part 1 | part 2 (but can be read as a stand alone)
he wasn’t supposed to find it.
one bored scroll through your phone and suddenly geto was staring at your endless stack of bookmarked twitter porn—eyes wide, heat creeping up his neck.
when he asks to recreate it outright?
you nearly explode.
geto pulls you in so fast you forget you didn’t mark the page of the book in front of you, his lips already on yours. he’s so smooth with it—one hand gripping your waist, the other gently setting the novel on the nightstand without breaking the kiss.
your head spins so fast you almost miss the way his hands settle on your waist, warm and steady. his mouth moves against yours with a quiet kind of urgency, like he’s been waiting for you to crack open just like this.
you clutch at his shirt, trying to pull back even as your body leans into him. the heat in your face is unbearable and you’re pretty sure you’re actually shaking.
he feels it. of course he does. and he only holds you tighter.
geto knows your body language too well. you want something as much as him yet you’re too shy to ask.
the thought goes straight to his stomach.
you break the kiss with a tiny, broken sound you didn’t mean to make. it slips out before you can stop it, and you freeze immediately.
his lips brush your cheek as he breathes out a laugh—a rare one that sounds…fond.
“so cute.”
the words make you want to bury yourself under your blankets.
“d–don’t…”
he kisses the corner of your mouth once, slow, like he’s trying to coax the rest of your sentence out. “don’t what?”
“…say it like that,” you whine softly. “it’s embarrassing.”
his nose nudges yours, breath warm and steady while yours is uneven and shaky. “you’re the one whose secretly a freak,” he grins, “not me.”
mortification drowns you.
your phone is still playing porn in the background, muffled but unmistakable. the sound hits you too late—another layer of humiliation stacking on your chest until you can barely breathe.
you squeeze your eyes shut. “suguru—please— you- it’s too—”
“too what?”
he’s not even pretending he doesn’t know what you mean. his voice is steady, smooth, like he’s discussing something casual and not the absolute meltdown happening in your chest.
you shake your head, face burning. “this is so embarrassing—”
his thumb brushes the corner of your mouth, slow and deliberate. “mm. you keep saying that.” his tone is maddeningly gentle and that calm, low warmth that makes everything worse.
you flinch when his lips skim your jaw again, barely a brush—like he’s testing how sensitive you are. how easy you unravel.
then, in that soft voice that makes your stomach flip,
“...so that’s what you like, huh?”
he says it like he’s asking about a movie.
your face burns. “i—i don’t— it’s just— sometimes—”
his hand slides up your waist, fingers squeezing just a little, like he can’t help himself. like your embarrassment is doing something to him he’s trying very, very hard not to show.
“sometimes what?” his lips ghost your ear. “sometimes you get worked up? you touch yourself watching porn?”
a tiny humiliating sound slips out.
his breath stutters. almost nothing. but you’re close enough to feel it. now you know he’s trying to stay calm and only pretending he’s unaffected.
your phone keeps playing—soft moans—only making everything hotter and more unbearable.
his voice drops, rough at the edges.
“did you think about me when you watched it?”
your whole body seizes. “s-suguru—!”
“tell me.”
when you hesitate, he cups your jaw, thumb stroking your cheek like he’s soothing you through your own embarrassment.
“did you?” he asks again. quieter. needier.
a beat passes before the answer falls from your lips. “i- i mean…yeah…”
the second it leaves your mouth, you wish you could shove it back in. hide. melt. die.
but suguru goes still.
then he exhales—shaky. no call left.
“good.”
before you can react, your back hits the pillows. he follows, caging you in. his hair falls around your face, his breath trembling against your cheek.
“god—” he mutters, like he didn’t mean for it to slip out.
your eyes go wide. “suguru?”
he doesn’t answer.
he just looks at you—really looks—like he’s trying to make sense of the fact that you’re here beneath him, realizing you just admitted thinking about him while touching yourself.
his exhale is low, a shaky sound that lands straight in your stomach.
“you said it,” he murmurs. “you actually said it.”
his hand drags up your thigh, slow and deliberate. you try to hide your face, but he catches your wrists, pinning them gently beside your head.
“no hiding,” he breathes. “not after that.”
his mouth drags along your jaw, slow, almost tender. it’s so at odds with the way his breathing is rough against your skin. his hands slip from your wrists, but only so they can trail down, gliding over your sides, your waist, then lower…
his fingers hook into the hem of your pants.
“don’t look away while i take these off.”
“w–wait—”
“no.” calm voice, frayed edges. “you’ve been hiding from me. hiding how bad you get. hiding what you watch.”
he tugs—not rough, not yet, just impatient.
“you don’t get to hide now.”
your thighs clamp together on instinct, and his eyes drop immediately, darkening.
“be a good girl and let me see,” he murmurs.
when you shake your head embarrassed, he adds urgently, “let me see you. please.”
your thighs part—barely. but it’s enough.
his breath stutters, forehead dipping to yours. “good girl…” it breaks in his throat. “now lift your hips.”
your body reacts before your mind does. that’s all he needs.
he pulls your bottoms down in one smooth, desperate motion.
“fuck—” the word rips out of him.
you scramble to tug your shirt lower, to cover yourself, but he catches your wrist mid movement, grip tight enough that you feel the tremble in his fingers.
“i told you not to hide,” he mutters.
the urgency in his voice hits straight through you—hot and dizzying.
your thighs snap together again, but his warm hands slip between them, pressing the inside of your knees until they fall open.
and then he sees.
your cotton panties, clinging and nearly translucent with how wet you are, the damp patch spread wide, and the outline of everything beneath it.
suguru goes perfectly still. wrecked if he wasn’t already.
“oh…” he breathes, voice dropping, thinning, like the sight knocks the air out of him.
you try to snap your legs shut again, panic spiking, but he catches your thighs—fingers digging in just enough to stop you—and he shakes his head once, slow, almost disbelieving.
“no,” he whispers, eyes locked on the soaked fabric like he can’t look anywhere else.
your face burns and you whine. “suguru stop staring—”
he exhales sharply, the sound strained, like he’s fighting the urge to just tear the last layer off.
“sweetheart…” his voice cracks on the endearment. “you’re soaked.”
your hips jolt at the word, and he notices instantly. his breath stutters, eyes darkening further.
“is this from just kissing?”
his fingers trace the edge of the wet patch, not touching where you’re desperate, but close—so close it feels cruel.
“or from me finding your porn?”
“sh-shut up…” you answer uselessly.
“no,” he murmurs, leaning in closer, the heat of him covering you. “i’m asking.”
his thumb presses against the soaked cotton—barely any pressure, but enough to make your back arch off the bed.
your breath leaves you in a broken gasp, spine arching before you can stop it, the tiny press of his thumb sending a shock all the way through your stomach.
he feels it.
god, he feels it—your whole body jolting under him—and something raw flickers across his face.
“you’re really this sensitive, hm?”
you squeeze your eyes shut, humiliated, overwhelmed. “s-stop—don’t talk like—”
he presses again. right where your clit is. it’s enough to make your breath catch on a sob.
“like what?” he asks quietly, but it’s not calm anymore. it’s tight. desperate. “like i’m realizing how bad you want this?”
“suguru—”
“like i know you didn’t get this wet just from kissing?”
your hips—traitorous things—jerk, under his palm.
you want to deny it. you really do. but your body isn’t cooperating. at all. his eyes flick down, zeroing in on the soaked cotton stretched over your cunt.
“yeah,” he breathes, shaky, “that’s what i thought.”
then he sits back on his heels a little, enough to look at all of you properly.
“that video…” he starts, and his voice cracks on the edge, barely audible over the porn still playing. “tell me what you liked so much about it.”
“w-what?! no—”
“you can,” he insists, leaning in until your noses almost touch. “because i’m going to do it. all of it. but before i do i wanna know which part got you like this.”
his thumb presses into your clit and you gasp so hard he shuts his eyes and huffs for a second, like the sound punched him in the gut.
“fuck— was it when he…” his eyes drop again, breath hitching, “…grinded over her cute lil panties?”
you flinch visibly.
he swallows.
“hmm…” his other hand slides under your knee, pushing it out slightly, opening you more. “or was it when he kept teasing her until she was begging?”
your entire face lights on fire. “suguru—”
he grins slowly. “huh. i guess both.”
one hand goes to your hip. the other to your thigh. and then he slots his body between your legs, hot and heavy, lowering himself until the thick, rigid outline in his sweats presses against your soaked panties.
you choke out a sound you’ve never made before.
his jaw clenches.
suddenly, he pushes himself off you and onto the floor, standing only long enough to shove both his sweats and briefs down in one rough motion—impatient, too wound up to pretend not to be.
he’s painfully hard.
the sight of his flush cock finally freed makes your stomach twist, heat rushing between your legs so fast it’s embarrassing. you’ll never get used to how pretty he is.
you barely have time to gasp before his warm hands are on you—one at your waist, one under your knee—dragging you down the mattress until your hips meet the edge of the bed.
exactly like in the video.
“suguru—” you let out helplessly, legs falling open.
that’s when the porn still playing behind you lets out a sharp, slick sound.
his jaw tics again.
he reaches back, grabs your phone without looking, and shuts it off with a single click.
the silence that follows is too loud.
he throws your phone somewhere behind you on the bed and settles between your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist, the heat of him crowding into your space—until his cock brushes your soaked panties.
“only wanna hear you.”
you whimper.
he drags his tip along your mound—slow, thick pressure.
the head of him drags over your clit through the drenched cotton, and it’s exactly like the video…only worse. because this is him, this is real.
your panties are so drenched the fabric gives under the pressure, molding to his shape. every ridge, every vein, every careful shift of his hips is there—unmistakable even through the cotton.
your fingers clutch at his shoulders, knuckles white.
he feels that.
he likes that you can’t even pretend to stay composed.
his breath stirs over your cheek as he drags himself down the length of your cunt again—a long, deliberate stroke that pushes wet heat up the center of your panties, leaving a thin string of slick stretching when he rocks back.
you choke on a whimper.
he rolls his hips forward again, a little harder this time—enough that the fat tip of him, leaking with precum, nudges the exact spot that had the girl in the video shaking.
your back arches so sharply the pillows rustle behind you.
“mmh…there you go. lemme hear you.”
suguru pulls back only a few centimeters and drags forward again, a slow, grinding pressure right over your swollen clit, the soaked cotton squishing faintly between you.
your thighs quiver around his hips.
the worst part? he keeps the rhythm maddeningly even, like he’s timing each stroke to unravel you.
your panties cling to you, twisted crooked from how soaked they are. each grind pushes the fabric tighter between your folds, forcing slick to spill out around the edges and onto wheres he’s gripping your thighs open.
when the thick head of his cock catches on your entrance through the cotton, you make a strangled, broken sound.
you feel the drag, the pressure—how close he could be to slipping inside if it weren’t for the fabric in between.
he hears it.
he feels your legs jolt.
“look at you, baby…” he coos, “didn’t even need to use lube to get you this wet, huh? like in the video?”
that breaks you.
your mouth falls open in a moan you can’t manage to hold back.
“fuck— su-suguru!”
he grinds again, slower this time—circling his hips just enough to rub the heavy underside of his cock right over your clit again through the ruined fabric.
your whole body jolts.
then suguru’s stretching the fabric of your panties for a second before snapping them wetly against your cunt. he lowers more of his weight, breath unsteady against your mouth.
his hips roll again, a little sharper and a little less patient.
the head of him drags right over your entrance through the cotton, the pressure obscene, intimate, impossible to bear.
you suck in a breath, trembling violently, nails digging into his back.
he swallows hard and you watch the movement in his throat.
“mmh. yes. that’s it,” he murmurs, voice dropping, breath warm against your lips. “show me how bad you need it.”
he pulls back just enough for you to feel the loss…
then pushes forward again with a slow, grinding thrust, using his thumb on his cock to press himself against you so deeply that it drags the drenched cotton higher between your folds, baring more and more of you to him.
your panties barely cover anything now.
you’re practically riding the head of his cock through a soaked, twisted string of fabric without realizing it, completely gone.
and he knows it.
he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.
his hips start moving faster—controlled, deliberate—but you feel the strain in the way his forehead drops to yours, his breath shaking across your lips. he wanted to stay composed. he wanted to tease you.
but now look at him.
“sweetheart…” his voice cracks, low and ragged. “you’re— fuck— soaking me through. i bet i could just fuck you now, huh? slip inside easy? you’re so damn wet.”
you whimper, barely managing, coherent thought gone replaced with him him him.
“please—”
the sound hits him so hard he goes still for a second, jaw flexing like he has to restrain himself.
“oh? you’re begging?”
before you can answer, he pulls your panties aside—finally slipping under them—his cockhead nudging directly against your bare, swollen entrance.
your breath stutters violently.
“oh— oh my god—”
his smirk is slow, hungry, unbearably confident. “i’m flattered, baby.”
your head falls back, face hot, “sh-shut up—!”
he drags forward again, the bare heat of him sliding right against you now under your panties—no barrier—just the thick, smooth pressure of him gliding along your cunt, parting you without even entering, smearing your folds with his precum.
you choke on a moan.
he closes his hand around your thigh, pulling you wider, guiding you exactly where he wants you.
“keep making those noises for me,” he whispers, lips brushing your cheek. “go on, sweetheart. let me hear you.”
the thin cotton of your panties stretches over the both of you, pulled tight and messy, clinging over his cock as he grinds under them with steady precision—it’s exactly like the porn video you know by heart.
and god.
it’s so much hotter than you imagined.
“shit…” he breathes, barely audible, his composure folding at the edges. “you’re dripping for me.”
your nails claw at his shoulders. “suguru— i c-can’t—”
“yeah, you can.”
his hand slides under your knee, lifting your leg higher so he can grind deeper, slower—letting the thick underside of his cock drag along your clit, then down, then up again in a sickeningly perfect stroke that has your stomach dropping.
your moan stutters out of you, high and unrestrained.
he exhales sharply—almost a curse, almost a groan—before catching your jaw gently, forcing your eyes to his.
“look at me,” he murmurs, teasingly soft. “don’t get shy now.”
you try. you fail. your eyelids flutter shut when his tip slips just a little too low, nudging your entrance again, catching…
he catches your chin.
“c’mon. eyes on me, sweetheart.”
you wrench them open.
the second you do, he rewards you with a slow, devastating roll of his hips that drags the head of him through your slick again.
he drags himself up through your slick again—slow enough to burn—pulling your panties with him so the soaked cotton presses tight around the thick base of his cock under the fabric.
the pressure, the heat, the bare glide of him under that flimsy, twisted strip of cotton? it makes you tremble everywhere.
“s-suguru— please—”
his jaw flexes again, breath shivering out like he’s barely holding back.
his cock drags up, catching your clit perfectly.
then suddenly he’s gone, pulling back from beneath your panties, the loss so abrupt it punches a whine out of you.
your hips lift helplessly, searching for him.
he catches them easily with both hands.
“easy,” he murmurs, voice rough with restraint. “i’m not going anywhere.”
you’re still trying to chase the friction when his fingers hook into your soaked panties. not pulling them off. just pulling the drenched cotton aside with a finger.
your breath stops.
the cool air hits your swollen folds for just a second before the bare heat of him is there, sliding in, his cockhead nudging through the new opening he’s made.
your voice cracks instantly.
“o-oh— god—”
he exhales through his nose, sharp and uneven, watching himself settle right against your dripping entrance.
“mm,” he hums, almost a groan. “there you are.”
he drags up once, slow, the glide so slick and obscene it leaves you trembling.
but he doesn’t push in.
he doesn’t even try.
he just grinds barely—the thick head of him catching on your entrance, circling it, nudging, teasing, retreating—repeating the exact unbearable rhythm you watched in that video.
your back arches, thighs shaking.
“ugh— please—i’m—”
“i know,” he cuts in, gentle yet cruel.
his thumb presses to the inside of your thigh, keeping you open, steadying you while he drags himself down again, slow enough that your slick clings in a thin, shining thread.
it snaps when he pulls back.
you whimper.
he inhales sharply—like the sound hits him too hard—before leaning over you, lips brushing your cheek as he whispers, “this is how they did it, right?”
another slow grind up, bare heat tracing your clit, slipping lower.
“just like this?”
he stops at your entrance, pressing there…but not entering.
just enough pressure to make you think he will.
you writhe.
a soft chuckle ghosts your ear.
“mm. that’s exactly why i’m not fucking you yet.”
your fingers clutch his shoulders, desperate. he draws the head of his cock back an inch then pushes forward again, directly against your dripping entrance, sliding over it, circling the tiniest bit, letting the blunt head tease the spot that had the girl in the video sighing.
you choke on a moan so high it embarrasses you.
his voice drops to a whisper so low it almost shakes.
“keep begging.”
another slow drag.
another near slip.
another denial.
“i’m gonna tease you worse than he teased her.”
“no!” you whine, so raw and genuine that he grins.
his cockhead circles your entrance again—slow, deliberate—the same exact pattern the man in the video used. your breath stutters, hips jerking up helplessly, and he catches it.
of course he does.
he lets out a low, breathless laugh against your cheek.
“yeah…that’s it.”
another lazy grind, catching your clit perfectly before dragging down over your entrance again.
“that’s why you saved that video, huh?”
you tense, fingers gripping his shoulders, “sugu—”
he shushes you softly, teasingly, nose brushing your temple.
“you like being teased,” he murmurs, voice dipping warm and deep. “you like being made to wait.”
your whole body goes hot.
“n-no! th-that’s not—!” your words come out embarrassingly high pitched and you shut your self up. or maybe he does it for you as his cock nudges your entrance again.
so close yet so far, making you clench around nothing.
he hums mockingly, “you bookmarked seven minutes of a girl getting edged through her panties. and that was your favorite. the only video you liked. don’t tell me it was an accident.”
you whine, the sound high and desperate.
he smiles—slow, hungry, knowing.
“you wanted me to find it,” he adds, breath fanning your lips.“you wanted me to tease you just like this.”
another grind, deeper this time—your entrance opening around the pressure.
“you love it.”
the admission falls from your mouth before you can stop it.
“fuck— y-yes—”
your thighs clamp around him automatically.
his smile sharpens the second your thighs clamp around him, like he’s been waiting for that exact reaction.
“yeah,” he breathes, voice dipping low, pleased. “i know.”
he grins.
his cock nudges you again, slow and intentional, the fat head sliding just barely between your folds—close enough to feel him, not close enough to satisfy, the way he knows drives you insane.
you jerk, hips trying to chase it, but he holds you down with a palm splayed over your stomach.
“easy,” he murmurs, tone dipping into something darker. “look at you. trying to ride it already.”
your mouth falls open at his words, heat pooling deeper in your core, another gush of arousal escaping you.
he pries your legs open again, not giving you any room to hide.
the way he pulls your panties to the side bares the swollen, slick edges of your entrance while he traps his cockhead right against you.
he looks down for one second and curses under his breath.
“…fuck.”
it’s almost silent, like he didn’t mean to say it out loud.
then he’s grinding again, slow, dragging pressure that pushes right over your clit before sliding down and catching your entrance again, your slick coating the underside of him in sticky, shining strings.
“you want it slow,” he whispers, sounding almost wrecked.
“you want it drawn out—”
his cock catches on your entrance again, not pushing in, just stroking over it…
“right here—”
another drag.
“over and over—”
your nails dig into his back, helpless. back arching,
toes curling, all you can do is beg. “p-please— suguru—“
he laughs softly. but it’s strained, shaky, like teasing you is unraveling him too.
“there it is,” he whispers. “but maybe i can’t do that.”
his cock twitches—an involuntary, hungry pulse—and your whole body jumps.
that finally breaks him.
his hips roll forward, slow but deliberate, and your entrance parts around him, the thick head pushing in just a breath—just enough to stretch you, just enough to make your vision blur.
your mouth falls open in a soundless cry.
his breath hits your neck, hot and uneven. “there you go… letting me in…”
another push—not deep, not even fully breaching you, just easing in and out of the tight, slick ring of your entrance, pushing a little farther each time, coating himself in more of your wetness.
“shit,” he groans, forehead dropping to your shoulder. “you’re… ugh—clenching so hard.”
your hands slide to his shoulders, shaking. “fuck!”
he lifts his head just enough to look at you, eyes dark, blown wide, the kind of desperate composure that’s somehow worse than raw need.
“you want more?” he breathes.
his cock rocks forward, sinking another inch into you—slow, stretching, obscene.
you choke out a moan, legs tightening around his waist.
he smiles, small and sharp and absolutely undone.
“open up for me,” he murmurs, voice low, deep, wrecked as he pushes in another inch, “take it.”
he pushes in slow further, unhurried, no stopping. only his thick cock spreading you open inch by inch while your breath stutters helplessly against his mouth.
your nails claw at his shoulders, not to push him away—just because your body can’t handle the feeling without holding onto something.
“oh—oh my god—” the words fall out before you can think, your voice shaking.
he groans at the sound—quiet, strained, almost like you’re knocking the air out of him.
“yeah…that’s it, baby.” he murmurs, eyes fixed on where your bodies meet. “take it. just take it.”
you’re already trembling, your walls fluttering around him, squeezing, trying to adjust but failing because he keeps pressing deeper.
your mind blanks in flashes—each one hitting harder as he sinks another inch inside you.
your legs twitch around his hips, thighs trembling uncontrollably.
“tight—” he bites off a curse, jaw clenched. “you’re so fucking tight around me.”
another push.
your back arches off the bed—sharp, instinctive—your mouth falling open in a sound that doesn’t even resemble a word.
he braces one hand under your thigh, pushing your knee higher, opening you more, letting himself slide in deeper still.
you feel every ridge, every vein, every impossible inch.
your thoughts scatter—thin, useless things that melt away the moment the next wave of pressure hits.
“suguru—” it comes out broken, breathless, like the syllables barely hold together.
he leans in, lips at your cheek, breathing ragged.
“going dumb already?” he whispers, voice low and full of heat. “and i’m not even all the way in.”
you shiver hard, walls clenching around him so tightly he groans into your skin.
and he keeps going.
inch by inch.
relentless.
your head falls back into the pillows, eyes unfocused, lips parted around soft, helpless gasps. you feel too full, stretched to the point of delirium, pleasure burning through your nerves until thought itself slips away.
he watches you lose yourself on him, pupils blown wide, mouth slightly curved.
“mm… there she is…” he whispers, voice deep and satisfied. “my pretty girl—can’t even think straight, can you?”
your only answer is another shaking moan as he finally sinks the last inch inside you, filling you completely.
your mind goes white.
the moment he bottoms out, your whole body seizes around him—tight, fluttering, overwhelmed.
his breath punches out of him in a low, broken growl against your neck.
“fuck—”
he wasn’t ready for how hard you’d clamp down.
you weren’t ready for how full you’d feel.
your legs twitch around his hips, trembling, flexing without control. he feels every little squeeze.
and god—he reacts.
his hand slides up your thigh, slow, firmer than before, thumb brushing the edge of where you’re stretched around him. he doesn’t move his hips yet—just stays buried inside you, letting the intensity burn both of you alive.
“you feel that?” he whispers against your jaw, voice rougher now—wrecked and trying so hard to hide it. his hands slide up to your tummy where it bulges. “feel how deep i am?”
you can barely breathe, let alone answer. all that comes out is a soft, broken “mmh—”
his lips curve into a slow, heated smile against your cheek.
“look at you. can’t even talk.”
your walls flutter hard at that, squeezing him again. his breath stutters—really stutters—and his hips twitch, the smallest involuntary jerk deep inside you.
it makes you gasp, loud and high.
“shit—” he mutters, grip tightening on your thigh. “you drive me insane.”
your eyes flutter, unfocused, lashes wet with how overwhelmed you are. he watches every tiny reaction—drinks it in like he’s starving.
then he pulls back.
not all the way—just a few inches.
just enough for you to feel the stretch shift, for the thickness of him to slide drag against your walls, and your mouth falls open in a sound that’s half whine, half moan.
his jaw clenches hard.
“yeah… i want that,” he breathes. “give me more of those sounds.”
he pushes forward again, slow and heavy, and your back arches without you telling it to—your body meeting him like you’re begging even if your voice can’t form the words.
he sets a rhythm—not fast, not rough.
deep.
deliberate.
each slow thrust makes your breath snag, makes your thighs shake around him, makes your fingers dig into his back like you’re trying not to fall apart.
you can’t think.
you can’t speak.
you can’t do anything except take it.
“that’s it…” he murmurs, forehead pressing to yours, breath warm and shaky. “go dumb for me.”
your lips tremble around another moan.
he moves again—another slow, dragging thrust that makes your vision blur.
“mmh—s-sugu—” you manage, barely.
he laughs softly, breathless, kissing the corner of your open mouth.
“yeah, sweetheart,” he whispers against your lips, voice low and ruined. “let me fuck the thoughts right out of my smart girl.”
“y-you’re—” your voice breaks as he thrusts in again, slow enough to make you feel every inch, “you’re s-saying— ngh—”
you can’t even finish the sentence.
he smiles against your cheek—a slow, wicked thing—but his breath is unsteady, warm, desperate.
“what?” he teases, rolling his hips deeper, forcing another shaky gasp out of you. “too much for that pretty brain? where did she go?”
you shake your head, but it’s useless—you’re trembling, panting, already melting around him.
he kisses the corner of your open mouth again, lips lingering as he thrusts—slow and deep—building pressure that coils tight and unbearable low in your belly.
“don’t hide,” he whispers. “don’t even think.”
another thrust, perfectly angled, rubbing every sensitive spot inside you as your breath catches.
“just feel me,” he murmurs, voice cracking with restraint. “feel how good you’re taking me—” your back arches helplessly.
your moan is so high, so helpless, so wrecked you slap a hand over your mouth.
he immediately takes it away—fingers curling around your wrist, pinning your hand above your head on the pillow.
“no,” he breathes, eyes dark, pupils blown. “don’t you dare hide those sounds from me.”
he pulls back just enough to thrust harder, faster, hips rolling with a deliberate, punishing rhythm.
your walls clamp and release around him, slick coating him more and more with every stroke.
“fuck—” he groans, voice low and rough, nipping at your jaw. “she’s so fucking wet for me.”
his hand drifts lower, thumb brushing over your clit in lazy, deliberate circles while he drives into you, the sensation making your breath hitch violently.
your hips lift on instinct, desperate, trying to chase both sensations at once, and he matches every movement, teasing, grinding, driving you higher and higher.
“pretty girl. ugh— shit.”
you clench around him and his thrusts become sharper. you choke out a sound, lost in the heat and pressure, body quivering, mind completely dumb.
“ahh—fuck! oh god—” your voice shatters into helpless gasps.
he groans against your skin, losing a little of that composed edge, utterly wrecked by how perfectly you’re taking him.
“that’s it…” he whispers, voice low, desperate, teasing, “let go for me, baby. let me ruin you.”
he hitches one hand to your hip, the other still pressing over your clit, rolling his thumb in tight, maddening circles while his hips slam into you, hard and relentless.
your body jolts with every thrust, walls clamping around him, pulling him deeper, lost in heat and friction.
“ah—!” your voice shatters, high and desperate, drowning in the haze of pleasure.
he groans, forehead pressed to yours, lips brushing your temple. “so wet… so perfect…”
he drives into you faster, hips snapping, thumb pressing harder against your clit.
“mmgh—oh fuck—i’m close!” you gasp, fingers digging into his shoulders, trying to hold yourself together.
he buries himself deeper, following the rhythm of your body, letting every shudder, every gasp guide him.
“let go,” he murmurs, teeth grazing your shoulder, voice low and strained.
your walls clamp around him, slick coating him, heat consuming you, and your cry tears out before you can stop it.
his hips stutter, jaw flexing, breathing ragged, as he rides you through your climax, feeling every tight, trembling motion.
you shiver violently, legs quaking, mind going completely blank.
he presses a final deep thrust, letting you ride it out, hands holding you steady as the last waves of pleasure wash through you.
after a moment, your bodies collapse together, slick and trembling, foreheads pressed, breaths mingling, utterly spent.
and then a smile against your throat.
“mm…sorry sweetheart, i think i went a little off script. shall we try again?”
series masterlist | taglist open
if you didn’t read pt 1, this is based on this twitter porn link! (heh don’t open in public…)
those who asked to be tagged and those who commented for part 2! @m1kah4h @chellerambles @outlirs @katsukiskavpav
monster under your bed sneaks its tentacles under your covers
you're sleeping naked on your side, knees bent and ass out, a perfect position for the monster to make use of.
you slowly come to when one tentacle slithers over your shoulder to wrap around your wrists and ties them together against your chest. noticing you're awake, another two quickly wrap around your shins and ankles to keep them in place and pivot your ass further out.
a fourth tentacle comes up to drag across your cunt, dipping between the folds and brushing through. rimming your hole and teasing back and forth between the lips, it gets you wet and leaking in no time, spurred on by your helpless state of being tied up and kept in position right where you are.
the stimulation makes you writhe in the creature's hold, and your moaning accompanies the slurp of the slimy tentacle as it penetrates your cunt and makes itself welcome there. expanding in a pulsing motion and stretching out your hole, it swirls inside you searching for the best spots to rub against and make you thrash around in its grip. when you're gasping and crying out in pleasure, the monster finds your open mouth to slip another tentacle in, like a long tongue down your throat. gently gagged, double-stuffed and strongly wrapped-up, there's nothing for you to do but take it and let your mind go blank. one last, small tentacle comes up then, sneaking over your thighs and sliding in between, focusing its tip to circle over your clit until you're cumming in a thorough, full-body bliss.
a pack of werewolves having you as their free use toy slave.
they keep you tied up and blindfolded in a dark, comfortably heated room. food and drinks are provided regularly, but the blindfold stays on and the clothes stay off so you never catch a glimpse of who and how many enter the room and you're always ready for any of their needs.
they may visit you at any hour of the day and you never know how many there are. you can only try and guess by how many claws grab a hold of your arms, your waist, your thighs, your ankles; and by how many throbbing cocks tease at and use your holes for their whims and pleasure, and for what feels like never-ending loads of hot thick cum.
so it goes. sometimes they come in just to pump quick loads in you, driving you to the edge but not giving you time to go over it, and then just leave you wet, trembling and desperate for more. sometimes they take their time filling you up, and you're not quite sure whether your overstimmed screaming after cumming over and over is of no interest to them, or if it just serves to encourage them further to keep going.
they may untie your ties to move you over to fuck on another surface and in a position they like best. a gang of three want you lying spread-eagle on the bed, two double-stuffing your holes while one slips its length down your throat; other two have you bent over a study for agonizingly slow spitroasting; one pushes you prone on the floor, mounting your back and taking turns thrusting in both holes until its massive knot pops in and makes you scream; the next one hoists your spent body up on the wall, gently sits you all the way down on its shaft and starts snapping sharp thrusts up against your cervix, making you cry from yet another overwhelmingly deep orgasm before shooting one last cumload in to make up for it.
Do you want to play hide and seek? Let me outside to run as it gets close to dark. No clothes, of course, so I'll try not to trip and get scratches all over me.. Or maybe you'd like seeing me already bleeding when you caught me.. I'll only get so far without shoes, and then I'll hear you slam the door on your way out. That's my signal. You're on your way. You'll torture me, with whistles and whispers, letting me know when you're close enough to hear me if I move. I'm sure you'll find me, I was never very good at being quiet. Little whimpers of excitement... my breath getting shakier the closer I hear your steps... all I can imagine is you ravaging me. Suddenly, I'll feel your hand around my neck, pressing me into the tree. "Run, my little pup," you'll say to me as you release your hand. I knew the chase was your favorite part. I'll take off, knowing it won't take long for you to catch up, and you'll play with me. You'll run fast enough to catch up, then slow down. Knowing I'll be looking behind me too much to pay attention to my footing, and inevitably trip and get covered in scratches. I'll quickly flip over to look where you are, only to be met with you on top of me, pinning me down, face inches from my chest, inches from the bleeding scratches, looking up at me.
I'm sure you can imagine the rest.
-🪻
Sure I can.
Pinning all my weight onto you. The cold wet ground soaking into your back, chilling you. My right hand releases one of your arms. Hit me all you want, it’s too late. I’ve already got you, you should have ran faster. In the dark, you hear a zip and feel something warm and hard thud onto your front. You squirm harder and try to kick me off but the cold is eating through you, the darkness enveloping you. You’re getting more and more tired. It’s beginning to feel a lot easier to just give in and let me take you, isn’t it? You let out a whimper as I flip you back over, your bleeding skin pressing into the wet earth. Your chest pinned to the floor, I spread your legs apart with my knees. One hand pressed against the small of your back, weighing you down. The other hand round the back of your throat, pushing you cheek first to the floor. “Let me in” I whisper in your ear. You feel the soft tip of the warm hard length stroke you, up and down until I find your wet spot. Pushing into you, stretching you open. Deeper and deeper. Filling you entirely. Maybe it’s too much for you? The slow deep thrusts speed up, hitting deep and bruising your cervix, your swollen pussy pounded into the mud. Not a thought in your little head. Only concious of your hearts heavy thumping, gasping breath and the unending thrusting inside you. Whimpering with each strike. You feel the thick rigid thing inside you start throbbing and pulsating. Something warm and wet, squirting and filling you. Overflowing, seed drips out of you and runs down your thighs. In the cold night air, I can see your body wet and steaming. Covered in blood, dirt and cum. There’s something so intoxicating about it all, the chase, hunting you and taking you like this. Just as nature intended.
# str8 mistreat it up ! cameron ‘the cannon’ cade ::
featuring. ▷ ⛐ ᩙᮬ twee-cutie creed sister!black fem reader x underground + professional boxer!cameron cade & childhood intimidator ﾒ
warnings. nsfw. explicit language below! smut with zero plot. brief mentions of blood. rough!mean!asshole cameron cade. unprotected banging! semi-public [locker-room]! manhandling. pussydrunk cam. indications of cheating. squirting. slight choking. cam’s soooo big! standing position! cervix-kissing. multiple orgasms. eventual creampie. ++ lowercase intended! pinterest links included! emdashes!
𓈒 ˙ ꪆৎ if someone asked the cannon: ‘cameron, is there anything better than boxing?’, he would have knocked them clean out and spit over their withering body. because how dare they? how dare they even assume there be an answer? the question had not once, in his entire six-year professional career, even occurred to him. boxing was the absolute core of his identity, down to the most microscopic parts of his being . . .
just ten minutes ago, his boxing mitts and robe were the largest gift. his world began and ended in the squared circle; twenty-three feet by twenty-three feet, sixteen ropes parallel, four fucking posts . . .
but he’s found a new love. a love that’s been in his life far longer than boxing. a love that’s always stared up at him with goggly eyes set behind massive lenses and chunky, dorky frames. a love he’ll curse himself for rejecting and swatting off, like one pesky mosquito. a love he never saw himself indulging; frequently assuring his closest brother — who was presently demoted to stupid-fucking-opponent — that he would never make any advancements, “wouldn’t touch that girl wit’a ten foot pole. trus’me.”
and almost ten years later, he is touching. touching all over. and licking and biting and kissing and grunting and moaning and trying his very best to calm it. he hasn’t had a hard-on this severe since the night he lost his virginity. those light-green eyes were watery, and very blood hot, but cameron ‘the cannon’ cade would have sworn on a stack of bibles that they were also the eyes of a sober man . . . of a man who only had his fiancée on his mind. he looks to his opponent’s sister and desperately wants to see his fiancée . . . but his brain won’t let him. she didn’t feel like this- and she damn sure didn’t smell like this either.
there’s a different sort of sweetness in the air. a homey, secure smell. a smell that when his eyes flutter shut from pleasure, his pussy-drunk brain presents a paradise his younger-self would hurl at. somehow, this smell completely overpowered the unpleasant stench of him . . . totally shocking, given the sweat hanging at his hairline, behind his steaming neck, along his tensed arms and hands (still wrapped in reddened bandages), between his straining fat thighs, and the dried blood below his nostrils and at his busted lips . . . the cannon feels stupefied.
another girly, futile whine spills and his weighty cock is twitching. it burns having to go soooo slow, but he doesn’t want to cause pain. not any more than what he was already inflicting on such a precious body. and he wasn’t even all the way in, just barely a full quarter. every-time cameron pulled back, stopping before his plump, glossy tip — deep pink in shade — could plop out . . . he’d push back to feed more of his delicious cock in— “‘s t-too m-mucch- “
shit- what a voice. “it’s not- stop sayin’ that shit.” but there wasn’t much else to do. cameron was holding both arms back, using one large hand as a makeshift-cuff. “wish i had a camera . . . let you hear how fuckin’ ungrateful you sound.” because yeah, most girls would kill to be in this position: pressed against a chilly locker with their flowery top bunched at the waist, polka-dot skirt hiked and few-of-a-kind undershorts torn through. “no more runnin’. jus’ let’me fuck you open- c’mon . . . trus’me.”
and if you weren’t so absolutely smitten by cameron cade . . . you would’ve stopped this right here. he was going against about five of your ‘non-negotiable’ boundaries during sexy-time. “you trust me, righ’?” with that free hand of his, he snakes around your waist and clamps his palm over your shivering abdomen, that dangling jewellery marking your brown skin. “i’ll make us feel good- i promise.”
“i promise,” he whispers against your neck, “i’ve got’chu.” and kisses and nibbles and licks. “know you’wanna make this dick nut- “ cameron dropped your hands and swooped around, collecting one soft boob. he squeezed and tweaked at your nipple, slowly wiggling his hefty hips, digging that huge cock a little further. there was a hole to be pierced and molded; to the shape of him. “no more cryin’ . . . le’me do ‘t all, yeaah . . .”
your face, all flush and livid pallor, blazed . . . glittery lips drawn back from your teeth in a mini pout . . . is enough to make the cannon explode. cameron bends in, hot breath fanning over your parted lips, “i’m gon’a nut insid’a you, ‘kay?” more of a declaration than a warning. a sure-thing. almost guaranteed. nothing would stop him from cumming in your tummy, not even you.
he’s in. “ooooh . . .” all the way. “shit.” you’re shuddering wrackingly, legs feeling rubbery and unreliable. “. . . doesn’t that feel soooo much better?” cameron pecks the salty patches of your cheek. “say it- tell me ‘t’s my dick makin’ this sloppy pussy feel good . . .” cameron pleads through aggressive munches.
after so long, yeah, it had been him. finally. your college-self wouldn’t believe this to be true. the boy you had a gigantic crush on throughout your child, pre-teen, and teen years? wanting to make you feel good? you? the girl cameron cade pinched and tripped and plucked and shoved and teased and mocked . . . currently being forced to take the entirety of his curvy cock.
thwack thwack thwack! seemingly, all those years of unnecessary mistreatment has . . . gone out the window. faded out into nothing. to darkness with each thwack thwack thwack. how could you still be upset when this was the outcome? frankly, you’d experience it all over again if it meant having cameron cade’s dick so far up your pussy — it was a miracle to be so incredibly lengthy and girthy and know just how to use it . . . shining pearls of wetness bubble over his happy trail and pubes.
shlap shlap shlap! “you-you’re being . . . so . . . rough!” huffing, puffing. and cameron doesn’t take that as a cry to stop. he doesn’t even ease up. again, your arm swings back to try and stop his mean ramming, but he just forces you away — changing his mind, cameron clutched a hand around your bicep, which made fucking you that much smoother.
“nuh-uh. stay here,” he chokes out, “you got it. you got it. you got it.” cameron’s voice significantly pitches and he’s so into it that he doesn’t even realize that you’re squirming . . . yet splashing and dribbling juices over your pretty, velvety ballet flats.
with the other hand, he lets go of your wobbly hip and grips the front of your neck, snatching you into his torso— “ahhn-gh~!” —so beefy. and so insanely sweaty.
plapplapplap! plap . . . plap . . . plap . . . cameron’s slowing down just so he could pant mumble in your ear, rude and annoyingly, “anyone fuckin’ this at home? hmm? who better? me or him? say th’ truth” he’s such a boy. you swallow thickly despite having an awfully dry throat, voice all raspy and strained for the very obvious reason: “nno,” you hiccuped.
cameron hums and leans his head in. like he didn’t hear you the first time. “no h-him.” and cameron feels butterflies. for a reason he can’t yet pinpoint. with a sly smile, “yea’?” well . . . this just got far more intimate. you’re nodding against him, cunt leaking a bunch more — even with sluggish, mindful plunges, he was still so deep. so so deep. sooooo deep. he didn’t have to try. he just was. that. big. and fat. for no reason at all. small amounts of slippery arousal that oozed from his tip painted your cervix.
“mggh~!” and his pace has quickened. the cannon could practically taste his oncoming load. cameron drawls, “ohhhh fucccccck,” listening to the way your gooey pussy peels away from his soaked thighs; a slich slich slich! clicky noise as he sinks back into your ribbed, silken walls. his eyes snap shut and both of his hot hands grab onto your shoulders.
with unbelievable power, cameron is banging you backbackback onto his cock. “fnh-hnnnh! cam- fucc-ah!!” and he continues to grunt out curses, knees starting to buckle. the way your pussy slurps him in, ass clapping at his pelvis, you’re short-circuiting: tearing and drooling and squirting a-fucking-gain. he keeps at it; taking you upupup to that orgasm cliff and harshly bringing you back down.
“‘m bouta busss~” cameron chortles, tugging and slamming you back and forth, just jackhammering without a single care in the world. filthy words leave his mouth, ones he could never imagine saying to you if he weren't so gone and not so damn pussy whipped. “mmm-righ’there. uurrgh!” his chest’s ballooning and you could feel how fast his heart’s beating from his palms, how careless he’s becoming from his strenuous efforts.
tongue lolled out like some stupid doll, you don’t think you’ve ever been fucked like this before. ever. and after this evening, would you ever get this back? this dick? probably not. a new bar’s been impossibly set. cameron’s ruined everything for the next man —
GASP. there’s an explosion: “hnnht!” and another sticky spurt: “hnht!” and another splash: “fuck!” syrupy ribbons of sweltry white seed trickles from your walls. to cameron, it feels like the winds been knocked right outta him. and you . . . you are suffocating. roasting from the inside out. he keeps his arms around you, worried he may collapse.
adonis is going to kill you. cameron first.
𓈒 ˙ ꪆৎ hello. it is currently 4:40am edt (the birds are chirping) and this took approximately 2days. i have genuinely been busy with my summer career class, job, & trying to make time for personal relationships. i do get creative writing ideas often, but i’ve been lacking the brain power to push forward. i have NAAWT dropped from the ‘tyriq withers’ wagon. i’m still at the party literally. + wondering what else i could share with this univerrssseeee!!!!!
Send me rape threats, I’m serious. Unload all your dirtiest, most depraved, rough fantasies in my dms and watch me get wet at the thought of you acting them out with me. I wanna hear in detail about how daddy would fuck my tight tiny cunnie and lend me out for any man to use, preferably multiple men at the same time. No limits at all. I’m waiting <3
kidnap me and tie me up and use me as your sex slave, filling my pussy up with cum as you please. degrade me and teach me that im nothing but a hole for your pleasure 🩷
snowghoul
titsay
yousharknotpass
