hi hi haiii!! I stumbled across your writings a bit ago and recently noticed that you’ve got requests opened! I love your writings (literally cannot stop rereading every Ichigo x reader in existence ack), so if it’s not too much to ask, may you please write an Ichi x fem!reader in which it’s his first time and he’s so overwhelmed with how it feels that he holds reader’s hand and can’t stop telling reader that he loves her? Kind of like the first one you did, where he was needy but jst a lil different?
Thank you so much for the request!! Sorry my brain is mush right now 😵💫😵💫 just had exams and I slept on my hand funny so it hurt to write
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ fem! Reader x virgin Ichigo kurosaki, first time sex, riding, subby ichigo ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
That ache. That familiar ache in his pants he can never seem to get rid of. That god forsaken ache that flares up at the most inconvenient times — Ichigo never knowing how to handle it. He's tried touching himself, of course he has, but it never seems to work, never managed to soothe that painstaking ache that wells up whenever he catches a glimpse of his gorgeous girlfriend.
How could he help himself? Your perfect tits practically spilling out of those pretty, low cut tops you wear all innocent and wide eyed like you don't know the depraved dependent you've been feeding. God he couldn't imagine a better sight. How could he help himself? Coming home from his job, walking into their kitchen seeing you in a messy apron, pink lips parted in concentration, brows furrowing pouring the batter of the gooey brownies you're making into a tray, just for him, because he mentioned he loves chocolate once in passing. Again, that ache, and he doesn't know what to do.
Ichigo's always been on the bigger side, he knew that. Too scared of ever bringing harm to you he never bothers you with it, stroking his length desperately but barely ever managing to spill over. His hands never being enough, never managing to set a pace that's pleasing to him.
He wraps his protective arms around you from behind nuzzling into your neck as you giggle out "Ichi 'm almost done, how was work?" But not a word flows into him, brain already turning to mush as he breathes in your scent, letting it wash over him as he shivers. You press a gentle kiss against his nose before untangling yourself from his arms, putting the tray in the oven. "I'm gonna shower, make sure the brownies don't burn" you say softly, turning to go up the stairs... And Ichigo, poor, desperate Ichigo just can't help imagining your sweet, soaked body.
It isn't his fault really. It isn't his fault he's tented up in his pants. It isn't his fault he's already making his way to your shared bedroom goal already set in mind. It isn't his fault he practically yanks the pillow you sleep on down to where his crotch is, needing some kind of relief. It isn't his fault he grinds up against it whines spilling from his parted lips, his hips snapping back and forth. He throws his head back, veiny hands fisted against the white sheets you both lie in. He really doesn't mean to but he can't help how loud he is, can't hide his desperation for her. His love. He buries his face against the covers breathing in your scent rutting even harder but still, no build-up, no relief.
Ichigo tears up, letting out pained whimpers, senses dulled as he keeps thrusting, not noticing you walking in, towel barely covering your body, eyes immediately darting towards him ramming into your pillow, thoughts lost in the image of your soapy body — suds dripping down your tits. God he loved your tits, and your thighs, and your ass, and your fingers, whenever they brush through his hair, and-
"Ichi...?" You call out gently interrupting his fantasies, not wanting to startle him when he looks ever so vulnerable in this state — tears spilling down his sanguine cheeks in frustration, biting his lip so hard almost drawing blood. His eyes widen snapping towards you as you walk over, scrambling for the sheets as if it'll help him maintain some semblance of dignity.
One hand lifts, carefully cupping his flushed cheek, wiping his misty eyes and shushing him softly as if tending to a wounded lamb. "Baby what's wrong?" You coo out, voice honeyed, tilting his chin to look at you. He nestles his face into your warm hand pressing eager kisses against your palm, mind too mushy to speak.
"Shh I'll take care of you, I promise" you dote on him lovingly, squeezing his hand delicately, taking your hand away from his cheek. And he grieves, whines at the loss of your touch needing something of you to hold onto as if it tethers him to reality.
You pull him into a messy kiss — all passion as you practically devour him, consume him, destroy him. You yank his shirt off then tug his pants down leaving him in black boxers. Fingers teasing as you run them over his bulge, straining against the cotton material. He shudders, lips parting, hips bucking up needing you to envelop him completely worshiping you, praying to whatever diety out there for your benevolent touch.
You look down at him, a picture of dedication, wishing to sacrifice himself for an ounce of your pleasure. You tug down his boxers, dick springing free as you take it all in. He's so pretty, base thick and large, his tip all red, raw and leaking, curving slightly to the right, one prominent vein on the underside of his cock. It'll be hard to take that.
You kneel down in front of him, Ichigo's eyes tracking your every movement his heart beating with the sound of his love for you. You place a gentle kiss against his tip giving it a testing kitty lick and he trembles.
Standing back up you drop the towel lining his cock up with your fluttering heat slowly sinking down stretch burning. And Ichigo? Ichigo groans, eyes rolling back into his head, tightness gripping his cock practically milking him as you sink all the way down, almost cumming as he grips onto your hands babbling out I love yous.
He looks so good under you, head thrown back as you start to rock your hips against his gently building up a rhythm, Ichigo practically inconsolable, too lost to do anything but sit there clinging onto your hands. Your gummy walls squeezing his cock as you speed up.
Sweat pools down his chest, each plap only serving to feed his veneration. His voice comes out a melody reserved for just you, a carnal secret the two of you share, each rise and fall of your hips turning groans to moans, delcaring his love for you. That familiar feeling stirs up in your gut building up rapidly, legs twitching.
Your hands steady themselves against his built chest, using it as leverage, rolling your hips against his swiftly — fervour taking over, feeling him twitch inside. Sinking back down cunt clenching around his base tightly, nails tracing patterns down his body as he sputters out "I love you Y/n" Stilling inside you as he clambers over the edge, ropes of his hot cum spilling inside you, bringing your hand to his lips gluing himself to you as you gasp. That feeling leaking over as you burst, frantically grinding your hips against his, clit meeting his pubic bone riding our your high, lascivious moans breaking free from your lips. You press a tender kiss against his sweaty forehead feeling him deep inside as you pull him out, his seed dripping out, watching him all spent still squeezing your hand, brainless.
"Ichi baby come back to me" you say softly and he listens all attentive hanging onto every last word. "Let's get you cleaned up yeah?" You brush his ginger hair out of his face pressing another kiss, this one on his nose.
Hope you enjoy it nonnie !!
