid, waiting for your name to pop up in conversation so he could talk about you, think about you with a valid excuse.
“Emily and JJ are back at the motels, Penelope met them there to help them out. Emily's left arm is broken, and she has a nasty cut on her face, JJ twisted an ankle and sprained it pretty bad, so she'll be sitting for a while. I, myself, survived with pleasantly few cuts, a boon given my advancing years-”
“Y/N, what about Y/N?” Reid finally burst, looking pathetically down at Rossi from his hospital bed.
“Eager, aren't we?”
“I need to know she's okay, and that... that she doesn't hate me.”
“You can find those answers out yourself, kid. My shift is almost over.”
Rossi stood and grabbed his cup of coffee, saluting Reid as he strolled out of the door.
Reid was confused until the door opened again thirty seconds later, and you rushed in, breathing heavily as you took in his appearance, checking for damage.
“Y/N,” he said, sitting up again. “Listen, I'm so, so sorry for kissing you yesterday. My mind must've been jumbled after the explosion and- and I thought you were actually my wife, and we were married-”
You closed the distance between you quickly, grabbing his cheeks like he had grabbed tours only a day before and planting your lips back on top of his again.
You kissed him the way you'd been kissed once before. With desperation, and longing, and relief. And when you pulled back, there were tears in your eyes that you didn't let fall, as you pressed yourself into Spencer Reid's arms.
“Don't. Don't scare me like that again. I thought we'd lost you, I thought you'd kissed me and then - and then died!” You ranted, your arms gesturing wildly, every few seconds pausing to rake a hand through your hair.
“You're not angry?”
“Yes. Yes, I am angry, Spencer. You got hurt again, I'm seething.”
“At me. You're not angry at me for kissing you?” He asked, smiling up as you goofily, a little bit worse for wear, but still shining nonetheless.
“Oh. No. I was confused, but I'm not angry.”
“Good,” he said, nodding, the two of you falling into an awkward, tense silence. You picked at dust on his shoulder as he stared at you, neither of you bold enough to say another word until the tension was palpable and Spencer Reid burst open.
“Can I kiss you again?”
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cw. best friends need to fuck each other sometimes <3 fem! reader
what's worse?
the vivid realization of fucking your best friend aventurine or that it actually feels fucking nice when you ride him as it all happened so quickly, with want, need and arousal— without your mind working.
it started somewhat innocent, the both of you curious on what's behind those clothes of yours when you begin to masturbate in front of each other— your fingers rubbing over your puffy clit as aventurine watches with big doe eyes, stroking his cock.
high off desperation, he urges you to put a finger into your hole, which you hoped he'd be the one to tell you— to make you do it so it's him who looks even more desperate than you did.
he makes a great show of showing you his thickened cock, right and solid and good wiping his pre over his shaft before bucking into his hand, again again and again fucking into his tight grip imagining it's your tight pussy instead.
the one he's watching getting stuffed by a mere finger. he could've made you cum already, he's certain of it.
aventurine begins to grunt each time you whine when you pump a finger in— and you can see it, how much in pain he was, keeping his teeth dug into his bottom lip to concentrate on making himself cum with his hand.
but it's fast, almost a little bold when he asks you, when both of you think about it;
"you wanna— sit on it, just a bit?" he gasps when you whine back to him, confused and lidded eyes, thrusting your finger in and out of your hole, "only a bit, okay?" you utter back nervously, "five s-seconds, five, not more," lips wet with saliva bestowing pure lust as aventurine was trying to hold it in, his climax and breath, caught in a big gulp.
you hop on top of him, your folds smacking against his shaft as he desperately lines himself up— drawing you still, uttering out another twine of five seconds, only five, fucking five seconds, it's gonna be worth it, you'll see.
"fuck—," he throws his head back, palms branding your ass, "i'm inside of you, fucking inside, oh fuck," as the new feeling of a cock, your best friends cock, sliding into your walls felt so fucking satisfying, so damn filthy and wrong, but good and well at the same time.
it's wrong, it's not, but it is. no it's not.
something so thick and pleasuring can never be wrong.
you're so tight, so fucking tight," he presses into you, your hole filled and thighs shaking, your hips still pushing down to keep more of him in before you let out a squeal at the burning split of his shaft gaping your cunt apart— the tight cunt aventurine always wanted to feel.
the gambler doesn't want mindless fucking, or mundane repetitive one night stands that are bringing him more eye roll than actual pleasure.
actual satisfaction? that's what he wants and he's feeling it right now while stuffing his best friend's sloppy cunt—he desires you strongly, he craved an almost damaging, unspeakable pleasure, his hips jerking reflexively as you're high off the sensation of him.
you choke out your moans, both humping each other filthily, his unforgiving pace bringing you to tears, sweat and saliva drenching you, marking you up, until you're falling apart on your best friends fucking cock.
©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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