I'm just a woman lover 👭🏽 and boy kisser👩🏿❤️💋👨🏾
Request are open 💌
Most of my work will be fem!black reader unless requested otherwise. (And yk what I mean try somein'and see.🙂)
I'm going to try keyword TRY and write fanfic and post it I'm a little nervous actually writing down my head cannons and story's and letting people see them so let's keep this a safe space ignorance, racism, and homophobic comments will NOT be tolerated I will block you with all due DISRESPECT
The characters I'll write for:
Marvel:
Shuri Udaku
Erik Killmonger
Riri Williams
She-Hulk
Celebrities:
Billie Eilish
Dominique Thorne
Letitia Wright
Dior Goodjohn
Michael B Jordan
Winston Duke
The Legend of Korra:
Korra
Asami
Lin
Bolin
MHA:
Mirko
Mina
Hawks
Bakugo
Kirishima
Aizawa
Dabi
Shigaraki
AOT:
Yalena
Hange
Nanaba
Peicka
Yamir
Onyankopon(🤤)
Connie
Raya and the last dragon:
Raya
Navaia
League of Legends/Arcane:
Vi
Sevika
Ambessa
Grayson
Akali
Ekko
WWE:
Rhea Ripley
Black lagoon:
Revy
Balalaika
JJK:
Maki
Mai
Nobara
Nanami
Suguru
Yuji
Toji (🤤)
Sukuna
Blue eye Samurai:
Mizu
Avatar/The way of water:
Neteyam
Neytiri
Lo'ak
Jake
Norm
Tsu'Tey
Ronal
Tonawari
The Woman King:
Izogie
Rebel Ridge:
Terry Richmond (Aaron Pierre)
Now I might add on more Fandoms but rn I have to let my hyper fixations die down, and then we'll see, but I highly doubt that.💀😭
In this fic: kinda from his POV; Katsuki’s stupid; no mention of y/n; reader is a girl; unconsciously yearning; a couple of swear words
(this is the first thing I ever wrote so please be kind when giving feedback and critique)
Katsuki was never the one for straightforward interactions, despite what is infamously thought of him. He had no filter and was not afraid to (aggressively) point out anything and everything that bothered him. However, he is really just a teenage guy who has no idea what to do with his vicious, explosive, and rather unstable emotions. With that gigantic ego of his, there was no way to healthily process those senses.
So, Bakugou did what he knows best — hid behind them, masked them with anger and scowls. Then again, how was he supposed to mask this stupidly stubborn annoyance towards his classmate, a girl who he’s not supposed to think about this often, to watch as she absentmindedly plays with her hair in a particularly boring class? Not supposed to feel strangely jealous as she cuddles up on the couch with one of her closest friends, Mina, during the dorm’s movie nights (which were, in his opinion, a waste of time and sleep, just like any other activity with those extras except for training).
No, he wasn’t supposed to experience that heavy and tingling sensation in his heart, the one that sinks down all the way to his stomach, making him feel sick. What even is that supposed to mean? That extra won’t even talk to him. She probably thinks he’s an asshole like all of them do. As if Katsuki could care less…right? I mean, he’s evidently not agreeing to cook up a chef-like dinner for the whole class, just so he could see her quiet satisfaction as she eats, so he knows she didn’t go to bed hungry.
It must be Kirishima rubbing off on him. Since when did the best of them all, Katsuki Bakugou, ever care about anyone other than himself and his dreams? He’s obviously not sweating, stiff as a board when she sits next to him at the table in UA’s cafeteria during lunch. It’s because she’s butting in on his friend group. She’s disrupting the chaotic vibe of the table that he’s used to. Yeah, that’s it. ‘Who even invited her?’ he thinks.She barely talks to anyone in class. Oh, yeah, except for Mina and Jirou. Not that he noticed or anything.
The explosive boy is most definitely just really not feeling well a couple weeks later. The blush on his cheek, his slightly stammering hands, the way that he can’t really seem to meet her eye as he tries (and fails) to casually invite her out for some ramen after school. It’s just a fever that’s making his feel that way, of course. His heart practically stops, his voice disappearing when she smiles and agrees with a voice that’s slightly louder than her usual, delicate one. It’s as if her whole demeanor changed. Maybe because of him.
Kacchan is pissed. Just so angry. Just his usual self. Wait, is his hair sticking out weird? Was his graphic tee not ironed out well, despite him explicitly making sure to press down on it strong enough, to the point where steam filled his vision? He’s not nervous at all. Since when did she smile so sweetly at him? Such an idiot, she even made him order for her. Something must be wrong with his watch, it’s showing an elevated heart rate. She’s so awkward, he had to pull words out of her. Maybe he had a good time. Maybe even went to bed at 11PM, staying past his usual bedtime since he couldn’t think of anything else.
What changed? A couple months later, they’re going out alone together every week. She’s still weird. Talkative as hell. Interesting. Or at least more than any other extra in his class. Those stupid classmates of his: Kirishima, Denki, and Sero are convinced he likes her. As if they know anything. They already bother him all the time, now on top of that they tease him. To hell with that. He’ll just shut them up. Yeah, that’s what he’ll do. He’ll wear a proud smirk once they find out that today he asked her to be his girlfriend, with a bouquet and everything.
cw: explicit smut, toji eats you out on the phone w/ shiu.
Toji’s got you spread out on the living room couch, one leg hooked over the backrest, the other pushed up and out by the iron grip of his forearm. Your shorts and panties are long gone—crumpled somewhere on the floor—and his broad shoulders keep you pinned open.
His phone buzzed on the coffee table. He didn’t even pause—just reached over with one lazy hand, thumbed it to speaker, and answered without lifting his head. “Yeah?” Voice rough, muffled against your pussy.
Shiu’s voice crackled through the speaker. “Yo, you busy? Got a job lead, need to talk details. You free to call?”
Toji dragged his tongue up slow circling your clit with the tip before sucking it into his mouth hard enough to make your back arch off the couch. You slapped a hand over your own mouth to muffle the whimper.
He pulled back just enough to speak, lips shiny with you, breath hot against your throbbing cunt. “Yeah,” he drawled casually, “I’m free. Just eatin’. What’s up?”
Shiu snorted on the other end. “Eatin’? This late? You order takeout or somethin’?” Toji’s tongue flicked out again lapping at your entrance before plunging inside, fucking you with slow, deep strokes. Your thighs trembled around his head, pussy soaking his face. “Somethin’ like that,” Toji muttered, voice thick, lips brushing your clit with every word. “Tastes perfect. Real fuckin’ good.”
You whined and despite your best efforts the sound carried. Shiu paused. “…You good, man? Sounds like you’re multitasking.”
Toji laughed as he sucked your clit again, hard, popping off with a wet sound that was obscene even over the phone. “Yeah,” he rasped, dragging his tongue flat up your slit one more time, slow enough to make your eyes roll back. “Just… enjoying my meal. Keep talkin’.”
Shiu sighed, clearly suspicious but too used to Toji’s bullshit to push. “Alright, whatever. So the job’s in Shibuya—client wants it quiet, double the pay if we wrap by Friday—”
Toji hummed like he was listening, but his mouth never stopped. One thick finger slid inside you—then two making your thighs squeeze around him harder. You were dripping down his chin, soaking the collar of his shirt. He didn’t care. Just kept eating like your pussy was the only thing on his mind while Shiu droned on about payout and timelines. “—you in or what?” Shiu finished.
Toji pulled back just long enough to answer, lips swollen, “Mhm,” he finally grunts into the phone, voice lazy. “Double’s good. Send me the location.”
He dives back in without missing a beat—tongue fucking into you deep while his thumb circles your clit in tight, relentless little strokes. Shiu keeps talking logistics—times, entry points, cleanup—none the wiser. Toji responds in short, gruff sentences, each one punctuated by another long lick or a slow suck that makes your hips buck against his face.
Then Shiu pauses. “Yo… what the hell are you eating over there? Sounds like it tastes fuckin’ good. You got some gourmet shit or what?”
Toji laughs against your pussy, “Yeah. Real fuckin’ good. Best meal I’ve had in a while.” You’re mortified and soaked and you feel like you about to fucking cum with Shiu on the phone. Shiu laughs. “Man, save some for me next time. Sounds like you’re enjoying the hell outta that.” He laughs slurping louder, “Nah, I ain’t sharing’.”
Toji’s thumb presses harder on your clit—once, twice—and you can’t hold it back anymore. A muffled moan slips past your fingers. Toji’s grip on your hip tightens in warning, but he doesn’t stop. If anything, he gets meaner—tongue plunging deeper, lips sealing around your clit and sucking hard. “Gotta go,” he mutters into the phone, voice rough. “Food’s gettin’ cold.”
He hangs up before Shiu can say another word, tossing the phone onto the couch like it’s nothing. Then both hands are on you—gripping your ass, spreading you wider, burying his face so deep you feel his nose pressed against you.
Tongue and fingers work in tandem—curling inside you while his mouth devours your clit. You come hard, screaming his name, thighs clamping around his head as you shake and gush against his tongue.
Toji doesn’t let up even after you come, thighs clamped around his ears and your whole body twitching. He cleans up every drop, long, dragging licks from your oversensitive entrance back up to your swollen bud. You can barely form words. Your hand’s still clamped over your mouth even though the call’s long dead, chest heaving, skin slick with sweat.
He crawls up your body, caging you in, lips brushing yours so you could taste yourself on him. “Shiu’s right,” he murmurs, “You do taste fuckin’ good.”
a/n: bro I’m actually becoming too obsessed w toji
You couldn’t sleep, that restless heat before your period keeping you awake, so you woke him up in the middle of the night. Though your husband's tired, he gives in and lets you take control by riding him. What started soft and needy quickly turned rougher—you riding him hard, him gripping you and taking control when you faltered. He teased, scolded, and pushed you until you broke apart, messy and crying in his arms. In the end, you were both spent, sweaty, and tangled together, ruined but held close.
˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖2,232 words, smut/explicit sexual content(18+), you're a little bratty, riding-> then he holds you to his chest and fucks you before making you ride... again, degradation & praise, dirty talk, name calling (e.g., ma/mama, slut, pretty girl, sweetheart, whore, etc), spanking, no condom(wrap the willy), he pulls out, etc˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖
❤︎ 18+ 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻𝓼 𝓓𝓸 𝓝𝓸𝓽 𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽 ❤︎
The room was dark and quiet, the only sound the steady rhythm of his breathing. You shifted beside him, restless, heat pooling low in your stomach like it always did before your cycle. It was unbearable—the ache, the need—and you couldn’t help yourself.
You pressed your face against his shoulder, voice low and needy. “Baby…”
He stirred with a sigh, not even opening his eyes at first. “Sweetheart,” his voice was rough with sleep, “what time is it?”
“Three” you whispered, almost guilty but too desperate to stop. Your thighs were already squeezing together, your pulse thrumming. “I can’t help it. I’m horny.”
Another sigh, this one heavier. He rolled onto his back, rubbing at his face. “Christ, honey… that’s two nights in a row. You’re gonna wear me out.”
You pouted, smacking your palm lightly against his chest, nightgown bunching a little as you moved. “Don’t be mean.”
His hand slid over his face again, then dropped to rest heavy on your thigh. “I’m tired,” he muttered.
You hit him again, softer, half-whining.
Finally, he cracked one eye open, looking at you with that mix of annoyance and affection only he could manage. “Fine. Get on top then.”
Your heart jumped, lips tugging into a smile as you swung a leg over his waist. You straddled him, lifting your nightgown up over your thighs. Before you reached for him, you tugged your bonnet back into place, adjusting it carefully, ignoring the way he huffed a laugh at the sight.
“Gotta look right,” you mumbled, more to yourself, before pulling his dick free of his briefs. He was heavy and warm in your hand, already thickening just from your touch.
Settling over him, you guided the head against your slick folds, gasping when it nudged against your entrance. He gripped your hips, eyes barely parted, watching the way you teased yourself on him.
“Go on then,” he rasped, voice low and edged with sleep. “Take what you wanted so bad you had to wake me up for it.”
You sank down slow, the stretch making your eyes flutter. His dick filled you inch by inch, and your lips parted, breath shaky.
“Mmm…” you moaned, hands braced against his chest as you bottomed out, the weight of him deep inside.
Your thighs trembled as you eased yourself into a steady rhythm, rocking against him, savoring the deep stretch of his dick filling you to the hilt. Each slow roll of your hips made you moan softly, little broken sounds that slipped into the quiet of the room. You were wet enough that every motion drew out a slick, lewd sound, your arousal dripping down to dampen his briefs bunched low around his hips.
He kept his eyes closed at first, head sunk into the pillow, his hand still heavy on your hip. Every so often, he let out a low grunt or a quiet moan, the kind of sound that rumbled from his chest and made you clench tighter around him.
You rode him like that for a while—slow, sensual, almost lazy. But the ache in your belly only grew sharper, needier. You leaned forward and pressed one palm to his stomach, sliding it under his t-shirt. Your nails scraped over his skin, dragging lines across his abs as you bounced harder, faster.
His breath caught, and his eyes cracked open. Hooded, half-dreaming, but watching you now—your nightgown bunched high, bonnet crooked, your lips parted around breathy moans, the slick sound of your cunt taking him raw filling the room. His lips parted too, a faint grunt pushing past them as he shifted his grip, squeezing your hip tighter.
“Fuck…” he muttered, voice rough, gravelly with sleep. “You’re lucky I love the way you feel.”
That only spurred you on—you fucked yourself down on him harder, wetter now, your moans rising into whines. The drag of him inside was unbearable, thick and perfect, hitting so deep your stomach clenched.
“Mghn—ahh” you gasped, nails digging into him as your hips snapped down, creamy arousal coating his dick with every grind. “You feel so fucking good—”
His gaze dragged over you slowly, hungry even through the haze of sleep. He groaned again, hips lifting just enough to meet your movements, driving deeper, making your breath hitch.
You rode him faster, tits bouncing with each movement, sweat pearling on your skin, voice catching as you gave him everything—your whimpers, your nails, the sight of your body working his cock like you were made for it.
His eyes stayed on you, hooded and dark, lips parted around another low moan.
“Messy little thing,” he rasped, voice thick with sleep but edged. “Getting wetter the longer you use me. Gonna make yourself cum on this dick, ma?”
Your hips faltered for a moment, thighs burning from the effort, and you let out a shaky little moan. He felt it immediately—the drag of your rhythm slowing, your body trying to take mercy on itself.
“Uh-uhn,” he murmurs, eyes still half-lidded but sharp enough. “Keep going.”
“Mhm,” you whimpered, nodding fast, biting down on your lip as you tried to grind faster, harder, the stretch almost too much but addictive all the same.
He watched the struggle, the way your mouth parted, the way your brows furrowed and eyes watered just a little as your body worked him. A dark smirk curled at his mouth.
“Shameless.” he muttered, voice edged with heat. “Waking me up at three in the damn morning just to sit on this dick. You’re so fucking nasty, you know that?”
A flush burned through your chest at his words, your thighs quivering. His hand released your waist and he slapped your ass, his filthy way of trying to spur you on. You wined at the sharp stinging sensation.
He groaned low, thrusting his hips up into you once, hard enough to make you yelp. “Faster. I didn’t tell you to slow down.”
You rocked slow, already sensitive. “I—fuck—you shouldn't talk—ah—you’re making me do all the work,” you gasped, nails clawing at his chest.
That got him. He sighed like you’d tried his patience, then suddenly his big arm was wrapping tight around your waist, hauling you down flush to him. His other hand came up, rough and certain, wrapping around your jaw and squeezing until your lips jutted in a pout.
Your eyes went wide, lips parted around a soft, broken sound.
“Watch your mouth,” he scolded, his hips snapping up into you, hard and fast, making your whole body jolt with each deep thrust. “You’re the one who woke me up begging for dick. You should be grateful I even let you ride me, slut.”
Fresh tears pricked at your lashes, your breath coming in high-pitched moans as his dick slammed into you, raw and deep, stretching you in a way that bordered on too much.
“Mmghn—oh god—” you gasped, voice breaking as your nails dug harder into his chest, leaving deep cresent marks as your mind slipped sideways with the force of his thrusts.
“Yeah, that’s it,” he grunts against your mouth, eyes locked, lips curled. “Cry for it. Take what you asked for.”
You keen, wet and whimpering, eyes glassy as you felt him battering deep inside, his grip on your jaw forcing your gaze to stay locked with his. Your thighs shook, your walls fluttering around him, every stroke drawing you closer even as his voice scolded, edged with possession.
“Ungrateful little brat,” he gritted, jaw tight as he kept fucking into you. “So mouthy, but you always listen when it counts, don’t you? You love me putting you in your place.”
You nodded frantically, lips trembling under the pressure of his hand, every thrust pulling a needy moan from your throat, your whole body screaming yes even as tears spilled from the corners of your eyes.
His thrusts never lost rhythm—deep, rough, unforgiving—forcing your body to take him over and over.
“Don’t pout at me,” he teases, voice low and edged, his breath hot against your face. “You wanted this. You woke me up begging, and now you’re gonna take it the way I give it.”
His hips snapped harder, making you yelp. He swallowed the sound with a deep groan, lips parted, eyes blown. Your walls clutching him with desperate pulses.
You pant, clinging to him, your body burning, splitting, drowning in him.
“Please—ah—!” your voice cracked, high and broken, “please—”
“Mm, I love hearing that,” he rasped, pushing deeper until your walls spasmed around him, soaked and messy. “My sweet girl, dripping all over me, crying for it. Look at you. So fucking needy.”
Your eyes rolled back when he hit that spot again and again, and you could feel your body trembling on the edge, teetering. But just when you thought he’d let you break, he released his grip on your jaw and waist, leaving you suddenly free, trembling and desperate.
“Go on,” he said, leaning back into the pillows, sweat glistening at his temple, lips curling as he watched you. “Ride it. Show me how bad you need it.”
Your thighs burned as you shifted, lifting yourself just enough to start bouncing again, his cock dragging deliciously through your slick walls. Your head tipped back, moans spilling out, wetter and louder than before.
He groaned low in his chest, one big hand sliding down between your thighs, thumb circling your clit. You gasped, body jolting, hips stuttering as the pleasure doubled.
“Ohhh—fuck, I—” you whimper, bouncing faster now, the mix of his dick stirring your insides and his thumb working your swollen clit making you gush wetter, dripping down his shaft.
“Messy little problem,” he grunted, watching his dick disappear into you, creamy and soaked. “So nasty and perfect. Can’t even wait ‘til morning—had to wake me up dripping for it.”
Your moans broke higher, tears streaking your cheeks as you rode him harder, his thumb rubbing fast and dirty over your clit. He groaned with every bounce, his eyes fixed on you, dark, lips parted, savoring the sight of you falling apart but not giving you permission yet.
“Keep going, ma,” he ordered, voice a low drawl. “Show me you’re grateful. Show me how much you need this dick.”
Your thighs shook, your body begging to give in, but he only pressed harder at your clit, drawing it out, dragging your need to the very edge without letting you tumble over.
Your thighs were trembling, muscles screaming, but you didn’t dare stop. His dick kept splitting you open, sliding in deep and raw.
“God—oh, baby—” your voice pitched, cracked and broken, breathless from the pace. Your lashes fluttered, lips parted and glistening with spit as your head tipped back.
“That’s it,” he rasped, voice low and rough, every word vibrating against your chest where you leaned into him. His hand at your waist held you steady while his other worked between your thighs. “Look at you. Falling apart on my dick. So fucking wet for me.”
More tears streaked hot down your cheeks as the pressure built unbearable. “F–fuck, I can’t—” you sobbed, bouncing harder, messy and uncoordinated now, your wetness gushing down his shaft.
“Yes you can,” he snapped, eyes locked on you, sweat beading at his brow. Breath ragged, but his stare never wavered. “You’re gonna cum for me, sweetheart. Right here, right now. Cream all over this dick—come on. Be good for me.”
His thumb pressed harder, circling tight, and that was it. Your whole body seized as your orgasm tore through you, violent and raw. You screamed his name, thighs shaking uncontrollably, your pussy squeezing around him in desperate pulses, soaking him as you collapsed forward.
“That’s it,” he groaned, gritting his teeth as he fucked you through it, keeping you bouncing, milking him while you shattered. His eyes burned into yours when you lifted your head, dazed and wet-faced, your lips trembling. “Mghn—so pretty. Look at you.”
Your body shook, tears blurring your vision, but you held his gaze. Even while your orgasm ripped through you, you saw him watching—hungry, proud, undone by how desperate you were for him.
He hissed, groaned deep, He pulled out fast, stroking himself rough until he spilled hot and messy over your stomach, streaking your skin, painting across the underside of your tits.
“Goddamn, baby” he panted, voice frayed, chest heaving as his release dripped down your belly.
You were still shaking, your thighs weak, lips glossy and parted, chest heaving. You smeared some of his mess across your belly with shaky fingers, half-worn, half-proud, and he only smirked, pulling you down into his arms, sweat-slick and sticky between you both.
His mouth pressed to your temple, giving a sweet peck before he whispered into your hair, "Got it out your system?"
You just pissed off Older!Price one too many times than you should have.
cw: 18+ mdni, dark content/dead dove, smut with plot, forced faúxcèst, Dad(dy) kínk (Use of Pa & Dad), water works😱, puníshment, age gap (reader mid 20s, Price 45+) bòndage, fórced órgasm, overstím, dumbífication, use of víbrator, buttercup!reader, established relationship.
Your old man really did try to be as kind as he can to you.
You just had the baby, your both first time parents, your getting used to your new body without the baby, and just overall postpartum symptoms— part of you biologically can’t help it. 
That doesn’t mean you get to snap at him over little mistakes. Don’t get to curse up the fucking wall and stomp your foot when shit doesn’t go your way. Life is fucking hard, this is the easy fucking part— a punishment from this old military captain was harder.
He raised you better than that.
Taught you respect, manners, how to be a good kid— his good kid— not rolling your eyes and storming off like you are now.
Your little tantrums didn’t move him, not at all, he’s dealt with worse— been through worse. Your outbursts were minuscule compared to the things he’s seen on the feign. But the patience was wearing thin, for you because you knew better, his baby girl, his buttercup.
The old man is right on your heels, chunky big brown eyed baby in his arms. Cooing and drooling. Little thing didn’t have a clue is mama was throwing a fit right now. He doesn’t even remember what you were so angry about— but John remembers the nail in the coffin.
You turned on your heels, eyebrows knit together, curls fl thing every which way— “I don’t wanna deal this shit anymore Price! You’re suffocating me! I’m going back home with my fuckin baby, fuck, maybe stay at my aunts— just away from you!”
John’s sweet girl, away? from him? That didn’t even sound right. Not in this life, not in the next. There would never be a day you’d be apart from that old man. Price loves you, really he loves you. But you’re not leaving him. He’d drag you back with blood trailing in the snow, like a deer after a hunt. You almost see the flip switch in the older man, eyes darkening, adjusting the baby in his arms, he reaches out to you. Cupping your pretty face.
“You’re thinkin too much.” He simply states. Voice deep, dark. Eyes hooded over. Your eyebrows furrow.
“I am not—“ his hand goes to your hair, slightly entangled in your curls, pulling just enough for you to really look up at him, notice the difference in size between him and you. His brooding figure taking up your space, he takes a step closer, voice tight, “You’re gonna take a nap for an hour or two, think about your fuckin actions. Clear?”
You slowly nod, a whimper of ‘yes sir’ out of your lips before he nods. Thumbing your cheek with his thumb before letting you go without a word. Every step on the hardwood with his boots loud and distinct with purpose. The door shutting behind him so gentle you could hear yourself fill your lungs with air again.
You do as told, and the nap does make you feel better. Give you a bit of clarity, how rude you’ve been. But you were tired, with the baby, trying to adjust and didn’t want to put so much pressure on Price. You swallowed your pride, tip toeing down the creaky old steps, and Price is right on the coach in the living room. Puffs of smoke filling the air, turn table on some country radio station, the older man is polishing his shot gun, just as he usually does after a hunt, making sure the chamber is empty, bullets intricately placed in the ammunition box soon to be locked up.
“Pa…” you meekly call out, practically hiding behind the banister.
He doesn’t stop his actions, he barks, “Come ‘ere.”
You’re quick, fucking floating over to the man, he sets the rifle to the side, patting his thigh. You can already feel the tears pricking the corner of your eyes, kneeling down between his legs and laying your head in his lap.
You hiccup, “I’m sorry Pa, I’m really sorry. I should’ve- I wasn’t bein respectful a-and I just wanna be good for you and the baby— agh- I didn’t mean what I said! I don’t wanna be apart—“
“I know.” he cuts you off, blue eyes finally petting yours, wiping the tears that fell from your face. “You’re my kid I know you better than anyone, isn’t that right?”
You nod, face falling deeper into his thigh. You sniffle, “I wont do it again Dad, promise. I’ll be good.”
Of course you will, your Prices sweet buttercup after all!
The blows out the smoke in his mouth, fingers caressing your face, the burning lit bud of the cigarette so close to your face you can feel just how warm it is, see every little ember glow and burn—
“Yeah, Dads sorry too honey. Real sorry.”
And there’s an exact reason why John made your child’s bedroom soundproof, had your baby on a strict schedule the second they could start sleep training.
Your old man can count on his hand how many punishments he’s given you. Punishments aren’t always bad like this, it’s about reminding you who’s in charge, following instruction, keeping order. The first one wasn’t so bad, just a spanking, keeping his cock warm for an hour. Nothing serious. All for going in the basement without permission. Let’s just say— there are things that absolutely shouldn’t be even glancing at that are in boxes down there, especially the door that has that double bolt lock with the pad lock. Thats opposite of the assortment of guns on the wall you knew weren’t just for hunting animals.
It’s not your fault, you didn’t know, but it’s a learning experience for you. What can and can’t be done, and when you do as Price says, can make it through a punishment theres a reward- no— salvation.
But you can’t get there without hard work, your legs now bound apart and open with rope, hands in cuffs, the 5th? Or 7th? Orgasm rolling over you, legs trembling, tears streaming down your face, slick running down to your little asshole, and John isn’t amused, he’s lips in a thin line, pressing that vibrating wand against your abused clit.
You’re clawing at his hairy hands, head thrown back on his shoulder as you moan, walls tightly clenching as you cum, “Pa- mmmggh- so much!”
He spreads your folds out further, rolling the vibrator against your pulsing pearl causing you to sob out, he grunts when you wiggle in his lap. “Stay still.”
You groan, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he vibrator moves through your tender nerves, “I can’t! Fuck, it’s too much!”
He scowls, “So your talking back now-“
“No Pa!” Your breath hitches, only making him press the vibrator harsher onto your cunt. It’s sloppy, the squelching of your slick drenching the machine. “Just- aangh- juuust-“ you choke up, unable to stop the moans coming out of you.
“You’ve done all this back talk lately, think you run shit around here. Then I’ll give you everything, right? ‘S a big girls responsibility t’ cum so much. Take it.”
You close you mouth, a whining while he rubs the vibrating wand against your entrance. “Bloody dirty girl baby, probably dying to have somethin in that hole of you’re huh?” He nibbles at yoru chin, you his lips curving upward against your skin, he clicks his tongue, “Don’t worry, Dads always been nice to you sweetheart, even when you’re a brat.”
You can’t even get a word out when he slips the vibrator inside, turning it up higher than before. He works it inside you, slow but deliberate, in and out, in, around and out, enough for you to feel every vibration of the round object stretching out you out, the buuuzz on every single ridge inside you. “Fu- I’m sorry, Pa- mmmmhhmm sho-“ you’re a babbling mess, creaming around hard, eyes squeezing shut as another harsh orgasm hits you again.
John’s eyes are stuck on you, watching your body melt into his hold, “Be the boss kiddo, fuck yourself with it.”
You’re body is uncontrollably twitching and shaking, you lashes flutter open as you pant, quickly shaking your head, “Too- hck- can’t, I- Pa, can’t-“
“But You’re big shit buttercup,” he mocks, yanking the cuffs hard enough they sting and down to the vibrator still on and inside you. The ex military captain wraps your hands around it with his rough ones, thrusting it even deeper inside your awaiting pussy without warning. “Show me how you handle it.”
You’re bawling now, snot and tears down your nose, and overstimulated. Legs quivering as Price guides the wand in and out of your slicked up core. You’re desperate for avail, trying to wiggle your way away from the object but it only makes Price pound it into you faster. He lets go of one hand, still moving it in and out of you, hand gripping and groping your tit in his hand. Your areola getting harder as he squeezing and pulling, you can’t help you own hips from rocking into him.
“Is that right?” He hikes it up into you right in that sweet spot. “Show me.”
You don’t know what came over you, back arching and toes curling, almost like the band within your stomach popped. with a croak, you’re gushing out. Water spraying and wetting John’s hands and the carpet as your walls flutter over and over.
“Wetting my pants like a fuckin dog, guess I should treat you like one from now on, right? A good pup wouldn’t think to run off like you.”
You hiccup, shaking your head, taking a hoarse breath, not even fully comprehending the words he’s just said, the only words your able to form is ‘Pa’ choking on hiccups and mumbling a ‘Dad, sorry.’ Body falling limp in his arms.
So adorable.
Waiting for instruction.
Pliable.
The way you’re always meant to be for him.
He turns off the sèx toy, tossing it to the side before tenderly kissing your cheek. Price rests his chin on your shoulder. “Cum once more for me.”
His fingers find your tender bundle of nerves, slowly rubbing fast, large circles with the pads of his fingers. Your hips buck, drool leaving the the side of your mouth as you try to escape his hold once more. But his hold on you in his muscular arms is tight, letting you fall forward to the coffee table but falling right against you. Prices belly pressed into your back till your curled in fetal position, fingers pruning from how wet you are. the older mans stiff cock stuck in his jeans pressed into your ass cheeks. He groans as he grinds into you, pressing his fingers down harder, faster onto your pearl while he humps you.
And fuck does fell so good, almost feel likes hes finally fucking you, the feeling in your stomach builds again, you keen, letting out a gasp, “Dad!”
“Yeah, honey I know. Shit baby, I know.” He coos so sweetly, picking up his own pace to cum, hips rolling into you, fiction of your plump globes perfect against his aching cock. “Did so good for me, yeah? Can take it once more kid. My good girl, cum for me.”
Your hips buck, leg kicking out as you squirt once more, screaming as you fall apart. And it knocks you out completely, feeling as John shivers roll over him, pressing you against his dick just as you pass out.
And Price licks the stripe of tears on your face, kissing your lips, “Fuck, love you so much buttercup.”
contents: !big dick smoke, doggy style, smoke “fixing your attitude” , stern smoke, light choking (not really just hand around the throat), ofc some aftercare at the end lolz, pure smut !
summary : you had an attitude all day with your man smoke, and he made sure to give you that act right !
duration: 719
“Uh-huh.” His voice was gruff, edged with knowing, his pelvis pressing deep into mine. “I bet you cut that fucking attitude out now.” His hands gripped my hips tight, one palm smacking the soft flesh of my ass.
My face pressed into the mattress below, loud moans spilling from my lips. “I’m so—sorry.” The words broke under pleasure, my mind foggy. Smoke’s hand came down again, a sharp slap to my ass before he drove into me relentlessly. My legs quivered, body overtaken with need.
“Please, Elijah… let me cum.” My words fell out in a whine, pleasure bubbling hot in my lower belly. My thighs trembled as I tried—weakly—to hold back my orgasm.
“Now you wanna ask, baby?” His thrusts grew rougher, each one deliciously stretching me. “Earlier, you ain’t give a fuck about nothin’.” His voice was hoarse, low and stern, fingers digging into my sides.
His chest pressed against my back, one hand sliding around my throat while the other wrapped tight around my stomach. “Now why the fuck should I let you cum, huh?” With a swift tug he pulled me upright, my back flush against his chest, his strength caging me in.
The slight pressure at my throat made my knees buckle. “I’m sorry, baby—please.” My voice broke into a breathless moan, my hands clutching his.
“Sorry don’t change shit, baby.” His tone was painfully stern, like he’d fuck me until I forgot my own name.
His hand slid down, fingers finding my clit. He rubbed quick, merciless circles, and I clenched tight around him. My head fell back against his shoulder, loud moans spilling free.
“You like that shit, huh, baby?” he growled.
“Yes—yes—” I gasped, mind gone, words falling apart.
“You like me fucking you like this?” His lips brushed my ear. “All rough, like you deserve… right, mama?”
My hips twitched, body unraveling at his words.
“Cum on this dick, baby. Now.”
Those words shattered me. My orgasm crashed over me, my eyes rolling back, wetness dripping down his thighs. He cursed as he chased his own release, his body jerking against mine before spilling into me.
His thrusts slowed, sloppy, both of us trembling in the aftermath. His mouth pressed near my ear again, voice a dark promise.
“Next time… watch your fucking mouth. You hear me?”
He eased out of me slowly, lowering me gently onto the bed. My thighs still trembled as he brushed his palms over them, grounding me with slow strokes. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to my shoulder, then another at the curve of my neck.
I hummed softly, eyes heavy, chest rising and falling against the sheets. Smoke pulled the blanket over me, sliding in behind me to gather me close against his chest.
His arm draped protectively over my stomach, his breath warm against my ear.
“like I said,” he whispered, lips brushing my skin, “just use that pretty mouth for moanin’… not mouthing off.”
—
a/n : wrote this up real quick for my baby smoke had to get him on the blog IMMEDIATELY! thank you everyone for being so kind, i started this page a few days ago and it grew sm faster than expected! i appreciate you for being here 🥰 remember requests are open !
Cw: dirty talk. Condescending Simon. Soft dom Simon. Reader's a little subby in this. Bit of foreplay and fingering. P in V. Bit of breeding. No protection cus they're married in this.
Consensual because consent is hot.
The fight still clings to the air like smoke. The words you’d thrown at him echo back in your skull.
"Then leave."
"Let's just stop."
"Im tired of having this conversation."
Things you didn’t mean but couldn’t swallow at the time. And Simon, who usually swallows everything, who keeps his temper buried deep under layers of silence and patience, had gone quiet in a way that cut deeper than shouting ever could.
Hours later, that quiet still stretches between you. You’re curled on the bed, facing away, but you can feel him moving behind you, the weight of his stare on your back. Then the mattress dips, the heat of his body at your spine, and before you can think of pushing him off, his arms are around you, iron and tender all at once.
“You don’t get to do that to me,” he rasps into your hair, his breath warm, his chest heavy against your back. “You don’t get to shut me out, lovie. Not you.”
Your pulse stutters. You want to turn, to say you didn’t mean it, but his hands are already on your thighs, dragging them apart with deliberate patience. His knee slides between yours, his chest locking you against him. You end up sitting in his lap, back pressed to his solid chest, legs spread open and helpless.
“I'm not leaving,” he whispers, and the ache beneath his words slices through you. “We're not stopping. Ever.”
His hand skims down your stomach, and then his palm is cupping your cunt, hot and heavy. You shiver. He doesn’t stroke, not yet. Just holds you there, making you squirm in the circle of his arms.
“I'm yours,” he says softly, almost to himself. His fingers lift and land with a gentle slap against your pussy. You gasp, the sting biting into you before the warmth spreads. “..this is how I remind you.”
The sound is filthy, obscene in the quiet of the bedroom. You can already feel how wet you are against his fingers, slick smearing across your skin with every tap. Your breath hitches when he does it again, a little harder, his mouth brushing your ear.
“Count ‘em for me.”
Your voice is thin, trembling. “One.”
His lips press against your neck in reward. Another slap follows, the sting sharper this time.
“Two.”
“That’s it,” he murmurs, one big hand slipping under your shirt to cup your breast, thumb circling your nipple until it hardens. The sweet touch clashes with the rough one, dizzying you.
He keeps going, slow and steady, his cock stiffening against your ass with every whimper he pulls from you. Each slap makes you jolt, thighs twitching, but his legs keep you spread wide. His hand on your breast alternates between kneading and pinching, his mouth trailing kisses and bites down the side of your throat.
By the time you reach seven, your voice breaks on the count. You’re dripping down his hand, the wet sound of his fingers smacking your pussy growing louder.
“Can’t even keep track now, can you?” he hums, amused and cruel and tender all at once. “Then we’ll start over.”
“No...please,” you beg, squirming.
“Shhh,” he croons, kissing your cheek as his palm smacks down again. “You’ll take it. You’ll learn. You’ll be good for me.”
You’re shaking by the time he finally relents, fingers sliding through the mess he’s made of you. His touch turns softer, circling your clit, dipping into your folds, then pulling back to slap again just to make you gasp. He toys with you until you’re writhing in his lap, breasts swollen from his rough hands, neck covered in his marks.
“Look at you,” he growls, grinding his cock against you from behind. “Told me to get out, and now you’re dripping all over my fingers. Must not have meant it, hm?”
“Yes,” you whisper, shame and need tangling.
“Yes what?” His voice sharpens, his fingers pausing just shy of your clit.
“Didn't mean it,” you gasp.
His groan rumbles against your back. “That’s my good girl.”
Two fingers press inside you suddenly, filling you deep. Your cry breaks the air, your walls clenching hard around him. He curls them, finding that spot that makes your thighs twitch helplessly, his thumb rolling over your clit in ruthless circles.
“You’ll come like this first,” he mutters against your ear, his voice low and rough. “Stuffed full of my fingers, sittin’ on my lap, cryin’ for me. Then I’ll fuck you.”
Your hips buck, but he holds you down with one massive hand across your chest, pinning you to him. His other hand works mercilessly between your thighs until the coil snaps. You shatter, clamping around him, soaking his fingers, sobbing his name as he coaxes every drop out of you.
“Good girl,” he soothes, slowing his hand, kissing your temple as you tremble. “But we're not done.”
You barely catch your breath before he shifts you forward, tugging his sweats down. His cock presses hot and heavy against your ass, smearing precum along your skin as he drags it up and down your slit.
“Feel that?” he growls, catching your jaw and turning your face to his. His mouth brushes yours, rough and tender. “That's all fuckin' yours. Gonna stretch you open and remind you who you belong with.”
The blunt head nudges at your entrance, and then he’s easing you down onto him, inch by inch. The stretch burns, makes your eyes flutter shut, but he kisses your cheek, your jaw, your temple, murmuring soft nothings even as he fills you to the hilt.
When he bottoms out, you’re shaking. He keeps you there, cock buried deep, hands on your breasts, squeezing, tugging at your nipples until you whimper.
“Fuck,” he groans, grinding once, making you cry out. “So tight, sweetheart. Gripping me like you’ll never let go.”
Then he moves. Slow thrusts at first, dragging out, pushing back in, every stroke deliberate. His cock splits you wide, the fullness overwhelming, his pace unhurried and merciless. You moan with every roll of his hips, your head falling back against his shoulder.
“That’s it,” he whispers, kissing your throat between words. “Take me deep. Take all of me.”
The sound of wet flesh fills the room, your pussy squelching around him, slick dripping onto his thighs. He presses a hand low on your belly, making you feel how deep he is, his cock hitting places that make your vision blur.
“You love this, don’t you?” His voice cracks as he thrusts harder, deeper. “Love when I ruin you slow.”
“Yes,” you choke out, hips trembling with the force of his thrusts.
“Yes what?” His teeth scrape your neck.
“Yes, I love when you ruin me.”
He groans raggedly, his pace quickening just enough to push you closer to the edge. His fingers circle your clit again, the pressure brutal in its precision. You’re a mess in his lap, moaning, begging, unable to do anything but take it.
“Come on then,” he pants against your ear. “Come on my cock, lovie. Show me you remember.”
The orgasm hits hard and fast, ripping through you like fire. You convulse, clamping down around him, soaking him, screaming his name. He fucks you through it, relentless, his groans breaking against your skin as your walls squeeze him tight.
“Fuck..” he growls, his rhythm faltering. “Gonna fill you up. Take it, sweetheart. Take every drop.”
With a final thrust, he buries himself deep, spilling inside you with a guttural moan. His arms crush you to his chest as he comes, his cock twitching in your still-spasming cunt, heat flooding you.
For a long moment, the room is nothing but ragged breaths and pounding hearts. Then his voice softens, raw and tender, his lips brushing your hairline.
“There’s my girl,” he murmurs.
He doesn’t let go, not right away. He keeps you in his lap, cock still buried inside, rocking you gently as if to soothe you from the storm he’s just dragged you through. His fingers stroke your hair, his mouth presses small, reverent kisses to your temple.
“You’re all I’ve got,” he admits quietly, vulnerable in a way that makes your chest ache. “Don’t ever shut me out again. Can’t take it. Not from you.”
Your throat tightens. You twist just enough to kiss him, slow and deep, the kind that says more than any apology could. He kisses you back with everything he has, his hand cradling your face like you might vanish.
When he finally eases you down onto the sheets, covering your body with his, you know the punishment was never about cruelty. It was love, fierce and desperate. A reminder, carved into your body and soul, that you belong to him, and he to you.
you’d been pushing yourself too much lately—classes, exams, and squeezing in time to braid hair for extra money. everybody on campus seemed to be letting loose early for spring break, but you were still up at night, hands cramping from parting and braiding hair until your eyes blurred.
when the last girl left your dorm room with fresh knotless braids and cash in hand, you just sat on the bed for a minute, staring at your phone. spring break. freedom. everybody else had their fun lined up and had upcoming beach trips, parties, smoke sessions planned.
you’d never touched anything. never smoked, never drank. your mom’s voice always in the back of your head telling you to keep your head straight. but now? the thought of just letting go for once? it didn’t sound so bad.
your thumb hovered over your messages for a while. you thought about who you could even ask. who did you know that’d actually respond without making it weird?
and then you thought of him.
connie springer. everybody knew him. not just because he was always posted outside the student center in some jordan fit with his chains glinting every time it hit the sun, but because if anybody wanted to smoke, connie was the one they hit.
you clicked over to his instagram. you followed him, but never actually talked. he posted pics like he lived in his own music video—car shots, money fans, flicks with his boys.
your fingers trembled a little before you typed.
hey do you sell?
you hesitated for about three seconds before pressing send.
the reply came fast.
damn ma, you finally textin me? 👀
what u need?
you bit your lip, typing slow.
um just weed. i’ve never tried it before tho.
a bubble popped up right away.
oh so u hittin me up for your first time?
i feel special.
you rolled your eyes even though your cheeks felt hot.
ur literally the only person i know who sells.
nah don’t play me like that
you lowkey been tryna text me, huh
connie. please. 🧍🏽♀️
relax, i’m just messin wit you
how much you want?
you hesitated again.
i don’t know… like, enough for just me?
another quick reply.
cute.
i’ll put you together somethin light.
but if it’s your first time, u gotta let me pull up n show you how. can’t have you tweakin by yourself.
you stared at the screen.
you don’t have to.
nah what kinda plug would i be if i left you hangin?
plus, i been waitin on u to hit me up.
your chest felt tight, like he could see straight through your nerves.
i guess that’s fine.
bet. send the addy.
you cleaned your room without even meaning to, folding the throw blanket on your bed twice over and spraying your perfume around like it’d cover the nerves sitting in your chest.
when the knock finally came, your stomach dropped.
you opened the door and there he was—hoodie half zipped over a white tee, sweatpants, and his signature jordans like he didn’t even try but somehow still looked put together. his chain caught the hallway light when he grinned.
“damn,” he leaned on the doorframe, eyes dragging over you, “you lookin like i just interrupted somethin important.”
“just… cleaning,” you muttered, stepping aside.
he walked in easy, daps you up like you been friends. he smelled good like something clean, faint cologne under the sharp scent of what he carried in the bag.
“so this your lil spot?” he asked, looking around while heading to your room and dropping his bag on your desk. “cozy.”
you followed and sat on the bed, tucking your legs under you. “yeah. nothing special.”
he pulled out a small jar, the green inside glinting under the light. he set it down, then looked at you with that same smirk.
“you nervous?”
you swallowed. “a little. i don’t know what to expect.”
he chuckled low. “nah, don’t trip. i got you. first time, you gon be chillin. just listen to me, aight?”
you nodded.
he pulled out papers, started breaking it down with quick fingers like he’d done this a million times. you watched, fascinated by the way he moved so precise but casual.
“so what made you finally hit me up?” he asked without looking up, voice smooth.
you hesitated. “just wanted to try something new, i guess. everyone else is doing stuff for spring break, and i feel like i never do anything.”
he looked up then, raising a brow. “you? nah, you don’t strike me like everybody else. you different. i can tell.”
heat rose in your cheeks. “different how?”
“innocent,” he said simply, licking the edge of the paper before sealing it. “but in a good way. makes me wonder what else you never tried.”
you tried to laugh it off, heart skipping. “probably a lot.”
he leaned back, holding up the joint. “well, lucky for you, i’m a good teacher.”
he lit it, took the first pull, then handed it over. “alright, baby steps. hold it like this ma… yeah. now just pull in slow. don’t force it.”
your lips touched the end and you inhaled. it burned, sharp in your chest, and you coughed right after.
he laughed softly, rubbing your back. “it’s cool, it’s cool. everybody coughs the first time. means it’s hittin.”
you looked at him, watery-eyed but trying to smile. “that was awful.”
“nah,” he shook his head, grin tugging at his mouth, “you look cute tryna thug it out. go ‘head, try again.”
you did, slower this time, letting the smoke roll out your mouth.
“there you go,” he said low, watching you. “you a natural.”
a warmth started creeping into your body, not just from the smoke but from the way he kept looking at you like you were letting him in on a secret.
it didn’t take long before you felt it like a slow warmth stretching across your body, the edges of the room softening, your shoulders dropping loose for the first time in weeks. you leaned back against your headboard, blinking at connie.
“oh my god,” you whispered, laughing under your breath, “everything feels… weird.”
he smirked, already leaning back in your desk chair with the joint between his fingers. “weird how?”
“like… floaty. and my face feels funny.”
he chuckled, low and easy. “yeah, that’s the high. you relaxin now. don’t fight it.” he passed the joint back, watching the way your fingers brushed his. “you look cute like this.”
you rolled your eyes, taking another drag just to prove you could. “you keep saying that.”
“cuz it’s true.” he got up from the chair, coming to sit next to you on your bed, his shoulder brushing yours. “you don’t even know. everybody on this campus loud as hell, tryna be seen. but you? sittin here mindin your business, doin hair, actin like you ain’t the prettiest one around.”
your chest fluttered at the way he said it, casual but sure. “you don’t even know me.”
“i know enough,” he said, eyes on you now. “know you been tryna stay lowkey. know you the type that don’t hit nobody up unless you really trust ‘em. so when you texted me? yeah, i noticed.”
you shifted under his gaze, the smoke making it harder to keep your thoughts straight. “i just… i didn’t know who else to ask.”
“nah,” he said, grin tugging his lips, “you coulda asked a few people. but you wanted me. i ain’t mad at it.”
your laugh slipped out soft, shaky. “you’re so full of yourself.”
he leaned closer, shoulder pressing into yours now, his voice dropping like he was letting you in on something. “nah, i’m just observant. and right now, i’m seein you relaxin for the first time since i walked in. kinda like it.”
you didn’t say anything, too busy feeling how close he was, how warm his arm felt against yours.
he tilted his head, watching you with half-lidded eyes. “tell me what’s runnin through your head right now.”
you hesitated, words sticking in your throat. “that… you’re kinda… different than i thought.”
his grin widened slow. “different good or different bad?”
“good,” you admitted, your voice almost a whisper.
he nodded, satisfied, passing you the joint one last time. “that’s all i needed to hear.”
the high hit all at once—like the world softened, music humming low from the hallway outside sounded sweeter, and every color in your room felt warmer. you leaned back against the wall, giggling without meaning to.
“why does everything feel… like this?” you asked, covering your face with your hands.
connie laughed, pulling them down gently. “cuz you high, ma. welcome to the club.”
“i feel stupid,” you admitted, though you were still smiling.
“nah, you look happy. i like it.” he stretched out on your bed now, one arm behind him, the other close enough that his hand brushed your thigh when he moved. “you should smile more.”
you blinked at him, caught off guard. “you say stuff like that too easy.”
he smirked, tilting his head. “and you believe it too easy. means you not used to hearin it.”
you tried to roll your eyes, but it came out softer this time, your cheeks warm. the high made it impossible to hide how flustered you felt.
“see?” he teased, leaning a little closer. “you tryin to fight it, but you like hearin me talk to you like that.”
you shook your head, but he just grinned, brushing the back of his fingers over your hand where it rested on your leg. the touch was light, but it sent heat rushing through you.
“you okay?” he asked, voice low now.
you nodded, staring at his hand against yours. “just… feels different.”
“yeah?” his thumb traced along your knuckles lazily. “good different?”
you swallowed. “yeah.”
he leaned in then, his breath warm against your cheek. “you want me to stop?”
your chest tightened, the question spinning in your head before you managed to shake it. “no.”
that grin tugged at his lips again, but softer this time. he shifted closer, tilting his head just enough for his nose to brush yours, testing the space.
and then you closed it.
his mouth was warm, the kiss unhurried—like he wasn’t in a rush, just letting you feel it. he tasted faintly like smoke and mint gum, his lips moving slow against yours, his hand sliding from your knuckles to hold your jaw gently.
when he finally pulled back, just barely, he kept his forehead against yours, his voice low and teasing.
“told you… i’m a good teacher. lemme teach you something else.”
next thing you know, connie has you on your knees, sunken into the carpet while your hands gripped the sides of the mirror, bent forward just enough to see your own reflection staring back. connie on his knees behind you, one hand firm on your lower back, the other guiding himself against your folds.
“damn,” he muttered, eyes locked on the way you looked spread out for him, “you don’t even know how fine you look right now. first time and you already got me losin my mind.”
the blunt from earlier still lingered on your lips, but all you could focus on was the stretch when he pushed in slow, inch by inch. your mouth fell open at the burn, your body tight around him.
“shhh,” he soothed, rubbing circles into your hip with his thumb. “relax for me, baby. breathe… yeah, just like that. takin me so good.”
you whimpered, watching your own face twist in the glass as he bottomed out, hips flush against yours.
“eyes up,” he told you, leaning over to kiss your shoulder. “don’t run from it. i want you to see how perfect you look takin this dick.”
he pulled back, sliding out halfway before sinking into you again, slow enough to make your legs tremble.
“fuck, you so tight,” he groaned, grip tightening on your waist. “like this pussy was waitin on me.”
you moaned, the sound muffled against your arm, but he reached forward, tugging it away.
“nah, let me hear you. don’t hide nothin from me.” his thrusts picked up, steady but deep, every stroke making your reflection shiver. “good girl… that’s it, moan for me.”
your body gave in, rocking back into him without thinking, your eyes glassy as you watched the way he filled you.
“look at you,” he said, voice dropping, “throwin it back already, like you know exactly what you doin. first time, and you movin like you mine for real.”
his words wrapped around you, pulling more sounds out of your chest with each thrust.
“say it,” he urged, pressing down on your lower back to arch you deeper. “tell me who you belong to.”
“y-you connie,” you gasped, nails clawing at the mirror frame. “i’m yours.”
his smirk showed in the reflection, sweat glinting on his neck as he drove into you harder, the slap of skin filling your dorm.
“that’s my girl,” he groaned, voice rough. “my pretty little first-timer, takin it like a champ.”
your arms shook against the mirror frame, each thrust making the glass rattle faintly. connie’s grip was firm on your waist, pulling you back onto him like he wanted you to feel every inch.
“fuck, you feel too good,” he groaned, eyes glued to where you joined in the reflection. “look at that—pussy grippin me like you don’t wanna let go.”
your mouth dropped open, moans spilling out unrestrained now. the burn of being stretched had melted into heat that curled low in your stomach, spreading sharp and sweet until it was all you could focus on.
“connie,” you whined, voice thin and shaky, “it’s— it’s too much.”
his hand slid from your hip to your stomach, holding you steady. “nah, baby, that’s not too much. that’s your body catchin up. you right there—i can feel it.” his voice dipped, steady and coaxing. “don’t fight it. let go for me.”
your legs trembled, your vision blurring as the rhythm of his hips drove into you. every snap against your ass echoed, every praise spilling from his lips made your chest tighten more.
“so good for me,” he muttered into your ear, leaning down until his chain brushed your back. “first time and you already makin me proud. keep them pretty eyes on the mirror. watch yourself cum on me.”
your body gave in before you could think, your knees nearly buckling as the orgasm ripped through you, sharp and overwhelming. you cried out, clutching the mirror frame like it was the only thing holding you up, your reflection a blur of glassy eyes and parted lips.
“thaaat’s it,” connie praised, voice rough but full of pride. “there she go. that’s my girl. tight as fuck, squeezin me just right.”
he slowed his thrusts but not stopping, letting you ride it out, one hand rubbing soothing circles over your hip while the other pressed against your stomach to ground you.
“breathe, baby,” he whispered against your neck, kissing the damp skin there. “you did so good for me. so fuckin good.”
your chest heaved as you blinked at your reflection, sweat shining on your skin, your body still trembling.
“see that?” he murmured, brushing your hair back so you had no choice but to look. “that’s what it looks like when i make you mine.”
your body was still twitching from the previous orgasm, forehead pressed to the cool glass while you tried to catch your breath. connie didn’t let go of your hips, his thrusts slowing only for a moment before he started rolling back into you again, deeper now, heavier.
“you feel that?” he groaned, dragging himself out slow just to slam back into your heat. “pussy still clenchin on me like you don’t wanna let go. you gon make me lose it, baby.”
you whimpered, your body sensitive, every stroke pulling more sounds out of you.
“mm, that’s it,” he muttered, teeth gritted as he kept his pace steady. “first time, and you lettin me fuck you like this. takin every inch like a good girl. look at you in the mirror, baby see how perfect you look gettin fucked?”
your eyes fluttered open, hazy, catching sight of yourself in the reflection—sweaty, hair messy, connie’s chain glinting against your back as he started thrusting into you again, his jaw tight with focus.
“god, you so fine,” he grunted, fingers digging into your waist. “tightest shit i ever had. you know that? nobody ever gon do you like me.”
his breathing turned ragged, thrusts getting rougher, hips smacking loud against your ass. he leaned over you, chest pressing to your back, his voice low and strained in your ear.
“say it again,” he demanded, voice shaking. “say you mine.”
“i’m yours,” you gasped, barely able to keep your grip on the mirror frame. “all yours, connie.”
“fuck,” he growled, slamming into you harder. “that’s it, baby. keep sayin it.”
“i’m yours,” you repeated, moaning loud as he drove into that spot again and again.
his rhythm faltered, his groans spilling into your neck as his hips stuttered. he pulled you flush against him, burying himself deep with one last thrust.
“shit—fuck—” his voice broke, muffled against your shoulder as he came, holding you tight while his release spilled hot inside you.
he stayed there, chest pressed to your back, both of you breathing hard, your reflections hazy with sweat.
after a long moment, he kissed your shoulder softly, his hands rubbing gentle circles on your waist.
“damn, baby,” he whispered with a lazy grin, still catching his breath. “first time and you already got me tappin out. told you—you was made for me.”
