“f-fuck—’con! get offa meeemmh!” you whine in half-complaint, half-pleasure when he has you flat on your back, clothes discarded fresh off the wake up. you were in deep sleep less than 10 minutes ago but connie woke up with a craving knowing you were freshly waxed and always warm and dripping wet in the AM.
you cannot be freshly waxed around connie—it’s basically a death sentence. that little ‘no sex for 24-hours’ warning your waxer gave you? your eater of a boyfriend couldn’t care any less. not one bit. don’t get him wrong though—connie loves you no matter what. shaved, grown out, untouched. he’s never been picky about that. but when that 6 week appointment hits and your chubby folds are soft, letting him get a clear view of the sensitive bundle of nerves calling his name—he’d tug your panties down right outside the shop again if you’d let him, eating like he lives and breathes for it. your pussy is connie’s therapy. basically.
that’s why the sun barely had a chance to rise before he had you a moaning mess, your body responding before your brain could catch up. the heat pooling between you had him grinning with your whole pussy filling his mouth. the bottom half drenched in your creamy arousal while he presses his tongue flat on your throbbing clit. nasty ‘slp, slp, sllp, slrp’ sounds filled the room as you thrashed around the bed with a muffled “stop movin’” vibrating against you as he follows you wherever you go. your pussy is loud at this point—you know almost a hundred percent it can be heard from the other room.
“pa—you—need t’—stop—this—shiittt!” you gasp, voice breaking between moans and frustration as your long nails claw through his bleached buzzcut. a sigh falls from your lips when you feel him finally ease up only for the pads of his fingertips to land precisely on your clit, the mixture of his spit and your cum making the delicious friction slippery. connie’s bottom lip disappears between his teeth while you attempt and fail to catch your breath while his fingers perfectly fit between your fat pussy lips. your legs instinctively close around him as he rubs faster which was apparently the last straw the way one of his built arms pushed one of your legs to your chest—fully exposing you again before he decides to start repeatedly slapping the cum out of your swollen cunt. “what i tell you? keep movin’ like you don’t love me abusin’ her.” you grow embarrassed when he calls you out while he watches you grow wetter, legs trembling every slap before you reach for his hand. “let me make connie baby cream, ‘m almost done.”
a/n: woke up with the head cannon that connie loves freshly waxed pussy…anyways happy monday!
“Dickin’ Me Down, Spolin’ Me.” Lover Girl❥Megan Thee Stallion
wc- 0.630
Summary- Cameron never fails to spoil you and make sure you can't walk for a week.
A/n: This idea came before all the bullshit with Kl*y and I didn't feel like finding another song. My smut is a little rusty but enjoy this nasty drabble!
CW- Mature Content, P in V, dirty talk, car sex, cowgirl, ass grabbing & smacking, condomless sex(wrap yo shit), pet names(slut, pretty girl), he calls himself daddy(twice), maybe a little repetitive, etc.
He had the money.
Why not spend it on his lady? That's all he did, spoil you endlessly, store to store, card from card, rack on rack, and bag strings leaving imprints on his arm.
You were his girl and in his eyes, you deserved it all.
Channel
Prada
Gucci
The list goes on, you were laced in luxury and money. Your outfits normally cost more than the store you were in. It was a routine you got used to, but of course, there was a trade.
The car was humid and polluted with the smell of your sweat and the sappy juices riding down onto the seat. Your sweat-soaked skin clung together, warm breaths against each other's skin, disheveled and heated.
Your heavy thighs were pinned on either side of his, your sweat and fluids mixing into a moist solution smeared all over both of you.
The pressure of his large fingers shoving into the meaty fat of your ass and his dirty whispers kept your hips rolling forward in slow drags.
“Look at you, a nasty mess for me. Take all this dick, I know your pretty pussy can.” His words laced with lewdness, made sparks ride up from your gaping hole to your throat causing a choked moan to pour from your mouth.
“Fffuck Cam!” The pornographic cry was so loud that you were certain someone heard you outside the car.
“Dirty slut, takin’ all of me and moanin’ my name. You want Daddy to fill you up huh?” He tauntingly cooed, drilling his hips upwards and dragging his length through your sticky insides while his cock head collided with your G-spot.
“Y-yes please!” You mewled, drawing your hips in a sensual motion, pinning your hip bone against his as your walls embraced each inch of iron length.
“Do right then, pretty girl.” With those words came a hard slap, the sound rippled through the air. Your squeal that came along was high and piercing, the impact encouraged you to move faster.
His cock was pinned in place and you rode back and forth, hips dancing and pussy squirming around him. Your hole squirted and squeezed around him, leaving creamy juices riding down him.
His hot tip leaked droplets of pre that mixed with your lubrication, his head was pinned to the headrest, and his hands were digging into your flesh while he swallowed back groans of pleasure.
You towed your hips perfectly dragging over the sensitive veins of his hardened cock, your motion colliding with his bulging sensitive veins, and your walls hugging his inches he could feel his orgasm building at a relentless pace quicker than he intended.
“Fuuuck,” he groaned as the orgasm ran over him, “keep goin’ pretty girl, let daddy milk you.” He choked on his last few words, his tip shooting out hot ropes of cum, painting your tight walls white.
He hammered up, fitting himself deep inside of you and gaining a merciless pound. Your fingers curled around his biceps, fingers pressing deep into the sweaty flesh, biting back the screams daring to leave your lips.
One last tight hug around him then you released. Your cum spewed out of your hole gapping open, gushing out of you along with your cries of pleasure.
“Cam shiit!” The tears fell over your waterline because of the overwhelming pleasure, your eyes squeezed shut and your head thrown back.
After the ecstasy of your orgasms, your head fell onto his chest while you breathed in his scent. His finger trailed down your spine in a somewhat comfortable motion and his nose was pressed against your scalp.
“You good?” His smoky voice cut the silence.
“Mhm.” You mumbled with a nod.
“Alright, we'll clean up and go get those sunglasses you've been asking for.”
( 𝐗𝐗𝐈 ) ─── You gon get enough of pissing Smoke off.
⤷ ┃18+ drabble. black!reader. submissive!reader. bratty!crybaby!reader. mean!smoke. older!smoke. modern!smoke. rough!smoke. sexual themes. profanity used. size kink. forced riding. degrading. choking. bodily fluids—spitting. crying kink. pussy slapping. overstimulation. dirty talk. this is filthy .. don’t read if you not ready!
“You can’t take it, huh?” Smoke grunted, voice all gravel and vicious behind your ear. “That’s what all this squirming about?” Your thighs were already shaking and he hadn’t even bottomed out yet. You were straddling him in the middle of the living room, knees spread wide on the rough denim of his jeans, pussy split and dripping down the thick head of his dick like it was leaking for mercy and forgiveness.
He was leaned back into the couch, thighs spread, arms thrown lazily over the backrest like he had all night to watch you try and fail—to take his dick.
The problem was…Elijah Moore had the kind of dick that made your pussy stupid. Fat. Girthy. Veiny. Heavy in your hand. The kind of thick that made your walls burn before you even sat all the way down. Your lips had to stretch wide just to suck the tip. And your pussy clenched at the idea of it. You could barely get halfway before your breath caught and your hips stalled from the pressure.
And he was loving that. “Aww,” he mocked, one hand coming up to grip your throat as you whined again, hips trembling mid-drop. “Poor baby crying. Can’t fit grown man dick in that tight hole, huh?” You sniffled, fat lips parted, tears threatening to spill.
He gave your cheek a slap—not hard, just enough to make you gasp. “Don’t you fuckin cry now girl. You was talkin all that sweet shit earlier. Had all that attitude, walkin around my house damn near naked, beggin for attention.” You tried to rock your hips again. Barely made it an inch before your pussy clamped down hard. It was too much—too deep. Too wide. You could feel every inch of him splitting you open.
Smoke grabbed your waist with both hands, digging his thick fingers into your soft sides.“You don’t get to tap out on me,” he growled, eyes low. “Not when you got this sloppy ass drippin all over my jeans.” He forced your hips down a little more—slow, delicate, just enough for another inch to sink inside.
You cried out, head falling against his shoulder. “Elijah—” “What?” he barked. “Say it. Say you can’t take this dick.” “I can’t,” you whimpered. “I c-can’t take it, it’s too—” “Too fuckin what?” he hissed, grabbing your face in one hand and squeezing your cheeks. “Too big? Too thick for your greedy ass pussy? Then why’s she suckin me in like she missed me?”
He slapped your ass hard, once, then again—and bounced you on his lap without mercy. You screamed, legs flailing as he bottomed you out in one cruel motion. “Oh my God—” “That’s it,” he grunted, holding you there while your pussy pulsed and struggled around the stretch. “Take all of it. Cry on it. Sit that heavy fuckin ass down and milk my dick like the bratty bitch you is.”
You could barely breathe. Could barely think. His dick was everywhere—pressing against your gummy walls, knocking the air out of your lungs, rubbing so deep it felt like it was in your guts—hell he was in your guts.
Smoke grabbed your throat again and spat in your mouth. “Swallow it.” You did. Gasping. Shaking. He pulled your shirt up—just enough to expose your titties—and shoved one into his mouth, biting the soft flesh just hard enough to make you jolt. “Look at you,” he muttered against your skin. “Full of attitude, always runnin your smart ass mouth. But sit on some real dick and now you cryin. Fallin apart like a spoiled brat.”
You nodded, fucked-out and drooling, fat tears finally spilling down your face. “Say thank you.”“Th-Thank you, Elijah.” He slapped your swollen clit once. Then again. “Louder.” “Thank you, Elijah!” And he just laughed, licking his thumb and rubbing circles around your puffy clit while your body bucked like it couldn’t take anymore. “That’s what I thought,” he whispered. “Now ride it til I say you done.”
( 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐘’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ) ─── oh my god! who wrote this?? i may or may not have been listening to ego by beyonce. @/viviansturns on the dividers!
PAIRING: tyriq withers as “cameron ‘cam’ cade” from “him (2025)” x black!fem!plus-sized!reader
SUMMARY: inspired by “King Of The Fall” by The Weekend + this edit + in which you and Cameron are just fuck buddies, but the lines started becoming blurred when you caught feelings for him and you start to realize how “relationship-y” your “no-strings attached” dynamic is. 🤍
“i got a girl at home even though she ain’t mine yet, and she gon’ give it up ‘cause she know i might like it…”
you and Cameron Cade had a complicated relationship to say the least — except it wasn’t complicated to anybody but you.
you and Cameron were just fuck buddies, or a ‘situationship’ as you called it. you were someone he could vent to about his day and about his football career, but you were also someone he called whenever he needed to get his rocks off. that’s all it was supposed to be, honestly. but somehow, you fucked around and caught feelings for him, which was by far the biggest mistake you had made.
you never told Cameron how you felt, but you had a feeling he knew because of the shift in his behavior towards you. he started spending more time with you than usual, but also kept you at arm’s length at the same time. for example, instead of getting dressed after you two had sex like he’d usually do, he’d stick around for a while and cuddle with you, which caught you off guard the first time he did it but you didn’t complain.
there would also be times where he’d randomly show up unannounced just to lounge around your apartment with you — no sex, no head, just vibes and good times. however, that didn’t change the fact that he’d only hit you up whenever he wanted to fuck you.
he’d call you ‘baby’, but would also subtly remind you that you and him weren’t a couple in the same breath, which only worsened the internal conflict you were facing.
eventually, you developed a soft spot for Cameron, never being able to tell him no but knowing sometimes you needed to. you knew you needed to stand up and either own up to your feelings or completely step away from your situationship to preserve your worth, but you didn’t want to do either of them.
you didn’t want to tell him how you felt because you knew he didn’t feel the same way, but you didn’t want to stop seeing him because you loved the way he made your body feel.
in a way, you felt weak. how could you let some good dick keep you somewhere where your emotional needs won’t be met? were you that dick-matized to the point where you couldn’t stand on business and speak up instead of staying silent?
you knew better, and you were aware that you knew better, but that wasn’t going to stop you from seeing your man who wasn’t your man but should’ve been your man.
it was around 1 A.M. on a Saturday morning and you laid in your bed half-asleep, pajamas and bonnet on while you groggily watched the movie playing on your TV. letting out a soft yawn, you were about to reach over and grab your remote to turn your volume down a little so you could go to bed, but three firm knocks at your front door made you pause, a furrow forming between your eyebrows while you turned your head towards your closed bedroom door.
“who the fuck…?” you mumbled to yourself, your voice barely audible, as you huffed softly and reluctantly pulled your covers back, getting up from the bed and walking over to your bedroom door.
pulling open the door, you adjusted your bonnet on your head and turned on the living room light as you made your way to the front door and leaned forward, your eyes searching through the peephole while one of your hands rested on your doorknob and the other rested on your hip. your gaze landed on none other than Cameron Cade, and a look of confusion crossed your face as you pulled back from the peephole and twisted the lock, pulling the door open and looking up at the 6’5” guest.
“Cam, it’s like 1 o’clock, why you here?” you asked, your eyebrows furrowing a little in confusion, as Cameron’s eyes landed on yours and you instantly noticed that they were pink-tinted and sitting lower than usual, the dots immediately connecting in your head that he was high, “don’t tell me you drove here like that.”
“mm-mm. had my brother drop me off,” Cameron answered lowly, his voice slightly husky, as he eyed you down for a moment before meeting your gaze again, “you gon’ let me in or we gon’ have a starin’ contest, ma?”
you smacked your lips and ultimately cracked a small smile as you stepped to the side and opened the door wider, allowing him entry, “you still not tellin’ me why you here at 1 in the mornin’, Cam. you’d usually text me and let me know if you were comin’ over.”
“‘cause you was on my mind,” Cameron shrugged casually, walking inside, as he pushed his hood off of his head and you paused at his words, your heart nearly dropping to your ass while you closed and locked the door behind him, “plus, i wasn’t expecting you the answer the door anyway. i thought you was sleep.”
“i mean, i was ‘bout to go to sleep, but then you popped up at my door like the boogeyman and shit,” you chuckled, making Cameron grin a little, as you walked away from the door and turned off the light in the living room while you led Cameron to your bedroom, “you lucky my roommate not here, she would’ve been mad as hell at you knockin’ on the door this early in the mornin’.”
“ain’t nobody scared of yo’ lil’ roommate, girl,” Cameron chuckled in amusement, closing your bedroom door behind him, as he watched you walk over to your bedside table and turn on your lamp, “i can be over here any time i want, what she gon’ do?”
“she gon’ cuss yo’ ass out,” you laughed, taking a seat on your bed, as Cameron’s lips curled up into a smile and he laughed, gripping the hem of his hoodie and pulling it over his head, “no outside clothes on my bed, Cam.”
“i know that, ma,” Cameron murmured, tossing his hoodie in your armchair in the corner of your room, as he pulled off his shirt and tossed it on top of his hoodie, his gold chains shifting around his neck, “i still got some clothes over here, don’t i?”
that question made you pause — not in thought, but in realization. you two were just supposed to be fuck buddies, but what kind of fuck buddies had their clothes at their fuck buddy’s apartment? that’s why you considered this a situationship — you two weren’t together, but somehow did relationship things.
“yeah, you do. check my nightstand over there,” you answered as you gestured towards your nightstand that was beside the other side of the bed with your index finger and watched him walk over to it, “shirts in the top, pants in the bottom.”
“damn, how much of my clothes over here?” Cameron chuckled softly, opening the top drawer, as his eyes landed on three of his shirts folded neatly and he moved to open the bottom drawer, revealing four pairs of his sweatpants folded as neatly as his shirts.
“like you don’t be wanting me to do your damn laundry when you be over here,” you laughed, raising your eyebrows a little, as you watched him grab a pair of sweatpants and close both of the drawers, “all of that is clothes that you forgot to take with you, but knowing you, you probably left that shit on purpose.”
“i did,” Cameron cockily smirked, stripping from his jeans, as he tossed them on top of his shirt and hoodie and slipped on the pair of sweatpants, letting them slightly hang low and reveal the waistband of his boxers, “gotta’ keep the rest of yo’ niggas away from here.”
“Cameron, do not piss me off,” your face instantly contorted into a deadpan expression, your face as straight as ever while you glared at the light-skinned man in your room, “stop playin’ like i be having other niggas over here.”
“my fault, baby,” Cameron playfully cooed, a small smirk on his face, as he leaned down onto ‘his’ side of the bed and supported his weight with his fists, his eyes glinting in amusement at your sour expression while he leaned closer to you, “forgot it ain’t no other niggas that can compare to me.”
“you a cocky motherfucker, you know that?” your blank face ultimately cracked and you grinned as you raised an eyebrow and Cameron chuckled softly, his smirk widening while he tilted his head a little.
“mhm… that pussy still all mine, pretty,” Cameron murmured as his gaze momentarily dropped to your lips before flickering back to your eyes, “ain’t that right?”
“you know that, Cam.” you mumbled, the atmosphere in the room slowly starting to shift into something lustful, as Cameron pulled back the covers and lowered one of his knees onto the bed, causing a dip in the mattress from his body weight while he leaned closer to you.
“you right, but i wanna hear you say it,” Cameron cockily smirked, lifting one of his hands from the bed, as he gently grabbed your chin and tilted your head further up to meet his gaze, “tell me that’s my pussy, ma.”
as you stared up into his colored eyes, the gears in your head started turning. you had feelings for him, but you didn’t know if he felt the same way, so you assumed he didn’t. the two of you were only supposed to be fucking with no strings attached, yet there were strings slowly becoming connected to you and not him.
you were single, but Cameron didn’t want to share you with anyone else. Cameron was single, but you didn’t want to share him with anyone else. you two were only fucking yet weren’t fond of sharing each other with other people… so, what the fuck were the two of you even doing at this point?
you were confused your damn self. you weren’t dating Cameron yet you couldn’t bring yourself to actually go out and talk to other men because you couldn’t think about anyone but him. however, Cameron wasn’t your man, so why the hell were you being loyal to a man who hadn’t even asked you to be his girlfriend?
plus, who knows how many bitches he probably entertains behind your back?
“…this is your pussy, Cam,” you confirmed softly, your eyes searching his, as you reached up and grabbed onto one of his shoulders and rested your other hand against the side of his face, your thumb stroking his cheekbone, “always gon’ be your pussy, baby.”
a wide cocky smirk spread across Cameron’s face and he hummed softly in appreciation as he leaned closer to you, his face now inches from yours while his gaze remained fixated on your lips, “that’s my girl.”
“C-Cam, please,” you whined desperately as you pushed at his head and tried to shift away from his mouth, your legs weakly thrashing around to kick him away, “i-i can’t, baby, please…”
Cameron smirked a little and raised his head from between your legs as he let go of your thick thighs and ran his tongue over his wet lips, the lower half of his face completely soaked from the amount of times he’d made you cum — you honestly lost count.
“you sensitive, baby?” Cameron cooed teasingly, his low eyes gazing down at your curvy body, as you whimpered softly in response and he chuckled softly, rising from between your thighs and moving to hover above you, “it’s a’ight, i’ma make you feel better.”
“Cameron,” you whined softly, a small pout forming on your lips, as Cameron grinned down at you and kissed your pout away, making you smile a little, “fucking me is not gonna help my sensitivity.”
“it will when i talk you through it.” Cameron mumbled, pressing a soft brief kiss against your lips, as he effortlessly stripped from his sweatpants and boxers, his dick flinging out and resting against your inner thigh.
one thing you learned about Cameron is that when he was high, his sex drive increased and he was much more focused and intentional with what he’d do when he’d touch you. he’d take his time with you and eat you real slow and nasty how you liked, which is what he spent the past few minutes doing to the point your pussy had gotten sensitive to touch.
he’d take his time when he fucked you, too. he’d thrust real deep yet slow all at once, making sure you felt every inch of him inside you and every vein throb against your walls once you clenched around him a little too tight. it’d almost feel like he was making love to you, but you didn’t want to be delusional about it — however, it was kind of hard not to be when he was worshipping your body like you were a goddess.
a soft gasp fell from your lips as Cameron pushed inside you, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you spread open while he slowly eased inside you. your hands held onto his upper arms and your eyes drifted down to your pussy as you watched Cameron’s dick slowly disappear inside your walls, a moan falling from your lips once he bottomed out.
“there you go, baby, you takin’ this dick like a big girl,” Cameron cooed, hiking your thighs up to his waist, as your eyes flickered up to him and you watched him lean down, his face inches from yours again while he slowly rocked his hips against yours, “pussy all sensitive and she still lettin’ me slip inside her like i ain’t just eat her off the bone.”
a mewl fell from your lips at his words and your eyelids slightly fluttered as your hands shifted from his upper arms to his back, holding onto him while he continued his slow and deep thrusts. your lips fell ajar and your eyebrows furrowed a little as soft whimpers and whines fell from your open mouth, your eyes remaining locked with Cameron’s while his hips pressed flush against yours with each slow thrust.
“C-Cameron,” you whimpered softly, your eyes dazedly searching his, as Cameron slightly tightened his grip on your thighs and rested his forehead against yours, his eyes never leaving yours while his dick continued hitting all those right spots inside you, “fuuuck, you feel so good, baby… so, so good…”
“yeah? you like the way this dick stretch you out, mama?” Cameron murmured, planting soft kisses against your cheeks, as you moaned and weakly nodded your head, “use your words, pretty. keep talkin’ to me.”
“uh-huuuh,” you moaned out, your head leaning back, as your grip on Cameron’s back slightly tightened and your eyes rolled back, a small furrow forming between your eyebrows, “oh, baby, you so f-fuckin’ deep, i can’t…”
“you can’t what? hm?” Cameron mumbled against your jawline as he pressed soft kisses along it before sipping his head down to the crook of your neck, “don’t say you can’t take it, baby, you takin’ it real good for me.”
“i c-can’t… can’t th-think,” you confessed in a whimper as you felt him lift one of your thick legs a little higher and you moaned loudly, your body instinctively arching into his, “fuuuck, baby, you fuckin’ me so goodddd…”
“mhm, i hit that spot, didn’t i, baby?” you couldn’t see his face, but you knew he had the biggest smirk sitting on it because you could hear it in his voice, and you felt him grip your leg a bit tighter before hoisting it over his shoulder, making you gasp loudly.
“C-Cam!” you cried out, feeling him much deeper from the change in his angle, as the furrow between your eyebrows deepened and your jaw went slack, your mouth hanging open while Cameron left faint hickeys against your melanated skin.
“i’m right here, baby. i got you,” Cameron mumbled against your neck, his voice barely audible, as one of your hands cradled his head and the other gripped his back, your nails starting to seep into his skin and leave red scratches down his back that elicited a guttural moan from his mouth, “you feel so damn good, girl, shit. this pussy so muh’fuckin’ good, ma, i can’t get enough of this shit…”
his words went in one ear and out the other as your brain went on autopilot and your body slowly turned into mush, whines and cries falling from your lips while Cameron continued thrusting against your g-spot. his chains pressed against your chest and the coldness of them sent chills through you as squelching noises filled the room with every thrust from how wet you had gotten, his touch and his dick amplifying your pleasure to a higher degree.
“you hear that, baby? that pussy talkin’ to me,” Cameron smirked, raising his head from your neck, as he looked down at you and rolled his hips a little harder, listening to the way you gasped softly and feeling the way your walls tightened around him, “she sound so pretty for me, too. she makin’ all them pretty lil’ squelching noises for me ‘cause i’m fuckin’ her just how she like it. she so fuckin’ good for me, baby.”
“o-oh, fuuuck— Cam, i-i’m gonna cuuuuum!” you suddenly cried out, your hips jerking, as your eyes tightly squeezed shut and your grip on his back tightened further, your hand that was cradling his head sliding down to firmly hold onto his shoulder, “uuuugh, shit, shit, shiiiit!”
“cum for me, pretty. let that shit go, mama. show me how much that pussy love me and wet this dick up.” Cameron’s vulgar words sent you over the edge and your head fell further back between your pillows, your bonnet starting to slip off of your head, as your legs trembled and your walls fluttered momentarily before abruptly clamping down on him, a sharp cry falling from your lips while your jaw dropped and your orgasm roughly ripped through you.
“fuuuuuck— o-ohhhh, my— nnnnngh!” broken rambles of cries of pleasure fell from your lips as you struggled to handle the intensity your climax, the trembling in your legs intensifying and making you cling onto Cameron tighter than before while he continued stroking you through your aftershocks.
“shhh… breathe, baby, c’mon,” Cameron cooed softly, gently pulling your head up from between your pillows, as he pressed a soft kiss against your forehead and gently lowered your trembly leg from his shoulder, “open them pretty eyes and look at me so i can help you breathe, mama.”
simultaneously, your eyes slowly fluttered open and you started focusing on your breathing, a dazed look in your pupils while you looked up at Cameron with hooded eyes. as your body started to relax, your hands let go of his back and you cupped his face instead as you blinked slowly, taking his facial features in while you came down from your orgasmic bliss.
“you good?” Cameron asked softly, his eyes searching yours, as his hands gently caressed your thighs and you nodded slowly, a small smile pulling at the corners of your mouth while you leaned up a little and pressed a soft brief kiss against his lips.
“i’m good, baby.” you reassured softly, your voice now holding a slight rasp to it, as Cameron grinned and leaned down to you, capturing your lips into a slow kiss while his hips continued slowly gyrating against yours.
little did you know, when you awoke in the morning, Cameron would be nowhere to be found.
cw: cnc, fisting etc. don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable.
my first headcanons😭🤍 lmk if you like it plz :) thx to my mutuals that convinced me to post this!!!!!!!!
⋮ ⌗ ┆ your body's takin over youˎˊ˗
PERVY!BSF BEYONCÉ… who always offers for the sleepover to be at her house. she claims her bed is bigger and more comfortable but really she loves having you trapped in her space where she can watch every little move you make.
⋮ ⌗ ┆ the bed is your stage.. take it away ˎˊ˗
PERVY!BSF BEYONCÉ… who during game nights, she bets silly things but always turns the stakes nasty when she wins. like last time, she made you let her suck on your tits until they were covered in marks she could admire the next morning.
⋮ ⌗ ┆ I really wanna see you act out ˎˊ˗
PERVY!BSF BEYONCÉ… who starts wearing less and less around you during sleepovers until she is basically naked under the sheets. she presses herself against you while cuddling you claiming she’s hot. she moans softly when you shift.
⋮ ⌗ ┆now baby we can take it slow ˎˊ˗
PERVY!BSF BEYONCÉ… who always finds excuses to apply lotion on your body after showers. she rubs it in across your body and down to your ass squeezing the flesh until it spills between her fingers. her thumbs brush your nipples on purpose until they harden and she bites her lip watching them.
⋮ ⌗ ┆ you know I'm your number one fan babe ˎˊ˗
PERVY!BSF BEYONCÉ… who hides your panties after you change into her clothes so you have to go without them under her shorts. she spends the night staring at the way the shorts clings to your bare pussy lips when you move.
⋮ ⌗ ┆ put on a show, put on a play ˎˊ˗
PERVY!BSF BEYONCÉ… who loves cooking for you but always slips her fingers into her wet pussy first then stirs the food with them. she serves it with a sweet smile knowing you are tasting her juices. later she asks if it was good while her eyes burn with dirty satisfaction.
⋮ ⌗ ┆give it to me don't hold back babe ˎˊ˗
PERVY!BSF BEYONCÉ… who sits on your lap facing you & grinds her bare cunt against yours. her clit rubs hard on yours mixing your juices as she rides faster. she cums hard smearing it all over your pussy then drops down to lap it up.
⋮ ⌗ ┆ take it slow ˎˊ˗
PERVY!BSF BEYONCÉ… who fists your pussy after getting you soaking wet. pushing in slow until her hand is buried inside you. she twists and pumps watching your body stretch around her wrist until her own cunt is throbbing at the sight.
⋮ ⌗ ┆get those cameras rollin right now ˎˊ˗
PERVY!BSF BEYONCÉ… who presses her pussy against your thigh and humps it slowly while pretending to be asleep. her wetness coats your skin as she grinds harder when your leg twitches. she cums quietly but leaves a sticky mess for you to find in the morning.
⋮ ⌗ ┆don’t let go, i can hear your body ˎˊ˗
PERVY!BSF BEYONCÉ… who as you finish climbs up and makes you taste yourself on her tongue while her fingers slide into your soaked hole. as she fucks you while staring deep into your eyes the whole time. her pervy obsession shows in how she claims every inch of you.
I hate when I’m reading a good ass fic and a man come up to me and start a random ass conservation. Like sir you are taking time away from me and my husband. LEAVE ME ALONEEE!!!!!
While shopping at a cute boutique, you run into your friend Rangiku Matsumoto—the chaotic and beautiful Lieutenant of the Soul Society's 10th Division. She stops to chat for a moment before being whisked away by her duties. But the separation doesn't last long. Late that night, she shows up at your door claiming she wants a sleepover. As it turns out, "sleeping" is the last thing on her mind, and the two of you stay up for hours exploring a whole new side of your relationship with a variety of toys.
·⭑·6,386 words, build up, light banter, smut/explicit sexual content(18+), making out, cunnilingus, groping, praise, a hint of degradation, dirty talk, use of toys (rabbit vibrator, rose toy, and dildo), service dom reader, overstimulation, petnames/name-calling(e.g., baby, sweetie, honey, doll, good girl), etc ·⭑·
Will edit later; ignore the mistakes!
For the Gala Of Pride (A Pride Month Collaboration Between @h3avenlyglory & @mtcloudsworld)
·⭑·18+ 𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝑫𝒐 𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝑰𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕·⭑·
The brass chimes above the door of Ore's Oasis let out a soft, melodic chime every time a customer walked in, but your attention was consumed by the rack of imported linen in front of you. The mid-day sun was scorching outside, baking the city streets in a hazy, blistering heat, but inside the boutique, the air conditioning hummed a cool, crisp tune.
You held a small, woven shopping basket in your left hand, already containing a pair of one pieces and a gold anklet. You were trying to exercise some financial restraint, but everything in this shop was too cute.
Suddenly, the hair on the back of your arms stood up.
A ripple altered the atmospheric pressure in the room. To an ordinary human, it would have felt like a passing dizzy spell or a drop in indoor temperature. But to you—carrying a reservoir of spiritual pressure that had spiked drastically over the last few years—it was a beacon. You tensed for a fraction of a second, your fingers freezing on a hanger, before the specific flavor of the energy registered. It was warm, dizzying, incredibly vast, and carried the subtle, unmistakable undertone of premium sake.
You relaxed, a helpless smile tugging at your lips. You knew exactly who that belonged to.
You had met Rangiku Matsumoto a few months back under eventful circumstances. You’d been over at Orihime Inoue’s apartment attempting to teach her how to cook a standard, edible meal without her adding red bean paste, whipped cream, or mustard to a traditional hotpot. Midway through chopping scallions, Rangiku had materialized through the kitchen window, completely unannounced, clad in her black Soul Reaper robes and looking for a place to crash. The two of you had hit it off instantly over shared frustrations regarding stubborn men, a mutual love for retail therapy, and affection your friends.
Shaking off the memory, you pulled a piece from the rack. It was a gorgeous, lightweight top featuring a vibrant, swirling pattern of pastel yellow, blush pink, and cream white. It was airy for the hot weather. You checked the tag—your size. Perfect. But the matching shorts were scattered, forcing you to begin flipping through the hangers to find your fit.
Ding.
The door chimes rattled again, much louder this time. At the exact same moment, a prickle of discomfort hit your neck. You could feel someone staring at you. Hard.
You spun around on your heel, a "what the hell are you looking at" glare already locked onto your features. You were well-trained in the art of handling creeps. A man a few feet away, holding a shopping bag for his girlfriend, was staring wide-eyed, his mouth practically hanging open. But as you tracked the trajectory of his glazed eyes, you realized something humiliating—he wasn’t looking at you at all. He was staring directly past your shoulder, completely mesmerized.
You turned your head.
Framed in the doorway of the chic boutique was a sight that defied human physics. Rangiku Matsumoto was standing there, practically buried beneath a mountain of glossy, neon-colored shopping bags. There had to be at least fifteen of them dangling from her slender arms, overflowing with tissue paper, silk ribbons, and high-end logos from the luxury district down the avenue.
Right beside her—or rather, completely obscured behind the towering wall of paper bags—was a very short, irritated spiritual presence. You couldn't see him through the luggage, but the sheer, icy-cold pressure radiating from the lower hemisphere of the pile told you everything you needed to know. It was Captain Hitsugaya.
"Oh my gosh!"
Rangiku’s eyes locked onto you through the racks of clothing. Before her captain could even utter a word of protest, she spun around and ruthlessly thrust the entire fifteen-bag payload directly into Toshiro’s small arms, burying him alive.
"Hold these, Captain! I found her!" she squealed, her voice a high, joyful sound that shattered the quiet elegance of the boutique.
She sprinted across the polished boutique floor, her strappy wedge sandals clicking loud against the tile. Before you could even brace yourself, she threw her arms around your neck. Your entire world was blacked out, replaced by the cloud-like, and suffocating warmth of her breasts pressing directly into your face.
You were entirely smothered in her cleavage, inhaling the expensive scent of her human-world perfume—sweet jasmine and amber—mixed with the comforting caress of her spirit.
You smiled against the soft fabric of her top, your voice muffled into her chest. "Hi, Rangiku."
"I knew it was you. I could feel your spirit energy from three blocks away!" she cried, finally pulling back just a fraction, though she refused to let you go. Her manicured hands remained planted on your shoulders, her thumbs sliding down to stroke the bare skin near your collarbone with a languid touch.
Up close, Rangiku Matsumoto was a staggering testament to physical beauty. In her human gigai, she had abandoned her standard Soul Reaper uniform for something more fashionable. She was wearing a low-cut coral sundress that clung to the curves of her hourglass figure like a second skin. The neckline plunged, barely managing to corral the abundance of her breasts, exposing a vast expanse of smooth, golden skin that glowed with a healthy, sun-kissed radiance.
Her face was so perfect to you. She possessed sharp, elegant cheekbones and a rounded jawline that gave her an expression of mischievous youth. Her eyes were a piercing sky-blue—heavy-lidded, framed by thick, dark lashes. Her lips were full, painted in a glossy, berry-pink shade that perfectly matched her dress, curling up into a wide, smile that bared her white teeth.
But her crowning glory was her hair. A cascading waterfall of thick, voluminous strawberry-blonde waves tumbled past her shoulders, spilling over her back and framing her face in a wild, beautifully unkempt mane that seemed to catch every single ray of light filtering through the boutique window. A few stray, golden-orange strands clung to the damp skin of her neck, a proof to the heat outside.
You ignored the envious stares of the other shoppers in the store, as well as the muffled, furious grunts of Captain Hitsugaya, who was attempting to balance a designer shoe box on top of his head while trapped beneath her bags.
"What are you doing in this part of town?" you asked, leaning back slightly against the clothing rack, though Rangiku’s arms just slid down to wrap tightly around your waist, pulling your hips closer to hers in a casual display of intimacy.
"Oh, it's wonderful!" Rangiku beamed, her blue eyes crinkling at the corners as she leaned in close, her breath warm against your cheek. She played idly with the strap of your shopping basket, her long, painted nails brushing against your fingers.
"The Head Captain gave us special permission to stay in the World of the Living for an extra two days to monitor some anomalous hollow fluctuations in the sector. But the Captain finished all his boring data-gathering and paperwork early this morning! So, since we had the afternoon free, I told him he had to accompany his lovely lieutenant out for some much-needed summer shopping. And then I sensed you, and I just knew it was destiny."
She squeezed your waist, her ample chest brushing against your arm as she looked down at the top you were holding. "Oh, that is so cute on you. Let me help you find bottoms. We are going to turn you into a total knockout today. Oh, get that too!"
"I’m just getting a few things," you said, offering a small chuckle as you lifted your woven basket. "I'm really trying to watch my spending today."
Rangiku’s sculpted eyebrows knitted together into a frown. She let out a soft, sympathetic sigh, her lower lip pouting out just enough to make her look disappointed. "A budget? I understand, sweetie," she said, leaning in closer until the warmth of her shoulder brushed yours. "I am so glad I live in the Soul Society. Whenever my personal funds run dry, I just find a way to route my little excursions through the squad's administrative expenses. If the Captain doesn't notice the line items, it didn't happen."
You couldn't help but smile, your eyes drifting past her shoulder to focus on the annoyed, burdened man standing by the entrance.
"Hi, Captain Hitsugaya," you called out, raising a hand in greeting.
Toshiro’s small, white-haired head peered out from behind a massive neon-pink luxury shopping bag. His emerald eyes were narrowed into a flat, exhausted glare, but his manners held firm. "Hello," he rumbled back, his voice carrying the exhaustion of a man who had been walking in circles for hours. "Don't let her pull you into her financial delinquency."
Rangiku ignored him, her bright blue eyes lighting up as she reached out, her fingers gently touching the edge of your shoulder. "Your hair! It’s super different from the last time I saw you."
You smiled, touching one of the neat, long braids resting against your collarbone. "Yeah, I have a lot of plans this summer and I really didn’t want to deal with my natural hair out in this humidity. So, I just went ahead and got braids."
"That's is so pretty!" Rangiku beamed, her hand sliding down your arm in a warm gesture of approval. "The length looks amazing on you. It really frames your face."
With a quick pat to your hip, her short attention span caught on something across the store. "Ouu, look at that black top over there. I'll be right back!" She drifted away, leaving you to finish your task. You located the matching shorts in your size and headed straight for the glass-topped checkout counter.
While the cashier was ringing up your items, Toshiro walked up to the counter, his soul pager abruptly buzzing with a sharp, electronic chirp in his pocket. He looked down at the screen, his posture stiffening.
"Matsumoto," Toshiro said, his voice dropping into his strict, commanding register. "Change of plans. We just received new orders from the Soul Society. We need to report to the local coordinate checkpoint immediately."
A loud groan echoed from the clothing racks. Rangiku trudged over, the long black top dangling limply from her hand. "Are you serious, Captain? We just got here! Can't the anomalous fluctuations wait for like... twenty more minutes?"
"No," Toshiro snapped cleanly, adjusting the strap of a heavy designer bag on his shoulder. "We'll come back later. Let's go."
You couldn't help the amused grin that broke across your face. Even though Hitsugaya was technically centuries older than most humans and held one of the most powerful, respected positions in the military hierarchy of the afterlife, the dynamic between them never changed. To anyone else, he looked like a small kid, but standing next to Rangiku, she was unmistakably the chaotic child he was forced to babysit.
As you grabbed your small brown shopping bag from the cashier, you walked over toward Toshiro, extending a hand to relieve him of at least four of the larger bags hanging from his small wrists. "Here, let me help you with some of these."
Toshiro looked up, a faint, genuine flash of relief washing over his stern features. "Thank you," he murmured, exhaling a quiet breath as his shoulders dropped.
"Yeah. Thanks, doll. He could barely hold a few bags. Some captain he is." Rangiku chimed in, sweeping back into the huddle. She snatched the remaining payload from her captain, flashing you one last, smile as she walked toward the automatic glass doors. "Byeee. See you soon!"
-
The digital numbers on the clock glowed a dim green. 9:47pm. You were freshly showered, your skin smelling of your favorite body wash, and you were sitting comfortably in the middle of your bed in your modest apartment. The only real illumination provided by the shifting, colorful glow of the television screen playing a comforting slice-of-life anime. You sat with your legs crossed, picking at a bowl of fresh fruit with a fork. You had been craving dense, fudgy brownies all evening, but a thorough search of your pantry earlier had revealed you were out of box mix, leaving you to settle for the healthier alternative.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
A series of firm thuds rattled against your front door, breaking the stillness of the apartment.
You paused, a piece of melon hovering halfway to your mouth, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion. It was late. Your mind jumped through the alarming possibilities before settling on the most likely culprit. Rangiku. She probably needed a place to crash again to escape Toshiro's strict curfew or simply wanted a change of scenery from the Kurosaki residence.
You set the fruit bowl down on the nightstand, slid off the edge of the mattress, and navigated through the familiar, dark hallways of your apartment.
When you pulled the front door open, the bright, amber glow of the streetlights outside flooded the entryway, framing Rangiku against the night sky. She was leaning against the doorframe, a playful, slightly sheepish grin on her lips.
"Hi," she purred softly.
"Hi, Rangiku," you answered, leaning your shoulder against the door. "What are you doing here this late?"
"I wanted to have a sleepover," she said, her blue eyes instantly dropping down to scan your frame.
The television light from the bedroom cast a faint, angled glow down the hallway, catching the smooth, rich tone of your bare skin. You were wearing a matching pajama set—a lightweight, button-up top and a pair of matching shorts that rode up just enough to expose the full wealth of your thighs. Rangiku’s gaze lingered there for a beat too long, her eyes tracing the soft curve of your legs before traveling back up to meet your eyes.
"Look at you," she murmured, a genuine warmth in her voice. "You look so cute and cozy. Are you gonna let me in?"
"Of course, come on in," you said, stepping back to let her pass. As she walked past you into the cool air conditioning of the condo, you closed the door and slid the deadbolt into place. "Does Captain Hitsugaya need a place to stay tonight too? I can set up the couch."
"Oh, don't worry about him," Rangiku chuckled, waving a dismissive, hand over her shoulder as she walked down the hallway toward your bedroom. "He’s staying over at the Kurosakis' place, doing some boring tactical review with Ichigo. I told him I was leaving... and honestly? I wanted you all to myself."
She stepped into your bedroom, carrying a plastic convenience store bag that rattled with the distinct sound of chips and candy, alongside a much larger, heavy designer tote bag whose contents were obscured in the dim light. She set her things down on the corner of your dresser, her blue eyes taking in the atmosphere of the space. The room was dark, completely tranquil, with the animated characters on the TV screen casting soft blue and purple hues across your sheets.
"Were you about to go to sleep?" she asked, turning her head to look at you over her shoulder, her strawberry-blonde waves shifting over her back.
"Not for a few hours," you replied, walking past her toward your closet. "Let me get you something comfortable to wear."
You opened the closet door, rummaging through your shelves until you pulled out an oversized, soft cotton T-shirt and a pair of loose, stretchy athletic shorts. You walked back over and handed the bundle to her.
"Here, these should fit you well enough to sleep in."
"Thank you," Rangiku murmured, her voice dropping into a lower, softer register that felt intimate in the quiet room.
Without a hint of hesitation or modesty, her hand reached around to the back of her neck, unhooking the hidden clasp of her coral sundress.
You averted your eyes as the fabric slid down her hips, focusing your gaze on the television screen while she changed into the oversized shirt and shorts. The mattress dipped a second later as Rangiku slid under the cool sheets beside you, bringing that immense, comforting wall of warmth with her.
"What are we watching?" she asked, curling her long legs up beneath the blankets. You told her the name of the slice-of-life anime, your voice a little breathy in the quiet room. Leaning back against your pillows, you looked over at her.
"Did you and Captain Hitsugaya actually finish the mission?"
Rangiku let out a dramatic sigh and stretched her arms high above her head, the movement pulling the soft cotton of the shirt tight across her chest. "Yes. Paperwork is done, the spiritual coordinates are logged, and I am officially off the clock," she groaned happily, melting sideways until her shoulder and torso leaned against your side.
She had always been a physical, touchy person, but she possessed such a genuine heart that her constant closeness never made you feel uncomfortable. It made you think of the legendary sleepover the two of you had shared with Orihime a few months back—a night filled with absolute chaos, terrible kitchen experiments, and crying from laughing so hard. The memory kept the atmosphere in the room light, but as you looked down at her, an electric wave of tension rippled through the air. Rangiku had stopped looking at the TV. She was gazing up at you through her thick, dark lashes, her striking blue eyes reflecting the colorful, shifting light of the screen in a way that made your pulse hitch.
-
The lamp on your nightstand was clicked on now, bathing the bedroom in a golden glow that caught the empty snack wrappers piled neatly inside the plastic bag on your dresser. You sat there speechless, your jaw practically unhinged as you stared at what Rangiku was currently holding in her lap. Fished directly from the bottom of her designer tote bag were three very distinct, high-end human pleasure objects: a suction Rose toy, a thick silicone dildo, and a sleek, multi-speed rabbit vibrator.
A spike of embarrassment and sheer shock hit you, a rush of heat flooding your veins, and warming your cheeks. Rangiku, utterly unbothered, was beaming like a kid on Christmas morning.
"Don't look at me like that!" she laughed, her voice a musical, wicked purr as she shook the silicone toy at you. "Remember when we were gossiping at Orihime’s, and you said Ichigo was so oblivious that he wouldn't be laying a finger on her anytime soon, so she should just buy a toy? I looked into it! I am fully aware of all these modern human things now, but..." She shifted closer, her thigh pressing flush against yours as she set the items down on the blanket. Her expression became intensely enthusiastic, her blue eyes glittering. "I really want to try them out with you."
You hesitated, your fingers twisting into the fabric of your shorts, your throat feeling dry. "Umm... so... Rangiku, I don't know..."
Her lower lip instantly popped out into a pout. "Why not? You're my favorite human and you like me too, so it'll be better with you." Then, the playfulness vanished. Her voice dropped into a quieter, serious register that sent a shiver straight down your spine. Her eyes locked onto yours, refusing to break contact for even a fraction of a second. "Besides... I really liked making out with you that one time. And I think doing a lot more of it tonight would be nice. Can we?"
You took a slow, deep breath, taking in the surrealism of the moment. You had gone from eating fruit, snacking, and gossiping about soul society politics to sitting inches away from a beautiful lieutenant offering a pile of erotica. The tension in the room was hot. "Okay," you finally murmured, an assured spark taking over your senses as you leaned slightly over her. "But you're not using them on me. If we're doing this, I'm going to use every one of them on you."
A pleased, triumphant look washed over Rangiku's face, her lips curling into a wicked little grin. "Yes, please," she whispered.
You didn't waste another second. You leaned in and caught her mouth in a slow, deep kiss that fractured into a heavy rush of tongue. Rangiku let out a soft gasp against your lips, her mouth parting to welcome you as you pulled her body flush against yours. One of your hands slid directly under the hem of her oversized shirt, your palm gripping the curve of her hip, while your other hand came up to cradle the side of her jaw, your fingers tangling into the thick waves of her hair. She felt so soft and smooth all over.
The kiss soon degenerated into something sloppy, wet, and fervent. Rangiku pushed herself closer into your space, her tongue sliding deeper into your mouth with an eager, needy hunger that proved she had been thinking about this for a long time. Your hand left her hip, traveling slowly up the warm expanse of her ribs beneath the cotton shirt until your fingers cupped the weight of her bare breast. The supple flesh spilled over your fingers, and a loud, breathless moan tore from the back of Rangiku's throat, her body shuddering against yours. You made out for several minutes, the quiet comedy on the television drowned out by the sound of your tangled breathing and wet, gasping sighs, before you gripped her shoulders and pushed her flat back onto the mattress.
You lean down, pressing your lips back against hers, drinking in the quiet gasp that escapes her mouth. Rangiku’s hands come up to roam over your body, her warm palms tracing the curve of your waist before her fingers dig into the fabric of your pajama top for leverage. You break the kiss, dragging your lips down the smooth line of her jaw to press wet, bites onto the sensitive skin of her neck, right where her pulse jumps. A low hum vibrates deep in her throat as you work your way lower, shifting your weight between her thighs until your hand slides down her torso to find the waistband of the shorts you lent her.
Your thumb presses firm through the grey cotton, finding the exact spot where her arousal is already gathering into a hard, swollen nub. Rangiku’s hips jerk up against your hand, a sharp, involuntary twitch that betrays how ready she is.
You hold her down with the weight of your palm, a small smile brushing against her collarbone as you feel her breath hitch.
"Did you actually finish your work today, Matsumoto, or did you leave the captain stranded and run over here because you wanted to play with toys and sleep with me?"
Her chest rises high as she tries to find her voice in the quiet room. You trace a lazy, grinding circle with your thumb over the fabric, pressing directly into her heat.
"I actually helped this time," she pants, her blue eyes dark with as her fingers grip your shoulders. "I swear I did."
You let out a quiet, knowing hum, letting the disbelief hang in the air as you offer her an elusive smile. With a smooth drag of your hands, you hook your fingers into the elastic waistband of her shorts and pull them down her long legs, tossing them over the edge of the bed to leave her bare. Your eyes rake over her form in the glow of the lamp. Her trimmed pubic hair is a soft patch of strawberry blonde, a flawless match to the thick waves spread out across your pillows. The heat between her thighs is already glistening with a heavy sheen of slick moisture. You use your fingers to gently part her labia, exposing the wet pink flesh.
"Look at that," you murmur, staring at the sight as the fluid pools between her folds. "You're so pretty, Rangiku. Look how wet you are just from a little kissing."
She shifts on the sheets, her inner thighs clamping against your ribs as she tries to hide from your intense gaze. "Stop staring and stop teasing," she whines, her voice thick, eager, and entirely willing.
"Sorry," you whisper, though the amusement stays in your voice and you make no effort to hurry.
Instead of going down right away, you dip your index finger into the pool of her slickness, coating the digit before rubbing it slowly up and down her pussy, spreading her own moisture over her clit until she is slick from top to bottom. You watch her face twist, her lips parting as you toy with her. Only when she begins to roll her hips in a silent beg do you lean down, pressing a firm, lingering kiss to the soft flesh of her inner thigh. You slide your arm beneath her knee, lifting her leg high and locking your fingers into the meat of her thigh to hold her open.
You bring your tongue down to her center, licking upward in one long, deliberate stroke. Her folds spreads wide over your tongue. She tastes nice—a clean, salty tang mixed with the calm, cool essence. You open your mouth wide, gathering her sensitive clit between your lips, and suck.
A loud, ragged moan breaks from her, her back arching clear off the mattress. The sheer sensitivity of her body catches you off guard; for a woman with such a formidable military presence, her flesh responds to the slightest touch. Her long fingers reach down, threading into your long braids, her palm pressing against the back of your head to hold you close to her. You look up through your lashes, taking in the view of her face—her lips parted and swollen, her hair wild across your pillows. She looks breathtaking. You keep eating her out, taking your time with slow, heavy laps simply for your own enjoyment, listening to her shaky breaths echo in the dark space.
Rangiku’s voice gets louder, turning into a string of cries as her hips lift off the sheet, grinding her wet center straight against your mouth in a desperate search for more pressure.
You pull back just out of reach, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. "Which toy do you want first?"
She looks up at you with eyes bright and brimming with adoration, her gaze locked onto yours. "The rabbit," she gasps out.
"Open it," you command softly.
You keep your hand resting on her thigh, your thumb maintaining a steady, firm rub over her wet clit to keep her on the edge while her fumbling fingers strip the plastic packaging away. A dark rose flush steals across her pale cheeks, her gaze fixed on yours the entire time. Once the toy is free, you take it from her grip, clicking the power button until the motor wakes with a low, soft hum—the lowest setting. You bring the vibrating tip down, pressing it right onto her wet clit.
Her spine arches, her entire frame jolting against the mattress. A surprised laugh leaves your chest as her features twist with the sudden shock of the pleasure, her eyes rolling back. Down between her thighs, her tight opening is overflowing, leaking a steady stream of slick fluid that glistens against her skin as the rabbit works. Smiling, you slide two fingers deep into her slick heat, curling them upward to hook against her g-spot.
Rangiku shrieked against the pillows, her hips jerking wild as her internal muscles locked around your fingers like a vice.
"You're so tight, Rangiku," you murmur, leaning down so your breath hits her ear. "Relax for me. Don't cum yet. We’re going to take our time."
"Please," she whimpers, her hands dragging up to grip your forearms. "It's too much with the buzzing, just let me do it to you."
"No," you tell her, not letting her back out just to turn around and toy with you. "You said you wanted to try it, right?"
You hold her hips still with one hand, your fingers inside her slowing down into a torturous, deep 'come here' motion, stretching her walls while the vibrator keeps up its steady rumble against her clit. You talk her through every single sensation, keeping her balanced right on the brink of ruin. "You're so loud, Rangiku. Wet too. Feel how my fingers are stretching you out. Look down at my hand. Look at how easy it is. You can take it."
She lets out a broken whine, her head tossing from side to side as she forces herself to look down at where your hands join her flesh. Her pink folds are swollen, gripping your fingers tight. "I see it... god, it feels so good. Your fingers are s-so deep—ahhn-ghnm. The vibrator's—O-oh... let me cum, please, I can't hold it."
"You can hold it," you whisper back, your thumb pressing the vibrator a little harder against her while your fingers execute a sharp, cruel flick inside her. "You're doing so good, baby. Just a few more seconds. You can do that for me, yeah"?
"Yesss," She draws, making needy little noises in the back of her throat as she tries to follow your instructions, her internal walls pulsing and clamping around your hand in an effort to control the mounting pressure. You keep her there for several minutes, manual exploration combining with the steady buzz until her skin is hot to the touch and her breathing is a ragged mess of half-formed words.
Only when you feel her entire body go rigid with tension do you decide she's had enough. You reach down and click the button, kicking the vibrations up a notch, matching the rapid pulse with a fast, ruthless plunge of your fingers.
"Good girl. Now cum for me, Rangiku," you coax her, your voice a proud murmur against her skin.
With one violent heave of her hips, she breaks. Her internal walls clamp down around your fingers in a hard, crushing orgasm, her fluid soaking your hand as a loud, frantic string of cries tears from her throat. You don't stop moving. You keep your fingers pumping deep inside the tight squeeze of her climax, the rabbit maintaining its steady buzz against her clit while she rides out the aftershocks. Only when the pulsing slowly subsides do you slide your hand free, lifting your glistening fingers to your mouth to suck them clean right before her unraveled eyes.
Rangiku's thighs tremble, small tremors writhing through her legs. "Oh god," she breathes, her hand flying down to weakly grip your wrist to pull the toy away.
Instead of letting her find relief, you reach down and click the switch, ramping the vibrator up to its highest, most aggressive speed against her raw nerves. The harsh, loud buzz fills the quiet bedroom. Her grip on your wrist tightens into a panicked squeeze as the heavy vibration hits her overstimulated flesh.
"Do you want me to stop, Rangiku?"
She can't form a real response. She lets out a fractured whine, her body squirming in a vain effort to escape the intense, stimulation of the machine, yet her hips still tilt instinctively toward the touch. You cup her jaw in your hand, tilting her head up to press a firm kiss to her wet lips. She instantly tries to deepen the touch, her tongue searching for yours in a gamble for comfort, but you pull back just out of reach, a smile breaking on your face at the deep, pouty look that forms on her full lips.
"You need to talk to me," you murmur against her skin. "Tell me what you want."
Her blue eyes are dark, glassy, and completely unraveled by the pleasure. "Slower..." she gasps out, her voice a faint whisper as she pleads with you. "Please, drop it down."
You click the button, dropping the device back down to its lowest, gentlest hum. You lean down and lick her up with soothing, wet drags to cool the raw heat of her skin, before turning the power off and tossing the toy onto the sheets.
-
Rangiku rests her full weight in your lap, her bare back pressed flush against your chest as her frame trembles from the heat of the bedroom. The air is thick, holding the heavy scent of her jasmine perfume and the musk of her arousal. She keeps her legs draped over yours, her thighs spread wide to expose her slick center. With one hand, she clamps the Rose toy flat against her swollen clit, the soft silicone mouth pulsing with tight waves of air pressure. Your hand is wrapped firm around the base of the dildo, sliding the thick shaft deep into her wet channel in a slow, unwavering rhythm.
Both of your eyes are fixed on the view between her legs. You watch her drenched pussy stretch open, greedily swallowing the silicone before letting it slide out, only for you to plunge it right back in. Her cream is thick and off-white, bubbling around the base of the toy from the friction.
Your free hand slides up her ribcage, your fingers spreading wide over the wealth of her breast before you trap her hard nipple between your fingers, giving it a firm tug. Rangiku lets out a high whine, her head rolling back against your shoulder. Her appetite hasn't slowed down, even after three shattering orgasms.
"Look at how open you are for me," you murmur against her ear, your voice low and rough. "You're dripping all over my thighs, just taking every inch. Tell me how it feels inside you."
Rangiku shifts her weight, her hips attempting to grind back against your pelvis in a brief show of defiance. She tries to force a faster pace, eager to hunt her own release against your rhythm. "Feels r-really good," she pants, her voice a gravelly, ragged mess. "You're doing this on purpose. Pushing it in so deep and slow… until I can't even breathe. Go faster."
You tighten your grip on her hip, pinning her pelvis flat to prevent her from taking control of the stride. "Shh. No dictating the pace, Matsumoto," you murmur, your voice calm but absolute. "You're too demanding."
She lets out a frustrated huff but keeps her eyes glued to the slick junction of your bodies, watching the dildo slide home. You guide her through the overwhelming sensation, your thumb smoothing over her hip bone. "Hold the toy still, Rangiku. You keep begging for speed, but you can't even handle what you're already being given. You get a bit dumb after cumming so many times, hmm? It's okay, baby."
"You're mean," she whimpers, though her internal walls clamp down on the silicone shaft in a tight, desperate squeeze that completely betrays her words. Her chest heaves as she tries to follow your command, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "The Rose is buzzing too fast... I can't stay still for you."
"You can," you tell her, leaning forward to press a warm kiss to the side of her neck, right where her pulse thumps hard against your lips. "Be a good girl and stay still for me. It's better when it builds up."
The fluid strings between your flesh with every retreat, leaving a messy trail across your lap. The silence of the room is long gone, replaced by the sound of skin striking silicone and the steady hum of the toy. The cotton sheets beneath you are thoroughly ruined, soaked through with sweat and her previous releases.
Rangiku tilts her head back, her mouth open as she gasps for air. You lean across her jaw and catch her lips in a sloppy, deep kiss. Her tongue tangles with yours in a slick, wet slide that matches the motion of your hand below. She moans into your mouth, the sound growing louder, turning into a desperate vibration as her inner thighs begin to shake uncontrollably. Her internal muscles lock around the toy like a vice, tightening so hard your knuckles ache from holding the base.
"I'm gonna cum," she gasps into the kiss, her toes curling. "I'm going to squirt all over you, honeyy—"
Suddenly, a heavy, hot gush of fluid erupts from her. She squirts hard, the sheer pressure of the release trying to push the dildo straight out of her body. You don't let her escape the fullness. You lock your wrist, forcing the thick shaft forward, plunging deep into her core and fucking her right through the peak of her release. Rangiku screams into the kiss, her eyes rolling back as she curses through her teeth, her fingers digging deep into your thigh as she cries your name over and over into the dark room.
You gradually slow down, letting the dildo slide out with a soft, wet sound. You lean forward, pressing a tender kiss to her damp forehead. Her long waves are a wild, matted tangle around her face, and she looks undone, her blue eyes glassy and unfocused as she catches her breath.
"Flip over onto your stomach," you murmur, your fingers trailing down her stomach.
She blinks, looking a bit dazed by the sheer exhaustion of her climax, but she takes a breath and rolls over onto her chest, burying her face into the cover while keeping her ass tilted up toward you.
She lets out a muffled, breathless chuckle into the fabric. "This position is kind of embarrassing, you know. I'm a lieutenant, I should be aloud some dignity."
You get up on your knees behind her, your eyes raking over the gorgeous curve of her backside. "You'll like it like this."
A shiver ripples through her shoulders, her hips giving a small, eager wiggle of anticipation as you run the flat of your thumb over her drenched folds from behind. A wave of pure satisfaction washes over you, your own arousal spiking purely from the sight of her. You decide you're going to eat her pussy from behind until she's begging again, then you'll drive the dildo back into her, spending the rest of the night exploring where else that vibrator can make her scream.
Anselm Vogelweide x blackfem!reader
In which your husband's habits, puts you in an unthinkable position...
Now playing: "A girl like you." By Edwyn Collins.
Bad Movie: The big gold brick.
warnings: This might be a dark romance ( the "If you look at or touch her and you die.") Kind, Not the weird kind, Smut, Kidnapping, Kinks??, gambling problems, Lies, death, stalking, murder, family problems, caring but fed up reader, Love triangle???, The Reader's a freaky frog (not derogatory.) and has a past, Anselm is a "bit" perverted for you, slight obsession (both sides), and more!
The reader is described to be black with a curvy/Chubby body type but anyone can read!
