#Kinkmas
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rafesthroatbaby · 24 hours ago
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„You should put some stain remover on that, Rafey,” you whisper as you cup his bulge, making him hiss. “Wine is real hard to get out.”
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like he about to lose his shit and she recommend damn stain remover 😭 that girl knowssss how to push his buttons
Before you can beg for more, his hands grab your shoulders, drilling into you from the back as water rushes between the two of you.
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Rafe pulls you back by your throat, wrapping his arms around your neck and your waist as he fills your pussy with his cum and your ears with his fuck-out moans.
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OMGGG bitch can we talk about the fucking tension at the dinner ?!!! and that little action under the table too 😭 no wonder daddy’s brain is mushy and messy… brat def knows how to play this game better & make our sexy dilf desperate for more 👅 and sending him old pics is devils work 🤭 idk how you do it but I’m so glad you eat that shit up everytime 👏🏼 MY FUCKING GIRL DID THAT AHHHHHHHHH
𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼
𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬
𝔻𝕒𝕪 ℕ𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕟: ℂ𝕠𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕦𝕥 ℂ𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞 ℙ𝕚𝕖
𝙾𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚟!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙱𝚎𝚜𝚝𝙵𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
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*part of the “Milkshake” AU — writen to be read alone.
warnings: dark!rafe, dark!reader, older!rafe (30s), jealous!rafe, perv!rafe, obsessed!rafe, fetishizes simple things the reader does, swearing, teasing, threats, begging, bribes for sex, cheating on spouse (sofia), semi public handjob, cum tasting, choking, angst, begging, shower sex, rough sex, dirty talk, praise, brief oral (female receiving)
📖 All of my asks got deleted 💕😭 so I'm not sure who requested this, but thank you! This was not a kinkmas ask, but I made it one 😋 The premise is that you hooked up with your best friend Rafe a few months back. He admitted to being obsessed with you and was even willing to pay for you to be intimate because he was so desperate. Since then, you have been hooking up, and he promised he would leave Sofia, but he hasn't yet, and you're getting impatient. When you show up for Christmas dinner at the Camerons with your ex Kelce, you can't help but smile while Rafe squirms.
❕note about Sofia: please remember this is a dark!reader fic. She doesn't like Sofia, and she's vocal about that. Sofia is solely there for the plot❕
Masterlist
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Reader's POV:
The room buzzed with conversation and laughter, a sheen of perfection glossing over every interaction as it always did when Sofia hosted. The table was set—fine china, crystal glasses, formal centerpieces that screamed kook royalty.
Sofia smiled her perfect smile, stealing glances at her perfect husband. How could you not hate her? Not in the petty passing way that you would hate someone for being too poised or too sweet. You despised Sofia because she embodied everything you weren’t: composed, polished, obedient. And maybe that’s what he wanted me to be—doubtful, given the way he’s staring.
And despite having the perfect wife and life, he kept coming back to you.
You let your finger trail along the edge of the wine glass, eyes shifting to Rafe’s. His gaze follows your fingers as they do… Until someone startles him, Rafe comes to smile and laugh at shit he didn’t hear, just dreaming about your slight fingers tracing up his hard dick just like that—just like they were the night before.
And then his eyes cut fast: one seat to your right where Kelce sits. Your ex and one of his best friends turned ex-best friends no less than two hours ago when you showed up at the Cameron's front door, one hand holding Kelce’s, the other clutching a bottle of Sofia’s favorite wine.
Kelce had no idea what he was walking into tonight. You hadn’t seen him in years, and truthfully, you weren’t sure why you invited him in the first place… A smile rolls across your lips as you draw your wine glass to your mouth, taking a sip, living in that lie for another moment.
You wanted to watch Rafe squirm…
His jaw coils as Kelce leans in, complimenting your dress as his hand rests against your thigh. You let out a breathy laugh—the kind of laugh that has Rafe adjusting in his seat. The wood creaks on the other side of you; the man quickly clears his throat before asking for something else from down the table.
Rafe’s focus is shameless, burning a hole into your back as you reach up, fixing the collar of Kelce’s button down shirt. Rafe taps his ring against his glass in a subtle attempt to pull your attention back to him, but there’s nothing subtle about Rafe Cameron…
“Could you pass me that, baby,” Rafe mumbles, and you turn to him. His eyes are there when you bend back, gesturing lazily to something down the table, but his words also catch Sofia. That little ‘baby’ reached both of your ears, making Rafe draw a deep, flustered breath.
He chooses to ignore it, and so does she. You reach for the coconut cream pie, passing it to Rafe with a knowing smile. His eyes follow your fingers, your thumb dipping in the sweet treat.
“Rafe,” Sofia chirps, the tone in her voice letting you know that that wasn’t the first time she tried to catch his attention. You were so focused on each other that you missed her first attempt. Rafe glances at her, gripping the table's edge, trying desperately to keep his eyes on his wife, but he knows what you’re about to do next.
She asks him about his work trip, inviting Topper and Ruthie into the conversation in an attempt to merge the ends of the table in conversation—possibly trying to cut the tension she was feeling between the two of you too. Rafe’s words get lost on his lips as he watches yours wrap around your thumb, sucking it clean.
He quickly realigns his focus, talking about his conference in Vancouver—the one he had been begging you to meet him for. And just when he’s about to drop some figures, he tumbles over his words, swallowing thickly before starting again when he feels your fingers walk over to his thigh.
His features sharpen as you delicately trace the inner seam of his pants, watching him as he tries to keep his composure.
Topper starts to speak, and Rafe breathes a sigh of relief, glancing down at his lap for a moment without Sofia’s watchful eye.
Your hand widens, cupping his bulge, making him bite his lips and flare his nose to hold back a moan.
He swallows thickly, his broad chest rising and falling, flexing tightly on his exhale as he tries his best to continue his conversation with the Thorntons as you start to stoke him over his dress pants.
Rafe’s tongue runs along his red bottom lip, having bitten it so hard he drew blood. You reach over with your other hand, grabbing his napkin by mistake, dabbing the corners of your lips, letting it fall between your thighs.
You separate your legs, dragging the linen napkin up your soaked slit. Passing it to Rafe with a gentle “Sorry, I think this is yours.”
He shakes his head and grits his teeth as you rub his dick with one hand and fix the bottom of your dress with the other. “S’fine,” he mumbles gently, pressing the words past his quivering lips.
Rafe looks at the napkin, resisting momentarily before lifting it to his face, rubbing his mouth. His eyes shut, taking in the scent lingering far too long. He rests it on the counter, a wet mark of his salvia left behind.
Your fingers work his clothed cock over and over, Rafe’s muscular thighs trembling with each push of your hand. His cock throbs underneath your palm, pushing against his zipper so hard you just know it hurts.
Rafe looks up to the ceiling, shutting his eyes for a moment before letting them roll back in his skull in peace, not wanting everyone else to see the pleasure radiating from between his thighs.
His fists close into tight balls at the table, pushing down into the hardwood to keep himself soundless, trying to leave his face as unchanged as possible when you look his way. “Toronto sounds nice,” you smile.
Rafe reaches up, running his hand across his forehead and through his hair, catching the sweat that gathered on his brow. “So nice,” he mumbles.
He reaches down, snatching your wrist, holding you in place, squeezing you with the cadence of the heavy loads spurting in his pants. He hangs his head slightly, releasing your hand, muscles firing hot as you run your fingers over his warm, wet, spent pooled on his lap.
Your hands drift back, fingers lifting to your lips, sucking the tips of your middle and your pointer fingers. Rafe’s eyes tighten on yours, lust-blow and irate.
He looks down at his pants again, seeing the mess, before returning his eyes to you. Rafe’s gaze stays locked as he lifts his wine glass to his lips, purposefully missing, letting the red liquor fall to his lap, concealing the mess. “Shit,” he huffs, directing his frustrations at you more than anything else, wetting his linen napkin in water before rubbing it clean, spreading it all out.
“Oh, Rafey,” Sofia scolds him playfully, her words slurring.
“It’s fine. Alright?” He snips, his lip twitching in a scowl toward you as you pour yourself another glass of wine. You look across the table at Sofia, catching her empty glass. Ever the polite guest, draining the rest of the bottle of Pontet Canet for her with a smile.
“For you,” you coo.
”Excuse me,” Rafe mumbles as he pushes the seat out, heading toward the stairs as the couples leave.
Sofia stands up, wobbling slightly from one too many glasses of wine. You lean into Kelce, but he already knows what you’ll say. “I’ll meet you at the car,” he whispers through a soft, judgemental chuckle.
You walk around the table, looping your arm around Sofia’s. “Let me help you up the stairs,” you say, for her ears only. She gives you a gentle smile and accepts the offer.
As soon as her head hits the pillow, her eyes are shut, just a purr of a snore slipping her perfect lips as you tuck her in, turning toward the door.
Rafe’s big body darkens the exit, his shadow casting ominously across the floor. “We need to talk,” he says, his voice low and tight.
“Tomorrow. Kelce’s waiting for me in the car,” you whisper as you head toward the door, veering around him. He grabs for you, pulling you in close.
”Tomorrow?” He spits, his jaw set. “Right fuckin’ now. What the hell are you doin’ with Kelce?”
”What’s wrong with Kelce?” You ask dumbly, making Rafe smirk and roll his eyes at you. “You should put some stain remover on that, Rafey,” you whisper as you cup his bulge, making him hiss. “Wine is real hard to get out.”
“Kelce?” He ignores you completely as he steps closer.
”Why does it matter?”
”You know damn well why it fuckin’ matters,” he hisses.
“Not a clue,” you laugh breathily. “I have no idea why that would matter to you, Rafe. Maybe I should ask your wife why the fuck you would care about me if you have her.”
”Enough-”
”Please,” you scoff as you push past him, but he grabs for you harder this time, shoving you up against the wall hard enough for knick-knacks to clatter. Rafe looks back at Sofia, her body unmoved, sleeping peacefully in their bed. His eyes snap to yours, his grip tightening on you in frustration, pinning you against the wall.
“What the fuck is going on with you, huh?” He grunts; the both of breathing heavily, lips mere inches away from each other, making his eyes fall, wetting his own.
“I’m done waiting around,” you whisper.
“Stop,” he warns, his voice low and dangerous. His hand finds its way around your throat, squeezing tighter. “Stop actin’ like this shit is easy for me.”
”Let me go,” you gag the words out as your lips curl into a smirk.
Rafe’s eyes roll back when he sees your lips curl, growling in frustration before turning you around; pushing you up into the wall. He grabs your hips, pressing his clothed dick into your ass as you arch your back.
“Fuck, baby,” he moans as he paws for the bottom of your dress, pulling it around your hips. His big hands wrap around the front of your body, rough fingers gliding through your soaked folds as he moans in your ear.
”Rafe…” You whisper as you circle your hips; the man teasing your entrance with his big fingers.
“Sweetheart?” His deep voice vibrates against your neck, lips skimming your hot skin.
“I’m taking Kelce back to my place,” you whisper as you turn your cheek slightly, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. “So when you text me, begging me to let you in, and I don’t answer… Well, I’m guessing you know the rest.”
“You’re lying,” he mumbles, his voice laced with doubt.
“Hey, baby. You good?” You hear Kelce’s voice echo from the bottom of the staircase.
“Tell your wife dinner was lovely,” you smile.
Rafe lets you go reluctantly, stepping out in the hall to watch you as you walk away, heels clicking along the hardwood floor, giving him one last parting look and a smile.
The drive back to your house was electric—your phone vibrated with back-to-back notifications from Rafe, panicking over you and the utterly oblivious man in your driver's seat.
Once you got home, you poured yourself a glass of wine and started the shower, letting your party dress fall to the floor. You snapped some pictures before sending them off…
You bit your lip and smiled, thinking about the last picture you included as well—an old shot of you and Kelce, the bathroom mirror hazy—his hands covering all the right spots. There was no nasty message, no witty caption. The implication was clear.
It didn’t take long.
You look out your bedroom window, watching Rafe’s BMW peel down the dark road, his tires screeching to a stop outside. Rafe’s car door swings open and slams shut, doing the same to your front door until his heavy feet are pounding inside.
He calls your name from the bottom of the steps, his voice raw and hoarse with fear. You stay quiet, letting the sounds of the running water answer for you. Rafe’s footsteps thunder up the stairs as he curses under his breath, mumbling about the things he'd do next.
Rafe throws open the door; his face, a storm of emotions—anger, desperation, guilt as he struggles for a breath, his big hand clutching his chest as he fights for air. “You’re fucking insane,” he shouts as he sees you dry and alone, sitting on the end of your bed in a satin robe with a glass of wine. You raise an eyebrow, challenging him with your glare.
“Am I?” You ask, taking another sip.
“You were trying to make me lose my shit,” he snaps as he steps forward.
“Oh no…” You pout your lip condescendingly. “And it worked, didn't it?”
“You’re bein’ cruel. Jesus— we’re friends. You're my best friend, and you're treatin’ me like this? This is a mess, and it’s all your fuckin’ fault,” he screams, seeing red.
“How?” You laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.
“You knew how fuckin’ weak I am when it comes to you, and you fuckin’ seduced me. Okay?”
“And you paid me to keep going,” you counter. “You could have ignored it, Rafe. You were the one who begged me for more.”
“Your… Fuck. Your-” Rafe words fall away as you tug at the satin bow of your robe, letting it fall open.
“You told me you’d leave her, Rafe. You promised. But here we are, alone in my house,” you whisper as his muscles strain, holding himself from reaching out for you. “And you're still playing house with Sofia.”
“I know,” he groans as he reaches out, touching the space between your robe, tracing your bare skin.
“You wanna talk about friendship? You lied to me.”
“M’sorry,” he whispers as he closes the gap between you, lowering one side of your robe, pressing a kiss against your shoulder. “I’ll leave her tomorrow,” he says, his voice breaking. “I swear to you, I will. Just… Don’t push me away,” he pleads. “And we’re not just friends. That’s fucking bullshit n’ you know it,” he mumbles as his lips meet your neck.
You lower the other side of the robe, the delicate material falling around your feet before you look up at Rafe. His blue eyes are locked on your body, studying you as you step away. He follows you close, pulling off his clothes with each step.
“Beg,” you say softly as you look over your shoulder before stepping inside. Rafe’s eyes soften on yours—his desperation tragic as you pull the door shut, leaving him outside.
“I’m begging you,” he pleads as he stands at the glass door, the shadow of his big body looming as he waits for you to say, ‘Okay.’ “You want me to pay you, baby? You want my money? Take it this time, alright? Anything you want.”
“I have plenty of money, Rafe.”
“Here…” He mumbles as his shadow shifts along the fogged glass, moving into the bedroom before running back in. “$5000 cash right now, all my credit cards, my Rolex, MY FUCKIN’ CAR,” he panics as he slams his keys on the counter.
“Your car, Rafe,” you chuckle breathily.
“If I had more to give you right now, I'd give it to you, I swear to Christ,” he rambles as his big hands rest on the other side of the glass, sliding down the condensation. “Please. Just let me inside. Alright? I'll make this right.” You watch him reach down, grabbing the handle, unsure if he’ll even wait for your go-ahead, the man so painfully obsessed he might just take that risk. “Please-”
“You have one chance, Rafe-” As soon as his name leaves your lips, the door swings open. Rafe pushes you up against the cold tile, pinning you against the wall just like he did in his bedroom.
His lips crash against yours, kissing you fast and hard, leaving you reaching for a breath just for him to steal it again. "Turn around,” he mutters, but before you can act, he turns you fast, his patience long gone. “Been thinkin’ about this… Always think about you,” he mumbles drunkenly as he grabs your hips, pulling your ass flush against him, his thick cock nestled between your plush thighs. He grabs his length, tapping his tip against your ass before running himself through your wet slit. “Thought I lost you… Losing my goddamn fuckin’ mind, and I'm still thinkin’ about this pussy-”
“Rafe!” Your voice bounces off the shower walls as he slams into you. His moan echoes closely behind as he bottoms you out.
“That’s it. Mmm, baby… Holy shit,” he hums, getting his fix as his rough hands circle your ass, slipping up your back. Before you can beg for more, his hands grab your shoulders, drilling into you from the back as water rushes between the two of you. “So fucking tight,” he grunts between rough thrusts, leaving you gasping as your hands slip against the wall from the impact.
“Choke me,” you cry as you feel your pleasure burn in your belly.
“Mpfhh… Fuckin’ love you,” he whines as his fingers find your throat, wrapping around you tight. The sound of skin slapping skin gets louder and louder, your heart racing as your pleasure mounts.
“Fuck, Rafe,” you sob, voice cracking from his tight grip.
“Cum for me,” he groans. “Make a mess for me, princess. Let me clean it up.”
Your eyes roll back in your head, pulsing around his long, fat cock. Rafe pulls you back by your throat, wrapping his arms around your neck and your waist as he fills your pussy with his cum and your ears with his fuck-out moans.
Rafe hangs his head momentarily, catching his breath, lips pressed against your shoulder. He lets out a satisfied breath as he lowers himself to his knees, grabbing your hips, turning you around as you smile down at him, your chest rising and falling fast as you giggle. He presses little kisses against your hips, burning his face against you momentarily before pulling back, his beautiful eyes in a daze.
“What are you doing, baby?” You whirr as you run your nails through his hair.
Rafe takes your thigh, looping it over his shoulder; he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss against your clit, making you whimper in sensitivity.
“Cleaning up the mess, princess.”
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tags: @rafesthroatbaby @littlelamy @kisses4angels @watchmerora @buckybarnessweetheart @anamiad00msday @namelesslosers @cades-outsider @romaescapes @starkeysprincess @oxpogues4lifexo @unrealmirrorball @sleepiibunniiii @gri959 @rafesgiirl @daryldixon83 @akobx @hyperfixationgirl @lhhlver @rrafeswhore @slut-4-gojo @blair-bears-blog @loveesiren @cameronwillow @rafegf-real @alphabetically-deranged @ariana2saucyy
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rafesbabygirlx · 18 hours ago
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6 𝑫𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 🎄 𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒆 𝑪𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒏 - 𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒆
𝙳𝚊𝚢 6 - 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝙳𝚎𝚋𝚝 - 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙶𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝙱𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢 
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𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚘𝚗 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝙴𝚟𝚎, 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝙱𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢’𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚊 𝚍𝚎𝚋𝚝, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚚𝚞��𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚢 𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙱𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚖𝚜 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚞𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚜. 𝚃𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝙱𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜.
𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎, 𝚞𝚗𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚡, 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚋𝚝 (𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚝) 𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕 (𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐) 𝚍𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕
𝚊/𝚗- 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚞𝚎 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚊 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚎. 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚙 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝
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The tension in Rafe's truck was palpable as you pulled up to Barry’s place. You shot him a look, arms crossed, already annoyed at the unexpected detour.  
“You really couldn’t have done this another time? We're supposed to be at your house for dinner.” you asked, your tone sharp.  
“It’ll be quick,” Rafe muttered, shoving the envelope of cash into his jacket. “Five minutes, tops. Also don’t act like you give a shit about dinner. Both of us would rather be anywhere else..”  
“Yeah, sure,” you said under your breath, stepping out into the crisp December air, not really being able to argue with Rafe since he’s right..  
Inside Barry’s dimly lit shack, the air reeked of motor oil and cheap cologne. Rafe handed over the envelope, his movements tense but deliberate. Barry, lounging behind a counter, thumbed through the bills with a practiced slowness that set your nerves on edge.  
“Well, look at that,” Barry drawled, tossing the envelope onto the counter. “The $1000s all here… except you’re short.”  
Rafe stiffened. “What are you talking about? You just said that’s the whole $1000.”  
“Yeah, it’s there,” Barry said, leaning forward, his grin oozing smugness. “But I told you—late fees are unavoidable. You’re five days late, Rafe, which means you’re $500 short in my book.”  
Rafe scoffed, his jaw tightening. “$100 a day? You’re full of shit, Barry.”  
“I supply, what I say, or make up, is what goes”, Barry says as his gaze shifted, and you noticed his expression change as he caught sight of you standing behind Rafe. His smile widened, more predatory now, as he leaned back in his chair, drumming his fingers on the counter.  
“Well,” Barry said slowly, his eyes lingering on you in a way that made your skin crawl. “There might be another way to work this out.”  
Rafe turned sharply, stepping partially in front of you. “Don’t even think about it,” he snapped, his tone low and dangerous.  
Barry raised his hands in mock innocence. “Relax, Rafe. I’m just saying, if the lady’s willing to… help out, maybe we can call it even.”  
Your stomach turned, heat rising to your face as anger bubbled up. “Excuse me?” you said sharply, stepping out from behind Rafe.  
“Don’t even acknowledge him,” Rafe said, his voice tight, as he placed a hand on your arm to stop you. He turned back to Barry, his posture radiating tension. “You’re not dragging her into this. I’ll get you your damn money.”  
Barry shrugged, still grinning. “Suit yourself, but you’d better make it fast. Interest doesn’t wait, Rafe.”  
Rafe grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the shack, slamming the door behind him. Outside, the cold air bit at your skin, but it was nothing compared to the icy fury in Rafe’s expression.  
“Rafe,” you started, trying to steady your voice.  
“Don’t,” he said, pacing in front of the Jeep. “I’ll handle it. I don’t care what it takes, but you’re not getting involved in this shit.”  
“I wasn’t planning to before,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “And I’ll lecture you later about how you’ve got to stop acting like this isn’t a problem.”  
He stopped pacing and looked at you, his eyes stormy but softened by something deeper. “I know. I’ll fix it.”  
“Let me help. Like you said neither of us want to be at that dinner,” you say slyly, walking closer to him. “Maybe, it’ll be fun. A little Christmas gift from me to you, but also for me because I think I like the idea.” 
“I’m not a sharer, you know that. Especially with someone like him,” Rafe throws his hand up at Barry’s little rundown shack. 
“C’mon,” you grab him by the wrist and pull him back inside. 
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“Back so soon, huh sugar?” Barry smiles widely as he pins you between him and Rafe. You smile sweetly at him and his chest nudges against your shoulder.
“You play by her rules Barry, you make her uncomfortable once and we’re out. You fuck around with her, when she’s being so generous, we’re done,” Rafe demands as he points his finger in Barry’s face and the talk, turning you on even more as they both tower over you. 
“I’m a gentleman, Country Club. Follow me to your palace baby girl,” Barry smiles through his words, bringing your hand up to place a kiss to the back of it pulling you with him to the bedroom. 
You follow Barry into his bedroom dragging Rafe along. 
“Hold up sweetheart, I wanted my time alone with you,” Barry looks Rafe up and down. 
“Yeah well if I’m gonna enjoy this, you can have your fun, but for me…” you walk up closer to Barry and whisper in his ear, “ I want both of you at once.” 
Barry smirks as you turn around, motioning him to unzip your dress. He follows suit, unzipping it as you let it drop to the floor and step out in a matching Christmas red lingerie set. Both boys' jaws drop, this was meant to be just for Rafes eyes but to have both of their eyes scanning your body up and down is so much better. The way it fuels your ego is riveting and it feels like a waterfall flushes from you and your thong becomes soaked.
You walk over to Rafe and make out with him while Barry watches. Every now and then opening your eyes and smirking into the kiss while you stare at Barry. “You’re really ok with this?” 
“Yes, Rafe, I want this so bad. But don’t think for a second that I’m not all yours still. Let me just fulfill this fantasy once. I didn’t even have to embarrassingly bring it up myself.” You look up at him with doe eyes, planting a few more kisses before moving over to Barry.
You wrap your arms around his neck, “let’s see what’s so special about you,” and you pull him in for a kiss. 
As you throw Barry onto the bed, he lets out a low chuckle, his eyes gleaming with excitement. You straddle him, your dress riding up your thighs, and kiss him deeply, grinding your hips down onto his already hard cock. He moans into your mouth, his hands grasping your waist, pulling you closer.
Rafe steps behind you, his hands unhooking your bra and tossing it aside with your dress. He plays with your breasts, his fingers tweaking your nipples, and kisses your shoulder, sending shivers down your spine. You throw your head back against his chest, arching your back, as you continue to grind against Barry.
Finally, you stop, laying down next to Barry, who looks at you with a questioning gaze, his eyes fixed on the wet patch you left on his light-colored pants. You nod, pulling his head towards you,  and he grabs a handful of your left breast, swirling his tongue around your nipple. "Permission to taste more of her country club?" he asks, his voice low and husky.
You nod again, this time looking at Rafe, who gives you a sly smile. "Yeah, let her show you how perfect she is," he says, his voice dripping with desire.
Barry kneels at the foot of the bed, dragging you down to him by your ankles. Rafe comes to stand over you, at the side of the bed, his eyes fixed on you with an intense gaze. You tug on his belt, silently telling him to get undressed. Barry pulls your thong off in one swift motion, spreading your legs wide, and his eyes widen at how wet you already are.
He runs his thumb lightly over your clit, and your body jolts at the tease, both boys chuckling. "Sensitive, sugar?" Barry asks, as he closes in on your pussy. He licks a strip from your hole to your clit, and you're so wet that it forms a mound on the tip of his tongue.
You swear no one holds a candle to the way Rafe makes you feel, but you'd be a liar if you said Barry didn't know how to use his mouth. The flick of his tongue, the way he sucks on your clit, it's like he's trying to outdo Rafe. He adds his fingers, but just enough pressure, the tips circling your hole, driving you crazy.
He wraps one arm around your waist, holding you down, as he becomes more aggressive, his mouth devouring your pussy. You're a mess, unable to form anything coherent that isn’t a loud moan, and Rafe just stares at you from above, his eyes fixed on you with an intense gaze. You don't take your eyes off him, your hand raising, trailing up his thigh, going underneath his boxer briefs, palming his cock.
He leans down to you, "suck my dick," he growls, his voice low and husky.
His eyes roll back as you grasp his base, and begin to stroke him, using his precum as lube.You feel a rush of excitement as Rafe's cock approaches your face. Barry's tongue is still working its magic on you, and you're moaning in pleasure.
Rafe's cock slides into your mouth, and he starts to face fuck you. His hands are in your hair, holding your head in place, and his cock is sliding in and out of your mouth. The realization of you having your boyfriend's cock in your mouth and Barry’s mouth on you hit you and you're in heaven.
As Rafe thrusts deeper, you feel yourself getting closer to orgasm. Barry's mouth is still pressed against your pussy, and you can feel his fingers still tickling your entrance. The combination of sensations is overwhelming, and you're on the verge of coming. You're trapped between the two boys. You're a moaning mess, your body trembling with pleasure.
 You're lost in the feeling of Barry's mouth and making Rafe feel good. You arch your back so hard, you think your spine snapped in half, and you come hard, all over Barry's face.
As you come, Rafe's cock explodes in your mouth. He holds the entire length in your throat as he spills every last bit. The sensation of his cum filling your mouth is intense. Your body goes limp, legs dropping around Barry, and hands coming down from Rafe's thigh. Barry looks up at you, his face covered in your juices, and gives you a sly smile. "Told you she's a wild one," Rafe says.
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Barry gets up, wiping his face with the back of his hand, and gives Rafe a nod. "My turn, Country Club," he says, his voice husky, as he takes Rafe's place at the side of the bed. You look up at him, your eyes locked on his, as he says, "I'm going to fuck your mouth so hard, you'll forget your own name."
Barry moves to stand up on the bed, leaning against the cheap headboard, his eyes fixed on you with a hungry gaze. Rafe lays down, his head at the foot of the bed, and motions for you to straddle him, facing Barry. You feel a rush of excitement as you position yourself over Rafe, his cock twitching with anticipation.
Rafe lifts you onto him, planting his feet on the bed, and begins to slowly fuck up into you. The sensation is intense, and you feel yourself getting wetter with each thrust. Barry moves closer, his hands gently moving your disheveled hair out of your face, and gathering it into a makeshift ponytail.
As Barry strokes his cock, bringing it to your mouth, he whispers "open pretty girl". You open your mouth, laying your tongue out flat, and Barry slams his cock into the back of your throat. The sensation is overwhelming, and you feel a rush of tears forming in your eyes as spit begins to form in the corners of your mouth.
Barry's pace is relentless, but you don't mind. You stare up at him, your eyes blurry from the tears, as he brutally fucks your mouth. Rafe, meanwhile, begins to pick up his pace below you, creating a rhythmic slapping sound as he thrusts into you.
Rafe's grip on your hips tightens, steadying you as he pounds into you. You hold onto Barry's thighs for more stability, feeling the muscles tense beneath your hands. The sensation of being filled by two cocks is intense, and you feel yourself getting closer to orgasm.
As the three of you approach climax, the room is filled with the sound of slapping flesh, the squelching from your wetness, and the smell of sweat and sex. Rafe pumps into you, his cock throbbing with pleasure, and you feel yourself flooding his waist with your come. Barry pulls out of your mouth, his cock twitching with anticipation, and comes all over your face. You feel a rush of pleasure as the three of you cum together. 
Barry steps off the bed heading to the bathroom. He returns with a warm washcloth to clean up the mess he made on your face. Who would’ve thought a drug dealer could be so caring. 
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“I’m not finished,” you say with difficulty through ragged breaths. “I want both of you.” 
They both raise their eyebrows but it only takes a few seconds before they realize what you mean.
You pat the bed next to you as you stare at Rafe. He makes his way over to you, laying down.
As you lay on your side, facing Rafe, you can feel the anticipation building up inside you. Rafe brushes your hair behind your neck, looking at you with lust and pure admiration for his girl. 
 You hook your leg over his waist, and Barry snuggles up behind you, pressing kisses behind your ear. The sensation sends shivers down your spine, and you can't help but moan in anticipation.
Both boys line up their tips to your hole, and slowly start to push in. The feeling of being stretched to your limits is almost overwhelming, but in a good way. You can feel the pressure building up inside you, and Rafe's hand moving down to rub your clit is just the thing to take it over the edge and help with the immense pressure.
As they start to move in and out of you, you can feel the rush of ecstasy coursing through your veins. The sensation of being filled by two huge cocks is almost too much to handle, but you're determined to take it all. Rafe's hand on your clit is the perfect complement to the sensation of being stretched by the two boys, and you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to coming.
Barry's breath is hot against your ear, and his whispers of encouragement are just the thing to push you over the edge. "You're so tight," he whispers. "You're taking us so well." You lean back into Barry, reaching your arm around him and he places open mouth kisses on your neck. The entire time you keep your eyes on Rafe. Letting him know that even with what’s happening your still his. Only his.  Rafe's eyes are locked back on yours, and you can see the pleasure and excitement reflected back at you.
As they keep moving in and out of you, you can feel the pressure building up inside you. You're getting closer and closer to coming, and you can feel the intense tension building up in your body.
You always come hard but there’s something different about this one. Rafe's hand on your clit is the perfect catalyst, and you can feel yourself starting to come.
The sensation is overwhelming, and you can feel yourself squirting as you come. The feeling of being overstimulated is almost too much to handle, but in a good way. You're coming so hard that you can feel yourself losing control, and the two boys are right there with you.
As you come, you can feel the two boys are not far behind. Both cocks are pulsing inside you. The sensation of being filled by them, and the feeling of coming so hard that you're squirting, is almost too much to handle.
But as you lay there, surrounded by Rafe and Barry, you know that it's exactly what you needed. You're exhausted, but satisfied, and you know that you'll never forget this experience. The two boys are holding you close, and you can feel their hearts beating against yours.
As you catch your breath, you can hear the sound of the two boys breathing heavily against you. You know that they're just as exhausted as you are, but they're also just as satisfied. You're all tangled up together, and you know that you'll be staying like this for a while.
This is just what you needed. You're feeling happy, and content, and you know that you'll never forget this experience. 
"I say we do that again," Barry says, his voice low and husky, as he looks at you with a smile.
"Definitely," Rafe agrees, his voice low and husky, as he looks at you with a smile too.
You smile back at them, feeling happy, and excited. “Can’t wait.” 
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austinbutlerslovers · 1 day ago
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How We Became Us
Label Mature 18+
Summary You’re a mom first, navigating the chaos of single motherhood with no time or desire for romance. But when a close friend introduces you to a handsome actor, your carefully guarded heart begins to open in ways you never expected.
🔗 Masterlist
💝Romantic Smut 💝 Austin pursuing • slow burn• guarded heart • single mom of 2•friends to lovers• romantic get away• fluff •first kiss•falling in love• sweet talk •body worship •praising •edging • fingering •oral on fem • clit play •sexual awakening• breast play •p in v• multiple orgasms• cream pie
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📖 Proofreaders @purejasmine @magicovento
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💌 Inspo via request: ( I had to get it perfect ✨ thank you for your patience)
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How We Became Us
The movie set buzzed with energy as crew members scurried around adjusting lights, cameras, and equipment. 
You stood off to the side, balancing your two-year-old daughter on your hip, her chubby fingers tugging at your necklace, while your four-year-old son played with a toy car at your feet, repeatedly pushing it forward only to chase after it. 
His remote control for the car had been misplaced somewhere in the chaos of the morning, so he had resorted to manual play, his determination both endearing and exhausting. 
Your best friend, Emily—your childhood confidant turned big-time movie producer—had invited you for a behind-the-scenes visit to her latest project, American Speed. You were more focused on keeping your toddler from drooling all over your shirt than paying attention to the organized chaos around you.
“Come meet someone!” Emily called out, striding toward you with a grin. She gestured to a tall man following her—a striking figure with sandy-blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, and a laid-back smile. He wore a plain black T-shirt and jeans that seemed almost too normal for someone in Hollywood.
“This is Austin Butler,” Emily introduced. “Austin, this is my best friend I’ve been telling you about, and these are her little ones—”
“Jack and Lily,” you filled in, shifting your daughter on your hip as her toy slipped to the ground. “Sorry, I don’t have a free hand to shake.”
Austin bent down, picking up the toy before holding it out. “No problem. I think I’ve got this.” His warm smile lingered on your daughter as he gently handed the toy back to her. She giggled, and your heart warmed, but you weren’t about to let yourself be charmed that easily.
You cocked an eyebrow. “You don’t mind a little baby drool?”
“Not at all,” he said, straightening up. “I like kids.”
Emily smirked. “Austin’s starring in the movie. He’s kind of a big deal right now.”
“Ah,” you said, nonchalantly, bouncing Lily on your hip. “Sorry, I don’t keep up with movies these days. The last thing I saw in theaters was Sonic the Hedgehog Three—and only because Jack begged me.”
Austin chuckled, looking genuinely amused. “I can’t compete with Sonic, but I’ll take what I can get.”
His easygoing demeanor caught you off guard, and you found yourself smiling despite your initial wariness. Still, you had no intention of getting swept up in Hollywood charm. You were here for Emily and your kids.
The conversation shifted as Emily took Jack’s hand to show him around the set, leaving you and Austin standing there. “Let me guess,” you said. “You’re used to women throwing themselves at you?”
His laugh was soft and genuine. “Is it that obvious?”
“Just a hunch.” You adjusted Lily’s position and gave him a pointed look. “Don’t expect me to join the fan club.”
That only seemed to intrigue him more. “I wasn’t planning on it,” he said. “But how about coffee instead?”
Your eyes narrowed. “You’re asking me out? After knowing me for five minutes?”
“More like six,” he teased, his hands slipping into his pockets. “But yeah. I like your vibe.”
Emily returned at that moment, overhearing the exchange. “Go, I’ll watch the kids. You deserve a break.”
You hesitated. “I don’t think—”
“Go,” Emily insisted, already reaching for Lily. “Seriously. I’ve got this.”
Before you could argue, Lily was out of your arms, and Jack was waving happily as Emily led them away. Austin tilted his head toward the lot exit. “What do you say?”
With a resigned sigh, you followed him.
The café was small and cozy, a short walk from the studio, tucked away from the glitz of the city. You stirred your coffee absently as Austin sat across from you, his gaze steady. He was too attractive for his own good, but you weren’t about to let that rattle you.
“So,” he began, “what’s your story? How’d you end up raising two awesome kids on your own?”
You gave him a guarded smile. “That’s a long story. And not exactly first-date material.”
He nodded, his expression softening. “Fair enough. What should I know about you, then?”
“That I’m a mom first, everything else second. And I’m not looking for… this.” You gestured between the two of you. “Whatever it is.”
“Why not?” he asked, his tone curious rather than pushy.
“Because I’ve been burned before,” you admitted, your voice firm. “And I’m not interested in repeating history.”
Austin leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “I get that. But not everyone’s going to hurt you.”
You met his gaze, something in his sincerity making you falter. “I don’t need saving, Austin.”
“I didn’t say you did,” he replied softly. “But maybe you deserve something good.”
His words hung in the air as you exchanged soft smiles and soon you slipped effortlessly into other topics. He understood your humor with ease, and the way he listened—really listened when you spoke—felt both disarming and endearing.
You got along so well that before you knew it, he smiled and asked for your number. Hesitant and caught off guard by how natural it felt, you found yourself slowly grinning as you typed it into his phone.
By the time you returned to the set, you had convinced yourself it was just a harmless coffee date, not the start of anything real—
Kneeling down to Jack and Lily’s level, his smile was warm and genuine.
“It was great meeting you, Jack,” he said, offering a light fist bump that made your son beam with pride. Then he turned to Lily, his tone soft and playful. “And you, little Lily, take good care of your mom, okay?” He grinned , and she giggled, clutching your leg shyly. Austin cutely winked at you before standing back up, the small gesture almost making you part of his fan club—though you’d never admit it.
Later that evening after you’d settled in from a whirlwind day your phone buzzed. Seeing Austin’s name appear on the screen so soon surprised you, but you picked up quickly brushing your excitement aside.
“Hey,” he greeted, his voice calm and confident. “I just wanted to say I really enjoyed meeting you today… and…” he paused for a moment, his tone carrying a hint of warmth, “I was wondering if you’re available for dinner at the end of the week. You know, so I can steal a little more of your time before you come up with an excuse to avoid me.”
You held back your laugh, and even though the guarded part of you wanted to say no, your curiosity got the better of you. “Dinner, huh? That’s a lot longer than a coffee date. You think you can handle me for that long?” you quipped, keeping your tone playful, even as the flutter in your stomach betrayed your nerves.
His chuckle was rich and smooth. “Oh, I can handle you,” he said, his tone laced with just enough confidence to make your cheeks warm.
You rolled your eyes to avoid showing it, but you couldn’t stop the smile creeping across your face. “Fine, dinner. But don’t think I’m easy to impress,” you said, trying to sound indifferent.
“Noted,” he replied, and you could practically hear the grin in his voice. “Friday at seven?”
“Friday at seven,” you agreed, already mentally running through your list of babysitters.
By Friday evening, you were standing in front of your closet, sighing at the assortment of clothing. Why were you so caught up in what to wear for him?
You settled on a modest yet flattering outfit—a fitted black dress with a low neck and long sleeves. It hugged your waist just enough to feel confident without being over the top. You paired it with simple earrings and ankle boots, letting your natural spark shine through with a subtle rouge lip.
When you arrived downtown at the restaurant it was a modern elegant Italian place with dim lighting and flickering candles reflecting off the polished marble floors and glass walls.
Austin was already there, waiting in the lobby. He looked effortlessly put together in a black shirt and suit jacket that highlighted his broad shoulders and dark jeans. He uncrossed his arms as you approached, a calm smile softening his handsome face.
“You look amazing,” he said, his voice warm and sincere.
“Don’t start,” you replied with a grin, though the way his gaze lingered on you made you feel like you were glowing.
He opened the doors for you and led you into the dining area, an enchanting space housed under a grand dome. The walls were lined with lush, cascading plants, and soft golden lights intertwined with the greenery, creating an ethereal glow.
Overhead, the glass dome revealed the night sky in all its splendor, the stars twinkling like scattered diamonds. The combination of natural beauty and elegance made the atmosphere feel both romantic and magical.
The tables were small and intimate, each adorned with a single candle. As you sat down, you couldn’t help but notice how at ease Austin seemed, his calm demeanor contrasting with your nervous energy.
Over a a few glasses of wine, you found yourself loosening up, your playful side surfacing as you bantered with him.
“So,” he asked, leaning forward slightly, “What was the funniest thing Jack or Lily did this week?”
You grinned, swirling your wine. “Well, Jack decided to wear his Spider-Man pajamas to school the other day and told his teacher he was ready to save the world.”
Austin chuckled, his smile warm and genuine. “He’s in character—I like that,” he said, leaning back slightly. “Kid’s got commitment.”
You could barely contain your laugh. “Well then, you’ll really enjoy this—Lily has convinced herself she’s a cat. Full meowing and everything.”
You both laughed, the sound deep and genuine, filling the cozy space between you. Austin shook his head, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “The kids are their own little variety show. I can see why you’re smiling all the time,” he said, his tone warm and sincere.
“You have no idea,” you replied, your guard slipping as the conversation flowed. “They’re my world.”
“I can see that,” he said, his tone softening. “You’re an incredible mom.”
The compliment caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. You looked down, taking a sip of your wine to compose yourself. “Thanks,” you said finally, your voice quieter.
By the time the plates were cleared, the conversation had shifted to everything from your childhood memories to guilty pleasure movies. His calm, patient presence coaxed you out of your shell, and before long, you were laughing so hard you nearly spilled your drink.
After dinner as you stepped outside into the crisp evening air, you turned to him, your cheeks slightly flushed from the wine and laughter. “Okay, I’ll admit it,” you said with a teasing smile. “I was really impressed this evening Austin.”
“I’ll take that as high praise,” he smiled, his eyes sparkling as he stepped closer. “But I think I can do better.”
Before you could respond, he leaned in, his lips kissing yours softly at first, as if waiting for permission.
You froze for a split second, caught off guard that it was even happening, but then you melted into the kiss, clutching his firm arms to steady yourself. His scent was warm and woodsy, with hints of vanilla and bourbon, and the way he held you made your heart race.
When he pulled back, you blinked up at him, trying to gather your thoughts. “I…uh… that was so.. h—unexpected,” you said, your tone uncertain as your voice trembled slightly.
“Was it bad?” he asked with a playful smirk.
“No!” you blurted out too quickly. “No, it wasn’t bad at all, Austin… it was so good—it was really good . I just—”
Before you could finish, he leaned in and kissed you again, this time with even more intensity.
His hand cupped your cheek, steady and warm, as his lips moved against yours. Your entire body relaxed as the kiss deepened, your mouth sliding over his in a way that made your thoughts scatter.
He tasted so good—like wine and something unmistakably him. He felt so good, so irresistible, that it made you frantic, your hands gripping his jacket as you leaned closer, consumed by the fire of his intensity.
His other hand found your waist, anchoring you as your kisses grew more heated, your mouths moving together like you couldn’t get enough of each other. The world around you blurred, reduced to the warmth of his touch and the way he made you feel, and for the first time in a long time you were unmistakably aroused
With a soft gasp, you pulled back, your chest rising and falling, breathless, your mind spinning. “I—I should go,” you said quickly, avoiding his eyes as you tried to compose yourself.
Austin tilted his head slightly, concern flickering across his face. “Are you alright?” he asked, as his thumb stroked your cheek gently.
His voice was calm and patient, his tone making it impossible to ignore the genuine care in his words.
“Yes,” you nodded, forcing a smile. “I’m fine. Really. Just—it’s late.”
“Alright,” he said with a soft smile and without hesitation, he walked with you toward the valet stand.
As you waited for your cars, he stayed close, his fingers brushed against your shoulder lightly at first then, his hand slid lower, resting gently on your waist, his thumb grazing your hip absentmindedly. The casual intimacy of it made your stomach flip, as the entire time, all you could think about was how badly you wanted to climb him like a tree.
Your car arrived first, and as the valet opened the door, you turned to him. Unable to resist, you leaned in for a quick hug, your arms wrapping around his firm chest. The scent of him—warm, woodsy, and undeniably intoxicating—filled your senses, and for a brief moment, you let yourself get lost in it, your mind overtaken by the smell of him.
When you pulled back, his eyes searched yours, affectionate and soft, like he was trying to understand what you were thinking.
“Good night,” you said, your voice soft and reluctant, lingering in the air between you.
“Good night,” he replied, his tone low and smooth, laced with a quiet intensity that made your stomach flutter. His eyes lingered on yours, and the way his lips curved into a subtle, knowing smile felt almost seductive, as though he was daring you to stay just a moment longer.
You bit your lip as you stepped back, resisting the overwhelming urge to close the distance between you and kiss him again.
Instead, you turned quickly and climbed into your car, your hands gripping the wheel tightly. As you drove away, you glanced back at him in your rearview mirror, his tall figure still standing there, watching you leave. His scent still clung to you, warm and intoxicating, and your mind raced with thoughts you weren’t quite ready to face.
Over the next few weeks, Austin was extremely busy with filming, but he still found little ways to remain a part of your life.
You were busy with work and wrangling your little ones, but the two of you FaceTimed when you could, and every time, he made a point to say hi to Jack and Lily. They adored him, and his genuine warmth toward them made it harder for you to keep your guard up.
One evening, he asked for your address and casually suggested a playdate. “If it’s okay, I’d love to take you and the kids somewhere fun,” he said, his voice calm but hopeful. You hesitated for only a moment before agreeing. His excitement was contagious.
On Saturday, Austin picked the three of you up and drove to a sprawling outdoor park with a petting zoo, a huge playground, and plenty of open space. The day was crisp and sunny, and the laughter of children filled the air. Jack and Lily were wide eyed with excitement as they took in the colorful slides, swings, and the fenced area with goats and bunnies.
Austin was a natural. He jumped right into the action, helping Jack climb the rock wall on the playground and pushing Lily on the swings, her giggles echoing through the park. “Higher, Austin!” she squealed, and he laughed, obliging her with a playful grin.
When they wandered over to the petting zoo, Austin crouched down with Lily, gently showing her how to hold out her hand for a baby bunny to nibble on. “See? Just like this,” he said, his tone patient and encouraging. Jack ran up, curious, and Austin seamlessly shifted his attention, answering Jack’s million questions about the animals with the same enthusiasm.
The whole time, he was equally attentive to you. He carried Lily when she got tired, helped Jack when he scraped his knee, and made sure you had a moment to breathe.
“You okay?” he asked softly when the kids were momentarily distracted, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder, his blue eyes full of quiet concern.
You nodded, a warm smile spreading across your face. “I’m fine,” you said, your voice soft but genuine. “This… this is wonderful.”
His lips curved into a gentle smile before he leaned in, brushing an encouraging, kiss against your lips. The tenderness of it, the way he made you feel so seen and cared for, made your heart flutter and left you completely swooning. You barely managed to catch your breath before he pulled back, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned back to check on the kids.
By the end of the day, the kids were tired but beaming, their hands sticky from ice cream cones Austin had insisted on treating them to. Jack climbed onto his back without hesitation, declaring him “the coolest grown-up ever,” while Lily clung to his hand, refusing to let go.
On the drive home, the kids fell asleep in the backseat, and you turned to him, overwhelmed by how effortlessly he had fit into your little world. “You’re really good with them,” you said softly, watching as his lips curved into a small smile.
“They’re great kids,” he replied, glancing at you for a moment before focusing back on the road. “And you’re an amazing mom. It’s easy to see why they’re so special.”
You didn’t know how to respond, so you just smiled, the warmth of his words lingering in your chest. By the time he dropped you off, you realized something you hadn’t let yourself admit before—Austin wasn’t just charming or fun. He was something more, something steady, someone you could rely on.
The next week, Emily called, insisting on coming over for wine in the evening . When she arrived, she was practically glowing, a bottle of your favorite wine in one hand and gifts in the other.
“Okay, don’t kill me, but I’m just the delivery person here,” she said with a grin as she stepped inside. She placed the wine on the counter and held up the items in her arms. “This,” she said, presenting the remote-controlled car, “is for Jack. Austin heard he lost the remote to his old one and said no kid should be without a car they can crash into furniture.”
You rolled your eyes, but your lips twitched into a reluctant smile. “Of course he did.”
“And this,” she continued, holding up a handmade bunny quilt, “is for Lily. Austin found it at some little shop and said it reminded him of her. Thought it would be perfect for her to snuggle with.”
Your chest tightened despite yourself, but you kept your expression neutral. “That’s… thoughtful.”
“Oh, and the wine?” Emily added, gesturing to the bottle on the counter. “That’s from him, too. He said, and I quote, ‘Moms deserve their favorites, too.’”
You sighed softly, shaking your head, but couldn’t entirely stop the smile spreading across your lips.
Every heartfelt gesture from Austin chipped away at your defenses, despite your best efforts to resist.
Later that night, Jack was already asleep when you peeked into his room. He was clutching the new remote-controlled car to his chest, his little face peaceful in the dim glow of his nightlight. You smiled softly, adjusting the blanket over him before stepping out.
In Lily’s room, Emily was already there, kneeling beside the bed as she tucked the bunny quilt from Austin snugly around her.
Lily smiled sleepily, murmuring something incoherent about ‘ her bunny blanky” before drifting off. You leaned against the doorway for a moment, watching Emily smooth the blanket gently over Lily’s tiny form, a look of affection on her face.
You stepped into the room quietly, standing beside Emily as the two of you looked down at Lily, her breathing soft and even.
“She’s adorable,” Emily whispered, her voice low so as not to wake her. “Just like Jack.”
You nodded, a faint smile on your lips.
Emily glanced at you, her expression shifting to something more serious. “Austin is entirely smitten with you, you know,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “And honestly? You should give him a chance. He’s a good guy.”
You sighed, your gaze fixed on Lily’s peaceful face. “Good guys don’t exist,” you muttered, almost to yourself.
“They do,” Emily said, her tone firm but gentle. “And he’s one of them.”
The two of you stood there for a moment longer, the quiet of the room settling around your thoughts, and despite your best efforts, they drifted to Austin.
His thoughtful gestures, his warm smile, the way he spoke to Jack and Lily like they were the most important people in the world—it all tugged at something deep inside you.
Over the next month, each date with Austin chipped away at your walls. Whether it was sharing stories over dinner, walking through the park hand-in-hand, or watching a movie with Jack and Lily nestled between you, he made every moment feel meaningful.
The kisses grew deeper, more frequent, and harder to pull away from, leaving you breathless each time. He never rushed you, but his quiet patience and unwavering care made it impossible not to feel safe with him. Slowly, you began to trust him, to let him into the spaces you’d kept so carefully guarded.
One evening, as the kids were decorating a small Christmas tree in the living room, Austin sat beside you on the couch, the glow of the twinkling lights casting a soft warmth over his face.
Christmas had always been a stressful time for you. Your ex had made it that way, his constant criticism, belittling remarks, and refusal to help turning what should have been a joyous season into a source of dread. The kids had felt it too, the tension in the air overshadowing their excitement.
It had left you doing everything you could to distract and shield Jack and Lily from his moods. Even now, the memories of those Christmases lingered, making it hard to feel the holiday spirit.
“Christmas is a few weeks away,” Austin chimed in, his voice calm but with a hint of nervousness. “And I know this time of year isn’t always easy for you…” He said his hand rested gently on your knee, his thumb brushing against it. “But…I was thinking—what if you and the kids spent the holidays with me? At my villa in the mountains.”
You blinked, caught off guard. “Your villa?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.
He smiled, leaning slightly closer. “Yeah. It’s quiet, peaceful. There’s a big fireplace, snow-covered hills, and even a spot for sledding. Jack and Lily would love it. And… I’d really like to spend Christmas with all of you.”
You hesitated, glancing toward the kids, who were now deciding over the placement of an ornament. The idea was tempting, but memories of past holidays made you pause. “Austin, I don’t know…”
His fingers tightened slightly on your knee, his gaze steady. “You deserve a Christmas that feels good. And so do the kids. Let me give that to you.”
The sincerity in his voice made you take a deep breath. You looked at him, his hopeful expression, and couldn’t help but give in. “Okay,” you said softly, nodding. “We’ll spend Christmas with you.”
His grin was immediate, lighting up his entire face. “You won’t regret it,” he promised, leaning in to press a tender kiss to your lips.
The drive to the mountains from the airport was an exciting drive. Jack could barely stay still, practically bouncing in his seat as Austin navigated the winding snowy roads. Lily, strapped in her car seat, clapped her tiny hands together every so often, babbling happily about “ big trees” as the snow-covered forest grew thicker with every mile.
When the cabin finally came into view, your breath caught. It was stunning—a sleek, modern design with large glass windows that reflected the surrounding snow-covered landscape. Nestled in a lake bed, the cabin was surrounded by towering evergreens dusted with fresh snow. The lake itself was frozen, shimmering like glass in the crisp winter light.
“Wow,” Jack breathed, pressing his face to the window. “Mom, look at all the snow!”
“It’s beautiful,” you confessed, your voice soft with awe as you stared at the serene scene in front of you.
Austin pulled into the driveway, his grin wide and full of joy as he glanced at you. “Wait until you see the inside,” he said, stepping out of the car and immediately opening the door for you and the kids. “C’mon, Jack. Let’s get your sister.”
Jack scrambled out, immediately grabbing handfuls of snow. “Ahhh It’s so cold!” he exclaimed, laughing as he threw it into the air.
Austin chuckled, unbuckling Lily and lifting her into his arms. She let out a delighted squeal, pointing at the snow with her tiny fingers. “Snow snow snow!” she babbled, her cheeks pink from the cold.
“It’s cold, sweetheart,” Austin said softly, pulling her scarf higher as he carried her toward the cabin. “Let’s get you inside where it’s warm.”
The cabin’s interior was just as breathtaking as the exterior. The open floor plan had a large stone fireplace in the living area, with cozy furniture arranged around it. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the snowy landscape, and a fully decorated Christmas tree stood in the corner, twinkling with lights.
“This is…” You trailed off, taking it all in. “Austin, this is amazing.”
He adjusted Lily on his hip and smiled. “I wanted it to feel special—for all of you.”
Jack immediately began exploring, his excitement infectious as he darted from room to room. “Mom! There’s a bunk bed! And a big kitchen!” he called out, his voice echoing through the space.
Austin laughed as he watched Jack with a proud expression. “I think he approves.”
You smiled, shaking your head. “I think we all do.”
The next few days were filled with moments that felt like magic.
Jack and Lily experienced snow fall for the first time, their laughter filling the air as Austin pulled them on sleds down gentle hills near the cabin.
Jack insisted on building the biggest snowman ever, and Austin happily obliged, rolling snow into giant mounds while Lily giggled, toddling after him and attempting to help with her tiny mittens.
Later, you all sat inside by the fire, steaming mugs of hot cocoa in hand. Lily held her sippy cup with both hands, sipping carefully, while Jack sat cross-legged on the floor, playing with his toys.
The warmth of the fire wrapped around you, and for the first time in years, you felt the tension of the holidays melt away.
Austin sat beside you, his eyes soft as he watched Jack and Lily. “They’re amazing, you know,” he said, his voice low and full of emotion.
“They are,” you agreed, glancing at him. You couldn’t help but look at him with affection, your heart swelling at how effortlessly he fit into your little family. Without thinking, you brought your legs over his lap. He smiled at the gesture, his hand resting on your knee, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb,
“You look so happy,” he said, his tone light but sincere. “It looks beautiful on you.”
You felt your cheeks warm and looked away, watching the kids. “I am happy,” you admitted softly. “This… this is all so perfect.”
He pulled you closer, his thumb brushing over your waist. “You deserve perfect, you know that? And so do they.”
You turned to him, your heart catching in your chest. “Austin…”
Before you could finish, Jack looked up from his toys. “Can we go sledding again tomorrow?” he asked, his face full of hope.
Austin grinned, his smile warm and genuine. “Now that you know how we can even have a race tomorrow.” He said excitedly.
Jack whooped with happiness, and even Lily let out a tiny squeal of approval, clapping her hands together with delight.
Later that night, as the snow fell lightly outside, you watched Austin tuck the kids into bed with a tenderness that melted your heart.
He listened intently to Jack’s excited chatter about sled racing and gently adjusted Lily’s bunny quilt as she murmured sleepily. The way he handled everything with such care stirred emotions within you that you had never fully allowed yourself to feel for him.
Quietly, you slipped away, heading to your room. After a warm, soothing bath, you wrapped yourself in a robe and walked to the dresser. Nerves overtaking you as you opened the drawer, your eyes falling on the lingerie you’d packed but had been dreading to wear.
It was simple yet elegant—a soft, black lace slip that hugged your curves just enough to make you question if you could really go through with it. You stood there for a moment, hesitating, your heart pounding in your chest as you wrestled with both excitement and uncertainty.
After the kids were sound asleep, you gathered your courage and walked down the hall in your lingerie slip toward Austin’s bedroom.
Your heart pounded as you hesitated at the doorway, nerves fluttering wildly in your stomach.
You raised your hand and gently knocked, the sound somehow louder in the quiet house. For a brief moment, you thought about retreating, but before you could, his calm, deep voice called out.
“You don’t have to knock,” he said softly, his tone warm and inviting.
Stepping inside, the room was bathed in the soft glow of the crackling fireplace, the flickering light casting shadows across the walls.
Austin stood near the foot of the bed, dressed in gray sweats and a simple white t-shirt. His sandy blonde hair was slightly tousled, and his blue eyes, illuminated by the firelight, were filled with tenderness as they locked on yours.
“I don’t know how to do this,” you admitted quietly, taking a hesitant step forward.
His expression softened, and he crossed the room to you, taking your hands gently in his. His palms were warm and grounding, his thumbs brushing lightly over your knuckles. “Just cuddle with me ,” he said, his voice steady and reassuring.
You smiled as he led you to the bed and sat down with you. He laid back, propping himself up on one elbow, and gently pulled you down beside him. The closeness of his presence calmed you, and as you rested your head against his firm chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat grounded you in the moment as you both looked at the fire place.
“I care about you so much,” he said after a long silence, his fingers lightly tracing circles on your arm. “You, Jack, Lily—you’re everything to me now.”
You looked up at him, your heart swelling as his words washed over you. “Austin…” you whispered, unable to find the right words, but the way you gazed at him said everything.
He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before his hand slid to your jaw, his touch gentle but firm, as he tilted your chin up.
Then he kissed your lips—heartfelt and tender—as he brushed them softly against yours, his movements were unhurried and full of emotion.
You whimpered into his kiss, eager and unable to hold back. Your hands trailed up his strong neck, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, kissing him deeper, needing more.
His other hand rested on your stomach, his fingers brushing the lace of your slip. Slowly, he let his hand wander lower, testing your reaction. You didn’t stop him—in fact, you arched slightly, giving him permission, and his hand slipped into your panties just as his tongue slipped into your mouth, the dual sensations drawing a soft moan from your lips.
He glided his fingers up and down your wetness, each movement deliberate and teasing. Your body responded eagerly, and when he pushed two fingers inside, a gasp escaped you. You kissed him deeper, your lips parting for him as his tongue matched the rhythm of his hand, the intimacy leaving you trembling and craving more.
Your breaths grew ragged as his long, deft fingers curled deep inside you in a way that made you see stars. You cupped his jaw, pulling him closer, devouring his mouth hungrily as your hips moved against his hand. His other hand tugged the strap of your slip down, exposing your breast, and he wasted no time lowering his lips to it.
His mouth was warm and wet as he sucked your nipple, his tongue flicking the sensitive peak with precision. He alternated between soft teasing pulls and harder deeper sucks that made you cry out softly, your hands gripping his shoulders.
You couldn’t hold back any longer, your moans turning into soft, broken cries of pleasure as his fingers moved faster, as his mouth sucked your nipples. Your vision blurred, and every nerve in your body seemed to ignite as waves of pleasure rippled through you. “Oh, Austin—Austin!” you gasped, your hips pushing up involuntarily as you orgasmed the release sending tingles through every inch of your body.
Your breaths came in desperate, shuddering gasps of pleasure as he kept his fingers inside you, kissing his way down your trembling body, his lips warm and gentle as they pressed along your thighs.
He pulled your panties down slowly, his gaze lingering on you with a mix of desire and reverence as his mouth lowered on to your clit. His tongue flicked and circled with expert precision as his fingers continued thrusting inside you. You babbled incoherently, unable to form words as your body writhed beneath him, the intensity of his touch consuming you entirely.
Just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, he slipped his fingers out, replacing them with his mouth, his tongue working you over with devastating skill.
His movements pushed you over the edge as another powerful orgasm tore through you, your cries of his name echoing in the room as your body shuddered beneath him.
When he finally pulled back, you were breathless, your body limp and your core throbbing.
He climbed back up, his eyes filled with affection and lust as he stripped off his shirt, revealing his sculpted chest and strong, defined abs. You couldn’t stop the soft “yes, yes,” that slipped from your lips as you tugged off your lingerie and slid out of your panties in return. Then you spread your legs open for him, lying fully exposed on his bed.
He smiled, his voice low and full of promise. “I’m going to take my time with you,” he said, his blue eyes locked on yours as he pushed down his sweats.
You nodded, your voice trembling with need . “Take whatever you want Austin.” You breathed.
His smile widened as he leaned down, kissing you. “That’s what I love about you,” he whispered against your lips. “You give yourself so completely—so openly—when you finally let go for me. It makes me want to protect that trust with everything I have.”
His words made you gasp against his lips. You couldn’t respond at first, your breath caught in your throat as his hand cupped your face, his thumb brushing your cheek. “Give me all of you,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with longing. “Every part of you. I’ll take care of it—I’ll take care of you. I promise.”
“Yes,” you breathed, your voice trembling with emotion. “Yes… please, yes.” Your hands reached up, threading into his hair, pulling him closer as if you couldn’t bear to let him go. “Take all of me,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you surrendered completely.
He aligned his cock to your slick wet entrance and pushed in slowly, the stretch making your eyes flutter shut as you took all of him inch by inch.
He groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating through his chest as he stilled letting you adjust to his size. His hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples, eliciting soft gasps from you as he slowly began to thrust.
Every coherent thought left your mind, replaced by the overwhelming sensation of him—his size, his warmth, the way he filled you so completely. His mouth claimed yours, devouring it hungrily, and your moans were muffled against his lips, soft and pleading as you melted beneath him.
When you became breathless, he pulled back, his lips brushing over your jaw before lowering to your chest. He hunched over you, lowering his mouth to your breasts, sucking each nipple softly at first, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peaks licking in slow, strokes. Then, as his thrusts grew deeper, his mouth became more insistent, lapping and sucking at your breasts as though he couldn’t get enough of you.
The rhythmic sounds of your wetness filled the room, mixing with the slap of his narrow hips between your legs. He groaned loudly, his voice thick with arousal. “Fuck— you feel —so good —I can hardly think” he whispered against your skin, his words broken by heavy breaths.
He thrust harder, his cock twitching inside you with every movement, his satisfaction undeniable. His breaths came in ragged gasps as he pressed deeper, each thrust more forceful, his voice low and guttural. “I can’t… I can’t get enough of you,” he praised, his tone filled with raw need. His hands gripped your hips firmly, pulling you closer the pressure of his cock filling you even more, making you feel completely claimed, entirely his.
Your thighs instinctively squeezed against his hips, and he groaned again, louder this time, his voice unrestrained. “Oh fuck,” he gasped, his pace quickening.
Pulling back slightly, he rested on his elbows, his blue eyes blazing with intensity as he lifted to look between your bodies.
You looked down, your breath catching at the sight of his thick cock disappearing into you, stretching and filling you completely, creating a visible bulge in your abdomen with each deliberate thrust.
The sight alone sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, making your thighs tremble as your walls clenched tightly around him. His breaths came harder, his groans breaking as he thrust faster.
“You make me feel so complete,” he whispered, his voice rough and trembling with desire, his gaze locked on yours as if you were the only thing in the world. “I love us… I love this… so much.” His words were filled with reverence, laced with the raw need that fueled every thrust.
His cock twitched inside you again, and you moaned in response, your body arching to meet his as he pressed forward, his lips finding yours once more, capturing every sound of pleasure that escaped you.
You were, unable to speak as your moans overtook you, your body moving in perfect rhythm with his.
The sensation built higher and higher until you both reached your peak, and your orgasm shattered through you leaving you gasping as your vision blurred. You cried out his name, your body tightening and trembling as the intensity consumed you completely.
Feeling your walls tighten around him, he groaned deeply, his hips faltering as his own climax followed. His come spilled into you as he called out your name, his voice rough and trembling with pleasure. The sensation made you cling to him, your arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders as you pulled him down for a deep, heated kiss.
Your tongues tangled desperately, the kiss full of shared intimacy and raw emotion, as your bodies moved together, covered in a light sheen of sweat.
His kisses were slow and heated as his hands traced a path that left you breathless, making you feel cherished in a way you’d never experienced before. As you came down, the sensation was all-consuming, leaving you trembling in his arms.
He held you close, his lips brushing your temple. “You’ve got me,” he whispered, his voice low and steady. “All of me.”
You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest as his words washed over you. “I want all of you,” you whispered back, your voice soft but filled with conviction. “Every piece.”
The weight of your own words settled between you, and for the first time in a long time, you felt something crack open inside you—love. This wasn’t just passion or a fleeting connection; it was something deeper… it was real. His arms around you felt like home, his steady heartbeat against yours like a rhythm you’d been searching for your entire life.
His thumbs caressed your hips as he slowly, carefully pulled out but the sensation left a soft ache, a reminder of how completely he had filled you.
He rested his head against your neck, his breath warm and uneven against your skin, and you instinctively brought your fingers to his hair, holding him close. His chest pressed against yours, grounding you in the intimacy of the moment.
After a few quiet breaths, his voice broke the silence, soft and a little hesitant. “I know you don’t want more kids right now,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your collarbone. “But… do you think you’d ever want more one day?”
You paused, your fingers lightly threading through his hair as you considered his question. A gentle smile tugged at your lips as you answered, “If I were married… then yes, maybe.”
He let out a quiet, thoughtful hum, and instead of responding right away, he nuzzled back into your neck, his lips pressing softly against your skin. “Married,” he murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of affection and quiet contemplation.
He didn’t say anything more, just held you close, his breath warm against your neck, letting the moment speak for itself.
As you closed your eyes a small, contented smile crossed your lips. Austin was the was the start of something real and something you were finally ready to believe in.
Two years later, you stand hand-in-hand with Austin in the cabin, the same one where everything truly began. Lily dances around your feet, giggling as Jack chases her with a toy airplane. Your gaze drifts to your wedding ring, the diamond catching the soft glow of the setting sun filtering through the large windows.
Austin’s hand slides lovingly over your growing belly, his touch gentle but protective, as if cradling the life you are creating together. His blue eyes soften as he looks at you, a small smile playing on his lips.
As the sun dips lower, casting golden hues across the frozen lake, he leans in, his forehead resting against yours for a moment before his lips brush yours in a tender kiss. “Together forever,” he murmurs, his voice low and full of promise.
And forever, with him, feels exactly right
🎄 THE END 💕
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kurooh · 4 hours ago
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❆ SLEIGH RIDE !
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KINKMAS 2024 — christmas choking + suguru geto
❆ desc. your first time on a sleigh being pulled by curses is supposed to remain on the ground, but you quickly find yourself above ground and atop something else. ready to become a member of the mile high club?
❆ warnings. 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, cunnilingus, choking, sex in the air, some asphyxiation, gojo cameo, creampie, fluff. | 3.9k words
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geto suguru has never been on a sleigh. 
he has never seen one in action or outside of a television screen. hell, he didn’t even know the difference between sleighs and sleds! until you convinced him to hunt down a few reindeer-like curses and fix up an old sleigh from a yard sale.
the thing was a shell of itself, with red paint flaking off all sides and creaking loudly each time it was pushed so much as an inch. when you worked together tirelessly to restore the sleigh so it could be a neat lawn decoration, you’d pitched a brilliant idea to him — why not absorb some suitable curses to pull the sleigh around?
fractions of the waning sunlight shine on the fluffy snow and highlight the new quality of the sleigh’s red paint. wispy curses gallop ahead, pulling the sleigh steadily, and snow crunches beneath their hooves. their bodies are tangled with green loops of rope, a cursed tool that attaches them to the sleigh and acts as a harness.
this is sweet, like the candy canes that suguru loves in the winter and the smell of the candles you’re planning to give him for christmas. you look ahead, silently savoring his company and the idyllic scene. it’s like you’ve just jumped into a photo on pinterest—you’ve got the clothes, sleigh, surroundings, and man to boot.
“my girl looks so pretty when she’s smiling,” suguru says softly, a playful sparkle in his eyes. “let me guess, is it the sleigh ride? or me?”
the gentle jingling of the sleigh bells grows distant as you turn toward him with a laugh, catching his eyes. “both. the scenery is beautiful, and so are you.”
he sticks out his tongue, rolling his eyes dramatically. “bleh, beautiful? really?”
“fine. handsome, sexy, attractive, delicious,” with each word, you lean an inch closer until your lips are so close and yet so far apart. your breath warms the small space between you and gets his heart picking up its pace. “is that better, sugu?”
“definitely, sweetheart,” suguru replies, cheeks heating up despite the cold air. “are you gonna kiss me or do i have to make the first move, like always?”
“oh, i was just teasing you,” you titter, pulling back the moment his fingertips ghost along your cheek. he throws you an offended glance, tipping his head up and jutting his chin out. “don’t look at me like that, you do this to me all the time.”
suguru shrugs nonchalantly, keeping his eyes ahead and focused on the reindeer-ish curses. a plethora of colors paints the sky as the sun disappears beyond the horizon, the temporary dawn illuminating the backs of the curses and emphasizing the shadows on the snow. a small bump in the otherwise smooth ride is just the beginning—a moment later, there seems to be a sudden choppiness that bucks you nearly a foot up off the bench. 
it seems like the runners have gotten caught on something, making the curses stumble off kilter. the sleigh swerves to the side and so do you with a startled gasp, right into suguru’s awaiting arms (and lap). he steals a kiss to your cheek, and the chaste action sends a ripple of heat through your body.
“seems like there’s been some turbulence,” suguru comments, his voice low near your ear.
“oh,” you flounder for something to say instead of moving off his lap, at a loss for words now that the little tease has been flipped on its head. “i wasn’t holding on, and the curses, they—they probably tripped.”
“they look fine to me,” he whispers, nodding towards the recovered curses in question. it’s as if they’d never stumbled in the first place. “it’s not like you tried to stop yourself.”
instead of coming up with some annoying, sly answer, you’re busy being consumed by suguru’s heated gaze. the desire is painfully obvious in those pretty eyes of his, and in those explorative touches along your back that make you shiver. he’s got his hands beneath your fluffy winter coat and on your skin, his fingers heating you up much faster than the downy material. 
“give me that kiss,” he almost demands, a pleading edge to his voice. “i caught you, didn’t i?”
at first, your lips meet gently—a soft touch that makes the world around you disappear. to encourage you closer, suguru’s hand lightly cradles your face, the pad of his thumb gingerly brushing over your jaw. for a moment, the kiss is full of something tender and sweet, but then something shifts into place and it deepens.
your breath catches in your throat as his lips move against yours urgently, right before he slips his tongue between your parted lips. your hands can’t help but seek purchase in his neatly bound hair, fingers pulling the dark tresses from their hold and tugging. he groans into your mouth, his cock hardening in his pants; the close proximity instills a sweltering heat inside you that radiates through your clothing and pools into your panties. 
the once frigid air now crackles with a certain electricity; he’s hot and hard beneath you, which is something that melts your inhibitions away like snow near a fireplace. are you actually about to cast away the cuteness of a sleigh ride in favor of something utterly filthy? yes, you are — and you don’t regret it one bit. clearly, suguru doesn’t either, not with the way he’s impatiently shifting you around on his lap.
“move your hips f’me, baby,” he grunts, nose bumping into yours when he comes up for air, his hands settling on each side of your waist. “show me how much you want this cock, hm?”
“o-okay,” you pant, chasing after his lips while you roll your hips onto him. god, you’re already soaking wet, just from weakly humping his clothed cock. whiny moans pour from your lips and he hushes you with endless kisses, along with a splayed hand at the small of your back, which guides you whenever you start to slow down.
the curses race onwards, and there’s a little more turbulence before there’s nothing at all. literally, nothing at all—confused, you crack open an eye, movements pausing as you take in your surroundings. just like magic, the sleigh is rising off the ground and being pulled into the dark sky. 
you’re trembling on suguru’s lap, half startled and half turned on. only he could have this effect on you, making you drip wetter with excitement at the prospect of flying into the clouds. the hand that was once resting on the small of your back now pushes into your skin insistently, and suguru’s acting as though you’re still on the ground, completely unfazed.
“why’d you stop, sweetheart? is something the matter?” the corners of his lips curl into a mischievous smile as he protectively hugs you closer. 
“we’re in the sky,” you swallow slowly, fingers absentmindedly toying with the metal button of his pants. silky, sable tresses blow in the air like thick ribbons behind him, and the comforting scent of his shampoo wafts into your face. “did you tell them to—what the hell even happened?”
suguru clasps your hands together with his own, helping you undo the button. he’s unbothered as he works the zipper down before moving onto what you’re wearing. “i suppose they brought us up here on their own,” he lifts you off of his lap, ignoring the small scream that tears from your throat. instead of letting you slip and fall out of the sleigh, suguru sits you down on the bench and sinks to his knees. 
dark pupils dilate against amethyst irises, his heavy gaze fixed on what’s between your thighs. yes, his favorite christmas gift; suguru could probably pass as santa claus, with how often he eats a certain cookie...
you’re trembling as suguru slowly peels the thin panties away from your wet cunt, his eyes hungrily following the glossy strings of slick that move with the material. brisk wind rushes into your face, and your eyes flutter shut in an attempt to resist the discomfort. 
“hey, it’s cold up here,” you complain, letting him pull your hips up to his face. you’re like putty in his hands and effortlessly giving in to him—suguru notices, and he’s ready to reward you. “my nose is—shit,” you gasp, breath catching in your throat when his tongue flicks through your sticky folds. 
“your nose is cold, honey?” he supplies, finishing your sentence for you while buried between your splayed legs. “tuck your face into your coat.”
all too soon, you’re reduced to a dumb, babbling mess—but this is what always happens when suguru’s between your thighs, eating your pussy like he’s been starving for days. that silky tongue of his roughly pushes into you, and his eyes dart up to yours in a silent command. 
use me, that look reads, and who are you to defy him?
with a breathless moan, you brace yourself with a hand in his hair and the other planted on the bench. “mmm, fuuck—was this what you’d been planning since we got into this thing?”
“maybe,” suguru murmurs coyly, smacking his lips before taking your clit between them. his cold, slick fingers nudge against your hot pussy when he slides them inside. the dichotomy between the temperatures makes your eyes roll back into your skull as you weakly thrust against his face. 
above the thin clouds, you’re only able to see the bright moon and the dimmed lights of the city beneath. you shakily inhale, surprised by the lack of oxygen this high up; each breath is more elusive the harder you pant, and it makes your head spin in a way that compliments suguru’s ministrations.
the tip of his nose brushes against your pelvic bone and he finds that he has trouble breathing too. he quickly forgets about the whole thing once he spits onto your clit, watching the shimmery glob trail down your slit and onto his fingers. your chest heaves in effort and you close your eyes, pushing suguru’s head deeper.
“mmmph, baby,” he moans wetly, grasping with his free hand to pull your body closer. “y-you’re always so fuckin’ hot, shit.”
oh, that’s right. it’s freezing up in the sky, but suguru’s like a match, keeping your fire stoked and fueling his own. 
your head weakly rests against the backing of the bench, lips parting around countless moans of ah’s and ooh’s. suguru’s shoulders shake as he devours you, the wind blowing his hair onto your thighs or against your tummy. it tickles, and because of the sensitivity, it’s also extremely stimulating—your hips jerk forward, clit throbbing between his lips.
as your cunt sporadically clenches around his relentless fingers, you feel your back arching up and off the bench, thighs squeezing tightly around his head. 
“h-hey, sugu,” you whimper breathlessly, “god, fuckkk—gonna cum, ‘m so close,” that unadulterated desperation in your voice sparks something inside him, something that compels him to yank you forward so he can really dive in. 
suguru’s smacking and licking sloppily at your overstimulated cunt, pushing you right off the edge and carrying you through the fall. a euphoric cry tears from your throat as you shudder uncontrollably, panting out clouds into the air. when you finally release him, his face is a complete mess—rosy cheeks glossy with wetness, nose and mouth smeared with sticky cream. 
and his eyes—they’re sparkling like he’s just opened the best christmas gift ever, some kind of horny joy shining in his violet irises. 
“s-shit,” you exhale, drunk on him as much as he is you, “we need to go down a ‘lil, can’t breathe.”
suguru lets out a small laugh at your slurred words, wiping a hand across his face while the curses start to gallop downwards at a slow pace. he sidles up beside you on the bench, making no move to pull your pants up for you. 
“that’s not fair,” you shiver, blindly rifling around for your panties if they haven’t fallen out of the sleigh. “y-you’ve still got all your clothes on.”
he tugs you toward him, effectively halting your search for the panties. “sweetheart, i’m nowhere near finished with you.”
“yeah?” you snark, teeth chattering, “gonna even the playing field and strip down too?”
“already taken care of,” he hums, pulling you into his lap. suguru’s boxers and pants are bunched at his knees and you’re mere inches away from his cock. damn, he must’ve done all that while you were talking to him.. again and again, he proves he’s great with his fingers.
“be a good girl ‘n sit down on it,” he huffs, an arm wrapped around you while he holds his cock upright by the base. with the moon behind you as your only source of light, though dim, you can see the thick outline of his length and even the veins that run along it. it’s always a stretch with him, and you sniffle out a whine as you slowly sink down.
“what a greedy fucking pussy,” suguru bites out, watching as it swallows inch after inch of his cock. once he finally bottoms out inside you, tip flush against your cervix, you’re both groaning, although he’s much louder than you.
“god, you’re just the gift that keeps on giving.”
you clumsily paw at his shoulders, mewling when he gifts your bare ass with a smack. it already stings, and the cool air immediately rushes over the skin, providing a few extra licks of pain. suguru lightly nips at your neck, tongue flicking behind your earlobe.
“ride it, sweetheart. don’t make me have to help you out, ‘kay?”
you nod, teeth sinking into your lower lip. he’s so damn deep, filling you up and stretching you out all at once. slowly, you raise your hips and steady yourself; then you’re starting to bounce on his cock, feeling each punchy thrust right into your cervix. 
“sugu—oooh! f-fuck, ngh,” you’re breathing hard and sucking up the thin air, sweat beading on your forehead as you exert yourself. no longer are the sleigh bells jingling softly; instead, they’re rattling against the wood because of the high speed. but with his cock inside you, making your tummy bulge just a little, you’re unable to fully comprehend the fact that you’re racing through the sky. 
sable tresses drape over the edge of the bench, tangling in the blowing wind and flying into your faces. suguru’s gasping, and his flushed lips are kissing away the drool that seeps from the corner of your lips. 
he feels amazing, but it’s nearly impossible to fight off the exhaustion that settles in your limbs and prepares to stay. the once loud smacks of skin against skin and wet squelches begin to diminish quickly as you wilt against him, head hanging over his shoulder tiredly.
“‘m sorry, sugu,” you cry, feeling the tingling sparks of euphoria dissipating inside you, “i really—oh, i can’t keep going . . need you to make us cum, sugu.”
gingerly, he plants a kiss to your neck and chuckles, grabbing at your ass like freshly made dough. “thought i said i wouldn’t,” he grouses, although he’s not entirely upset. “who’s gonna control the curses, hmm?”
“we’ll be fine,” you mumble, sliding your cold hands up beneath his coat and shirt. “just for a minute or two. you started it, so finish it.”
“oooh, aren’t you sassy,” suguru clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes before wrapping a light hand around your throat. his fingers don’t dig too hard into the sides of your neck and you’re a little thankful since the air’s so thin up here. “if we start plummeting, it’s your turn.”
“stop it,” you huff, eyelids fluttering shut when he finally sets his hand onto your hip and starts to move you. god, he’s balls deep and groaning your name, along with various curses and praises. wet squelches and sticky smacks of skin on skin fill the air—the utterly nasty sounds have you squeezing hard around him.
his grip tightens on your neck and he grits his teeth, feeling the beginning sparks of pure bliss. it’s no use when he’s inside you, but he tries to fight it off any way, cheeks splotching a darker pink. “ngh, shit. i need to—hah—feel you cum with me, all over my cock.”
all too quickly, your hand wanders between your legs, and you gasp out clouds of breath when your fingers find your swollen clit. through the haze, you’re able to notice the new course of the sleigh—you’re racing downwards, much like a car on a rollercoaster.
your stomach flips and you start to sob out his name, enamored by the exhilarating rush of it all. “s-sugu, fuckkk—‘m gonna cum.”
“yeah?” he pants, gripping your waist hard enough to leave bruises. you feel him adjust you to the side, giving his cock deeper access at another angle. “you better cum hard for me, sweetheart. we’re not getting off this damn sleigh ‘til you’re crying.”
as if on cue, a few horny tears gather in your eyes, but they don’t splash down your cheeks just yet. you hiccup out his favorite words, eyes rolling back into your skull. “yes, r-right there! fuck, ‘m cumming,” suguru interprets this as permission to finally cum too, and his mouth falls open, cock spurting white into you.
in your boots, your toes curl as your cunt squeezes him impossibly deeper, the both of you temporarily oblivious to the bumpy sleigh. the city lights are suddenly becoming clear, and suguru regains control of the curses, his energy flaring as he commands them to fly back up.
“heh, that was close,” he lets out a shaky exhale and releases his grip on your neck, pulling you into his chest. the winter coats swish quietly as they come into contact with one another, and suguru feels a persistent buzzing at his side. “you were supposed to take control if that happened. lazy girl.”
“if you were asphyxiating like i was, i think you’d also be tired,” you sigh, shivering as suguru notices a persistent buzzing at his side. in a pathetic attempt to prevent him from picking up and answering, you mischievously start to shift on his lap again. but really, who the hell is calling him right now and why is there still reception this high up?
that inevitable sensitivity creeps up on him and makes him shudder as he pulls out his phone, clumsily swiping to answer on a very familiar caller id. his shaky thumb misses the green button and he bites his lip, stiffening when you press your lips to the shell of  his ear.
“aw, don’t answer it,” you murmur, voice smooth and easily convincing. oh, he’s quick to notice the dazed, blissed out look in your half lidded eyes and the sultry implication in your next words. “c’mon, sugu. you’ll ruin all the fun.”
but it’s too late. letting out a resigned sigh, suguru shakes his head and finally answers the phone. with a precarious glance tossed your way, he hoarsely speaks up. “hello? satoru?”
“took you long enough, suguru,” gojo’s cheerful voice rings through the phone, confident and unbothered. “what’s going on up there? i can feel your cursed energy going haywire. it’s all over the damn sky.”
he freezes immediately, fingers cautiously digging into the plush skin of your hips. you offer him an innocent shrug, adjusting on his cock once more; heat flares in his gut and he flounders for words. “satoru, it’s . . nothing important. it’s just the rainbow dragon flying around, heh.” shameless delight has your heart kicking in your ribcage when your ears catch the unusual tightness in his voice.
“nothing important?” gojo laughs, the smirk obvious in his voice. “you’re causing a storm over the city. and come on! you haven’t summoned that one in years.”
suguru’s face twists into a grimace and he desperately tries to stay quiet against the quickening pace of your rocking hips. he hopes that the awkwardness will be enough of a hint and dissolve into the goodbye he’s been dying for since picking up the phone.
“it’s coming down in waves.” gojo laughs at the silence, pausing briefly to look up into the sky. it takes him a moment, but he’s able to push past the choking plumes of suguru’s cursed energy to pinpoint yours. “oh, wait. holddd up, suguru.”
“huh? look, i’ve gotta go, satoru,” he nearly stumbles over his words, “i’m busy with some new curses.”
“don’t tell me you’re busy with her up there, suguru,” gojo remarks suggestively, “no wonder you’re flying all around like a cursed santa claus.”
suguru’s face flushes and he glances helplessly at you, searching your face in hopes of coming up with an acceptable answer. “cut it out. we’re just fine, satoru.”
“bleh, you could’ve just rented a plane, you freak.”
suguru doesn’t even entertain his best friend with a response, swiftly hanging up and tossing the phone to the bench. “i hope you’re happy,” he grumbles dryly, cock twitching inside you. “that was fun, huh?”
he’s half irritated, half in seventh heaven. “i know, i know. he’ll forget about it in a month.”
“in a few months,” suguru corrects you with narrowed eyes that still glint with playfulness despite his embarrassment. he pulls you close as the sleigh starts to drift toward the ground, the curses bracing to land. “besides the call, that was a great ride.”
you can’t stop grinning, leaning in to kiss away the pout on his lips. “next time, leave your phone at home so you don’t get us into this mess again, hehe.”
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deepestnightcolor · 2 days ago
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✩⁺₊✩☽⋆Kinkmas - 24th of December⋆☾✩⁺₊✩
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ᴀ/ɴ: This is it, folks! The last door to open for you in this event. Thank you for sticking around or checking out a story here and there, I appreciate it all! If you celebrate Christmas - merry Christmas! Have some lovely and calm festivities! If you don't - have a lovely day, I hope it is relaxing enough and that you take good care of yourself!
A gentle reminder: when I write "Christmas" here, I am talking about the Feast of The Winterstar. I have to admit, I got a little sloppy after writing "Feast of the winterstar" so often. Please forgive me - and I hope you can enjoy nonetheless!
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ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: find out, dolls!
ᴡᴄ: depending how much you read
ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: hints of sexual content
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Sebastian: „The Feast of the Winterstar isn’t really my thing, you know? So many people, so many sounds, and you have to pretend to be…I dunno, a happy a little family, you know? Even though you aren’t really a happy little family, and you feel like an outcast. Look at this, me throwing a pity party for myself. But I promise, it’s going somewhere.  I didn’t usually like it because I felt so misplaced, but this year, I didn’t. This was one of the first years where I looked forward to going, because I knew you would be my family, and I dunno, it felt so good. Okay, I have to admit, maybe that blowjob you gave me before helped. And maybe knowing that you were so full of my cum that you had to squish those thighs together in that little skirt did, too. I wonder how many people saw those hickeys, wonder how many knew you were absolutely pumped full…you took my cock so well, even though you knew we had to go, like you always do…I digress. Look at me, writing this card, trying to be all cute and sweet and even now when you are not even around (you are sleeping on the couch right now, I am going to carry you to bed later, promise) to distract me, you still possess my mind. I sometimes wonder if you know how much I love you. Probably not, because I often suck telling you, but I do. So much. You make this life a lot better, you know? You give me this sort of foundation I have always needed, and you know what? I am so happy to build up on it with you. The realization hit me hard today, when I didn’t feel that pit in my stomach when getting ready to go to the town square. When I didn’t just want to turn around and run for it, when I didn’t want to jump on my bike and just get out of there. It hit me even harder when I looked forward to talking to my family, because I could wrap my arm around you, and I knew I would be safe and appreciated. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but, uh, thank you. I love you, you little toad. I will put this card under your pillow now and pretend it was Santa who brought you your gift, because you can’t stop me. I love you. -Sebby”
Sam: “I haven’t written a card in aaaaaaaaaaaaagessssssssss, but I decided today was the day it needed to happen. Because I love you, baby, so, so much. You should have seen yourself in the square, holy fuck did you make my heart swell. That Winterstar sweater looked sooooo good on you, and the way your eyes glistened? Holy shit, you were prettier than the tree they put up, and I love that tree. But you know what else I love? You. You were so excited for your present, too, and I am sorry Clint gave you rocks. I hope my present is better. No, I am not talking about fingering you under the table while we ate, but that was fucking hot, right? You were fucking gushing for me, baby, so fucking sloppy. I know you were struggling to stay quiet, but I was struggling, too. Do you know how fucking hard my cock was? Oh, oops, I think I am getting off topic. I wasn’t talking about that present, I am talking about the one that’s under the tree (if you are not letting me open mine before tomorrow, I am not letting you open yours, either. Those are the rules (I am pouting as I write this)). I think you are going to like it, I saw you looking at it for a while now. And here you are thinking I don’t remember much (true), but if my baby likes something, I am sure as hell remembering. I hope it is going to make you happy. It won’t make you as happy as you make me, but at least a fraction of it? I can’t wait to see your face when you open it, I hope your eyes will keep that excitement you always get when you are opening presents, not like when you opened the rocks. I do have admit though, the look you gave Clint was hilarious. He’s a shitty secret Santa, isn’t he? But you aren’t. You don’t know it yet, but you have already given me the biggest gift possible, baby. I am not talking about the one under the tree. The days you spend with me are the sunniest of my life, and I can’t wait to spend more with you. I love you to the moon and back, you know that, right? Because I do. And I can’t wait to love you forever and always. -Love, Sammy”
Shane: “You know I am not the biggest fan of this. To be honest, I still think it’s humbug (I grew to like that word, though), but Jas told me that you give people you care about a card for Christmas, so. Yeah, surprise, I care about you. I hope you have noticed by now. Why do these cards even need so much glitter? I made you one so it wouldn’t look like a fucking unicorn threw up over it, but the glitter from those flimsy store things is still sticking to my hands, like, the fuck?  I pet Charlie earlier and he fucking sparkled, and I don’t know how to get fucking glitter out of feathers. It’s not like I didn’t try. I even fucking googled, and now I get ads about little arms you can put on chickens… Reading back, I think I am trying to avoid getting to the point, but that’s not because of you. No, it’s because of me, because I am scared that if I write down what I feel, realization will kick in for you and have you run for the hills, but I just need you to know. I love you, I really do. I know I have been a little very mean to you in the beginning, so…thank you for persisting and not giving up on me. I honestly don’t think I could have ever gotten so far without you - I wake up and don’t just feel like complete shit. I go through my day without just thinking about getting drunk. When you were sitting across from me at the feast, I noticed that this was the first year I didn’t have some sort of alcohol with me. And when you smiled at me, I knew I wanted it to stay like that. I know I went a little rough with you there when we got home, but I just needed you to know, just needed you to feel how much you mean to me, how thankful I am for you. I don’t know what happened to me there, but it felt so right to just…pound it into you. But hey, the way you have scratched down my back and cried my name, I think you got the message. And if not, don’t you worry, I have enough time to make it stick. But I know you are waiting in bed for me right now, and I really want to join you, so… to cut this shit short (Sam would call it yapping, I think), I love you. A lot. -Shane PS: should we get little arms for our chickens?”
Harvey: “Hello, my love. I have decided that today is the best time to sit down and take some time to write this card for you. After all, winter is the time of consideration and love for others, isn’t it? And I have to say, I have so much love for you. I do not know how to tell you this, but I am simply going to try. You have brought so much new things into my life, it his hard to believe. I have always believed that I didn’t really like change, that’s why I opened my clinic in Pelican Town, after all. It promised me a slow pace and rituals, and, most importantly, rarely any changes. There are barely any people coming, barely any leaving. And then you came along, changing this town completely. And you changed it for the good. Just like you did with me. Hon, you made me leave the comfort of my bubble more than one time and in more times than one. You made me test my abilities, try out new things. I would have never gotten in that hot air balloon without you, for example. Would have never discovered that I love aerobics and dancing, and, to be honest, I wouldn’t know as much sexually about myself as I do know. You have allowed me to explore myself and gave me your safety. I didn’t know I had an oral fixation until I met you, if I am being honest, and I didn’t think I would enjoy going down on a woman as much as I do. Okay, well, maybe that is because of you. Your moans and gasps are just the sweetest, and I love the way you tug at my hair…Hoo, boy, I am blushing just writing this! I just wanted to sincerely thank you for showing me that I do not need to be as scared as I used to be. That it is okay to fall sometimes, to trust in the safety nets. I love you, my love. So, so much. I hope you will never forget this, and I hope you know: although you have shown me that change is okay – my love for you will never change in any other way than that it will grow for you. I love you. Yours truly, Harvey.”
Elliott: “The stars are shining bright upon us tonight, my sweet angel, the air is clear, and so is my head, but my heart? Oh, my heart is full of one of the rawest, strongest and most important emotions – love. And this love, my beautiful little angel, is directed to you. Sometimes I am asking myself how I, a mere commoner, so to speak, is deserving of such a carefully created being as you are. And then my thoughts cease, my tongue ties and my throat closes up out of nothing but the sheer fear that whoever was grateful enough to allow your love to be gifted to me will take this question as an offensive act of ungratefulness and take you away from me. What I am trying to tell you, angel, is, that I love you, wholly and completely, with each atom of my being, with every cell that keeps me alive, with every breath that fills my lungs, with every word I write, with every page I fill – I love you. Not only a day like the Feast of the Winterstar awake these strong feelings within me, no, it could be an ordinary day where I get to wake up next to you, your love-bitten skin just barely covered by a blanket, your hair all tousled, partly because of the sleep that still keeps you wrapped up tightly, partly because you have allowed me to make love to you. An ordinary day where I get to see your smile, get to see you is enough to alight this fire within me. If I am allowing myself to speak freely, even right now, just by writing this, I can feel my the warmth pool inside my stomach, can feel myself craving you in a way that is primal, and I know I could just turn around and please you, distract you from the book you are reading. But my angel, I won’t do so – not just yet. I first need you to know that your love, hopefully just as raw and ready to blossom like mine, is the biggest gift that has been ever gifted to me. No Winterstar could gift me something as dear as you, and I would never even dare to speak out another wish – as long as I have you. Please know, my angel, that you are my everything. My muse, my light, my reason to overcome writer’s block, my safe haven I will always be happy to return to. I love you. -Forever yours and fallen for you, Elliott.”
Alex: "Merry X-mas baby! You prolly know that I really suck at writing but this is our first X-mas together and I wanted to write you a card. because there are a few things I wanted to tell you you know? Like that I fell in love with you the moment you moved here and I fell fucking hard. Cheesy isn't it? But it's true. I don't really know how many nights I spent thinking about you. Okay to be honest, I didn't only think, I also busied my hand a little if you know what I mean ;) Just couldn't resist, you are just so pretty baby. So so pretty. Actually I can't wait to see you wearing that lil gift I got you. I think you are gonna like it but I am SURE you will like what I am going to do to you while you are wearing it. Can't wait to have my cock inside of you again baby it to be honest. I just love the face you make the moment I brush your cunt with my dick. Fuck that I love everything about you baby. Love everything you do when I plow you...  I know I know, we already had our fun today, but I just can’t get enough of those moans. They are like my fucking fuel, you are my fuel.  I dunno if I should tell you this, because I am actually a lil embarrassed about it, but do you know that audio I made of us fuckin? I sometimes listen to it when doin an especially hard workout because it makes me feel like I can do anything. I am drifting off right now right? I can't wait to spend this X-mas with you and many more to come because you actually make me look forward to it again. Christmas and the whole Winterstar season were so hard on me ever since my mom passed away, but you… you lift that gloomy cloud away from me. You make it feel like it’s going to be okay, and I am so thankful for that, baby. Damn, this season make me cheesy doesn't it? But to put it in a nutshell (I actually read that phrase in a book today are you proud of me now?): I love you, baby. ~Alex I actually did it I actually wrote a card can you fucking believe it."
Leah: “My sweet thing! Did I already tell you how cute you look in your little Winterstar sweater? Gives me the Christmas spirit in a way you wouldn’t believe! I absolutely loved how you told Evelyn what wool you were using to make it, even offering her some. You’ve just got the kindest heart in the valley, don’t you? You know I usually get artist’s block during the winter months, but when I saw down and looked at this piece of paper, it was like I just knew what I needed to do. And here we are, now that your Christmas card has dried, I can finally write in it, and I am going to use it to tell you that… I love you! What surprise, huh? Especially since I have given you that sculpture. But it is true, I love you. When we woke up together and slept together once more before getting ready…phew… I don’t know, I think I have never felt like this before. By the way, while we are at it, I definitely need you on my face again. There is just something absolutely breathtaking ( 😉 ) about you grinding against me so desperately while you are trying to eat me out… Look at me, sweet thing, already rambling and drooling over you again. But that is what you do to me… Sweet thing, you make me feel so genuinely happy and welcome here. I have always enjoyed my solitude in a way, fending for myself, being one with the nature, seeking out company only when I truly wanted it. But you showed me that there is another person I can rely on but myself, and for that I am thankful. You have opened your arms and your home for me whenever I needed either or both, and you are always believing in me, even when I had this dumb idea to sculpt a Winterstar tree with just cans. Yes, I will never drink that kinda wine again and yes, I remember that Shane blocked me because I spammed him trying to ask him for cans. But even though it was stupid and I was behaving like a maniac, you just smiled at me and got on your horse, telling me you’d fetch me some more cans. And you did. Thank you, love, for loving me, my art, and being a masterpiece yourself. I love you. -Leah. PS: I MIGHT HAVE AN IDEA HOW THAT TREE MIGHT ACTUALLY WORK OUT."
Maru: “Well, Christmas cards certainly aren’t my usual way of communicating, but I figured why not try out something new for once? You know I am all for trying out new things, especially if they make the world a better place. And if this makes your day a little better, then I am already one step closer to that goal. Was that cheesy? I think it was. I cannot believe what you are doing to me; ME, a clear-minded, well-structured scientist, being cheesy and absolutely whipped for you. It is true – I am. I do not what you did to me, but it did work. Every single day I wake up thankful to have you, and not only because you are such a willing little guinea pig (which you are, may I add. But you are my favourite <3). I remember when we had slept together that first time. It was NOT that I was a virgin, but… you made me feel things I didn’t quite think I could feel. I was actually feeling like you wrapped me up in cotton candy when you whispered these sweet things to me, and I didn’t think that was humanly possible (just to be clear, it is not!). With every kiss that you placed on my skin, with every thrust of your fingers, I was falling deeper, deeper, deeper and I absolutely did not want it to stop. I still do not. Is that greedy? Perchance. Do I mind that much? No, because it is with you. And here we are, just coming back from the Feast of The Winterstar, and I can’t wait to give you your gift. You had told me you had wanted to wait until the morning to exchange them, like you don’t know how impatient I can get. I just cannot wait to see your face when you open it up. You know, I probably have hidden it so well, but I actually am trying to support your farm with my machines. I build most of the farm helpers with you in mind. I am only telling you this because it is Christmas, though! Still. I love you. I love you really, really much, and I truly enjoy loving you. I know I sometimes might have an odd way of showing it, but now it is here, spelled out clearly, and I am happy it is. Because you deserve to now. Merry Christmas. -Your love loving you, Maru. PS: Did you know that the tradition of the Winterstar has a quite interesting origin?”
Emily: “It’s CHRISTMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAS! I can’t believe this beautiful time of year is already supposed to be over again ☹. It always moves by so fast, doesn’t it?! Especially now that I have you by my side – it was like it had gone in a blink! One day we were cuddling on the couch watching this sweet little Christmas movie, and the next we were already at the Feast! Thank you for dancing with me, by the way. I enjoyed it a lot, even though we might have put a little show on for everyone 😉. Do you think they saw that I was not just dancing with you, but basically humping that sweet little butt of yours? Do you think they knew we were all over one another as soon as we stepped through the door. Yoba, you were so wet from just a little grinding! Okay, maybe a more than a little grinding, but your panties were drenched! But that’s okay, I was just as wet as you. I always get like this around you; it is like I just can’t get enough. You are so intoxicating! I have always known that, though, I could feel your vibes the first time we met and they were AMAZING! They still are, of course, but they also grew a lot stronger. I hope you know how happy the spirits are with you, my little butterfly! You just wouldn’t believe how happy I am that our spirits get to intertwine like this! I see them in my dreams sometimes, they are a strong unit. I wish I could take you along into that world more often, but it can be hard to channel all these emotions sometimes… Oh, my butterfly, I am just so happy to have you. I love you so much. It feels like colours are brighter with you around, even now in winter! I just can’t wait to see again what the other seasons are going to look like with you. And I can’t wait to spend another winter with you, another Christmas. I know that’s a little early, isn’t it? But with you, the future seems a lot tastier. Albeit now I would like to enjoy the present, because you are smiling at me, telling me we should share some Winterstar cookies. To many more present moments, butterfly. -Hugs and kisses, Emily.”
Haley: “Babe, thank you so, so much for encouraging me to take my camera with me today. Me being a summer girlie makes it hard for me to see the appeal in winter, but I actually got some decent shots today. You definitely need to check them out later when I developed them! But I have to say, even though those pics are pretty, they aren’t my favourite. No pictures can beat the ones I have of us, they are my favourite and will always be.  Actually, well, there might be a set of pics that can beat those as well, hehe… Remember when you allowed me to make you my little model? You looked so pretty in that lingerie set. I am looking at one of those pictures right now, and I would be lying if I said that they didn’t do something to me. You just have a way to pose that makes me a little envious. Not much, though, because those pics are for me and me only. But the one where you grin at me with those hooded eyes…you just knew exactly what were you doing, weren’t you? Who knew a dirty little farmer had it in her? 😉 But look at me, rambling about photos again. I actually wanted to write you a Christmassy card, tell you how much I love you. But you know that, right? I know I was a little…judgemental in the beginning, but you know that you have found your way in my heart? Yoba, that was lame. Okay, you see, I struggle a lot putting these feelings into words because they are such…big feelings (jeewhizz, I sound like Emily), but…Let me try this differently. I am with you. I enjoy being with you. I love every day that we are together. You mean more to me than my camera, sunflowers and pink cake combined. There! I said it! And now I expect you to hold this card dear and never lose it, because I will not say this again. So, maybe I will, if you ask me. Or maybe right now, when you are sleeping so sweetly, your hair falling just right. How do you always manage this, getting your hair to fall like you are starring in an advertisement for freaking conditioner? You know what? That’s it. I am getting the camera, and then I am joining you. Merry X-Mas, babe. I love you. -Haley.”
Abigail: “I just don’t get how you do it. Really, I don’t. I watched you all night, and I am pretty sure your smile didn’t falter even once. Not even when my dad told you that stupid joke – “What did Santa pay for his sleigh? Nothing, it was on the house.” Ha ha, dad, really. See, it’s so stupid I even remember it by heart! Hey, I can’t deny that my parents love you, tho. Well done, I think you can sit at our table until the end of time now, sharing my fate. Fine, it wasn’t all that bad. I was having fun. A little. You made it better, you know? I felt like I finally had someone next to me that actually understands me. You always understand me, and I know you do. Speaking of…Yoba, if my parents only knew that you have taken me to the mines already you would lose that hard-earned spot at that damn table again. Especially if they knew what else we were doing down there… Oh, it gets me weak in the knees to just think about it. You were so rough with me… I know it was because you were worried because I wasn’t careful enough, but being choked against a stone wall? That was definitely something…Actually, I still remember that I had been barely able to walk back to the farm after you were done with me. What do you say? Does the handle of your sword still smell like me? I kinda wish it does… But it’s best if we keep this our pretty little secret, right? So you can keep the spot at our table and so that you can still take me to the mines. And perhaps so they can still let us be together with calm minds.  I wish that I could tell you that I look forward to spending many more Christmases with you, but that would be a lie. I do hope to spend many days with you, and that you can make many more Christmases a tolerable experience like today. You know, you mange to make many things that I hate tolerable. So…Thank you. Truly. I know I am a lot sometimes, but please know that I love you. A lot. A crazy lot. And I would do a crazy lot for you. But for now, I am going to crawl in bed with you. See what you say to the present purple-haired Santa will bring you tonight. Good night, bub. -Your Abby. PS: I could have totally beaten that slime myself. PPS: probably.”
Penny: “Do you remember last winter? We weren’t together yet, but we still shared a moment that is still very dear to me, hun. I had dropped my bookmark into the snow, it was a papery one, beige at that, so looking for it was a lost cause. You had come by on your horse and without any hesitation, you had jumped to help me. Of course, we didn’t find that bookmark ever again, and I had been really sad, it had been my favourite. You had told me you were sorry and stroked over my hair oh so gently, as if it had been your fault. Oh, I had already been swooning for you, then! And then the next day you had come by, smiling at me as you held something behind your back. You had told me that Santa had passed by early before you stretched out something, a Poppy, carefully pressed and wrapped in a foil to secure it. I didn’t know how you had done it back then (now I know you like growing flowers in your greenhouse, and I love sitting there), but I kept it dear to me. I like to think that this was the point our relationship got its roots, and that’s why I will always hold that bookmark dear. When I looked at you at the Feast today, the bookmark came back to my mind, and I felt like a realization hit me. Our relationship – it is like a book. A carefully crafted romance by life. The only difference is that, while I love books, I have never been as involved in one as I am in this one. I am here for every single page, and I am eating them all up. No matter if they consist of our little reading ritual in the evenings, our date nights, the things you have taught me about living on the farming, our fights and… the spicier parts of our relationship, hi hi. I haven’t told this anyone, and I trust you keep this secret, but I did actually read some more…passionate books, but it never quite resonated with me. Until I met you. I don’t know what’s happening to me when we are naked, I am usually well composed, I think, but when you let me sit on your thigh, or when you guide our…ehe…you know, to grind against one another, something happens in my brain. It’s like a short-circuit, and I find myself wanting more, more, more. Ever since I have met you, I have also been feeling a lot more…lustful. But only for you! I tried to replicate these feelings you give me by reading books a few times, but I have never managed to do it. Weird, isn’t it? However! This isn’t y main point – my main point is that I love you. I love you more than a library of a million books holds words. I hope our personal book will fill more and more. I hope we will be able to fill our own personal library. I just want you to know: You are my favourite; book, topic, genre. It doesn’t matter. You are my favourite. ~With purest love, Penny.”
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my-my-my · 3 days ago
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KINKMAS DAY 2 (AKA KINKTOBER DAY 14) - Humiliation: Kisuke Urahara x Female Reader
Summary: It’s been centuries since Kisuke had a crush, and it had to be on a random customer. Crushes were irrational, but dealing with them by some “light” stalking and “deceptive” business practices, are totally logically, right?
TW: MDNI! Deception, cyber stalking, slight humiliation, more like reader is embarrassed around Kisuke since they both mutually have a crush on each other. Rope play, oral sex (male and female receiving), face fucking, anal fingering, use of pet names and dirty talk.
Word count: 3716
Read on AO3 here.
Kisuke stared at the blinking light on his phone, exhaling the smoke from his pipe as he looked back into the night sky. The moon shone brightly on Urahara Shoten, and in the distance, partygoers, night owls and everyone in between, were enjoying themselves. Normally, Kisuke would persuade Tessai, Jinta and Ururu to coax bystanders for some late-night shopping, but Kisuke was preoccupied tonight, as he watched the blinking light move around on the map.
He was distracted. He was anxious. He was confused.
The logical side that Kisuke operated on almost 99.9% of the time knew that this was a crush. A simple, childish crush on a random customer.
He found himself thinking of all the possibilities of having you visit his store again. Of hearing your voice, of seeing you smile and laugh. Kisuke could effortlessly lay plans, miniscule in size, but pushing you into a domino effect leading back to him.
But his feelings for you made him restless.
It left him uncomfortable.
He easily laughed and flirted with you at the store. Yet you were so kind and took him stride. Your gaze was gentle as you listened to him earnestly. Kisuke was always one for pranks, and yet… he felt nervous. His cheeks would be tinted pink as you listened to him try to tease you, and you politely following along. How you would ask him questions about the various Shinigami items, not knowing their true value. How your eyes lit up at what he shared. You were curious, kind and gentle.
Kisuke exhaled more smoke from his pipe. You were so different from him, yet so alike in wanting to know and understand the world around you.
This anxiety reminded him of when he first became captain. The side-stepping and uncertainty of how he stood as a captain of a squad, and the fallout that came from the Vizard incident. It left Kisuke perplexed.
Although… that wasn’t quite true. The discomfort he was feeling wasn’t quite like that time when he was younger.
Maybe it was the fact he saw you smile at someone else, another mere human. A smile different from the one you gave him. In a bizarre twist of fate, seeing you chatting with another man at a café. You were laughing, touching the stranger’s arm, smiling brightly while Kisuke watched in the distance. Kisuke felt strangely humiliated. Was he not special in your eyes?
But Kisuke was not one to dwell on his feelings. His immediate remedy was to share a bottle of sake with another woman. He charmed his way between her legs, as he watched her bob her head up and down his cock, all the while thinking of you. He wondered if making a gigai of you would solve his problems…
But all of this was foolish Kisuke realized. While he was certain he could make a physical replica of you, your soul was another thing entirely.
And besides, wasn’t the real person better than any gigai? He mused to himself, wondering what perfection and imperfection he would fail to capture if he even attempted making a replica of you.
And now at Urahara Shoten, under the brightly lit moon, Kisuke would anxiously watch the little marker of you creep closer to the shop.
Your first visit to the store was seared into his memory. You took your time to inspect everything, curiosity shining bright in your eyes. You didn’t hesitate to ask him questions, and you were generous in what you had bought. You asked if he had a newsletter or something so you could sign up for “deals and sales” (as if he had any to begin with).
“My, my” Kisuke waved his fan, trying to hide the blush on his face as his eyes drifted to your cleavage. “I do have a newsletter, my dear.” He gave a sweet smile as he conjured a fake piece of paper behind him. “Scan the QR code, and you can input your email for our newsletter.” It was so easy for him to lie; it was second nature really. Yet you didn’t hesitate as you pulled out your phone and scanned the fake code, that let him have access to your email and number.
Of course he didn’t have a newsletter, yet he created one tailored just for you. Of things that would interest you, of things that would make you visit him. You were so ecstatic with everything he offered.
Yet it wasn’t enough. He mused, thinking what that stranger had compared to him, a “mere honest, handsome, perverted businessman.” (To which you had laughed at.)
Kisuke entered his shop and milled around, when the familiar sound of the door charm rang.
“How late do you keep your shop open for, Urahara-san?” You asked as you quietly entered the store. And as if on cue, Kisuke whipped out his fan and fanned himself.
“Friday nights are a good source of customers, my dear.” He teased, his eyes filled with mirth. “I mean you’re here, are you not?”
You laughed, “I suppose that’s true.”
“Were you out tonight?” Kisuke asked casually, but his eyes were focused on you, inspecting your figure as you picked up your favourite candy.
“Sort of, but my plans kind of fell through.” You sighed, your voice despondent. Was that disappointment he heard?
“I’ve been told I’m excellent listener, if you want me to lend an ear.” Kisuke lied, smiling as you looked at him with hesitancy.
“No, it’s ok, Urahara-san. It’s pretty silly, I don’t want to take up your time.” You gave him an apologetic smile, “but thank you for the offer.”
“You won’t be taking any of my time.” Kisuke said, as he came closer to you. You couldn’t help but look away as his presence drew closer. It surprised you by how big he was, so you tried to ignore his growing presence by reading the ingredient list of some random candy box.
“I’ll be closing up shop in a few minutes.” Kisuke said, watching you. Lowering his voice, he whispered, “but I have a bottle of sake we can share, since the night is still young.” He smiled, seeing your eyes widen.
“Oh no, save that for yourself!” You nervously laughed.
“Then how about…” Kisuke paused, tapping his fan to his chin, “you can have any drink and snack here free of charge!” He grinned, as you stared at him in surprise.
“Really? Any?” You exclaimed, then narrowed your eyes, “there’s no hidden cost?”
Kisuke gave a wink, as he ushered you to the back of the store. He had spun kido to the entrance to lock the store for the remainder of the night.
With your favourite drink in hand, you were surprised to see a small table ready with sake and two cups. You felt slightly guilty for rejecting his sake offer, but you weren’t in the mood for alcohol tonight.
It was strange, to be so close to Urahara-san, you thought. He made himself comfortable and poured out his cup of a sake and took a sip, as you took a sip of your own drink. The two of you sat in comfortable silence. He had on his loose fitting samue, his bare chest right in front of your view, and his face remained unshaven, yet the bucket hat was gone. His blonde locks looked unkempt, yet his grey eyes appeared focused and clear.
“So what happened today?” Kisuke said, looking straight into your eyes.
You felt like the room was getting smaller. Was this Kisuke being serious? He looked concerned for you.
And now you felt even guiltier.
“Oh this is so stupid.” You muttered.
“I’ll be the judge of that.” Kisuke said, “you can tell me anything.”
“Promise you won’t laugh?” You asked, nervously.
“Your secret is safe with me.” He winked at you again. He’s too handsome… you thought.
Taking a deep breath, you matched his stare, “I was meeting up with someone who I thought had a mutual interest in an activity,” Kisuke raised his eyebrows, as your voice began to waver, “but they had someone else.”
“What was the activity?” Kisuke asked, as he leaned his face closer to your side of the table. You felt your body grow hot and out of nervousness, you gripped on to his table as you tried to steel yourself.
“Iwannabetiedup.” You stammered. Your body felt on fire from what you just shared.
“And they weren’t interested in it?” Kisuke asked, without missing a beat.
“Oh well… they said they were into it, but then they said they met someone else… so I never really tried it with them.” You lowered your gaze, taking a swig from your drink. It wasn’t like there were feelings involved, you tried to rationalize, just two people who had similar interests and need to scratch the same itch. “I guess I’m kind of disappointed.” You sighed, “I was looking forward to it.”
“Were you interested because of them?” Kisuke asked.
You shook your head quickly, “not really.”
“If you’re interested in ropes and being tied…” Kisuke took another sip of sake, smirking at all the ideas he had formulating now. “I can help you with that.”
You spat out your drink, “what?!”
“I said I can help you with that.” He gave you a cheerful smile.
You had never felt this kind of embarrassment before, Urahara-san was a sweet, intelligent shopkeeper.
“…mere honest, handsome, perverted businessman”
Those words rang clear in your head as you snapped back to look at him. Perverted??
Well, yes, you did catch him a few times staring at your chest, or how intensely he would look at you whenever you shopped.
You both sat in silence as you mulled over your thoughts. “Have you done this before?”
“Tying up beautiful women? You’d be the first.” Kisuke teased, grinning wide at you.
“Somehow, I doubt that, but no, I meant using ropes in general.”
Kisuke gave you a gentle smile as he reached out across the table to squeeze your hand, “yes. You can trust me.”
And with that, he escorted you to another area behind his store.
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You didn’t expect Urahara Shoten to have such a massive, underground space, yet here you were. The shop was so small on the outside, yet this area was huge. But before you could ask any questions, you entered a room, with a modest sized bed, closet, desk, and lamp.
“Please sit on the bed, my dear.” Kisuke said, leading you towards it. As you sat, you watched him rummage through his closet, where pulled out a brilliant red rope.
Your mind was racing thinking of what was going to happen, so much so that you didn’t hear Kisuke’s question.
He gave you another gentle smile and repeated his question, “do you want to keep your clothes on or off as I tie you up?”
Your mouth became dry and you became nervous again. It had been a while since you were last intimate with someone, and for some reason, you felt self-conscious in front of Urahara-san. When you looked up at him, you immediately noticed the lecherous glint in his eyes.
And without a word, you took off your clothes, avoiding his gaze. You sat nude on his bed, giving him a shy smile.
“Before we start. Let’s have some rules.” Kisuke murmured, cupping your face in the palm of his hand. His thumb ran over your lips as he continued to speak, “I won’t gag you tonight, so think of two words. One to say when you’re hesitant, another to say when you want me to stop.”
You nodded your head, “how about ‘candy’ and ‘rice’?”
Kisuke chuckled, “perfect. How are you feeling now?”
“A bit nervous, but I trust you.”
Kisuke gave you another smile and gently kissed you on the lips. You threw your arms around his neck, pulling him down on to the bed with you. You passionately kissed him back, but he pulled away.
“I want you to put your arms behind you and spread your legs.” You nodded and complied with his requests. You held your breath in as you felt him secure your arms together, forcing your chest out.
“Can you flex your fingers?” Kisuke asked, as you easily moved your fingers. Your wrists were tied securely, but not to the point of damage.
Kisuke moved down your body, kissing different parts as he placed and secured your body. Your legs were bounded to the corners of the bed, but there was still more rope. Kisuke took the remaining piece and snapped it, inspecting it with great detail, before locking eyes with you. He gave you a mischievous smirk as he made knots to the rope, then tying them between your breasts, with the final piece… your eyes widened as you watched his hand reach down between your legs.
“CANDY!” You shouted, forcing Kisuke to stop.
“What’s wrong?” Embarrassment filled you as Kisuke looked at you with concern.
“I just needed a bit of a breather” you murmured, eyes casting downwards. “Can I have another kiss?” You asked.
Kisuke chuckled, “just a kiss?” watching you avoid his gaze. But he steadied himself between your legs and kissed you deeply on the lips. He slowly pulled away, watching you try to catch your breath. “May I continue?” Kisuke asked, kissing you gently on your forehead.
You took another deep breath, but looked straight at him, “yes.”
Kisuke nodded and firmly held the rope and placed it between your wet folds. His eyes were concentrated, although you swore you briefly saw a flash of appreciation. You whimpered as the red rope rubbed your clit, while Kisuke secured it back to your tied arms.
Kisuke moved away from the bed. You blushed deeply as you saw him gaze at your body with such intensity. He wasn’t appreciating his handiwork, but you. His lust-blown grey eyes were feeding off every inch of your body, and the ropes and bindings amplified your breasts, thighs and ass that drove him mad.
“Urahara-san…” you murmured, flexing your fingers and toes as your body relished at the feeling of being bounded like this.
“Please, call me Kisuke.” He smiled at you fondly.
“Kisuke, can I try something else with you?” You asked, trying to arch your body to get a better look at him.
He gave you a sly smile. “I think I know what it is you want to try.”
You gulped as he began to slide his samue off his shoulders, revealing broad shoulders and chest, and firm abdomen, with hair leading down beneath his pants. You licked your lips as you watched his hand hover the drawstring of his pants, before he undid them, pushing aside his briefs, leaving him as nude as you.
Kisuke grabbed his cock, as he lazily pumped himself, watching you stare at him. You weren’t shy about it at all, with the way your eyes were glazed, licking your lips fervently. He climbed back into bed and straddled your face between his legs, his cock hovering just above your lips.
“This is what you wanted to try, yes?” He asked, amusement filling his voice. You nodded your head and opened your mouth, sucking the tip of his cock with enthusiasm.
Kisuke smiled and patted your hair as you tried to take him deeper. With your arms behind your back, your legs bounded, your upper body strength was limited. Kisuke threaded his fingers in your hair, gently holding your scalp as he guided you further down his length. He let out an appreciative groan, moaning your name as you took him to the base.
Then he pulled you away, watching strands of your saliva link you to his erection. Your breathing was heavy, but you looked up at him with an intense wanton look. Kisuke smirked at the sight, grabbing his cock and gently tapping your face and lips with it.
“Are you a greedy slut for any cock? Or just mine.”
You tried to swipe your tongue on his cock each time it came close to your lips, whining when he would pull it away from you.
“Yours!” You whined again, as you tried to make your body move forward to taste him again.
“So honest,” he laughed, a fiendish smile appearing on his face, “but since you answered honestly, you get a reward.” To which he placed his cock back on your lips, and you happily took him again. You moaned around him as he guided you down his cock again but winced when his grip tightened.
Your eyes rolled as you felt him slam his cock down your throat, fucking you with your face. But without warning, he let go, your head falling back to the bed as he slapped your face with his saliva-covered cock.
Kisuke didn’t say anything as he moved back down your body. He roughly grabbed and massaged your breasts, pinching your nipples before taking turns to suck on each one. His mind already wandered to the kinds of devices he’ll have on hand to clamp them next time.
Kiss after kiss, nip after nip, Kisuke traveled down to your sopping wet pussy. Your juices soaked the rope to a deeper red.
“My, my, you really are a rope slut aren’t you.” Kisuke teased, gently tugging the rope, earning more moans from you. He hooked a finger under the piece of rope to see your slick, dripping cunt. He immediately kissed your clit, lapping at it with fervor. He traced his finger around your wet hole, satisfied with how wet you were. You were crying out his name, bucking your hips, but the ropes provided little relief.
Kisuke stopped his ministrations, as he felt your legs quiver and body tense. Your orgasm was approaching, but he wanted to savour you for longer. He lifted his head and looked down at you. Your body was now covered in bite marks, and deep red markings from where the rope had shifted in place.
You were magnificent, and all his.
“Princess, do you want me to continue?” He asked, as he caressed your saliva and tear covered cheek.
“Yes, please Kisuke.”
He pulled the piece of rope aside from your pussy and lined his cock to your entrance. In one swift thrust, he entered you, moaning your name as you tightened around him.
With heavy-lidded eyes, Kisuke relished the feeling of you around him. You felt so full on the other hand. Although you were soaking wet, your sensitive pussy felt stretched full from his heavy, thick cock. Kisuke shuddered as you tightened again, as he began to slowly roll his hips.
But before you could get used to it, Kisuke stopped and pulled away.
“Kisuke, please!” You begged, confused as to why he stopped so suddenly. His cock was still erect and now covered in your juices. Without so much a word, he moved down to your legs, undoing the bindings. Yet before you could flex and roll your feet, he flipped you over on the bed.
“Keep your legs together, my dear.” Kisuke instructed, to which you obeyed. You felt the rope now wrapped around your ankles as he tied them together, but he also undid the rope slipped between your pussy and ass.
Hovering above you, Kisuke spread your ass cheeks apart, seeing the puckered hole. He would have another device ready for your ass for another time, tonight your pussy was the sole focus of his “research.”
He pushed his cock through your pussy again, earning another moan from you. Kisuke didn’t pause like last time though, he immediately began thrusting in and out of your pussy, his hips snapping against you.
Letting go of your bottom, Kisuke reached forward and grabbed your hair, pulling you back. He smirked as he watched your eyes roll, a small trickle of drool escaping your lips as you moaned his name.
Kisuke’s thrusts were relentless as he quickened his pace. He pushed his body weight on top of you, every so often lifting himself up to spank your bottom. Your mind was in a frenzy, as you felt something play with your clit, while having Kisuke fill your pussy continuously. You were lost to the pleasure, as Kisuke pulled orgasms out of your body as if he knew exactly where to push your limit. You also felt the faint pressure of his thumb near your asshole, but the simultaneous sensations from your clit and his cock clouded your mind.
Kisuke smirked as his thumb pushed its way into your ass, you moaned again. You turned your head to look at him, but Kisuke grabbed your head and pushed you down into the mattress, increasing his thrusts.
Your eyes rolled again as another orgasm ripped through your body. The obscene sound of Kisuke’s cock stuffing your pussy filled your ears, along with his pants and moans. You vaguely felt him shudder, pulling himself out of your sore pussy. You whined at the loss, before you felt hot splatter land on your pussy and ass, and the familiar pressure of his thumb and another finger pushing his cooling cum into your ass and pussy.
Closing your eyes, you felt Kisuke’s hand over your own arms, as the ropes slide off your body. He gently massaged your wrists and ankles, kissing them tenderly. Your body was sore, as your eyes fluttered to stay awake.
“I should…” you murmured, struggling to get up, “go home.”
Kisuke patted your head gently whispering your name softly, “you’re in no shape to go home. You’re staying the night.”
“Too much” you yawned, “trouble for you, Kisuke?”
Kisuke gave you a teasing smile, “no trouble for me.” His hands wandered down your ass, giving them a soft squeeze, “but you can ‘thank’ me in the morning.”
You yawned again, as sleep began to fill your mind, “you really are…” you mumbled, as Kisuke tucked himself next to you, wrapping his arms around your body, “a handsome, perverted businessman.” You murmured into his chest.
“I said I was honest too.” He laughed, kissing the top of your head, but you were already asleep.
Oh well, Kisuke thought. His mind racing at all the other things you two could try together.
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Wow, finally. We're nearing the end. Took me 3 months to write 15 chapters, jesus lol.
The chapter title on AO3 is from Desire's song, "Under Your Spell," but I was also listening to Kensuke Ushio's "Supernatural Power" as well while writing the latter half of this chapter.
I struggled with this prompt at first. The original plan for this prompt was WILDLY different. I was originally thinking of humiliation where Kisuke is being humiliated, but my sister and I were talking about this, how do you humiliate someone who is... pretty much shameless? It was hard for me to grasp.
The first draft I wrote for this prompt was something along the lines where Kisuke is a serial cheater on reader. I do plan on posting that one, but more as a one-shot with possibly no smut. I'm still undecided lol.
Thanks for your patience and for reading! The final chapter is AIZEN!!!!!!!
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usetheeauthor · 2 days ago
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Kinkmas Day 3: Love Faces + Babytrapping + Bathroom Sex
Older!Realtor!Edward Lemuel/Guy Moratz x Bimbo!Influencer!Reader
Warnings: age gap (ed: early 50s, reader: mid 20s), delulu!edward but also he’s completely right, yandere!edward, oral (m receiving), ball worship, curvy/chubby!reader, mentions of insecurities, babytrapping, grower not show-er!edward, praise kink, little bit of humiliation kink, breeding kink, sloppy/rough kissing, unprotected p in v, creampie, scratching & biting, desperate sex, switch!couple
Summary: Banging your realtor in your new home sounds like a nice way to celebrate a close.
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Gif credit: @/thelovewittch
a/n: writing for him cause I can’t get him out of my head so why the fuck not. Had the older him in mind and ran with it. Some inspo from the movie ‘The Substance’ in this because it felt very similar some of the messages they had.
YOUR knee brushed against his. Could it have been intentional? Could you even do something so scandalous in the vicinity of your parents? And you’re sitting super close. There’s so much room on this piano bench and yet you sat this close to him. God, he could smell your vanilla-scented perfume, wishing he could lathe his tongue across your delicate throat to see if he could taste it, too. He could feel the heat radiating from you and when it makes contact with his skin, he imagines for a moment that he could live in it. He hears the sweet gasp that escapes your lips when you run your fingers along the ivory keys.
YOU’RE a music enthusiast, it seems.
Edward was only showing off the piano display included with the home. He sat at its bench and playfully fooled around on the instrument when you decided to sit beside him and play truthfully. Beautifully.
Every now and then, you’d reach for a key over on his side and he’d force himself not to shudder when the action forced your bodies even closer.
He’s got to remain professional. His clients wouldn’t appreciate their realtor popping a boner over their sweet daughter but he’s hopelessly infatuated with you.
Just today—only 15 minutes into the tour where he’d first laid his eyes on you, Edward believes he’s found his soulmate in you. It’s love at first sight. You must feel it, too!
When he’d greeted you…you smiled and greeted him back! You laughed at his little jokes throughout the tour. And now you’re here beside him, making indiscreet attempts at being close while your parents examine the bedrooms upstairs.
“You played wonderfully?” He says with a goofy lovestruck smile.
“You liar,” You giggle. “That was so awful. If my piano teacher would have heard me play just now, he’d place one of those ice cream cone hats teachers used to make bad kids wear in the black and white days. I think it was called a dense hat?”
“A dunce hat.” He corrects.
“That’s the one,” You nod, pointing an acrylic-donned nail at him. “You’re so smart, Mr. Guy.”
“M-my first name is actually Guy.”
“So your name is Mr. Guy Guy?” You ask, blinking perplexedly.
“Guy Moratz.” Edward answers, trying to contain his excitement.
YOU just asked for his name! You half-remembered his name! If this isn’t your attempt to get to know him then he doesn’t what is?
“There’s a pool in this house, right, Mr. Guy?” You ask, glossing over his correction.
“Yes, an indoor pool.”
“Sweet,” You smile before pulling out your cell phone. “Think you could take some photos of me around the place.”
“Of course. Anything for you, my darling…client.” Edward answers awkwardly, attempting to stand on his feet but you sink your sharp nails into his biceps a little, pulling him back down on the bench. His dick jumps a little in trousers at this.
“Can I get one quick selfie with you?” You plead with the added pout and puppy dog eyes. You look so gosh darn pretty. “I want my instagram followers to see me with my new realtor. They’re coming along with me on my housing journey so I’m documenting anything I can. I’m practically the most mature influencer of my friend circle. They’re all still living together as roommates but I think I’m ready to be an adult. Just between you and I, though, let’s pretend I was the one who’d found you and not my parents.”
“Your secret’s safe with me.” Edward says and just as he finishes his sentence, you snap a quick photo of the two of you. You show him the picture and he frowns for a moment. He wasn’t ready and the photo didn’t capture his good side. What if you stare at that photo long enough and think he’s not as handsome as you’d believe? Or worse you show this photo to your girlfriends and they’d tell you how unattractive he is.
“You don’t like it?” You ask in a soft, whimper.
“It’s…okay. I was just in the middle of speaking so my mouth looks a little wide in that photo which made my head shape look weird and…”
“I could retake it. No biggie. But I’d like to keep this photo anyway. If you’d let me, pretty please.” You beg.
“Why?”
You lean in, whispering, “Because I want…to compare my best photos and I think I look hot as fuck in this one,” Standing on your feet, you yank down your tight pink dress that rode up your thick thighs before strutting to the nearest hallway. Edward. “Come on, take me to that indoor pool you’ve been raving about. I don’t want my parents catching up to us in case my besties want to facetime. I’ll see if I can crop you out of that photo later, if you’d like. Or I can even edit it to make it look better so that way we won’t have to keep retaking it. I, also, hate it whenever a friend keeps a bad photo of me just to use it against me or something.“
Edward fawns over you. You’re so considerate! To be kind enough to edit a photo for your realtor?! You’d probably do such a kind act for him no matter what he looked like. For that reason, his heart further warms up to you. You’re different. You’re not like Ingrid or the other women. You care about his feelings, you saw through him for the better. Just as a soulmate would do.
“Here is your stunning indoor pool room for your comfort, privacy, and all year-round enjoyment. This luxurious space boasts—”
“Can you take a photo of me here by the pool?” You question, already having dipped your feet into the cool water.
“Yes.” He takes a step forward looking for a position that would best capture the light in your eyes. Every angle is perfect. Oh, to have been born with such beauty. There’s no doubt your children together would be gorgeous.
Edward settles near the pool’s edge, standing in front of you as he snaps a quick photo. You stand giddily on your feet, singing him praises of his methods. “Are you some kind of a professional photographer?”
“Nope but I do a little acting on the side.” He laughs but once again his smile becomes a deep frown. Just in the background of the photo is his face upon the water’s surface, the waviness of the ripples causing its reflected image to distort. It’s…ugly.
“You think you can crop that part out, too, dear?” He inquires.
“What part?” You ask, squinting. He points at the small face in the background, it’s so small in comparison to the rest of the image that his thick index finger practically buried it. “Geez, you’re quite the stickler. But I can do that for you.”
“Thank you,” He exhales. “You look amazing in this photo of course. So you don’t have to delete the photo.”
“Mhm.” You say, side-eyeing him a little.
Edward lets out a nervous laugh, hoping to relieve any awkward tension. “Shall we go to the home theater?”
“Actually let’s see a bathroom, preferably ones with nice large mirrors. I need to take a pic of my outfit of the day.” You suggest.
“As you wish.” He laughs, feeling his confidence mask slipping. From the way you grimace at him, you can surely tell he’s crumbling. Could it be that you could sense his old self shining through? That you can see that he’s just a husk of a man still even after all these years. There has to be someone he could convince that he’s made for you. Just one more good picture to show you that he’s as perfect as you.
You’re led to a guest bathroom with gold accents and pearly white floor and wall tiles. There’s two large vanity mirrors—in fact, every surface of this bathroom is reflective. Edward is hesitant to enter, watching you take your photos from just outside the door.
You shoot him an uncomfortable glance, placing your phone on the counter. “Are you just going to stand there like an old creep?”
Old.
He is old, isn’t he? Fading in youth and beauty while you’re currently in the thick of it. And all he can do is ogle you like a pervert in your presence, yearning for you to see him in a better light.
“I’m asking you to come in here, dude,” You laugh, taking his hands to drag him inside. “You owe me a selfie.”
“In here? Wouldn’t that be a little strange?”
“Not for the kinds I wanna take. Here is the best place,” You whisper in his ear, sending a chill down his spine. You’re so, so close. He can hardly breathe. “The lighting’s better in here anyway. Ya know, so we can best capture your features.”
You stared up at him with those curious wide eyes, studying him up close. He couldn’t possibly look appealing from this angle. He still has the faded scars of the surgery just under his chin. You shouldn’t have to see him this way. So imperfect.
“Great idea.”
“Awesome! So, we’re gonna take this quick photo op and then we’ll go back to consult with my parents on how I feel about all this place, yeah? Do you have any pointers for how you want to take this photo?”
“No flash photography,” He says with a half-heartedly cocky wink. “The exposure might over wash my face with light, making it look all blotchy and sharp. And keep it at a distance just about my waist so it’s not too close but not too far either.”
He’s just so funny and kind of pathetic to you that you can’t help but find it endearing. “Wow, you know your angles, that’s for sure. Must’ve had a lot of practice. Are you sure weren’t a photographer in another life?”
“Just gotta keep up appearances,” He laughs. “It’s what pays the bills.”
“So is it always so prim and proper with you? Can’t it be a little…raw? Sometimes things should be candid; in the moment. Perfect can be a little boring sometimes. “You turn for a moment to lock the door behind you then your hands are on his belt and your knees are on the floor. “I can show you the best way to take photos. Try this method once and you’ll always feel beautiful no matter what.”
Edward isn’t sure what to do, mouth dry. All he can do is let out a strangled gasp and whine. You’ve barely touched him yet and he’s already a mess.
Torturously slow, you forcefully untuck his shirt from his pants and begin to unbuckle his belt, rubbing your face up and down along the trouser’s fabric as you do so. Your eyes never leave his, wanting him to see your desire in them. Yanking down his underwear along with his pants, his semi-hardened cock is free of its confines. You pinch it between two acrylic fingers, holding it the way you would a little worm.
“Aww, how adorable.” You giggle, releasing his cock so it fell over his balls. You lap your tongue over the length of it before pulling away with a stick line of saliva connecting you two. He whimpers quietly, trying to hold back his facial expressions. Even in the throes of passion, he stresses his appearance.
You cup his large balls in your hand, bringing them to your lips to place a red lipstick stained kiss on each scrotum. “Now these are huge. So good for breeding your woman. I bet you’ve got so much cum in them just begging to impregnate.”
“Fuck…please.” Edward whines, white knuckling the marble sink behind him.
You take the uncircumcised tip into your mouth sucking on it lightly and his eyes roll back, lips parting in complete bliss. It’s been so long since he’s felt the warmth of an eager mouth around his cock.
“It turns me on seeing the way your face changes,” You sigh before lowering your mouth down his length once more. He swells at your praise, growing larger in size down your throat. You gag, pulling away as spit dribbles down your chin. “Ooo, a grower. You’re full of surprises, Mr. Guy.”
You suckle on his leaking tip, kneading his balls to milk him for all his worth. Edward’s facial expressions are beyond reserved by this point, allowing himself to enjoy your worship of him.
“I love you.” He rasps, mainly to himself but you hear his breathy words nonetheless.
You moan against him, cranking up your motions on his shaft. It shouldn’t turn you on this much that this stranger just to you he loved you. It was so pathetic and sickeningly that’s what made it all the more hot.
You dig your nails into the back of his thighs, taking his cock deeper until your nose brushes against his fuzzy pubic hair.
Edward suddenly gets the twisted plan to assure you as his for good. The thought of finishing inside you plagues his mind enough that he forces your mouth off him, yanking you to your feet, to bend you over the sink. He’s going to put a baby in you. You’ll be his forever then.
“I need to be inside you. I have to.” He whimpers, yanking your panties down your legs.
“I wanna look at you. Can I please?”
He answers you with a passionate kiss, turning you over so that he can wrap his arms around your rubenesque form to seat you on the cold marble.
Your kisses are sloppy and messy, neither of you able to remain controlled enough not to knock teeth or bite lips. Edward spreads your legs for him, sliding you down the counter just enough to close the gap between your bodies.
You remove his glasses that fogged within your heated entanglement. With one hand held his jaw in place, keeping him from hiding his face. The other went down between your bodies, guiding him inside you. You both let out groans at the euphoric feeling.
He starts out at a heavy pace, slamming himself hard and deep inside you. You barely have time to adjust, forced to take him the punishing pounding. Though, your eyes threaten to flutter close from the bliss, you keep your eyes locked on him watching his every facial expression.
“Look at yourself, baby,” You mewl. “You look so fucking good when you don’t care how you look. God, those pretty faces you’re making are gonna make me come so hard.”
He glances at himself in the mirror. His unkempt appearance startled him for a moment but then your nails rake down his back, stab into his buttocks forcing him deeper inside you and he’s soon abandoning any care. You begin to suck along his jawline, meeting him thrust for thrust.
His hands excitedly explore whatever they can touch: cupping your ass, squeezing your breasts, clawing his nails along your thick thighs, or holding you tight against him.
The sounds of your tryst are sheer filth as his grunts clash in time with your moans. Neither of you do anything to minimize your volumes, disregarding that your parents could be just outside the door hearing this.
You control him by his hair forcing him to look at you while his face contorted in pleasure. His lips are now swollen from the rough kisses, his hair and clothes are disheveled, and he’s far gone from bliss. He’s absolutely perfect for you like this.
“It’s… so wet,” He whispers hotly in your ear, considering it your only warning you’ll get before he shoots up his hot liquid inside you. He expects some resistance; for you to push him away. Instead, you draw him close, touching the tip of your panting tongue to his as you wrap your legs around him. You refuse to let go. “I’m close. Fuck, I’m so close.”
“Cum in me. Please, baby, please. I’m not on birth control. Need you to breed me. Wanna be owned by you.” You cry, clamping your teeth on his bottom lip in time with your clenching walls.
Once again, you both let out guttural groans in unison as you reach your explosive peaks. You sob, real hot tears streaming down your face as you finally received what you’ve been craving.
His euphoric expression singes into the back of his mind forever a memory. He’d never let loose this wildly with any woman. The two of you tremble against one another from the intense aftershock of your combined orgasms. Edward plunges himself into your wet heat repeatedly, filling the air with sticky clicking noises made by your combined fluids. Satisfied you’ve received every drop, he finally stills.
“I’ll think about closing on this house. On the condition that we christen every room in this place. My hope is that I can pull the most unholy faces out of you once I ride you like a horse,” You trace your finger along the salt and pepper stubbles on his chin. “Promise me you won’t hold back next time, pretty boy. I meant it when I said you owe another photo.”
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searchingforvivi · 12 hours ago
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RED LIGHTS [BangChan x Reader] 18+
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18+ MDNI !
CW : Boyfriend!Chan, riding, edging, cunnilingus
I sat in my car and let out a loud, dramatic sigh. I cannot believe my boss made me work on Christmas. The only thing on my mind at this moment is getting inside to my wonderful boyfriend. I opened the car door and made my way inside. "Babe?" I call out into the dimly lit house, the only source of light being the Christmas tree which sat just in front of the mantle where our stockings hang. Instead of the response I expected, I was met with a guttural moan coming from the bedroom. A smirk tugged at my lips. I practically ran to the bedroom.
I brought my hand up to shield my eyes as the adjusted to red LED lights of our room. Once my vision adjusted, i was met with a much more appealing sight. Chris had his head tossed back, face contorted with pleasure as he stroked himself. "Fucckk, love, help me, yeah?" I licked my lips before nodding and making my way over to him. He patted my ass, "clothes, off."
"As you wish," I teased. I intentionally slowly undressed myself, being sure to give Chan a good show. Running my fingers through my hair, I climbed on top of him, before pulling him into a sloppy kiss. He pulled away for a second before letting out a breathy moan. "Need you.."
"Well, you have me.. I'm all yours" I spoke with such confidence and reassurance that I nearly caught myself off guard. Chan moved his right hand to my waist gripping it firmly, but not roughly. His left hand went to work on my soaking wet center. I watched his every move with great focus. Chris moved his body lower and lower before looking up at me with a cocky smirk.
"May I?" I nodded and he licked a stripe up my center, causing me to let out a loud moan.
"Fuck, keep making those noises and I might just cum in my pants," I squirmed at the idea of making him finish untouched. He continued his brutal assault on my clit. I gripped his hair, desperately pulling him closer to gain more contact. He groaned against my heat at the sensation, prompting me to let out a pathetically loud moan. I felt a familiar sensation build up in my stomach.
"Ch-chan, close, s' close, fuck, so close" I murmured out between a string of moans and whimpers. Chris then inserted 2 digits into me and rapidly thrust them in and out. I felt my soul leave my body as I finally released. I felt my eyes flutter closed, only to be shot open upon the feeling of Chan lifting me.
"Not yet, baby, I need some pleasure too, hm?" Chris cooed. "You wanna be good for me, yeah?" I nodded weakly
Chris positioned me above his rather sizeable member, rubbing his length along my slit earning a whimper from me and a groan from him. I slowly lowered, grinning, hearing the guttural noises Chan was letting out.
"Fuck, so tight, baby, so so tight, yk that?"
He began pounding up into me at a brutal, animalistic pace, holding my hips in place.
"Cumming, mm fuck, cummin' babe" He thrust up into me one final time before releasing that sweet warmness into me.
"Merry Christmas,, love"
"Merry Christmas"
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merry christmas, ya filthy animal ❤
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lvrboy-inc · 7 hours ago
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"December" — Ariana Grande
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꒰: Précis | Shoko Ieri + Suguru Geto have a little bit of fun with you whilst Satoru is drunkenly sleep on the couch after a wild Christmas party..the tension is so visible.
꒰: Disclaimer(s) | Teasing, mild fighting over you, "gift wrapping" (bondage), Christmas outfits, cliffhanger..!
꒰: Word Count ; 1.8k
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Christmas Drabble
----
Christmas. What a time of year, right?
Chestnuts, cinnamon, sugar, mistletoe, bells, carolers and the spirit of joy that wafts in and out of every mouth, door and building around. What time of year is better? 
Especially when you get to spend it with two of your favorite people. 
“Come on, baby, don’t get too delirious on us, now..” The low, sultry voice of your lovely wife, Shoko Ieri, would coo at you as you lay wound up tight by bright red, silk ribbon. Fire crackling and presents all under the tree–not even opened and yet she had added one more that had to be unraveled..
Head perched in the lap of your colleague Suguru, he was idly twirling an end of the red length around his finger, all smug as he looked down at you. “He might be the prettiest present I’ve seen to date, Shoko. Say, maybe the Christmas dinner wasn’t enough for him to eat his fill, no?”
With a long drawl of your name, he ran splayed fingers down your chest and abdomen, only to stop at where Shoko was set up between your legs. You had to be dreaming or something. The worst part..? Well..Satoru was faaastt asleep, just a few feet away on the couch. Poor guy—couldn’t handle his liquor like he thought he could and ended up getting wayyy in over his head.
The party had been a hit–secret santa was also such a fun reveal for the entirety of Jujutsu High. Megs, Kugisaki, Itadori, Nanami—everyone, really—had joined in on the festivities. But, once Nanami had noticed not only that Satoru was getting a little too out of hand to properly and responsibly drop the kids back off at home, he offered, oh-so kindly to do the task instead whilst the rest of the company had dwindled down steadily.
Now, in the cleaned-up aftermath of the event—courtesy of Suguru—you found yourself a bit..tied up. Literally.
“You’re so right, Geto. I mean, I can’t have my favorite boy going without enough, now can I?” The question was asked toward Suguru but her soft brown eyes, reflecting the flickering of the flames that licked under the chimney were all on you. “Say, pretty boy, are ya ready for a bit of..Christmas fun?”
A gentle laugh left her and Suguru half-heartedly joined in as well, tugging the end of the ribbon just a bit tighter so that he could direct your attention up toward him. “It’s so rude to keep a lady waiting, y’know..go on, answer her.”
Swallowing dryly, you could already feel the throb that your cock gave—even being bound by a layer of the red bindings–and what wasn’t helping was that Shoko had already been distracting you all night. The festive dress she’d gotten just for you. And while it was all fine and dandy..you had to try your damn best not to gawk at what lay just under the soft cotton of her red dress. 
You know that God didn’t make you his strongest soldier for a reason.
Especially not when she had recently discarded the red lace panties that she’d been mildly teasing you with all night. Now grinding that pretty cunt against your thigh as she and Suguru exchanged laughs of amusement..meanwhile you were suffering under the duress of your own aching hard-on. You could hear the shlick, shlick, shlick as her hips slid back and forth against you.
Always so close yet so far where you really needed it to be. Suguru was just reveling in how you were so visibly distressed at being denied what you were indirectly yearning for. 
“Mhnn..S-Shoko..” You’d simper out. “Can you move just..a bit further up..?” Along with the ask, you’d slightly begun to rut your hips up–she shut all of that down. 
Her freshly manicured, red and white painted nails dug into your abdomen as she locked your hips in place. Awkwardly, the ribbon shifted and you couldn’t help but let out a low groan, tilting your head off to the side. Not having any of it, Suguru used his hand to direct your attention right back to Shoko, who’d finally started to rub her sopping wet pussy against your wrapped up cock. 
Oh, the friction was fucking devilish. She was practically soaking through the ribbon all on her own and all you could do was let your eyes roll at the dangling treat of being allowed to put it inside. 
“Aw, look at him, Ieri. He looks as though he’ll crack if you were to actually do something.”
With a sharp huff, you flitted your eyes up to his, “Is this not already, haah, ‘doing something’..?”
“Oh, you sweet boy,” Lightly tutting, he leaned down to brush his lips against the shell of your ear. “This is nothing.” A shiver ran down your spine at the deep husk of his voice and once again, a whine found its way out of your lips and you were right back to your mindless squirming. “If you can’t handle a little bondage and dry humping–how the hell do you even fuck her without cumming once you get it in?” 
A hot flush spread across your cheeks at the taunting and borderline mean words that he spoke. “I-I manage just fuckin’..f-fine. For your information..”
“Riiight, because your tip isn’t dripping just because her hot, wet, sloppy, drooling–”
“S-Suguru..” Shoko would puff out. “Leave him alone. He fucks me good, he fucks me long and it was damn sure better than any ‘experimenting’ that we did before.”
Rolling his eyes, Suguru resigned and opted to reach down for his belt buckle, unfastening and sliding it out with a symphony of clinks and clacks. “She must really like you, huh? Otherwise, she would’ve agreed that you’re a bit pathetic. Guess that’s what honeymoons do…diamonds are a woman’s best friend.”
“Oh, shut it. I didn’t invite you over here to condescend and lamely intimidate my husband. I invited you to be generous on Christmas. Since you’ve been gawking at ‘im in the office.” It was a bit odd—she sounded..jealous, almost. You must’ve been hearing things..Shoko doesn’t get jealous.
Your marriage was knowingly open-ended and you two were wildly open-minded. And yet, despite allll of that..you did  sometimes see the green begin to show whenever she got the inkling that she was being ‘shown up’ and or that someone was trying way too hard to show you up. 
Buttt, what all of those outside forces didn’t know was that you had something that couldn’t ever be found in any other man, woman, passerby, stranger, or long-term friend—you were absolutely, utterly, completely and hopelessly devoted to her and her alone. The amount of times in which you’ve had to reiterate that point was becoming staggering but you’d never once complained. Each time, it was in a new fashion or manner or tone—all praising her and reassuring her that despite how ‘open minded’ the two of you were—it has been and always will be you and her.
Suguru knew this all too well. But it never really deterred him from trying to stir the pot a bit. Either with your own minorly fragile ego or her own pride—don’t even get started on Satoru.
“Woah, put the claws away..I was just saying that if he ever gets a little..bored or..boring…you both know where to find me.” And with that, he had managed to unclasp his belt and drag it out from his belt loops with a resounding thud to the floor. In another instant, he was unzipping his fly and hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his baggy jeans. It wasn’t long until he was tugging them down, letting his fat cock slap up against his pelvis with a crude plap: slightly muffled by his thick Christmas sweater that Shoko had made a part of the party’s dress code.
Shoko, on the other hand, had apparently gotten a little impatient, seeing as she had begun to unfurl the coil of ribbon around your leaky tip, all the way down to your base with one sharp zip! of the thin, taut material. 
It was a little shocking how your body had reacted to the air hitting your sensitive cock once more, but even more so when she’d begun to use the copious amounts of pre that had gathered from the foreplay, as lube for her soft, delicate hands to start stroking you so tenderly.
Your head fell back and your mouth fell open. And as if on cue, Suguru was right there—or, his dick was, rather—giving a few playful slaps against your lips, staring down at you with those glinting, purple depths. “Oh my..guess the fire isn’t the only thing that’s getting us all warmed up tonight, huh?”
When he’d said that, you glanced down, trying to keep your voice down for the sake of the drunkenly forgotten Satoru who was sound asleep on your living room couch, even as Shoko was positioning herself over top of you. Slightly panting, she leaned forward with a loose hold on the base of your cock, slipping and sliding it back and forth alll along her slit. 
Her core was dripping down onto your tip, sliding down your shaft and with each pass, you had to bite back a groan that threatened to escape. Suguru had used a thumb to dip into your mouth, tugging your lips juust enough so that he could properly situate his tip on your tongue.
And like a crescendo—it all happened at once.
Suguru slid in, stuffing your mouth up until a small bulge obscenely formed in the side of your cheek and Shoko was fully hilting you inside of her with a moan that was—barely, scarcely, more like—held back. She wasn’t the only one, seeing as Suguru’s large hand had threaded through your locks and begun to hold you there, just trying to get a good, long feel for the warmth of your mouth. “Ahh..that’s it..” He’d lightly praised, caressing your cheek and hair methodically as his hips rolled to sink in deeper into your maw.
“Y-you took it all so well, sweetie..” Shoko had followed up, already with that slightly cockdrunk smile she always pulled when you bottomed out inside her. Even your voice had been hard to contain, given the way her cunt was so greedily eating up every inch of you.
Muscles tensing and arms flexing under the restraints of the ribbon that was still tied all around your body, you tried to manage your breathing properly for a time—which they gave you all due space to do—and once you’d gotten accustomed to both sensations, they gave a soft wry. It was nearly in sync.
“Merry Christmas, my love.” The soft purr of your wife would speak almost breathlessly over you. Beautifully acorn-colored locks draping over her shoulders and offering a small curtain in front of her face.
Suguru was the next to glance down, licking a stripe over his teeth. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” 
Just like that—your real Christmas fun began.
All with Satoru oblivious in the realm of temporary death—oh how he’d be so salty whenever he awoke from his drunken stupor.
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A/N: I wanted to follow the trend a bit and since the Suguru fit is next in queue, I gave a slight tease. This was real fun to write, for..many reasons. (I also had that one Shiu fanart in mind, as reference the whole time.) Happy holidays from your Loverboy..! 🎄🎁
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16 notes · View notes
rafeyscurtainbangs · 9 hours ago
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Awwwww 😭😭😭😭
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Ngl I got emotional too 😭😭😭😅😂
I’ve had some really consistent supporters throughout and it means so much that you kept showing up for me and ohmygod I’m getting emotional again 😭😭😭😭😭
𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼
𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬
𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝕋𝕨𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕪-𝔽𝕚𝕧𝕖: 𝔽𝕖𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕟’ 𝕃𝕦𝕔𝕜𝕪
𝙷𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚢!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
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warnings: mutual pining, swearing, drinking, rafe and the reader are intoxicated, oral (male + female receiving), bathroom sex, semi-public sex, spanking, unprotected p in v, pullout method, rough oral, dirty talk, praise wet + messy, cum tasting
📖 All of my asks got deleted 💕😭 so I'm not sure who requested this, but thank you! When you're getting hit on by a loser at your local college bar “boyfriend” Rafe comes in to save the day.
Masterlist
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Reader’s POV:
The crowd's roar is deafening as you sit pressed against the glass of the college hockey area. The game had barely begun, but the energy was already electric—hit after hit, shot after shot. Your friend Lexi shouts and claps, pulling you out of your daze as she bangs her wool mittens against the glass.
Rafe Cameron… Your eyes track him as he streams by confidently, his red and black jersey rippling behind him as he skates, dodging the defenseman on his way to the net.
You smile, biting your lip as you look at the man before you. He sat two rows ahead of you in your accounting class, the two of you exchanging no more than two words all year. Still, there’s just something about him that has your heart racing every time you see him.
“You’re staring,” your friend smiles, looking at you from the corner of her eye. She lifts her draft beer to her lips, grinning against the rim before sipping.
“What?” You giggle as you stuff your hands in your pockets. “Am not.” You lie as the warmth of your little crush creeps up your neck, pooling hot in your cheeks.
“Yes, you are, she teases. “And, honestly, I don’t blame you…”
You roll your eyes away, but you can’t get the smile off your face. Rafe skates by the student section, glancing briefly at the glass as he cleans the snow off his stick. The corners of his lips curl into a smile, making your pulse skip, but you quickly shake it off.
I mean, it was a good shift… He had to be happy about that; you explain it away.
After the game wore on, the players moved faster, hits got harder, and the scoreboard stayed locked at an even 2 to 2. You could feel the determination and intensity radiating off him every time he hit the ice; you couldn’t take your eyes off him—like you would’ve regardless.
With less than a minute of play, Rafe broke away from the traffic with the puck on his stick. The crowd rose to its feet, getting louder and louder the closer he got until he drew his stick back and fired at the net. The sound of the rubber puck clanged off the pipe, and the crowd went wild when the red light flashed. The buzzer drones, its sound quickly swallowed up in the Goal Song.
You jump to your feet, clapping and cheering with the crowd. Rafe skates toward the middle, grinning as his teammates mob him, but once that celebration breaks apart, he turns to the student section, helmet off, hair wet with sweat, staring directly at you, smiling, sealing the deal with a cheeky wink.
There was no mistaking it… The look, the smile, the wink. It was meant for you and you alone.
“Did you see that?” Your friend screams before you can even fully process what happened.
“I… Uh…” You stammer, looking at her to confirm what you saw before you say anything, knowing full-well she could be asking about the goal and not Rafe.
“Oh, please,” Lexi scoffs teasingly as she shoves you away. “That shit was for you, and you know it.”
The car ride to the bar was filled with music and laughter. You can't help but get lost in your thoughts. Replaying that moment a few times before opening Instagram, fingers hovering over the search bar.
“Just do it,” your friend laughs, watching it all; face twisting slightly as she catches you debating.
“I didn't ask you,” you chide light-heartedly.
“You’re thinkin’ about followin’ him… Just do it,” she challenges you.
“Do you think that he would have followed me if he was interested?” You ask as you look at his handsome profile picture.
You hesitate for another second, looking through a couple of his newer pictures. And just when you’re about to take the plunge, you look up at the little heart in the right-hand corner, seeing a new notification. New follower, Rafe Cameron.
Your eyes widen on the screen, and you and your friend gasp in unison. Before you can even think about it further, she clicks the little blue confirm button for you.
“What the hell?” You scold her, slapping her away.
“I’m invested, I’m sorry,” she laughs. “What? Were you gonna say ‘no’?” You shake your head ‘no’ and smile, looking at your new friend, feeling your excitement rise.
The bar downtown is packed with post-game and Saturday night traffic. The music is loud, and the energy is high as students pour in to celebrate the hockey team’s win and the start of winter break. You push through the crowd, making your way up to the bar. You order a few mixed drinks before snapping some pictures.
”Ooh,” Lexi coos. “That one’s perfect.”
You upload the pic of the two of you holding drinks, tagging the bar. It wasn’t entirely intentional—or that’s what you told yourself. If Rafe just happens to see it and shows up? Well, that was just a beautiful coincidence.
The night rages on, drinks flowing, conversations blending into laughter, more friends arriving, turning your little group of two into a full-on party. You start to relax a little more, feeling the liquor course through your system, and then you feel something else as a large hand rests on your lower back.
“Hey, Babe.”
Your eyes widen, and you freeze, hearing a voice you were not expecting nor wanted to hear. You turn slowly, coming face-to-face with Mark, a guy from your accounting class, too. The kind of guy who made you excited about the semester’s end. Unfortunately, he was the type of guy who never took ‘no’ for an answer…
“Hi, Mark,” you mumble, keeping your tone flat and uninterested, knowing that even the slightest bit of kindness would be confused for much more.
“You looking stunning tonight,” he praises as he steps even closer, making you take one step back.
“Thanks,” you sigh.
“You here with anyone?” He asks curiously as he scans the crowd. Your friend looks between the two of you—her judgment of his hidden piss-poorly. The girl was unapologetically Team Rafe all the way, and Mark Lundell is no Rafe Cameron.
“Just my friends,” you say as you swirl your finger around lazily, gesturing to your group gathered around.
“No invite?” He fake pouts and you feel your body recoil when you hear it. Mark seems to notice your disdain, but it doesn't stop him from trying. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you in possessively. You rest your hand on his chest, pushing away slightly, but he doesn’t get the hint.
“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you-”
“No thanks,” you shout over the music, not even curious about what he meant to ask.
He chuckles and scoffs playfully, turning his hat to the back as he moves his face closer. “Hey-Hey, don’t be like that,” he soughs.
You close your eyes, swallowing thickly as he continues to talk, wondering what it’s gonna take to get him to fuck off- “She’s with me,” Rafe’s voice rolls through your mind like a sweet dream.
You turn, breath catching as you see Rafe walking in, just a few feet separating the two of you with his big hands stuffed in his jacket. His sharp gaze locks on Mark, and he gives him a little whistle and a nod, kindly telling him to ‘fuck off.’
Mark scowls, looking down at you and then Rafe. “Cameron?” He asks. The two boys are familiar with each other from the gym locker room—exchanging glances when the baseball boys leave and the hockey boys arrive.
“I’m her boyfriend,” Rafe says smoothly, eliminating the space between you. Your heart stutters at the word, but Rafe doesn’t miss a beat, reaching behind you to shove Mark out of the way before taking his “rightful” place at your side.
“Since when?” Mark asks as his expressions shifts.
“Since none of your fuckin’ business, Lundell,” Rafe smiles, his tone calm but firm.
“You know, if you’re not interested, you can just say that,” Mark snaps, recovering from his bruised ego by turning to the bartender, gesturing for a new bottle of Coors. “You don’t need to be a fuckin’ bitch-”
“The fuck was that now?” Rafe smiles, his eyes wide and wild as he separates from you, standing toe-to-toe with him. Mark doesn’t back down, his chest puffed as he looks slightly up at Rafe.
Rafe bites his lips, holding back a laugh, his relaxed demeanor’s somehow more intimidating than any show of aggression.
“Call her a fuckin’ bitch again, and we’re gonna have a problem…”
“Oh, yeah-”
“Honestly, bitch. We already have problems because regardless of who the fuck I am, she told you no… And you kept pushin’,” Rafe hisses, emphasizing the final word with a rough shove.
Mark’s a big guy himself, who doesn’t move too far, but the contact made him flinch, leaving Rafe holding back yet another chuckle.
“Walk away,” Rafe mumbles, his voice low and steady.
Mark’s dark eyes lock on yours. The bartender walks over, resting his beer on the bar top. He takes his out, snagging the bottle off the hardwood before rolling his eyes and sucking his teeth, disappearing into the thick college crowd.
You breathe deeply, letting out the deep breath you didn’t know you’d been holding in, quickly turning your attention to Rafe.
“You okay?” He asks protectively as he twists toward you.
You look up at him, your heart racing, and you nod, “Yeah… Thanks for that.”
“No problem,” he shrugs it off. Rafe rests his hand on your lower back, making your heart race, lighting you on fire as he flags down the bartender himself. “You want a drink, princess?”
Before you can overthink it, you rise onto your tippy toes, kissing his cheek. Rafe freezes, a soft, shy smile spreading on his lips, making her feel weak.
“Truly… Thank you,” you whisper. “Do you want a drink? It’s on me,” you assure me, turning your attention to the bartender as she arrives, but you can tell Rafe’s mind is still stuck on the kiss. “Rafe?” You giggle, resting your hand on his chest, feeling his heart bang underneath.
“Uh… Yeah. I’d love that, sweetheart. A Coors. Thanks.”
You order your drink, and Rafe reaches over you, his arms a little longer. He passes the bartender his card instead, starting a tab as you protest, but he just rolls his blue eyes and smiles.
The rest of the night is a blur of laughter, easy conversation, and alcohol. Rafe’s charming, funny, and much more than the reserved guy you had seen in class.
You talk about everything—school, hockey, your favorite places in town—and with every passing minute, your little crush blooms into something more. You feel comfortable, like you’ve known each other forever. And to Mark and the rest of the bar, that little boyfriend title he used honestly looked like the real thing.
At some point, the drinks catch up with the both of you. Rafe leans closer, his breath warm against your neck, making you turn into him. The boy quickly pulling you up onto his lap.
“You know…” He says, his words slightly slurred. “I’ve had a big fat crush on you all semester.”
Your eyes widen on his, hands resting on his chest as your mouth falls open in surprise. “You have?” You practically gasp, making him laugh at how happy you look with his admittance.
“Mhmm,” he hums as he wraps his big arms around your waist, moving closer. “You’re so—fuck,” he chuckles as the words get caught on his lips. “You are so fuckin’ pretty.” You laugh and shake your head. “What?” He asks bashfully.
“You, Rafe Cameron, are the prettiest boy I have ever seen-”
“I’m pretty?” He chuckles, lifting his eyebrow as he points to his chest.
“Mhmm…” You giggle.
“Well, shit… Thank you,” he smiles and flutters his lashes playfully.
Just like Mark did, Rafe grabs his hat, twisting it to the back, trying to eliminate the space between the two of you, but unlike the boy before, your tummy only fills with butterflies. Rafe tips his heavy head against your temple, chuckling drunkenly.
“I’ve had a crush on you too,” you admit, and as soon as the last word leaves your lips, he’s wrapping his big arms around you, pressing a rough, wet kiss against your cheek, making you squeal.
“The fuck you have?” He asks as he pulls back fast.
“I’m serious," you giggle as you turn to the side, looking directly into his gorgeous eyes.
Rafe bites his lip, studying yours, his glassy gaze hanging at half-mast. “Well, shit… S’my lucky night. Huh?” He asks.
“Feelin’ pretty lucky myself,” you whisper as the two of you get closer and closer. The air between you feels electric—charged with the buzz of too many drinks and sexual tension. Rafe’s gaze flickers between your eyes and lips, the two of you not realizing how close you’re getting until your lips connect.
The bar around you hums in the distance, and it feels like just the two of you for the moment. It’s uncoordinated—but perfect in its imperfection. Your lips move against his, making heat radiate through your body. Rafe smiles against your lips; you return the same, the pair of you pulling apart, giggling like teenagers caught in the act.
You look at Rafe—that same fire lit his eyes that’s burning in yours. He holds your cheeks in his hands, desperate to kiss him again.
“Should we-”
”We should,” you hum.
“Do that again. Yeah?”
“Mhmm,” you giggle. Rafe guides you off the stool, pulling closer, the two of you stumbling slightly, giggling before your lips find each other again.
“We’re kinda drunk,” he whispers against your mouth.
“Is that okay?” You breathe, just hoping he’ll say ‘yes.’
“It’s okay with me. Is it okay with you, princess?” He asks.
“It’s okay-” You pant as your lips crash into his, warm and messy. You let out a soft moan against his lips, hands scratching into the hair at the nape of his neck as his hands roam your body. His grip on you is firm—yet another assurance that he wants you just as bad.
The world spins around you, your head fuzzy from the drinks and your perfect kiss. You break away just enough to grab his hand, tugging him toward the hallway. "Where are we-" Rafe starts, but you cut him short with another kiss, this one hungrier, more insistent.
"The bathroom," you whisper against his lips, feeling him smile again. Rafe draws back, looking both ways before opening the door. The two of you kiss your way inside, pushing back into the first open stall.
Rafe grabs your hips in his big hands, pulling you into him. You can feel his semi-hard cock pressed against his jeans, getting stiffer every second. You let out a breathy sigh against his soft, sweet mouth, Rafe taking the opportunity to slide his tongue inside as his lips move against yours.
He rolls his back against the bathroom wall, making you gasp as his thigh splits your legs. He leans back slightly, guiding you closer, leading you to grind your aching clit on his upper thigh. Rafe smiles against your lips as you take his wordless direction. He moves his hands from his lips to your ass, squeezing as you rock with the tempo of your kiss.
You gasp as you feel his cool hands rest against your tummy, your little breath turning into a deep, needy moan as he cups your laced-covered breasts in his rough hands.
You continue to grind as his lips press roughly against your neck, sucking with a bruising strength as you feel a warmth spread through you, little pangs of pleasure spurring from between your thighs.
You draw back slightly, biting your lip as you ride his leg. Rafe stares back at you, the look in his eyes painting a filthy picture of the two of you doing so much more. Thinking about you riding him just like this, your warm, wet cunt hugging him tight.
You can feel yourself soaking through your panties with each swivel of your hips. You grab his beautiful face, pulling him in for another kiss, hungry for more. “Rafe,” you whisper needily, your name leaving his lips so sweetly, making him moan into your kiss.
“Yeah, pretty?” He rasps, this voice sweet and thick like honey.
“Can I?” You ask shyly, but honestly, it’s why you brought him in here in the first place, desperately wanting your lips wrapped around him and maybe more…
“Can you what, princess?” He drawls before taking your bottom lip between his teeth, biting and tugging, making chills fall down your spine.
“Can I suck your cock?” You ask gently, feeling Rafe let out a breathy laugh like he can’t believe those words are leaving your sweet lips.
“You sure, baby?” He asks as he reaches his hand down, already working on his button.
You move down to your knees, looking at him through your lashes. “M’sure,” you smile. “Very, very sure.”
You grope his clothed cock with one hand, drawing his zipper down with the other before lowering his pants just enough, looking at his dick tented under the cotton, a wet stain of precum gathered on it. You wrap your lips around his tip, wetting Rafe’s boxers, making his breath catch in his muscular chest.
You suck the taste off, quickly pulling down his boxers too. Your eyelashes flutter as you take him in, his tip still weeping precum, long and thick… You release a desperate moan, thinking about what his length would feel like pushing in and out of your wet cunt, wondering if you could take him all.
You stroke him slowly, watching his eyes fall shut, head falling back on the metal partition. Your heart sinks a little, seeing his head sticking out over the top of the stall about four inches; those concerns quickly wave away as you hear a deep groan leave his lips.
Rafe looks down at you again as you hold his throbbing dick in your hand, running your tongue along his length before teasing the tip. Your hand drifts under his t-shirt, fingers working up his cut abs, feeling the little divots under your fingers deepening with each sharp breath he takes.
“Shit,” he pants as you bind your lips around him fully. Rafe wraps his hand around the top of the bathroom door, squeezing tightly as you take him to the back of your throat, bobbing again and again.
Rafe’s head falls back, knocking against the wall, making his eyes double at the loud sound; the man quickly shushing you with a finger up to his pretty lips and a playful smile like you had anything to do with that noise.
You wrap your lips around his tip, sucking, causing him to buck his toned hips, pitching his long cock in your throat. You lift your hand, slipping it through the slight space between his body and jeans, cupping his heavy balls in your hands.
"Fuck, princess," he groans, "I’m gonna cum.” You take your cue, gagging on him, salvia and precum drooling out of the sides of your lips. He bites his lips, stiffening deep moan.
You rest your hands on his thighs— Rafe’s muscles quivering underneath your palms. He cups the back of your head in his hands, tugging you as close as he can get as he cums deep in your throat.
His breath shudders as you draw out the last bits of his pleasure, swallowing it all as he looks down at you in a drunken, lust-ridden daze. Rafe pushes out a sharp breath as you pull off his cock nice and slow, cleaning off your lips with the back of your hand as he helps you off the floor, leading you back to him. You pant into your kiss, your deep breathing competing with his. “That was so fucking good,” he mumbles.
“Mmm… Glad I could make you feel good,” you whisper as you tug up his boxers, trapping his hard cock in the band of it, not wanting to pressure him into more, given you were the one that pulled him in here in the first place. “Should we head out?” You ask, between soft kisses.
“I don’t wanna,” he mumbles. “Do you?”
You giggle against his lips, moving a little closer. “No… I just don’t wanna pressure-“
“Pressure me?” He asks in disbelief, stopping you before you can finish the thought as his big hands cup your cheeks, pulling you into an even deeper kiss. “You fuckin’ kiddin’ me?”
“I don’t know,” you giggle lightly.
“You can use me however you’d like, princess,” he whispers. “Told you… It’s my lucky night. I’m feelin’ lucky. I’m gettin’ lucky. This is the best night I’ve had in a very long time,” he mumbles the last three words between tender kisses. ”Let me taste you, sweetheart.”
”Yeah?” You ask softly.
“Fuck, yeah…” He hums as he fingers the button of your jeans. “Let me get you good and wet first, hmm?” He asks as he rolls you against the wall.
Rafe tugs at your pants just like you did, making you gasp, pulling them down just enough to get at your panties. He slips his big fingers into the waist pant, spreading your legs slightly, making you whimper as he runs two big digits through your slick folds.
“Shit, pretty. Fuckin’ soaked f’me already,” he hums against your lips. “Bet you’d feel so good wrapped around my cock.” He pushes his fingers inside you, making you reach for a breath; Rafe curls them, drawing out a moan from your pillowy lips.
“I want that so bad,” you pant as you stare into his sin-darkened eyes as he starts to work even quicker, broad palm smacking against your puffy clit repeatedly, making it that much harder to hold back your sounds of pleasure.
“You want my dick, princess?”
“Mhmm…” You hum needily.
“Think you can wait?” Rafe teases as he twists his hand, making a moan rip from your throat that has you both looking at each other in shock, fighting back a laugh that quickly turns into another whine as his rough thumb circles on top of your clit.
You bite down on your bottom lip, tossing your head back, and just when you think it can get any better, he moves to his knees, flicking his tongue across your clit, making your muscles jump as his fingers continue to dart in and out. Rafe chuckles against your clit, the warmth of his voice making you whimper, toes curling, fingers twisting in his hair.
“Just like that, Rafe… Don’t stop,” you plead as you feel yourself about to lose control completely.
“Cum for me, princess,” he hums against your sex, the vibrations sending you over the edge, leaving your body fluttering around his big fingers, muscles trembling uncontrollably. He doesn’t stop until your body relaxes fully, you fighting for a breath as you slump against the bathroom wall.
“Holy shit,” he practically moans as he rises to his feet again, his handsome face flushed, chin glistening with your arousal. You pull Rafe to your lips, tasting the two of you together, your body feeling like it could float away.
Rafe pushes you into the wall, his cock hard just like it was before—his want for you practically oozing off his skin. “So, should we get out of here?” He teases you with your own words, chuckling against your lips as you giggle against his; Rafe has no intention of leaving unless that’s what you want. You have no intention of leaving either as you tug at his jeans and boxers again. “Need you so fucking bad,” Rafe mutters as he turns you around, grabbing your wrists, guiding your hands on the wall in front of you as you push your ass onto his hard cock.
Rafe’s hands drift underneath your hockey jersey, lifting it slightly as you bend over. “Gonna get you one of my older jerseys when we get home, aight?” He hums, smacking your ass with his big hand.
“You’re takin’ me home?” You ask sweetly.
“Yeah, baby… ‘Course I am,” he drawls as he leans in, pressing his chest against your back, pushing a gentle kiss on your lips as he traces his fat tip through your slit, bumping your clit, making you gasp.
“We doin’ condoms or what, princess?” Rafe questions as he bullies your hole, bottom lip tucking between his teeth, teasing himself with your warm, wet pussy praying you’ll say ‘no.’
“Boyfriend privileges,” you giggle as you look over your shoulder and smile, giving him a little wink.
“Fuck, I love the sound of that, baby-”
You draw in a sharp breath against as Rafe thrusts into you slowly, his fat tip filling you before he presses in inch by inch, finally bottoming you out. His hands rub along your lower back, letting you adjust to his size; your cunt pulling him in just like he imagined, leaving him tossing his head back to the ceiling.
Rafe grabs your hips, grunting about how tight you are as he pulls out to the tip, shoving himself back inside, making you reach behind your back, wrapping your trembling hand around his wrist to steady yourself and keep from crying out.
The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the bathroom, but you couldn't care less. And neither does Rafe, slapping your ass again, making your pussy tighten around his fat cock as he ruts into you quicker and harder.
“Holy shit,” you whimper, your bottom lip quivering in overstimulation.
“Mpfhh…” He grunts, pounding into your soaked center again and again. “So good, princess… Taking me so fuckin’ good. You gonna cum? Fuckin’ cum for me,” he begs as he pulls you back fast, pistoning his hips, fucking you on his dick as your fingers spiral on your clit.
“Oh—Oh, fuck. Rafe,” you squeal as you cum around his cock. Rafe’s jaw tightens, using his last bit of power to fuck you through your orgasm, and the second he pulls out, you gasp, feeling his climax land hot on your lower back. His cum pools in the dip of your spine, rolling down your warm skin.
Rafe clutches your hips in his hands, taking a deep breath as his throbbing dick resting on your ass. The two of you panting and groaning, coming down from your highs together.
He cleans you off, helping you back into your clothes between soft kisses and sweet nothings. Rafe looks at your sweater, scrubbing off a little bit of cum caught on the fabric, making a joke about how he’s technically on the back of your jersey now, making the two of you laugh way too hard.
Rafe’s hand is warm in yours; his firm yet gentle grip guides you through the packed bar. Laughter and music swell around you, but all you can focus on is Rafe’s touch and his thumb gently brushing against your hand.
The two of you step up to the bar at the same spot where you started your night, standing side-by-side with your knight in shining armor. You glance up at him and smile as he orders you two drinks before closing your tab.
Rafe kiss-swollen lips curl into a small smile as he feels the heat of your gaze out of the corner of his eye. He grabs the check off her hands, scribbling a tip and a total. Rafe sets it down and moves a little closer, stepping chest to chest with you; your back backed up against the bar. His hair is messy from your bathroom romp; slightly mussed, a soft purple mark forming on his neck from your lips, a particularly rough kiss.
Rafe grabs your hand, flipping it over, pen hovering over your palm. You watch as he works: his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth, his chicken scratch handwriting tattooing your skin, but the words stop your heart.
Tomorrow night 7 pm Luna Rosa I like you a lot -RC
You blink, rereading it like your brain is playing tricks on you. But then he looks at you—those intense, drunken eyes locked onto yours—and kisses the back of your hand.
“I mean it, princess,” he mumbles softly. “In case you had any doubts.”
You rise on your tippy toes, kissing his cheek again like you did earlier in the night before tucking yourself in his neck. “I really like you too, Rafe,” you whisper.
When you pull away this time, he’s not just stunned silent; he’s ready. Rafe cups your cheeks in his hands again, kissing you deeply, pulling you into his arms, and there is absolutely no doubt. ♥️
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tags: @rafesthroatbaby @littlelamy @kisses4angels @watchmerora @buckybarnessweetheart @anamiad00msday @namelesslosers @cades-outsider @romaescapes @starkeysprincess @oxpogues4lifexo @unrealmirrorball @sleepiibunniiii @gri959 @rafesgiirl @daryldixon83 @akobx @hyperfixationgirl @lhhlver @rrafeswhore @slut-4-gojo @blair-bears-blog @loveesiren @cameronwillow @rafegf-real @alphabetically-deranged @ariana2saucyy @rafestoothbrush
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slytherinslut0 · 21 days ago
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SLYTHERINSLUT0’S RIDDLEMAS
dec 4th. tom riddle — bondage, begrudgingly!sub tom.
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RIDDLEMAS MASTERLIST. | 2024
summary: revenge is sweet—but getting tom riddle to beg is so, so much fucking sweeter.
warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, reader gives tom a lust potion in retribution, PIV, desperate sex, tom so out of sorts he doesn’t even know what he’s saying, so much teasing it’s painful, dirty talk, light bondage, choking.
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All is fair in love and war.
This might not be love, but it isn't just war, either. It's something messier, something darker, something with teeth. Every time you and Tom Riddle play this game it seems to follow the same trajectory, almost like a dance—step, feint, clash, retreat—a push and pull, a ritualistic give and take until someone takes a little too much and the tension boils over to something like this. 
A locked door. A stolen breath. His body pressing yours into some surface and his hands on your throat, or in your hair, or at your waist with—
"You did something to me." Growled at your neck. 
Right now, expectedly, is no different.
"What could I possibly have done to you?" You drawl, bored blowing off your breath. "The great Tom Riddle himself."
You want to sound dismissive, condescending—just enough to light a match to his already fraying patience—but Tom is too keyed up to take the bait, and that alone thrills you. You can feel the heat radiating off him. Smell the clean, addictive scent of his hair, the musk of dark magic religiously woven into his skin. 
He smells intense, and it makes you dizzy.
Makes you reckless.
"You’re funny," he exhales, the force of it stirring your hair. He's ripping off his jacket now, rolling up his sleeves like he's ready to wrestle the devil himself. "This is your idea of revenge, isn't it?"
There's a shrug, something vindictive set in your shoulders just to get under his skin that much more—spurred on by the sheer state of him before you; those perfect curls a mess, onyx eyes burning with something primal. 
"This, meaning what, exactly?" You watch the corded tension in his neck tighten as he shoves his hair back, hands visibly unsteady. "You'll have to be more specific."
He lets out a stifled groan from somewhere deep in his chest at that—he's struggling, and he knows you know it, a delicious little factoid that has his patience stretched so thin it's almost see-through—
"You're enjoying this," he snarls, forcing himself over to a nearby loveseat and slumping down into it. His voice is half-hoarse, strangled by the effort it's taking him to keep this much distance between you. "You—fuck."
There we go. 
Unable to stall the grin off your lips any longer, you move forward with something predatory—something devious in each step perfectly placed just to spite him—a deliberate sway of the hips, the slight rise and fall of your chest—anything, really, just to break him that much faster. 
He's right. This is your revenge. 
"Oh, Tom," you creep around behind his chair, lips leaning toward his ear. "Are you feeling alright? You're looking hot."
You take note of the way his jaw pulses as he grinds his teeth. The way that one simple word from your mouth—spoken in the type of low, sultry tone that could make even a dead man hard—affects him.
"You're wicked," his head falls back to look up at you, lips glistening like he's salivating over the mere sound of your voice. Still, he's fighting it—still trying to deny you the satisfaction. "Did you know that?"
"You love it," you murmur, fingers slipping their way over his shoulders, down his chest. You lean closer, catching sight of the sharp bulge straining against his trousers. "Look how much you fucking love it."
Another stifled groan. 
"You don't want to do this, sweetheart," he hisses—and there's the nickname, the nickname you've told him you hate. His way of retaliation. "Not now." 
"And why not?" Your fingers dip lower, tracing over the definition of his abdomen. "Because you're not in control? Or because I am?"
He's fighting himself—you see the war play out on his face in the way his brows knit together—the way his lips part briefly only to swallow back whatever words were about to crawl out of them. 
He's never been very good at being at anyone's mercy, least of all yours. 
"You think you're in control," the words rasp against his throat, as if speaking them too loud might shift the balance. "You're delusional."
"Maybe," you whisper, lips brushing his cheek, the curve of a smirk curling into your voice. "Maybe I'm absolutely batshit." Your hand slips downward, slowly, over his stomach to his belt, fingers ghosting the buckle. "But we both know why you dragged me in here, Tom. Don't we?"
He scowls.
"You—" 
The moment you brush against his bulge with the barest touch, his hips jerk forward—words disintegrating, raw instinct betraying his restraint.
"God, look at you." You nearly choke on the heat between you. If this isn't the sexiest fucking thing you've ever seen. "Just admit it, Tommy. Admit you need me to fi—"
You don't get to finish. Something in him snaps—
"Fucking—" he's moving on auto-pilot, hands reaching up to seize you and yank you closer. "—fix this, then." 
In a blink, you're in his lap with his grip on your hips and he's growling—one hand slipping up to the back of your head to fist your hair and force your mouth to his before you get the chance to snap back—
And as soon as your lips collide it's a fight for dominance—teeth clashing as your tongues tangle, both of you biting and pulling at each other like animals. You're grinding against him and he's excruciatingly-hard beneath you and you can practically hear the intensity of it, both of you caught up in the sheer feral force of this—no rhyme or rhythm, no control—just hunger, desperate and unrelenting, like something unleashed that neither of you can put back in its cage.
After all but an eternity of this, you wrench back with force, breaking the kiss and shoving yourself upright. His head falls back against the chair, chest heaving, his lips slick and parted, pupils blown wide and glittering with fury—or lust. You’re sure it’s a bit of both.
He's trying to gain control, his hand still fisted in your hair, arms trapping you in place like he thinks he can still win this. 
But you see him now, raw and undone, and you know better.
"You want me to fix this," you murmur, skating your fingers over his chest lightly enough to make him twitch. "Then put your hands on the armrests."
He wants to fight that, you can tell—wants to yank you back into him, wants to wield that weapon of a tongue—but other things take precedence now, like you, here, on his lap—so close to giving him everything he needs.
You think, to him, the demand must sound less like an order and more like salvation. 
He all but slams his hands down onto the armrests.
You smirk. "Good boy."
Unsurprisingly, he scowls again, a dangerous flash in his eyes—but that doesn't stop his hips from jerking greedily when you grind down against him—fingers digging into the leather underneath them, twitching like they want to make you do it again. 
That doesn't escape your notice. 
"Mm. Just incase." Pulling out your wand, you cast a spell that binds his wrists to the chair. "I know how you are." 
His expression shifts instantly, lips curling back into something like a snarl as he yanks at the invisible binds. They don't budge—your work is seamless—his own spellwork mastered and turned against him.
"I'm going to fucking digest you," he spits, all venom and heat, eyes blazing as he pulls harder. "When I get out of this chair, you'll—oh, you'll beg for-"
You shut him up with your mouth, crushing your lips to his. It's all teeth and tongue, desperate and wild, as your nails rake down his chest and he arches into you—
"Who says I don't like it when you make me pay, baby?" You breathe, biting his bottom lip hard enough to draw a groan from deep in his throat. "Maybe it's my favourite part."
For a moment he doesn't respond—he knows that's true. You love this game too much not to toe the line when possibilities arise. He's pulling uselessly at the binds again as you roll your hips against him, dragging him further into ruin.
"You are," he chokes out, head tilting back as your teeth scrape along his jaw, "an infuriating, wicked little witch."
You huff against his skin, against the pulse point at his throat and the sensitive area under his ear—he's squirming—making strangled, animal sounds that have you seeping through your panties. 
"You're only just noticing?" You’re drinking in his hypersensitivity for all it's worth. "You're losing your touch."
He scoffs, or tries to—it comes out closer to a moan stuck between shallow breaths. 
"Noticed it...the day I met you," he gasps, hips jerking up as you rock against him. "But, fuck—you've gotten a hell of a lot worse."
Perhaps he's right. Perhaps it's the company you keep—specifically, the one pinned beneath you. 
"You're just mad I'm beating you at your own game," you’re grinding down harder, fingers drifting to the buttons of your blouse. "You're a terrible loser."
"And you're—" he starts, but his words falter when you pull the last button free and shrug the fabric off your shoulders, exposing black lace and soft skin. "—an insufferable winner."
"I think the real problem," you toss your shirt to the floor, hands returning to slide down his chest again, undoing his buttons now. "Is that you secretly love losing to me." 
You'd think that would earn another snarl from him—or perhaps a sharp retort about how he'd never lose to anyone, or how he’d never enjoy being at your mercy—but he's clearly too far gone to keep up with even that as he watches you, all but trembling at your touch. 
"Stop—“ he twitches when your fingers glide over his exposed chest, trailing lower. "—talking."
"Make me," you make your way to his belt buckle, taking your time to undo it, sliding the leather free before moving to the zipper of his pants, dragging it down even slower. "Oh, wait. You can't."
He’s helpless to fight the growl you force out of him at that—a vicious sound that makes you clench. His fingers tighten around the armrests, yanking hard against the bonds holding him in place. Useless, you both know, but it doesn't stop him from trying, from straining against them like he might will them to break through sheer desperation alone. 
He exhales through his teeth. "Stop teasing." 
"Now where's the fun in that?" you dip your hand below the waistband of his boxers. He jerks beneath you as your fingers tease just enough to make his breath catch. "You should be grateful l'm taking pity on you—" your tone as soft as it is mocking, "—being oh so kind to help-"
Another groan, another almost snarl. "Stop. Teasing." 
Oh, how the tables turn. You know precisely how he's feeling—you've been here like this, with him, a million times before. It’s the sweetest torture. One you’re sure he doesn't want you to stop—not really. Not with a lust potion dripping from his pores. 
He fucking needs this.
"And what happensssss," you drag your words out as your fingers glide slow, featherlight strokes up and down his rock of an erection. "If I don't?"
His response is a wrecked string of profanity—some of it strangled, some of it guttural, and none of it in English. He's not even remotely coherent anymore, and you're not surprised. Eloquence had abandoned him long before you'd even stepped into the room.
"I will—" he hisses through clenched teeth as you tease your thumb over his leaking tip, "— fuck—I will fuck your ass so hard—“
Now that gets a moan from you—the filthiness of his words, at the way his voice drops so dark and low it should probably be a fucking felony. He's swearing, writhing, desperate, and you're absolutely dripping from it—from the way Tom Riddle has unraveled into this devastating, feral thing underneath you.
"Is that what you're thinking about right now?" Another murmur, lips brushing against his ear as you shift to tug his pants and boxers down. "Fucking my tight ass? Punishing me?"
"Without mercy," he spits, breath hitching as you free him—his cock springing out, thick and throbbing, twitching in time with his shallow gasps. "Fuck—"
You pull away to get a better look at him—and god, the sight almost makes you lose your mind. The man always so put together, always so self assured and smug and in control of every goddamn thing—reduced to this. 
"Such a vulgar mouth, for such a pretty face," leaning forward, you lick a slow, deliberate stripe up his neck. He tastes like sweat and sin. Just how you like him. "Tell me more."
"Fuck," his head tips back involuntarily, exposing his throat to you like it's instinct. He's twitching as you grind your slick heat along his shaft, soaking him, teasing him until his hips buck up against you. "Put me inside you—"
You're barely holding onto yourself, every roll of your hips against him leaving you dizzy and aching—but you drag it out, grinding down harder.
"That's an order, isn't it?" You breathe, catching his earlobe between your teeth. "You giving me orders now?"
"I'm giving you pleas," he rasps. "You fed me a potion that's made me so hard it physically aches, and now you're sitting here—fucking teasing me—"
"Retaliation," you reply with a smile. "You're the one who thought it was a good idea to feed me a truth serum before dinner at Malfoy's."
That night still lingers in both of your minds—things involuntarily said that can't ever be unsaid. Things that still make Draco avoid your eyes at every turn.
"A mistake," he grits out. In any other moment, you know he'd be smirking. "A mistake—I'll admit it, fuck-"
"You're not the type to make mistakes," it’s a true statement, one overridden by the feeling of his dick twitching as your hips still, going maddeningly idle. "You wanted the Malfoy’s to know I'm yours. And now, well, now I have to show you that you're mine."
There’s a moments pause at that. One that makes you realize just how loud your pulse is pounding in your ears. Tom looks at you, holding your eyes until—
"I am," he concedes, finally throwing in the towel with a gasp that's half desperation, half devotion. "Yours. So fucking take what's yours."
"Oh, baby," you purr, cupping his cheek in your palm. He leans into it without realizing, like he's starving for your touch. "I always do."
And with that, you rise up—slick soaked inner thighs leaving damp spots against his half pulled down trousers—humming with a smirk as you slide a hand over his chest, nails raking over his skin, holding him down against the chair—
"Be still," an order. "Or I'll take it a hell of a lot slower."
His whole body shudders at that—but does what he's told and keeps still—chest swelling with each shallow breath as he watches you—dark eyes flicking from your lips to your tits to your cunt—muscles straining and wrists firm against their binds. 
"Just—do it," he mutters through parted lips and clenched teeth—squeezing his eyes shut. "Please."
The world stops. Time freezing to nothing. You swear you'd forgotten how to breathe.
Please. Like it's a holy thing, a sacred word to be used only in worship. Like he's said something he's never uttered in his life. Please. Like a prayer, like a begging benediction. You'd never loved the sound of anything from his lips quite like you do that. 
You will hear it again. You long to make him say it until he forgets every other word he knows.
"How could I refuse that?" His eyes fly open as you reach down, gripping his aching length and gliding the head against your soaked slit. "Fuck, you're so big. So hard."
"Hard," he echoes as his hips buck involuntarily, seeking more friction. "Because this is—torture."
"And whose fault is that, Tommy?" You taunt, just barely sinking down, letting the tip of him sit against what you know he wants. "Oh, that's right. Yours."
"Mine," he grunts before his patience finally snaps in half and he jerks his hips up—shoving his cockhead inside you with a strangled moan. "Fucking mine."
Oh, Merlin help you.
Your head falls back with a moan, eyes slipping shut as the sensation steals the breath from your lungs. He stretches you in the way only he can, and for a moment, you think you should punish him for disobeying you by taking back control—but you can't bring yourself to care about anything other than how fucking good it feels.
"Yours," you breathe, rolling your hips to take him just an inch deeper. "All yours."
"More," his voice cracks, the veins in his neck straining. "Take more. Please."
Theres the word again—please. It makes you weak, makes you greedy. Makes you break and give in on the sheer knowledge of how much it fucking pains him to say it. 
"Oh, gods"" you moan, shifting your hips to take him deeper still, inch by aching inch. "Fuck."
"Take it," he sneers, as if it's his turn to taunt you. Even like this, he's still the same bastard. "You can take more than that."
You curse lowly and sink your nails into his chest for it—because it's the kind of challenge you can't win, even like this you know you'll still lose. He knows it too. 
"I can," you hiss, sinking another inch deeper, and then another. "But can you?"
"Can I?" There’s a mocking lilt to his voice that knows. "Release my wrists, and we'll see."
Christ. That's a question you don't want to answer because you know anything other than yes would be a lie. It's tempting. You know as soon as you let him go he'd put those beautiful hands to use—he'd take back control and you'd immediately let him. Like a lamb to the slaughter. 
Even if this is supposed to be his punishment.  
"Be," you gasp, sinking down all the way and clenching tight as he kisses your cervix. "Quiet."
He lets out a sharp, strangled curse—a guttural string of something you think might either be Latin or Parseltongue—something rough and beautiful all at once—and you decide, right then, that it's undoubtedly the most sinfully delicious thing you've ever heard. 
"I love it when you swear," you manage to breathe out through moans, rolling your hips and savouring the stretch, the ache, the impossible fullness of him inside you. “And I love it even more that it's in languages I don't know—makes me wonder what you're saying."
"Things that'll get me slapped," he grunts, and the tone he uses is the one that promises trouble—trouble, if you let him go. "Or hexed, perhaps."
"Mm. I should hex you right now. I’m considering it," you’re gasping between moans, pleasure buzzing in your brain. "So hard."
"I think, right now," the words split between a groan as your nails leave faint red lines on his shoulders—as you clench around him again, dragging your slick walls up and down his shaft in rhythm. “If you tried to hex me, I’d let you. If it meant you’d keep going.”
You almost take him up on it. You love him like this far too much. So much it’s almost pathetic.
"Good boy." You force the words out, fighting through the sting on your cervix every time he bottoms out inside you, slamming against it. "So. Fucking. Good."
"Jesus Christ," he chokes, muscles taut as the veins in his neck strain. His hips jerk up to meet you at every bounce, greedy for more. "Don't stop."
"Oh, I won't," you dig your nails deeper into his skin for balance. The sting shoots through his body, his reaction delicious. "Not until l've made you swear to every god in the sky."
"Shouldn’t take long," he hisses through his teeth, shoulders cresting as your pace grows faster, more erratic. "I'm practically praying now."
"Good," you breathe, thighs burning as the heat coils tight and relentless inside you, every roll of your hips making you feel fuller, wetter, closer to falling apart. "I want to hear you pray my name."
"You're sadistic," he hisses. "Fuck."
"Pot, kettle," you taunt, biting lightly at the curve of his neck—not hard enough to bruise, but just enough to make him feel it.
The sound he makes—half moan, half growl—is filthy.
"Oh, you like that, don't you?" You murmur, dragging your lips toward his ear, breath molten. "You like pain. I know you do."
"I'd like to inflict some right about now," his voice breaks as you nip at his earlobe. "My hands on your throat. That smart fucking mouth—"
"Mmm," you hum, rolling your hips slower, deeper. "And what would you do with it?"
"Fill it," his voice is broken, head tipping back as his body begs for release. "Fuck. I'm so fucking close."
"You're filthy when you're desperate," you whisper, dragging your hand up to his throat, fingers wrapping around it, squeezing just enough to make his breath hitch. "I fucking love it."
His eyes flash—for a moment, you're not sure how he'll take it—your hand curling around his neck, fingers pressing against the pulse hammering beneath his skin. The unpredictability of him—always teetering between fury and something far more intense—makes you hesitate, even in this state. You wonder if he'll snarl, buck you off, or somehow counteract the spell to rid of the restraints entirely—
But all he does is swallow against it, hips jerking up, cock pressing bruisingly deep—dark eyes fixing on your lips, wild and glassy with want—
And then, he fucking grins. "Tighter."
"Freak," you moan far too loudly, heat pooling low in your belly as you oblige, tightening your grip. You bounce faster, adrenaline fuelling you, panting growing sharper with every wild bounce. "Cum for me."
"Like I have a choice," he rasps, voice shredded, his teeth gritted as his eyes squeeze shut. "Fuck—ffffff—"
The sound he makes when he finally breaks—guttural, filthy, your name torn from his lips—is fucking devastating. Devastating enough to drive you directly to your own orgasm, eyes rolling back and crying out words you aren’t even aware of as he shudders and jerks and tenses underneath you.
"Oh, fuck-yes," you breathe, riding him through it, clenching hard until the aftershocks start to fade out, as you slow your pace. “Tom—“
"God," he gasps, his head falling back in exhaustion, voice stumbling over the word. "God. Fuck."
The incoherence coming from his mouth is a treat—and through your fog, for only the most fleeting of moments, you wonder who exactly he's praying to when he says that.
His chest is rising and falling like he's just run miles, sweat-slick skin glowing in the low light. His head rolls forward, eyes still heavy-lidded, and when they meet yours, there's something feral still dangling in their depths. A lingering hunger that makes your breath hitch.
"That's what you wanted, wasn't it?" He finally speaks after he finds whatever oxygen is left in the room. "To ruin me?"
You're still seated on him, still full of him, and even now, you can feel him twitch inside you. Strong potion.
You exhale with a smirk, feeling your pulse slow. "You're still in one piece, aren't you?"
He laughs—dark, deep, and utterly sinful. It's the kind of laugh that promises you haven't won anything at all. His wrists flex against the bindings, and you swear the leather creaks.
"For now," his tone is almost gentle, but the fire in his eyes betrays him. "But if you think I'm going to let you walk away after this..." he grins. "You're more delusional than I thought."
Oh, Tom. If you only knew.
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darksturnz · 11 days ago
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SNOWED IN
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CONTENTS:・smut-heavy plot ・shypervy!matt ・pillow riding・unprotected p in v ・oral (m! & afab! receiving)・creampie ・fluff :3 + more WC: 5.1k
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The blizzard outside was relentless, the kind that swallowed the streets of Boston in a suffocating white blanket and made the idea of stepping outdoors laughable. The windows of the apartment were fogged over, and every now and then the wind would whistle against the panes like it was testing the limits of the glass. You were curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket that trailed onto the floor, flipping through the channels with little interest.
Behind you, Matt stood in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a mug of coffee in his hands. He had that slightly disheveled look about him, like he’d rolled out of bed without fully shaking off sleep—messy hair, hoodie wrinkled, socks mismatched. You didn’t mind. Matt was always a little like that: casual, a bit quiet, but solid and easy to be around.
“You know, I feel like we should be doing something,” you said, breaking the silence.
“Something like what?” he asked, his voice soft but curious.
“I don’t know. It’s a snow day! Aren’t snow days supposed to be fun?”
He took a sip of his coffee, giving you a small, lopsided smile. “They’re also for staying inside and not freezing to death. I think we’ve got that part down.”
You sighed dramatically, tossing the remote onto the coffee table. “Come on, Matt. Live a little. We’ve been roommates for, what, three years? This is like our… fifth snowstorm together. We’ve gotta mix it up.”
“Mix it up how?”
You sat up, turning to face him with a spark of determination. “We could have a movie marathon. Or play a game. Or—wait, hear me out—we could build a pillow fort.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “A pillow fort? Aren’t we a little old for that?”
“Never.” You grinned at him, sliding off the couch and padding over to where he stood. “Don’t pretend like you don’t want to. You’re just scared you’ll get out-engineered by me.”
Matt scoffed lightly, but his ears turned pink, something you didn’t notice as you rummaged through the hallway closet for extra pillows.
“Okay,” he said finally, setting his mug down and rubbing the back of his neck. “But don’t blame me if this thing collapses.”
“It won’t collapse if you do what I say.” You shot him a playful wink, which only made the flush on his cheeks deepen.
The two of you got to work, pulling cushions off the couch and draping blankets over chairs to form the roof. Matt quietly followed your lead, handing you supplies and occasionally mumbling things like, “That’s not gonna hold,” or “You’re gonna need more support there.”
At one point, you stood on the coffee table to adjust a blanket, and Matt reached out instinctively, his hand hovering near your back like he was afraid you might fall.
“Careful,” he said softly.
“I’m fine, Dad,” you teased, sticking your tongue out at him.
His hand dropped, and he turned away, pretending to busy himself with straightening a pillow, though the faint redness creeping up his neck gave him away.
When the fort was finally done, it was a masterpiece—cozy and lopsided, with string lights you’d fished out of a storage box giving it a warm glow. You crawled inside first, sitting cross-legged on the floor and patting the space next to you.
“Come on, it’s not a real fort until you’re inside and it manages to stay up.”
He hesitated for a second, then ducked under the blanket and sat beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours in the cramped space.
“See? Isn’t this better than nothing?” you said, looking over at him with a smile.
“Yeah,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “It is.”
You handed him a bag of popcorn, your fingers grazing his, and he froze for just a moment before quickly taking it, his eyes fixed firmly on the string lights above.
The two of you spent the evening talking and laughing, the snowstorm forgotten as you swapped stories and debated over which childhood cartoons were the best. Every so often, Matt would glance at you out of the corner of his eye, his heart thudding a little harder when you laughed or smiled at him like he was the only person in the room, which he was but that’s besides the point.
Eventually, though, exhaustion started to creep in. You yawned, stretching your arms overhead.
“I think I’m gonna head to bed,” you said, crawling out of the fort and standing up.
Matt followed you out, watching as you gathered the blanket you’d been using earlier. “Goodnight,” he said, his voice soft.
“Goodnight, Matt,” you replied, giving him a little wave as you disappeared down the hall.
He lingered in the living room for a moment, staring at the now-empty fort before heading towards the bathroom for a shower.
As you settled into bed, wrapping yourself in the familiar weight of your blankets, you heard it: the faint hum of the shower turning on down the hall. The steady rush of water filtered through the quiet apartment, a soothing yet distant sound that seemed to amplify the stillness of your room. You lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, letting the sound wash over you like white noise.
But the second your head hit the pillow, the restlessness crept in.
You sighed softly, rolling onto your side, then your back again, punching the pillow as if fluffing it would trick your body into cooperating. But it was no use. Insomnia—your unwelcome, all-too-familiar companion—was already settling in. This was how it went most nights, the routine so predictable it almost felt like a cruel joke.
The weight of exhaustion was there, heavy in your limbs, but your mind refused to follow. Thoughts you couldn’t quite name flitted just out of reach, intangible but persistent, keeping you from slipping into the oblivion of sleep.
Another sigh escaped your lips, quieter this time, like you were trying not to disturb the silence. You could still hear the water running, muffled now, but constant. Matt was probably rinsing away the day, oblivious to the small storm brewing in your head. You wondered absently how he always seemed so calm, so unbothered by the little things that left you tangled up and wide awake.
You rolled onto your side again, clutching the blankets a little tighter, hoping the rhythmic hum of the shower might somehow lull you to sleep. But it wasn’t working. If anything, it was having the opposite effect. Your mind wandered, unbidden, to the thought of Matt in the shower—steam rising, water trailing down his skin—and suddenly, your cheeks burned with a heat that had nothing to do with the blankets wrapped around you.
It was no secret, at least not to yourself, that Matt was incredibly attractive. Add to that his quiet sweetness, his unshakable respectfulness, and it was a combination that left your head spinning more often than you’d care to admit. It wasn’t just you, either—your mutual friends seemed baffled that the two of you had managed to live together for years without any “accidents” during late nights out. But then again, Matt was Matt. Respectful to a fault, impossibly shy, and so unaware of the effect he had on people—especially you—that it almost made you laugh.
Almost. Because right now, the thought of him was doing anything but making you laugh.
You squeezed your eyes shut, as if that might somehow chase away the thoughts swarming your mind. But it didn’t help. The image of Matt—droplets clinging to his collarbone—lingered stubbornly. You shifted restlessly, the blankets suddenly too warm, your heart beating just a little faster than it should.
This is ridiculous, you told yourself, burying your face into the pillow. He’s your roommate. He probably doesn’t even think about you like that.
And yet, some part of you couldn’t ignore the moments. The tiny, fleeting glances. The way he always seemed a little nervous when he stood too close. The way his ears turned red whenever you teased him, like he wasn’t used to being the center of someone’s attention.
You groaned softly, flipping onto your back and staring at the ceiling as if it held some sort of answer. The truth was, you’d been toeing the line with Matt for so long that even thinking about crossing it felt dangerous. But tonight, with the sound of the shower still running and your mind painting pictures you shouldn’t be entertaining, the line felt thinner than ever.
The water finally shut off, breaking through your thoughts. You held your breath, listening as the faint rustle of movement came from the bathroom—Matt grabbing a towel, maybe shaking out his hair. Your cheeks burned again at how vivid your imagination had become, and you pulled the blanket over your face like it might shield you from your own embarrassment.
Moments later, you heard his footsteps padding softly down the hallway. He paused outside your door, long enough that you wondered if he might knock. But instead, he moved on, his door creaking open before clicking softly shut.
You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, the apartment quiet once more. But now, sleep felt even further away, your heart racing with the knowledge that Matt was just down the hall, freshly showered and unaware of the effect he had on you.
Get a grip, you scolded yourself, rolling over for what felt like the hundredth time. But as you closed your eyes, his face was still there, vivid and unshakable, lingering in the quiet of the night.
Your body betrayed you completely, heat spreading across your skin as the thoughts grew harder to push away. Your heart thudded loudly in your chest, the rhythm almost deafening in the stillness of your room. It wasn’t just your cheeks burning anymore—your entire body felt warmer, the blankets suddenly suffocating as you kicked them off in frustration.
Your breathing quickened, shallow and uneven, as if even the thought of him—his damp hair, the curve of his jaw, the way he’d probably look utterly at ease in the privacy of the bathroom—was too much to process. You pressed your thighs together instinctively, trying to quell the restless energy pooling in your stomach, but it only seemed to make it worse.
Your hands clenched at the sheets, gripping them tightly as you stared up at the ceiling, willing yourself to think about anything else. But it was impossible. Every time you tried to distract yourself, your mind circled back to him, to the sound of the shower and the way you imagined droplets clinging to his skin, how he’d towel his hair dry in that effortless, boyish way of his.
Another frustrated sigh escaped your lips, and you turned onto your stomach, pressing your face into the pillow. Your body refused to settle, every nerve ending feeling far too aware, far too alive. You hated how easily he got to you, how the mere idea of him could make your body react like this, even when you knew it was pointless to dwell on it.
Still, the thoughts lingered, stubborn and insistent, leaving you flushed and restless in the dark. You lay there for a moment longer, the ache between your legs growing stronger with each passing minute. The image of Matt fresh from the shower was seared into your mind. His scent, cedar wood and vanilla, seemed to linger in the air, taunting you with its closeness.
Unable to bear the torment any longer, you quietly slipped out of bed, careful not to make a sound. Your heart raced as you tiptoed towards your closet, retrieving your old pillow - one you'd secretly come to associate with these forbidden fantasies.
Returning to your bed, you positioned the pillow just so, imagining it was Matt beneath you. Slowly, you straddled it, biting your lip to stifle a moan as you began to grind against the soft surface.
Your breath came in ragged gasps as you rode the pillow with increasing fervor, lost in the fantasy of Matt's strong hands gripping your hips, guiding your movements. In your mind's eye, his piercing blue gaze locked with yours, filled with equal parts desire and restraint.
"Fuck," you whispered, the word escaping through clenched teeth as the pressure built within you. The fabric of your thin cotton panties grew damp, adding to the delicious friction against your most sensitive places.
Meanwhile, just outside your bedroom door, Matt stood frozen, his heart pounding in his chest. He had been about to knock on your door, to check if you needed anything before he seriously drifted off to sleep, your insomnia was always something he tried to find little tips and tricks on google to help you with it. But then he heard it - a soft, needy whimper that sent shivers down his spine.
Curiosity getting the better of him, he leaned closer to the door, straining to hear more. And then he heard it again, unmistakable this time: "Matt." Your voice, breathy and laden with desire, calling out his name.
Unable to resist, he slowly turned the knob, cracking open the door just enough to peer inside. The sight that greeted him nearly brought him to his knees. There you were, riding a pillow with wild abandon, your face contorted in pleasure as you chased your release.
Matt's mouth went dry as he watched you, transfixed by the erotic display before him. His cock twitched in his sweatpants, already half-hard from the tantalizing sounds spilling from your lips. He knew he should look away, give you privacy, but he couldn't tear his gaze from the mesmerizing sight of your hips undulating against the pillow.
Unconsciously, one hand drifted to his crotch, palming himself through the thin fabric. A low groan escaped him as he imagined it was his body you were grinding against, his name you were moaning so sweetly. Lost in the fantasy, he began to stroke himself in earnest, his breathing growing heavier with each pass of his hand.
As you continued to ride the pillow, lost in your own world of pleasure, Matt watched with bated breath. His hand moved faster over his now fully erect cock, the wet sounds of your arousal mingling obscenely with his own harsh pants. Sweat beaded on his brow as he struggled to maintain his silence, desperate not to alert you to his presence.
As your climax approached, your movements became more frantic, more urgent. Your fingers dug into the pillow, anchoring yourself as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you. "Matt!" you cried out, his name a prayer on your lips as you shattered completely.
At the same moment, Matt felt his own orgasm building, coiling tighter and tighter in his gut. With a final, strangled groan, he spilled into his hand, his vision going white as intense pleasure consumed him. For a long moment, he remained rooted to the spot, chest heaving as he caught his breath.
Then reality came crashing back in. What the hell had he done? Guilt and shame washed over him as he realized the depths of his betrayal. You trusted him, and here he was, spying on you in such an intimate moment, using you for his own twisted gratification.
As the last tremors of your climax faded, you slowly opened your eyes, feeling deliciously spent and satisfied. It was only then that you noticed the faint crack of light seeping in from the slightly ajar bedroom door, illuminating the shadowy figure standing just beyond the threshold.
Your gaze snapped up, locking with Matt's wide, guilty eyes. His lips were parted, his chest rising and falling rapidly as if he had just run a marathon. And there, plain as day, was the unmistakable wet patch darkening the front of his sweatpants, the outline of his still-prominent erection clearly visible.
For a moment, neither of you moved, both stunned into silence by the weight of the revelation. Then, as if in slow motion, Matt's hands emerged from his waistband, his face twisting with a mixture of shame and residual lust. "I..."
"I'm sorry," Matt managed to choke out, his voice rough with emotion. "I didn't mean to... I shouldn't have..." He trailed off, unable to find the words to express the depth of his regret and self-loathing.
He took a step back, ready to flee, to escape the condemning judgment he expected to see in your eyes. But something stopped him - perhaps it was the way you looked at him, not with anger or disgust, but with a hunger that mirrored his own.
"I saw you," he whispered, his gaze dropping to the pillow still clutched between your thighs. "I heard you saying my name, and I... I couldn't stop myself." His hand drifted back to his crotch, cupping himself almost involuntarily. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?"
Your breath caught in your throat at Matt's raw confession, desire warring with trepidation in your chest. This was dangerous territory, crossing lines that could never be uncrossed. Yet the aching need pulsing between your legs urged you forward, drowning out the voice of reason.
Slowly, deliberately, you sat up, letting the pillow fall away as you met Matt's heated gaze. "Show me," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. "Show me what I do to you."
Matt swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing with the motion. Without breaking eye contact, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his sweatpants, pushing them down just enough to free his straining erection. It sprang forth, thick and hard, the tip glistening with pre-cum.
Your pulse raced as you drank in the sight of Matt's impressive length, your cunt clenching around nothing with renewed desire. Part of you wanted to reach out, to touch, to taste, but you held yourself back, waiting to see how far he would take this forbidden game.
Matt's hand wrapped around his shaft, giving it a slow pump from base to tip. A shudder ran through him at the contact, his head falling back as he let out a low moan. "Fuck, y/n," he panted, his voice strained with need. "The things I want to do to you..."
His hand moved faster, stroking himself with purposeful intent. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with his harsh breaths and bitten-off curses.
Emboldened by Matt's brazen display, you rose from the bed on trembling legs, closing the distance between you with deliberate slowness. His eyes widened as you drew near, his hand faltering in its rhythm as he took in your small frame, your old band t-shirt brushing against your bare thighs and your face flushed and glistening with sweat.
"Touch me," you demanded softly, guiding his free hand under your shirt and to your breast. "I want to feel you."
Matt obliged eagerly, his calloused palm molding to the supple flesh, thumb grazing over the pebbled peak. Electricity zipped through your veins at the contact, stoking the fire burning low in your belly.
Unable to resist any longer, you reached out, wrapping slender fingers around his throbbing cock. Matt groaned gutturally, his hips bucking into your grip as you began to stroke him in tandem with his own movements.
Lost in a haze of lust, Matt surrendered to the exquisite sensations assaulting his senses. Your soft hand on his aching cock, the press of your pert breast against his palm, the intoxicating scent of your arousal filling his nostrils - it was almost too much to bear.
With a growl, he tugged your shirt up and over your head, tossing it aside carelessly. His hungry gaze raked over your naked form, drinking in every dip and curve like a man starved. "So fucking beautiful," he rasped, reverent and awestruck.
Lowering his head, he captured one perky nipple between his lips, suckling greedily as his tongue swirled around the sensitive bud. Your answering moan spurred him on, his free hand sliding down to cup your ass, kneading the firm globe possessively.
Matt's demeanor shifted abruptly, his usual shyness melting away like snow under the summer sun. In its place was a raw, primal dominance that sent shivers racing down your spine.
"On your knees," he commanded, his voice a deep, authoritative rumble. There was no room for argument, no trace of the hesitant boy you knew. This was a man who took what he wanted, and right now, he wanted you.
Obediently, you sank to the floor, your heart pounding in your ears as you gazed up at him through lowered lashes. Matt towered over you, his cock jutting proudly.
"Open your mouth," he growled, fisting a hand in your hair and guiding you closer.
Your lips parted automatically, a thrill of submission coursing through you at Matt's commanding tone. He wasted no time, feeding his thick length past your lips and onto your tongue, groaning at the slick heat enveloping him.
"Fuck, yes," he grunted, setting a punishing pace as he fucked your face with abandon. One hand remained tangled in your hair, holding you steady while the other braced against the wall behind you, his muscles flexing with each powerful thrust.
Saliva dripped down your chin as you struggled to accommodate his girth, your jaw aching with the strain. But the depravity of it all, the sheer wrongness of being used so roughly by your roommate and best friend, only heightened your arousal.
Your muffled moans vibrated around Matt's cock as he continued to use your mouth for his pleasure, his balls slapping against your chin with each brutal snap of his hips. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes from the intensity, but you didn't dare pull away, submitting wholly to his dominance.
"That's it, take it all," Matt snarled, his voice guttural and rough with lust. "Bein’ such a good girl f’me, aren't you?"
His filthy words sent liquid heat straight to your core, your neglected cunt clenching around emptiness for the umpteenth time tonight. You needed more, craved the feel of him stretching you open, claiming you in the most primal way possible.
As if sensing your desperation, Matt suddenly withdrew, leaving you gasping and bereft.
"Need you so fuckin' bad, been waitin' years for this shit, kid," Matt rasped, his voice dripping with pent-up hunger. Before you could even process his words, he had you lifted off your feet, strong hands gripping your thighs as he tossed you onto the bed like a ragdoll.
You bounced slightly on the mattress, the springs creaking under your combined weight. Matt was on you in an instant, pinning you beneath his larger frame as he forced your legs apart, exposing your dripping sex to his ravenous gaze.
"Christ," he panted, his eyes dark with lust. "fuckin’ dripping baby, look at that, already making such a mess on your bed and i’ve yet to touch you."
Matt wasted no time burying his face between your thighs, his tongue delving deep into your soaked folds without preamble. “Matt! oh-“ You cried out sharply at the sudden intrusion, your back arching off the bed as he lapped at your essence like a man possessed.
"Mmmph, so sweet," he mumbled against your flesh, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating outward. His nose nudged your swollen clit, inhaling deeply as if savoring your unique musk. "Could eat this pretty pussy all day long."
Two thick fingers plunged knuckle-deep into your fluttering hole, pumping in and out at a relentless pace. They curled just so, rubbing mercilessly against that sweet spot inside you, coaxing you towards the edge with ruthless efficiency.
"Oh god, Matt!" you keened, your voice high and breathy with need. Your fingers scrabbled desperately at the sheets beneath you, seeking stability as the intense pleasure threatened to consume you whole. "Don't stop, please don't stop!"
Your hips bucked wildly, grinding shamelessly against his talented mouth as he worked you over with single-minded focus. The obscene wet sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of your sopping cunt filled the room, mingling with your wanton moans and his guttural groans of satisfaction.
It was filthy, debauched, everything you'd ever fantasized about late at night when you were alone with nothing but your imagination and your trusty vibrator for company.
Matt's tongue swirled around your throbbing clit, flicking rapidly over the sensitive bundle of nerves until you saw stars. His fingers never ceased their relentless assault, curling and twisting inside you, stroking along your inner walls with practiced precision.
"M’gonna...gonna come!" you sobbed, teetering on the razor's edge of ecstasy. Every muscle in your body pulled taut, quivering with the force of your impending release. "oh my god"
With a triumphant growl, he sealed his lips around your clit and sucked hard, his fingers pistoning furiously. That was all it took to send you hurtling over the precipice, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave of pure bliss.
As the aftershocks of your climax rippled through you, Matt shifted his position, moving to hover over your trembling form. You could feel the blunt head of his cock nudging insistently at your entrance, smearing the copious juices seeping from your tight hole.
A small puddle of your combined fluids had formed beneath you, staining the sheets with irrefutable evidence of your mutual desire. The musky scent of sex hung heavy in the air.
Matt groaned low in his throat as he rubbed the swollen tip of his cock through your slick folds, coating himself liberally in your essence. The drag of his thick shaft against your sensitive flesh drew another desperate whimper from your lips, your hips canting upwards in silent invitation.
"You're so fuckin' wet for me," he rasped, his voice rough with barely restrained lust. "Bet this tight little cunt is just dyin' to be stretched wide on my cock, isn't she?"
"Yes, please," you breathed, your voice hoarse from screaming his name mere moments ago. " need you inside me, been wanting this for so long..."
Your hands roamed restlessly over his broad shoulders and back, mapping the planes of his muscular body. You could feel the tension thrumming through him, the barely leashed control he was exerting over himself.
"Please, Matt," you whimpered again, wrapping your legs around his waist and locking your ankles at the small of his back. "Don't make me beg."
“As much as I’d love to hear that shit,” he huffs out and with a guttural moan, Matt surged forward, bottoming out in one powerful thrust. Your velvety walls clenched greedily around him, drawing him deeper into your welcoming heat.
"Fuck, you feel incredible," he panted, his forehead coming to rest against yours as he fought to maintain some semblance of restraint. "So tight, so perfect. Like you were made just for me."
He began to move then, withdrawing almost completely before plunging back in with bruising force. Each snap of his hips drove you further up the bed, the headboard banging rhythmically against the wall in a lewd counterpoint to the obscene squelch of his cock plundering your sopping wet cunt.
The pressure built steadily within you, coiling tighter and tighter with each punishing thrust. Your nails raked down his back, leaving angry red welts in their wake as you clung to him desperately, urging him deeper still.
"Harder-please," you demanded breathlessly, tilting your hips to meet his increasingly erratic strokes. "wanna feel you for days."
Your plea seemed to shatter the last vestiges of his control. With a feral snarl, Matt flipped you over onto your stomach, hauling your ass up into the air. He kicked your legs apart with his knee, opening you up completely to his hungry gaze.
"Gonna ruin this sweet little cunt," he promised darkly, delivering a sharp smack to your upturned rear. "Fill you up 'til you're leakin' with my cum."
"Yes, yes, fuck!" you chanted deliriously, pushing back against him with wild abandon. Each brutal thrust sent sparks of pleasure-pain racing up your spine, stoking the inferno building in your core.
The wet slap of skin on skin echoed obscenely throughout the room, punctuated by your loud cries and his grunts. Sweat dripped down his brow, plastering stray locks of hair to his forehead as he rutted into you like a madman.
"M’close," he bit out through clenched teeth, his movements growing increasingly erratic. "Come with me, baby. Wanna feel this tight pussy milking me dry."
With a strangled cry, you came undone, your release crashing over you like a tsunami. Your walls clamped down vice-like around his pistoning length, rippling along every inch as you rode out the waves of ecstasy.
The sensation proved too much for Matt. With a guttural roar, he buried himself to the hilt, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself deep inside your cunt. Thick ropes of cum painted your insides, marking you irrevocably as his.
For a long moment, neither of you moved, simply basking in the afterglow as you struggled to catch your breath. Finally, Matt rolled to the side, gathering you close and tucking your head beneath his chin.
"That was...fuck," he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to your sweat-damp temple. "Best damn snow day of my life."
The two of you lay tangled together, limbs intertwined as you slowly drifted back to reality. The world outside continued to rage, wind howling and snow piling up, but here in the cocoon of Matt's arms, all was warm and peaceful.
As your breathing evened out, you felt a strange sense of contentment wash over you. This was more than just a casual hookup born of opportunity and circumstance - there was a connection here, something real and profound.
Matt seemed to sense it too. He nuzzled into your hair, inhaling deeply as if trying to memorize your scent. "Let me stay tonight," he whispered, his voice soft and vulnerable but this time in a way you'd never heard before. "wanna hold you 'til morning."
A sleepy smile curved your lips as you nodded against his chest. "Stay," you mumbled, already feeling yourself slipping towards slumber. "Wanna wake up with you."
Matt pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, his strong arms tightening around you possessively. "Sleep, sweetheart. I got you."
As consciousness faded away, you couldn't remember the last time you'd felt so safe, so cherished. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new uncertainties - but for now, wrapped up in the warmth of Matt's embrace, everything was exactly as it should be.
And you could finally sleep.
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AUTHORS NOTE: i’ve said it before but thank you guys again so so much for 200+ followers :,) i hope you enjoyed.
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kurooh · 25 days ago
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❆ BABY, IT’S COLD OUTSIDE !
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KINKMAS 2024 — holiday hatefucking + sukuna ryōmen
❆ desc. a record breaking blizzard blasts through your city, causing thousands of power outages & frozen pipes. what’re you & your sworn enemy of a roommate to do when it seems to last all night?
❆ warnings. 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, hatefucking, some degradation, pussy slaps, orgasm control, arguing, resolving misunderstandings, facesitting, one bed trope. | 6.0k words
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“just like everything else, this is all your fault!”
“really, princess? last i checked, i can’t control fucking climate change.”
sukuna’s always been testing your patience, pushing you closer and closer to the edge with daily arguments and snarky comments. you let out a peeved sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose in exasperation. “of course you’d refer to weather as climate change. if i were you, i’d at least mask my stupidity better.”
“tch,” he manages, wordlessly rolling his eyes as he lamely tries to think of a comeback. anger boils in his stomach and burns through his veins, hot as magma. “you’re calling me stupid when you’re the one who fell into the toilet a few days ago, at three in the morning.”
“yes, and that happened because my inconsiderate asshole of a roommate didn’t put the lid down!”
“you deserved it,” sukuna scoffs, dismissing you with a wave of his hand as he turns on his heel. “go take your toilet ass to bed. g’night.”
you’re fuming with anger, but there’s no point in saying anything now that he’s walking away with no intention to listen to you. sukuna’s footsteps disappear into the darkness of his room, and he slams the door behind him.
how insufferable.
living with sukuna ryōmen meant you could never catch a break. between his occasional apartment-trashing parties and stormy demeanor, there was zero chance to turn things around. the feuds had started not long after you first met, and surprisingly, the two of you had actually hit it off pretty well.
your first meeting took place on a street corner downtown, right in the middle of the college district. after a horrible date, you had found yourself waiting on the corner for your delayed uber when sukuna pulled up on his motorcycle, extending his hand. at the time, you didn’t question his kindness, wrapping your arms around him and talking his ear off about being a student. he dropped you off at your apartment and offered to help you sign a new lease, after you had confessed how hard it was living in a dorm with so many fees.
initially, living with sukuna went well. the sexual tension was at an all-time high, but the two of you were always too busy (or afraid?) to make a move on it, so you remained friends. it was when his friends came over for a party during an important study night for you that things changed for the worse. they had been lounging on the couch, drunk and talking way too loudly about you.
remembering the things they said about you still makes you grind your teeth as you stomp down the hallway, pausing at the darkened screen of the thermostat.
“sukuna!” you yell, reading the numbers. “the temperature’s dropping further!”
“. . it’s a power outage,” he calls back after a moment, his voice muffled by the door. “what do you expect?”
it’s pointless but it makes you feel better, so you raise your middle finger to his door before walking off to your room. your door swings open, and you slide off your slippers, preparing to get into bed and wait it out, but you’re met with the not so soft material of the bare mattress.
oh, that’s right.
not long ago, the tv had been glowing with endless reports of the incoming blizzard. it was supposed to hit the city full force in a few hours. expecting a power outage, you’d thrown all of your sheets and blankets into the wash so you’d sleep well during the night in a warm, clean bed. it was as if the blizzard had a personal score to settle—it barreled through the city and prepared to stay, leaving hundreds of people without power or functioning pipes due to the freeze.
now that your apartment has no electricity at all, your sheets and blankets are left soaking in the washing machine downstairs. instead of breaking down and screaming out of frustration, you manage to pull it together with a few deep breaths before marching over to sukuna’s room. it’s entirely sickening that you even have to ask him for something like this, but you put the thought out of your mind and raise your closed fist to the door.
sukuna’s ears twitch when he hears the thumping at his door, and he gets out of his bed to go investigate. he rubs the tiredness away from his eyes and opens the door to see you standing in front of him.
“what now? did you come to tell me it’s snowing outside?”
“no, i didn’t,” you grit out, wringing your hands together, “remember i put my all my bedding in to be washed?”
“remember when i told you not to?”
“yes, thank you!” you reply brightly, “they’re currently soaking in the washing machine and i have nowhere to sleep without getting a bad case of hypothermia.”
“hm. you could always try the couch and some paper towels from the kitchen,” he suggests dryly, pulling the door shut. stubbornly, you push your foot in the way to stop him. “woman,” he clicks his tongue disapprovingly, “if you think i won’t slam this door on your foot, you are sorely mistaken.”
it’s a risk you���ll have to take; you don’t budge an inch, looking up at him furiously. “just for tonight, i’m asking you to let me sleep in your bed.”
“i thought you hated me,” he hisses, “i could feel your little middle finger through the door.”
“i do, but if you had this problem, i’d actually help you, because i’m a good person!”
“keep telling yourself that,” sukuna rolls his eyes dramatically, letting his jaw go slack to mock your stupidity, “i would never have this kind of problem, because i’m not as dumb as you are.”
the wooden edge of the door starts to press into your slipper and a rush of panic strikes you square in the chest. your jaw tightens as hesitate, frustrated with the idea you have to convince him with. finally, your lips part, and the words tumble out sloppily, piling up into a debt you’ll be obligated to pay. “fine, fine . . . sometime i can make it up to you. i’ll even clean up the apartment after a party without any lip.”
sukuna crosses his arms, and the veins ripple beneath the skin with the movement. “oh, i hadn’t thought of that. i would love to see you clean the place without complaining as you usually do. although . . you did say anything.”
“yes, that’s right.”
where is he going with this?
his crimson eyes gleam with some kind of wolfish delight as he mulls over everything he could possibly impose on you. “perhaps i’ll save it and torment you while i think of something.”
“so, can i share the bed?” you urge, slipper tapping on the carpet impatiently.
sukuna offers a hand, and you can feel his black nails dig into your skin when you accept it. he moves out of the doorway at last, sticking out his foot and successfully making you stumble. you nearly faceplant into the carpet but manage to save yourself, biting your tongue even though all you want to do is shout at him.
sukuna simply gets into bed and tugs the blankets over his body, but he looks over at you in confusion when he notices you stacking a wall of pillows between your bodies.
“god, i am not that vile. i showered earlier and i washed my sheets yesterday,” he grouses, eyebrows pulling downwards in annoyance.
“i’m sure you did,” you assuage him dismissively, “i just wanna make sure we don’t touch once in the time that we sleep in this bed.”
sukuna fiddles with his silver lip piercings, tongue prodding into the backings impatiently while his fingers twist at the small spikes. “damn. are you done yet? goodnight.”
“goodnight.” you mutter, dropping down hard against the bed with your back facing his.
sukuna is what every daredevil wishes they could be. he is unique, with different piercings and dark, sharply lined tattoos that compliment his features naturally. all of his piercings had been acquired from bets or dares—he’d gotten his eyebrow done after his brother yuji beat him in a fight (he let him win because he wanted the piercing), his snake bites because he’d been dared (he did it himself with a hot needle and bent paperclips to keep the holes open since it was 1 am and all the jewelry stores were closed), and his ears when he won an eating contest (it was on yuji’s dime, so he got the most expensive jewelry too).
as you drift off, feeling warmer beneath all the blankets, you feel the tension leaving your body. for tonight, you’ll let go of your anger towards him and enjoy the pleasant moment and his rare generosity.
your eyes blearily open to the soft rays of morning sunlight shining through the gaps between the curtains, illuminating the dust in their thin columns over the bed. you let out a yawn, snuggling further into the soft pillows you’d set up the night before—but then your heart jumps into your throat and heat sears its away across your face when you register the warm body nestled against yours.
the position is so natural that it’s as if you slept like this for hours; it’s abhorrent, seeing sukuna sleeping like a baby, his breaths nothing more than quiet huffs into your neck. as the vestiges of sleep start to fade away, you’re all too aware of the sculpted muscle pressing firmly against your body. at some point, sukuna decided to take off his shirt, as evidenced by his bare chest against you.
outside, the sky looks to be a little cloudy, and the branches of bare trees are weighed down with layers of snow. looks like the blizzard came to a stop sometime in the middle of the night.
sukuna’s hand squeezes your side lightly, and he lets out a soft groan, tugging you closer. “ew, what the hell!?” you jerk back immediately, heart pounding wildly in your chest like a caged bird. an uncomfortable heat settles over you as the reality of the situation fully sinks in. he’s still asleep, fumbling around to grip onto you. your breath catches in your throat with each of his confused movements, and the warmth of his strong body leaves you dazed for a moment before you consider how wrong this feels. he firmly grabs ahold of your ass to pull you in, and you gasp, slapping his arm as hard as you can.
“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”
he grunts out a curse, letting go of you and blinking awake slowly. his once relaxed face quickly shifts into one of annoyance, and he fixes you with a displeased glare.
“what’s your problem now, woman?”
“you were cuddling me, man.”
sukuna rolls his eyes so hard you wonder if they’ll ever return to their original place.
“to wake me up over something that trivial is ridiculous. it was a cold night and likely happened by accident.”
“no, sukuna!” you protest, hips swiveling as you push yourself into a sitting position. he hisses, jaw clenching firmly; the words die in your throat when you realize the problem—rather, his problem.
“wipe that fucking look off your face,” he snaps automatically. “ever heard of morning wood?”
“excuse me? you were all over—”
immediately, sukuna claps a hand over your mouth, his palm feeling hot against the lower half of your face. your words are muffled, but he knows you’re swearing and protesting at him—the way your eyebrows angrily move tells him enough.
eventually, you go still, opting to lick his skin. he recoils in disgust, wiping his sticky palm on your shirt to get it off. “you’re nasty, woman.”
“that’s not what you were thinking when you were wrapped around me like a koala five minutes ago.”
he doesn’t even know what to say. anger and something more bubbles up fast, scorching through his body before it finally exits through his mouth. “shut the fuck up. you started it last night, pulling me in and shit.”
“me?” you burst out incredulously, eyebrows furrowing as you lean forward, your stare burning holes the size of bullets into his face. “you’re the one who’s embarrassed for having enjoyed it, if your face is any indicator. you know how much i hate you, i’d never—”
you’re too close. beneath the blankets and sheets, your lower body thrashes while you speak, hips knocking into his a few times. each touch has his cock growing harder, throbbing painfully beneath his boxers and pajama pants.
“god, if you’d just stop touching me!” he barks, cheeks ultra hot now. sukuna’s lips pull into a scowl and he glares at you, annoyed with your sudden cluelessness.
“what is your problem now?!”
“it’s you,” he shouts, throwing off the blanket and startling you. “it’s always been you. since we moved in, since the blizzard, since i even agreed to sharing a bed with you! you’re always—” sukuna’s voice splinters and he swallows, pushing forward, leaving mere inches between your faces. “fuck. you’re always driving me insane.”
“back off,” you hiss, voice trembling. a crackling tension hangs in the air between you, heavy with unspoken words and growing anticipation.
“make me.”
“you’re really asking for it, aren’t you, sukuna?”
his lips curl into a wolfish smile and his eyes gleam with a similar intensity, anger blending with something more carnal. “maybe you can show me how much you love to hate me, princess.”
the demeaning nickname falls from his lips easily, as it always does, and you’re determined to make him choke on it.
“don’t you ever shut up?” your nose crinkles at the puffs of breath that brush over your lips. one of sukuna’s eyebrows quirks upward challengingly—your voice no longer has the bite it usually does.
“i only would if you let me use my mouth another way.”
your heart hammers in your chest, and anger still rushes through every inch of your body, but it’s much hotter now, leaving your skin sweltering beneath your clothes. giving in to sukuna ryōmen is a mistake—he’s your insufferable roommate who regularly makes your fists clench with anger, but he’s also the object of your deepest desires.
you’re too far in to back away now.
“go ahead,” you pause to let out a breath. “right now, i’m all yours.”
when you finally lean in to close the distance, your lips collide in a kiss that’s equal parts animosity and desire. it isn’t gentle, and it isn’t soft—it’s raw and furious, so overwhelming he loses himself and pulls you in, black nails digging crescents into your skin. in a manner that’s just as forceful, your hand finds its way to the nape of his neck and yanks him in, causing your teeth to click together sharply. the hungry kiss deepens, and his tongue slips into your mouth, stroking against your own. the deep-seated anger and tension that had been piling on top of each other is finally dissolving into something far worse—something so intoxicating you begin to wonder how you were living without it.
sukuna pulls back breathlessly, unable to look anywhere but your face. a small, glossy string of saliva connects your lips together, a sign of an encouragement to test the waters and continue. surely a heated makeout session would lead you to a crossroads, where you’d be left wondering how much further this could go, with only each other to figure it out.
sukuna coughs out a rueful laugh. “it’s funny, isn’t it?"
“what is it?” you demand, lips tingly from the kiss.
“i find it amusing this took so long to happen. of course, it was bound to eventually.”
“well, it’s only because you can’t keep it in your pants, sukuna.”
“and you can’t keep yours on,” he retorts, hooking his fingers into the flimsy waistband of your pajama pants before sliding them off your legs. now, only a thin layer of fabric hides the place he wants to see most. effectively silenced and now matching his black underwear, you take him in, eyes sweeping over his features. beneath his black tattoos, his skin flushes red, all the way up to the tips of his ears; his mouth is slick and shiny with a mixture of your spit and his own, and the silver spikes beneath his lip gleam temptingly.
“what’s wrong?” he questions expectantly, fingers curling around your chin with surprising force and tugging you forward. “cat got your tongue?”
“maybe i’m just waiting for the right moment to pounce,” you push forward stubbornly, forcing him onto his back so you can straddle him. you silence anything he would’ve said with another kiss, and sukuna’s hands travel from your hips to your ass. he gifts it with a squeeze and a pleasured groan slips out against your lips before he slides his fingers into your underwear.
the rough pads of his fingertips stroke over the skin of your ass while you suck on his tongue impatiently, hips occasionally rolling against his own. to add to each movement of your hips, you tease him a little more, using your teeth to lightly tug at the jewelry of his lip piercings. each moment of friction is something between solace and torture for his cock—it’s adequate, but it’s not enough and he’s dying for more.
you smile against his lips, sneaking a hand between your bodies to play with his cock. it’s an experimental gesture to test the waters, see how he reacts; the moment your fingers come into contact with his thick bulge, he groans, leaning up. one squeeze has him rushing to sit up so quickly his forehead knocks into yours. ordinarily, sukuna would’ve made a scathing comment, but he doesn’t have much to say when he grabs ahold of your wrist and pushes it into his boxers.
it’s a decision that further stokes the long burning fire that’s been ablaze beneath all the arguments and unbearable conversations; it’s something that has it roaring into an all consuming inferno.
“fuck,” sukuna chokes out, nipples hard against your loose shirt while he rests his hands on your ass. “you’re making me fucking crazy.”
you ignore him, rolling your eyes dismissively at his heavy panting and clenching abs. instead, you focus on lavishing his neck with attention in the form of wet kisses along the skin. he shudders a little as your tongue darts out to wet his skin before he eventually decides he’s had enough and cages you in his arms. you’re startled when you’re caught in something akin to an alligator death roll, opening your eyes to see that you’re pinned down beneath him.
“then do something about it,” you suggest, legs spreading without him having to ask.
sukuna groans deeply, his head spinning at the sight of you being this vulnerable in front of him. “take off that shirt now.”
the demand strikes you hard, his voice reverberating to your core. while you busy yourself with doing as he asked, sukuna kicks the pillows and blankets off the bed before positioning himself on his stomach. now, he’s eye level with your thinly covered pussy. he hasn’t seen it yet, but it’s sure to be everything he’s dreamed of. saliva pools on his tongue while impatience propels him forward, and he skates his fingers along your thighs, taking in the softness of your skin.
it’s not enough to simply touch you.
no, sukuna needs to smell you, taste you, feel you, devour you.
he intends to do so.
“what’re you—?” your voice trembles as you look downwards, nipples hardening at the sensual sight. sukuna’s nose is pressed to your thigh, and he’s breathing in with every inch upwards. you had expected something faster, more filthy, but sukuna’s behaving like he’s absolutely been dying for this.
the dull spikes of his lip piercings press into your plush skin and over a small area of your panties when he finally makes it to your hip. wordlessly, he slips his hands under your ass and raises you up while he takes a bit of your panties between his teeth. slowly, they slide down your legs.
a sweltering heat surges up your neck and to your face while another pools in your tummy like magma beneath a volcano. you writhe on the bed eagerly, too excited to have your panties finally out of the way. those fervent crimson eyes stare at your pussy and watch it flutter around nothing before flickering up to yours.
“don’t blame me if you can’t walk later.”
your face drops in annoyance. “why do you always have to ruin good moments?”
“a warning is hardly enough to ruin this.”
“but—”
a harsh, smarting slap to your pussy has you cutting yourself off with a pitched cry of delight that bounces off the walls and into sukuna’s long term memory. he raises an eyebrow, watching you closely as your legs settle and you return to your spread position.
“you liked it, didn’t you?”
“liked? it hurt.”
“i wouldn’t put it past you,” he says, eyeing your dripping, clenching cunt. “i’ll just do it again.”
you roll your eyes, bucking toward him impatiently. you want him inside you, and he’s hung up on moving slow to torture you.
“whatever. just fuck me alr—”
“ah ah,” he admonishes you with a slap that’s much rougher and directed to your clit. against the mattress, his cock swells with arousal. “i intend to fuck you my way. if you have a problem with that, i’d love to see you fight to be on top.”
tears gather in your eyes, threatening to spill over and cascade down your cheeks. desperation and unbridled need easily shifts to frustration and anger that has you spitting, “i hate you.”
“don’t be like that. you’re soaking wet,” he points out with a self assured smirk. sukuna spreads your thighs impossibly wider and leans in, letting the tip of his nose graze your clit. the featherlight touch makes your skin prickle all over.
to be honest, you didn’t expect the events of last night to lead you here in the morning. in fact, you assumed you’d wake up on your respective sides of the bed and argue a little about snoring before departing. since most of your interactions usually go that route, this entire situation is shocking—but a small part of you is extremely thankful it’s finally happening.
there had been days so tense you’d considered sex as a solution, but never brought it up.
“s-sukuna!” you moan helplessly, grabbing at the sheets and twisting them beneath your fingers. with his teeth, he playfully nibbles at your folds, savoring the sudden catch of breath in your throat and whimpery cries. your quivering legs settle over his shoulders, and he appreciates the change, utilizing the new angle to pull you closer.
that sharp tongue of his can certainly do more than hurl creative insults all day long—it’s killer, and entirely hypnotic as he sloppily mouths at your cunt. wet slurps and lewd smacks of his lips have you shuddering, eyes rolling back into your skull.
“‘kuna,” you whine, long and drawn out, “don’t stop, d-don’t fuckin’ stop.”
he pushes his thumb into your clit and looks up, lips shiny with your bittersweet slick. “what did you just call me?”
“sukuna,” you lie nervously, trembling beneath his touch and craving more.
“now, girl,” he scoffs, and the new nickname doesn’t sound as demeaning as the usuals. “that isn’t what you said. go ahead and say it again for me.”
you look him in the eyes, feeling small beneath his heavy gaze. “‘kuna. that’s what i said.”
sukuna offers a gratified hum before returning to your sloppy pussy. a glob of spit sparkles in the morning light as it slips down your hole, making more of a mess. “keep calling me that, i like it.”
white hot euphoria zips through sukuna’s nerves as he dines on the wet dessert your pussy is. it’s the best breakfast he could’ve ever had—sweet as sugar and made even better with your decadent moans spurring him on. oh, the way you shakily card your hands through his hair and let your nails scratch over his scalp . . each electrifying touch shoots straight to his cock, and he discreetly ruts into the matress.
his tongue dips between your folds and he groans against you, eyes rolling back when you squeeze down on him like a vice. the once cold room is hot, your bodies feeling feverish from your own shared heat—if you were outside, you’d have melted the snow into puddles.
sukuna has always had an abnormally long tongue. he ponders your reaction to him pushing deeper, but the fluttering of your walls leaves no room for second thoughts.
“sukuna, holy fuck,” you sob, a tear or two running down the bridge of your nose. “y-your tongue, it’s so big—w-wait, wait a second.”
it’s painful to lose the fullness of his tongue, but you pull back and cup his face in your hands, looking down at him with a desperate look he won’t be able to refuse. “can . . can i ride your face, ‘kuna?”
you’re so cute with that little pout and those glossy eyes begging for more. sukuna smiles meanly, the lower half of his face dripping with your essence while his teeth gleam sharply.
“you liked my tongue that much, huh?” you nod, looking a little dazed as he gets onto his back. he helps you swing a leg over him, but before you sit down, his hand lands hard against your ass. “shit, you’re such a dirty girl. jus’ begging for me to get you off, aren’t cha? show me how much you fucking want it.”
you whimper, gasping out some kind of affirmative answer. sukuna tenses his tongue and sticks it upwards, then tugs you down impatiently.
“shit!” you squeal, startled by how fucking long his tongue is. it fills you up almost entirely, probably an inch and a half short of your cervix. whiny ooh’s and ah’s fall from your lips as you unsteadily rut your hips into his face, grinding your clit hard into his nose. “sukuna, ‘m close, you’re gonna make me cum . . ”
“you’re gonna make yourself cum, girl. ‘s all you.”
his voice is muffled, but you can somewhat hear him over the lewd squelches and noisy moans that fill the room. despite it all, he’s got stars in his eyes as he watches you ride his tongue to oblivion—stringy drool slips past your lips and your tits bounce deliciously while your face crumbles in euphoria.
“oh my god,” you weep, voice breaking, “‘m gonna cum on your fuckin’ tongue—”
one blissful tremor is the precursor to so many more. your jaw becomes slack and tears run down your face as you finally reach your high.
“‘kuna, ‘m cumming!”
the stifling tightness in your tummy finally snaps and leaves you a convulsing mess on his tongue, shaking so hard your teeth inevitably begin to chatter. sukuna smacks his lips, almost entirely satisfied—but then he roughly lifts you and sits you down on his chest.
you’ve got hearts in your eyes and you’re obviously drunk on him, ready for more.
“clean it up,” he demands, tilting his head to the side. without question, you lean forward and kiss him, tasting yourself with a moan. a groan rumbles deep in his chest when you pull back and start to sloppily lick at his cheek, tongue running over his tattoos. “good girl.”
“sukuna, i need—i want . . ” you flounder breathlessly, unsure of how to ask him.
he slaps your ass, scarlet eyes darkening lustfully. sukuna clicks his tongue, egging you on. “beg for it.”
“beg?” you ask incredulously, grinding your cunt into his abs. “i hate begging.”
“then you don’t get what you want, simple as that.”
“but—”
“no buts, girl.”
“f-fine,” you cede, afraid of being left unsatisfied, “please, i need your cock inside me . . i need you to fuck me hard.”
“there she is,” sukuna coos, flipping you over and reversing your positions so he’s above you, “my nasty slut. you’re all mine, aren’t you?”
you nod weakly, which has him flipping you onto your stomach and huskily growling into your ear. “fucking say it, princess.”
“all yours,” you slur your words, limply letting him maneuver your body.
“on your knees,” he pauses to gather your wrists together behind your back, pulling you toward him. “that’s right.”
with his free hand, sukuna tugs his boxers down so quickly the fabric audibly tears, and he tosses them over his shoulder.
the room is a disaster. blankets and sheets hang off the foot of his bed while pillows litter the carpeted floor in every direction. not to mention the discarded pajamas and underwear scattered around as well, evidence of the storm between yourself and your roommate.
your cunt is throbbing by the time he guides the tip of his spit slicked cock between your folds. it’s bulbous and fucking huge as it presses into you, slow and deep. sukuna tosses his head back with a loud groan when his cock bottoms out, pulsing against your cervix.
“loosen up, girl,” he grunts, your sticky walls bearing down hard around his cock, “can’t fucking move.”
“w-wait,” you whimper, nearly falling forward. your jaw hangs open loosely as you try to fathom the stretch and fullness his cock imposes. “‘kuna, you’re too big, i can’t—”
“please, this sloppy pussy was made for me,” he huffs, drawing his hips back and leaving merely the tip of his cock inside of you. “jus’ take it. you can and you will.”
he says nothing else before shoving forward, plunging his cock as deep as it can go inside you. it thickly pushes past rings of muscle and stretches you open, filling your ears with wet squelches. he sets a ruthless rhythm into place, focusing on taking your ability to walk tomorrow. tears pathetically pour down your cheeks and fall from your jaw to the damp sheets below, and you no longer can control all the noise you’re making. babbled cries of yes! and inaudible moans fall from your bitten lips, all of it spurring sukuna on.
“hah, shit,” he rasps, unable to tear his eyes away from where you’re connected—his cock slides in and out of your creamy pussy rapidly, the smacks of skin against skin sounding like an applause. “b-been waiting for this, goddamn.”
“i thought you hated me,” you wail desperately, feeling each thrust of his cock in your lungs. whenever the tip roughly kisses your cervix, your cunt squeezes around him while you cry out something incomprehensible.
sukuna pushes his tongue into his cheek, digging his black nails into your wrists tightly. “you were the one who hated me the whole time.”
“i-i didn’t!” you protest weakly, struggling to recall what you were just about to say. “it was you who started it—with your friends!”
“what’d we do?” he groans, pushing his free hand through his hair to remove the strands sticking to his sweaty forehead.
“uh, you—right there!—you were . . ”
“did i already fuck you dumb, girl?” sukuna snarks, his palm coming down hard across your ass. “can’t even remember, hm? perhaps if you weren’t so busy slutting yourself out for me you’d have something to fuckin’ say.”
his words are bitter, but they manage to help you recall your memory. “you were talking shit about me, a-and you threw that party the night before a big test i had—shit, ‘m gonna cum!”
“ah ah,” he snaps, voice edged with something domineering and dangerous. you’re pulled back by your numb wrists, and sukuna leans forward to speak directly into your ear: “you don’t get to cum until i fuckin’ tell you to. now, girl—finish that story for me.”
a miserable sob tears past your lips, “sukuna, i-i can’t, ‘m gonna cum right now—”
your wrists are released, making you fall forward into the mattress. your head can’t stop spinning and you’re in no state to catch yourself, so instead you accept the new position mutely.
the palm of sukuna’s hand presses into the crown of your head and his nails dig into your scalp while his warm breath fans against the shell of your ear. “don’t you fucking dare,” he hisses arbitrarily. “i said to finish the story.”
“i-i heard them saying horrible things about me!” you babble gaspingly, “i think you went along with it . . i didn’t hear you telling them to stop.”
“so that’s why you hated me?”
“yes! god, but i didn’t really—i wanted to talk about it s-sometime, but not right now!”
he chuckles ruefully, letting your head go. “now, girl. if i’d known something so stupid was the reason you’ve supposedly hated me, i would’ve taken care of it much sooner.”
you cry into the sheets, feeling the telltale throb of his thick cock deep inside you. “please—please lemme cum!” the words slur together, making you sound truly cock drunk.
“alright, princess,” sukuna hisses, teeth sinking into his lower lip, “go ‘head and let it allll out. cum all over this fucking cock, lemme feel it.”
stars flicker across your vision, and you cum with a broken cry that tears from your throat almost painfully. your gummy walls grip him like a vice, sucking the cum out of his cock. with a drawn out groan, he finally cums, collapsing on top of you and panting into your shoulder.
as you come down together, high pitched beeps fill the house. the microwave and oven come back to life, and the lights in every room snap on as the power is restored at last.
“goddamn,” he huffs, pulling you into a sideways spooning position without letting his cock slip out of you.
“tired?” you ask hoarsely, tired eyes running over his sweaty, flushed face. “clearly, that took a lot out of you.”
“me?” sukuna barks in offense. “look at you, you’re the one covered in tears.”
you pull out of his arms, whimpering breathily as his cock slides out of your pulsing cunt. the base of it is covered in creamy rings while the rest of his length shines wetly. sukuna spreads your trembling thighs and groans loudly at the sight—frothy globs of cum spill from your weeping hole, which clenches around nothing hungrily.
truthfully, sukuna would never be able to rid himself of the memory of your cunt swallowing his cock eagerly. the slip and slide paired with the immense heat had nearly made him cum on the spot . .
sukuna’s chest heaves with each breath as he lolls his head to the side to observe you. “for the record, i’m no longer friends with those vile people. cut it off right after they came into my home and started talking shit about you.”
embarrassment crashes over you like a wave. “wait, you never told me about that!”
“you stopped talking to me and decided to be argumentative all the goddamn time.”
you roll your eyes, looking off the bed awkwardly. a few pillows are scattered on your side, and you reach over to pick them up, tossing them to the foot of the bed.
“anyway, how did my pillow wall get destroyed?”
“don’t get upset.”
“what did you do?” you question him accusingly, narrowing your eyes at him.
“after you fell asleep, i moved two of them.”
“i used six different pillows!”
he dismisses you with a wave of his hand, smirking at the frustrated shock that takes over your features. “i thought it’d help me figure out what your problem was in the morning. obviously, it did.”
you snatch a pillow and hit him right in the face with it, savoring the moment of justice like high quality chocolate. “there. that’s what you get.”
sukuna rips the pillow from your hands and hurls it across the room, turning over to you with a wicked smile playing on his lips.
“you were saying?”
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my-my-my · 1 day ago
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Merry Christmas to those who celebrate and happy holidays everyone! This is just a fun idea I had rolling around in my head these past few days! I didn’t want to do all the squads, and the timeline is purposely fuzzy (who cares about character deaths? Not me!!!). So this is just a mishmash of characters I pictured having fun with this.
TW: MDNI! Technically it’s abuse of power with any of the captains, but it’s all consensual, (reader is either a lieutenant, low-ranking, or human), oral sex, dirty talk, inappropriate use of decorations, food play.
Characters: Gin Ichimaru, Retsu Unohana, Sousuke Aizen, Grimmjow Jaegerjacques.
SQUAD 3 - Ichimaru Gin
You had just come back from the World of the Living, humming a tune, that you learned was a Christmas carol, through the barracks. You learned so much about humans during this time. Festivals with lights, decorated trees, gift giving and food sharing… everyone seemed so happy! Maybe it would be worth spreading that cheer into your squad.
Your arms were carrying boxes of stringed lights. While there weren’t any pine trees, maybe Captain Ichimaru would let you decorate some of the persimmon trees?
“Whatcha got there?” Speak of the devil and he shall appear, you thought.
“I was about to go to your office, Captain!” You said, as you bowed to him. Captain Ichimaru chuckled as he looked over the boxes in your arms. “I wanted your permission if I could decorate some persimmon trees with these lights.”
“It’s that time of the year already? Let me help you.” Captain Ichimaru clicked his tongue as took some of the boxes out of your arms, walking towards his favourite patch of trees.
“You know about Christmas, Captain Ichimaru?” You asked, as the two of you reached the trees.
The captain gave you wide grin, “I know some things, like how people receive gifts if they’ve been naughty or nice.”
You smirked at him, “oh is that so? Where do I fall on your list, Captain?”
Captain Ichimaru didn’t say anything, instead he unfurled the string of lights, giving it a quick inspection. Then, without warning, he flexed his spiritual pressure, forcing you on to your knees, quickly using the string lights to tie your arms behind your back, wrapping the around your breasts. He flicked his fingers, and to your surprise, the string lights were on, illuminating your covered breasts.
“You”, the captain drawled, cupping your chin, forcing you to look up to him, “have and will always be naughty.” He smirked. With his free hand, he pulled his cock out through his uniform, placing the soft shaft on your lips.
“But maybe you can show me how nice you are,” he cooed, patting your head as you begin to bob your head up and down his growing erection.
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SQUAD 4 - Unohana Retsu
The scent of freshly baked goods wafted through the kitchens of the Squad 4 barracks. You and Hanatarou had visited the World of the Living to learn how to bake sugar cookies and the like from the spirit of a pastry chef, and now you wanted to bake some more.
Specifically… you wanted to give some to your captain. While you weren’t sure what to get her as a gift, you knew she enjoyed (moderately) tasting sweets. You had made an assortment of baked treats for her, some with matcha, azuki, black sesame, and dark chocolate, wondering what her favourite would be.
You gently placed all the treats into a decorative box and made your way to her office. Before you could knock on her door, you heard her call your name, “please come in.”
As you entered her office, you were startled to see Captain Unohana outside of her uniform. Her long black hair was put into a bun, and she wore a form-fitting grey dress with fur trimming.
“Captain, if I may,” you bowed, a blush creeping on your cheeks, “you look beautiful.”
Captain Unohana smiled at you, “thank you. The World of the Living has some interesting clothing for this time of the year.” She fanned her hand over her clothes, “and this one in particular called to me.”
“It looks like it was made for you.” You explained, a blush creeping on your cheeks as you noticed her ample cleavage.
The captain gave you a knowing smile, “you’re quite kind. How may I be of help to you, my dear?” She asked, her gaze pointing towards the box in your hand.
“Oh!” You were so shocked by her appearance, you completely forgot why you were here to begin with. “In the spirit of the holidays… I made these treats for you.”
“Then let us have some tea and enjoy these together.” Captain Unohana calmly said, as she prepared her favourite brew.
The two of you sat down, enjoying the warm tea and the snacks you gifted her. One treat in particular caught your captain’s attention. You were heavy handed with the whipped cream topping, to which she gently scooped up with her finger.
“This is delicious.” She remarked, “did you even make the cream yourself?”
“Yes!” You excitedly answered, “A pastry chef taught Hanatarou and I how to make different baked goods. I wanted to share with you what we learned.” You beamed at her, proud of your work.
Unfortunately for you, your heavy-handed decorating had consequences, as whipped cream dropped on to your captain’s cleavage. You immediately went to her side to apologize, your hand ready with a napkin, until she caught your hand.
She gave you a gentle smile, “don’t worry about this.” Your eyes widened in shock as she pulled the top of her dress down, her bare chest open to you. Captain Unohana smeared the cream on to her nipples, as you watched in awe.
“Would you like a taste?” Captain Unohana smiled, as she pulled you to her breasts. Your face grew hot as your tongue darted across her cream-covered nipple, before sucking it harshly.
“Very good.” Your captain praised, patting your head. “There’s some more here…” as she spread more cream on her other breast. And then with a simple kido spell, pulled her clothes off her body, as she continued to place cream and crumbled desserts down her body. You feasted on her until you reached her wet pussy, her fingers holding the folds apart for you. “And this is my Christmas present for you, for being such a good girl.” Captain Unohana murmured, as she forced your head between her legs.
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MUKEN - Aizen Sousuke
Aizen glared at Head Captain Kyoraku, who was flirting with some random mother waiting in line with her child.
As part of his sentence, the Head Captain thought it would be a “wonderful idea” for Aizen to do some community service.
In the World of the Living.
As a Mall Santa Claus.
Shutara Senjumaru, Mayuri Kurotsuchi and Kisuke Urahara joined forces, for some reason, to make him clothing that would temporarily suppress his spiritual pressure. He could mingle with humans. He only had to do this for 6 hours.
He begrudgingly accepted, much to the shock of everyone. While he could think of a plan to escape. It was more so he was curious to know what the World of the Living was like since his imprisonment. And also Ichigo Kurosaki would “help” as an elf. And he was.
Aizen didn’t mind Ichigo, and much to Ichigo’s surprise, he got along with Aizen. But he couldn’t talk with Aizen for long, as parents and children kept lining up, to tell Santa Aizen want they wanted for Christmas.
You on the other hand, were doing some last-minute shopping with a few friends. You stood in your tracks as you looked at the Santa Claus display, “hey guys… Santa looks pretty cute, don’t you think?” You asked.
Your friends laughed, “if you think so, why don’t you wait to sit in his lap?” They teased. Not one to backdown from a challenge, you stubbornly accepted.
“Fine! Take my stuff. I’ll catch up with you guys later.” Your friends hollered as you stood in line, parents and caregivers giving you side eyes and dirty looks as you waited along with them. You were also getting peculiar looks from an elf with orange hair, but no matter! You were here on a mission.
“Hi miss, you know this is for children, right?” The elf asked.
“Oh I know,” you said, thinking of what to say to stay in line, but you couldn’t lie to save your life. “I was dared to meet with this Santa, and I have some money on the line.” The elf gave you a confused look, then laughed.
“I’ve been there!” He exclaimed, “don’t worry about it. I’ll let you pass.” He gave you an easy smile, as he gave a thumbs up to the other elves and Santa Claus.
You swore Santa rolled his deep brown eyes, but no matter. You were now up!
“You can sit on my lap.” Santa Aizen calmly said, almost bored, not looking at you.
You hesitantly sat on his lap as two elves held cameras ready to take your photo.
“And what would you like for Christmas?” Santa Aizen asked in a monotonous voice.
“Hmm..” you exaggerated your actions, cupping your chin and slightly leaning into him, “I would like Santa to fuck me when he’s free.” You smiled cheerfully.
This didn’t surprise Santa Aizen, as he chuckled. He lowered his voice so only you could hear, “give me 15 minutes.”
And 15 minutes passed, where Santa Aizen took you to a closed off office space in the mall. Doors locked, as his cock was buried in your weeping pussy, your moans and the obscene sounds filling the empty space. His cock stretched you full, as he continuously slammed his hips into you. But before you reached your orgasm, Santa Aizen pulled out of you, and without warning, came all over your face, using it as a cleaning rag.
Tucking himself in, Santa Aizen smiled at his handiwork, as you tried to wipe his cooling cum off your face. “I hope you enjoyed your present.”
But before you could protest, Santa Aizen left the room, leaving you to clean up after yourself. “This Santa deserves some coal or something.” You grumbled, as you walked back to your friends, a slight limp in your step as your pussy ached.
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ESPADA - Grimmjow Jaegerjacquez
“Why do I gotta wear this stupid fucking thing?” Grimmjow grumbled as he pulled the red Santa Claus hat off his head.
You rolled your eyes as you looked at Grimmjow through your mirror. You were busy applying the last bits of your makeup for tonight, and of course Grimmjow was acting like a child.
“Because Grimmjow, it’s a Christmas party. We should at least look festive.”
Grimmjow scoffed, “I fucking hate red.”
“And you also hate wearing ugly sweaters! With your attitude, don’t be surprised if Santa gives you coal as a present.”
“Santa isn’t real.” Grimmjow sneered.
You faked a shocked gasp, hand over your heart as if he said something hurtful. “How can you tell me, Mrs. Claus, that my husband isn’t real?!” You faked cried.
Grimmjow rolled his eyes as he watched your theatrics unfold.
“Since my husband isn’t real, I guess I have to do this by myself tonight.” You sobbed, rubbing you crocodile tears away as you got on to your bed. Grimmjow raised an eyebrow at what you were doing.
“I am real. I’m right here!” Grimmjow yelled, but you were ignoring him, as you spread open your legs, revealing your bare pussy under your red Santa-themed skirt.
“Oh where’s Santa Claus…” you whined, as you began to play with yourself, rubbing your clit, purposefully avoiding Grimmjow. “I have a present for him, but I heard he wasn’t real…”
Grimmjow huffed, “I’ll show you who’s real,” climbing on to bed spreading your legs wider. Without hesitation, he lapped at your clit and pushed a finger inside you, as you sighed happily, pushing his head further into your wet pussy.
Once Grimmjow lifted his head from your pussy, you smirked at him, seeing his glazed eyes and face covered in your juices. “You know…” you cooed to Grimmjow, “only Mrs. Claus can give Santa a present.” You teased, as he watched you push two of your own fingers inside you.
Grimmjow smirked, “well then, I hope I’m on her ‘nice’ list.”
61 notes · View notes
reidishh · 27 days ago
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BUY ME PRESENTS!
These works are NSFW - any persons that are considered minors (under the age of 18) found to be reading/interacting with these works will be promptly blocked from this blog.
Now presenting a REIDISHH Kinkmas special: BUY ME PRESENTS! For fifteen days in the month of December, starting December 1st and ending December 31st, I'll be posting kinky fics and drabbles starring our favorite slutty little crime fighters.
Note: There are no specific dates that these will be posted. These will be posted sometime between 12/1 and 12/31.
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"Fuck the jet, send the sleigh! It's a packed holiday and I've got options, babe!" - Sabrina Carpenter, Buy Me Presents
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001 :: LOSS OF VIRGINITY with AARON HOTCHNER
002 :: COCKWARMING with RAFAEL BARBA
003 :: MUTUAL MASTURBATION with SONNY CARISI
004 :: KNIFE PLAY with EMILY PRENTISS
005 :: SEX TAPE with SPENCER REID
006 :: SOMNOPHILIA with AARON HOTCHNER
007 :: CNC with SPENCER REID
008 :: EDGING with EMILY PRENTISS
009 :: ORGASM DENIAL with SPENCER REID
010 :: THREESOME with SPENCER REID + SONNY CARISI
011 :: ROLEPLAY with RAFAEL BARBA
012 :: BREEDING with SONNY CARISI
013 :: BONDAGE with RAFAEL BARBA
014 :: VOYEURISM with AARON HOTCHNER
015 :: EXHIBITIONISM with SONNY CARISI
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© reidishh 2024, all rights reserved.
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648 notes · View notes
w4ndal0ver · 20 days ago
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teacher's pet (professor!agatha x student!reader)
W4NDALOVER'S KINKMAS | 2024
dec 6: teachers pet (professor!agatha x student!reader)
⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆
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⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆
KINKMAS MASTERLIST | 2024
summary: Professor Harkness has always wanted you, but when you don't give into her advances she decides to use an enchanted quill in order to sway you in her direction.
warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, dubcon, enchanted quill, strap-on, begging, choking, mommy kink (used cautiously), slight breeding kink, kind of edging if you squint hard enough
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teachers pet.
Agatha sat at her desk, a carefully measured distance between herself and the papers that lay before her. She had long since learned to enjoy the quiet moments alone in her office, the brief respite between the chaos of the outside world and the controlled environment she had created here. It was a sanctuary, a place where she could indulge in her thoughts. Thoughts of you.
She’d noticed you from the very first day you stepped into her office and over time, the quiet ache of her desire had only grown. Your eagerness, the way you were always the first to arrive at class, sitting at the front with a notebook in hand, always eager to ask questions, always searching for her approval. You were the perfect student, disciplined, careful - but there was something in the way you looked at her, something that went past mere respect.
She watched as you entered her office, just as you always did - tentative, but eager. Your hand, delicately rested against the doorframe for a moment before you stepped inside, a slight hesitation hanging in the air. Your gaze flickered toward her before quickly looking down at the floor, and Agatha’s lips curled into the smallest of smiles. 
You were still shy, still so innocent, but there was something undeniably captivating about you. The way you moved, so aware of your body, and yet, you couldn’t help but draw attention to yourself. The tightness of your skirts that gripped so perfectly to your ass, and she couldn’t deny that she’d caught a glimpse of you more and more. Your carefully chosen attire, always polished and proper, but undeniably teasing. 
“Professor, you wanted to discuss my project?” You say, your voice soft, a little hesitant, as though you weren’t entirely sure how to be in her presence. Agatha had heard that tone before. It was the sound of someone trying too hard to act professional, to hold onto some semblance of control, when in reality, they were anything but composed. 
She tilted her head, letting her eyes linger on you a moment longer than necessary, taking in the way your fingers nervously played with the hem of your skirt, how your lips pressed together just a little too slightly. 
“Of course, come in darling.” Agatha responded, her voice smooth. She gestured for you to sit, and as you settled into the chair across from her, she couldn’t help but notice how you shifted slightly, tugging your skirt down as though it might betray you. She bit back a laugh and how you were so unaware of how you made her feel.
Your hands rested on your lap, fingers curled slightly, the faint tremble just noticeable enough for Agatha to catch it. She knew what you were trying to do, trying to appear professional, trying to act as if this meeting was no different from any other. But she had seen you enough times to know the difference between what you showed and what you truly felt. The way your gaze lingered on her when you thought she wasn’t looking, the slight quiver of your lip when you asked a question that was a little too personal, a little too loaded.
Her gaze drifted to your face, watching as you shifted again, glancing down at your notes, a lock of hair falling across your forehead. Agatha could feel the pull between you both, an invisible thread that kept drawing her attention to you, to the way your lips parted slightly when you spoke, as though you were unsure of the words coming out, unsure of yourself.
“Everything seems to be progressing well with your project,” Agatha said, her voice smooth, but her mind already elsewhere. The light in your eyes, the way your shoulders were just a bit too stiff for someone so young, so open. You wanted something more. She was sure of it. You didn’t have to say it, Agatha could see it in every small gesture, every fleeting glance.
You were so careful, always so careful, never pushing beyond the boundary you had drawn around yourself. But Agatha knew, in her quietest moments, that you wanted to. She had seen it in the way you looked at her when you thought she wasn’t paying attention, the way your eyes lingered on her just a fraction longer than was appropriate. 
Her eyes fell to the desk, where the enchanted quill sat waiting. It had been in her possession for years, a relic of a past she tried to leave behind, and yet it called to her now, with an intensity she couldn’t ignore. With just a flick of her fingers, she could make this moment more than what it was, more than just a professor and her student. She could make you feel things, things that neither of you had ever allowed yourselves to feel before.
Agatha’s fingers brushed the edge of the quill, her gaze flickering over to you again. You were so beautiful in your innocence, so unaware of the depth of your own desire. But tonight, that would change.
“You’ll need to sign this for me,” Agatha said, breaking the silence, her voice suddenly sharper, more purposeful. She reached for the parchment, her fingers brushing against the edge of the quill as she pushed the document toward you. Your eyes followed her every movement, and she couldn’t miss the way you shifted in your seat, your chest rising and falling just a little faster than before.
You reached for the quill, your fingers brushing against the smooth, cool surface. Agatha’s heart skipped a beat. There it was. The magic would begin, slowly at first, unnoticed. But it would build, and when it did, you would have no choice but to acknowledge what you both had been avoiding for far too long.
The moment your fingers brushed the enchanted quill, a shift occurred in the room—subtle, almost imperceptible, but unmistakable. Agatha’s pulse quickened, her gaze locked on you with a quiet intensity as you signed your name on the parchment, the ink swirling a little too smoothly beneath your hand. She watched, savoring the way your shoulders tensed, the slight shift in your posture, as if something deep inside of you had stirred to life.
You didn’t know it yet, of course, but Agatha could already feel the subtle change in the air. The magic was working its way through your system, slow and steady, like a gentle tide pulling you under. You were still unaware, still looking down at the paper with a furrowed brow, your expression unreadable. But Agatha saw the smallest signs, the flush creeping up your neck, the way your breath seemed to catch in your throat.
“I also wanted to ask you about this part of your essay. It's a really interesting take.” Agatha says, wanting to confuse you even more as your head becomes fuzzy with the lust enchantment, knowing that the more you think about what to say, the more sensitive and desperate you’d become. 
You placed the quill back on the desk, the delicate tip still glimmering in the dim light of the office. Agatha leaned back in her chair, her fingers tapping the edge of her pen, watching you closely. She could hear the soft rustle of your skirt as you shifted in the chair, the sound of your breath growing just a touch heavier with each passing moment. It was subtle, but it was there. The tension. The pull.
“You seem restless,” Agatha said, her voice low, almost a purr. She watched as your eyes flickered toward her, a brief hesitation before you met her gaze. The flush on your cheeks had deepened now, and Agatha couldn’t help but revel in the shift she had caused. She had always been so good at reading people, at sensing the smallest changes, and now she could see the effects of her subtle manipulation working its way through you.
You shifted again, this time more noticeable, a shift of your legs that made your skirt rise slightly, just enough for Agatha to catch a glimpse of the delicate skin beneath. She bit her lip, but only for a moment, as she kept her focus entirely on you. The way you crossed and uncrossed your legs, the way your fingers fidgeted with the edge of your sleeve, each motion a sign of the growing discomfort building within you. You weren’t just restless anymore; you were beginning to feel the weight of something unspoken, something you couldn’t quite name.
"Is everything alright?" Agatha asked, her voice soft, but her eyes sharp, taking in every little detail. She could see the way your eyes darted to her lips for the briefest of moments before you quickly looked away. The way you swallowed, throat bobbing, as though trying to push down something you didn’t know how to acknowledge.
"I - I think so," you murmured, but your voice was different now. The words came slower, as though you were struggling to keep your thoughts in order. Agatha saw it. The way your hands gripped the edge of your chair a little too tightly, the way your legs shifted restlessly beneath the table. There was no denying it now, the magic was working.
She leaned forward, just enough for her presence to feel closer, more palpable. She could see your chest rise and fall more quickly, your pupils dilating ever so slightly as she made the smallest movement, as though testing the waters.
"Are you sure?" Agatha's question hung in the air, almost teasing, but never fully pushing. She wanted to see just how far you would go, how much you would reveal before you could no longer control it. She had always watched you, watched you closely. She knew you were waiting for something, something that only she could give you.
You shifted again, a slight tremor in your hand as you placed it on the table, as if trying to steady yourself, but it only betrayed you. Agatha saw the way your fingers twitched, the way your eyes refused to meet hers, no matter how hard you tried to regain some semblance of control. You couldn’t hide it.
The air between you both was thick now, taut with something neither of you could name, but both of you could feel. The silence stretched for a moment before Agatha broke it with a soft, knowing smile.
"You don’t have to pretend with me," she said, the words laced with an almost untraceable sweetness. She could see the way your breath caught at the sound of her voice, the way your eyes flickered to her lips again, only this time, you didn’t look away.
You were slipping, Agatha realized, and she couldn’t help the small thrill that coursed through her. This was it. She had waited so long to see you like this, to watch you come undone before her eyes, and now, the anticipation of it was nearly unbearable.
You shifted in your seat once more, and Agatha’s eyes followed the movement, the way your body reacted to the growing heat between you both. She could see the slight sheen of sweat forming at the back of your neck, the way your breath was becoming more shallow, more labored. The quill had done its job, heightened your awareness, your sensitivity to every small movement, every fleeting touch.
"I- I think I need a moment," you whispered, your voice trembling now, no longer the calm, collected student she was used to.
Agatha’s lips curved upward, a slow, deliberate smile spreading across her face. She could feel the weight of your desire, could almost taste it in the air between you. She knew exactly what you needed, even if you didn’t yet understand it yourself.
"You can have all the time you need," she said softly, her voice a mere breath of sound, knowing full well that the moment had already passed. The spell had already begun its work. And there was no turning back now.
Agatha lets her gaze drop to your hands, noting the way your fingers curl just slightly, as though the movement is automatic, as if you’re trying to hold onto something—anything—to stop the flood of feelings threatening to overwhelm you. You’re so close now, so close to giving in, and Agatha relishes in the control she holds over you, the way every little gesture of yours betrays your struggle.
“Are you feeling... uncomfortable?” Agatha asks, her voice soft, like silk. She leans forward ever so slightly, just enough to see the way you flinch, the way your breath catches in your throat, like you’re suddenly hyper-aware of the way she’s watching you. Her eyes linger on your lips, and she can feel the subtle tension in your body as you fight not to follow her gaze, not to let the heat between you both become too obvious.
Your breath comes in shallow bursts now, faster than before. You shift in your seat again, a little more urgently this time, and Agatha watches as your legs move restlessly, the hem of your skirt inching higher, revealing the delicate curve of your calf. It’s an innocent movement, a natural shift, but Agatha’s eyes track it like a predator eyeing its prey. The magic of the quill hums in the air around you both, thickening the space between you, and she can feel the way it pulls at your resolve, making every small motion feel more intense, more charged with that irresistible pull.
“I, I don’t know what’s happening,” you whisper, your voice barely audible now, strained with the effort of trying to hold onto whatever control you have left. Your eyes flicker to hers for a fleeting moment, then quickly dart away, like a moth too afraid to fly too close to the flame.
Agatha feels her lips part in the smallest of smiles. You think you’re losing control, but she knows better. You’ve been wanting this, she tells herself, even as she watches you struggle against the tide. You want this. You just don’t have the courage to admit it yet.. Your hands clench tighter, your body swaying just slightly in your seat as though you can’t quite decide whether to move closer to her or flee. But Agatha knows. She knows you’ll stay. 
You’ve never felt like this before. You’ve had moments of embarrassment, the familiar flutter of nerves when speaking with Agatha, but this? This is something else entirely. It’s not just your heart racing; it’s something deep inside you, something primal that you can’t name. You feel hungry, in a way that’s foreign, unrecognizable, and yet you know it’s her. Her presence, the way she watches you, the way her eyes seem to follow your every move.
It’s all too much.
Agatha, on the other hand, remains completely oblivious to the chaos she’s unwittingly caused. Her fingers continue their idle drumming on the desk, her posture relaxed, as though nothing is out of the ordinary. She’s staring at the pile of papers in front of her, her attention seemingly elsewhere.
It should be comforting, the way she remains so calm, so controlled, but it only seems to fuel the fire within you. The longer she remains unaware, the more your body betrays you, the more desperate you become for her. You can’t think straight anymore, can’t focus on anything except the ache between your legs, the burning need that has taken root deep inside you.
Finally, you can’t take it any longer. You stand abruptly, your hands trembling as you push the chair back from the desk. Agatha doesn’t notice, her eyes still focused on her notes, still completely absorbed in whatever she’s reading. The sight of her so composed, so calm, is the final straw. You take a shaky step forward, the distance between you and her now feeling insurmountable, like something invisible but real is keeping you apart.
Your voice cracks when you speak, the words escaping before you can stop them. “Professor, I- I need you.”
The moment the words leave your mouth, you freeze. You hadn’t meant to say it. You hadn’t meant for it to sound so desperate, so raw, but the confession is out there now, hanging in the air between you. You swallow hard, your throat dry, as you dare to look up at her.
Agatha blinks, her brow furrowing slightly as she looks at you. For a moment, you wonder if she didn’t hear you properly, if she’s just playing it cool, trying to maintain the authority she always does. But then, slowly, her eyes shift from the papers on the desk to you, and she seems to take in the way you’re standing, how tense you are, how your breathing has changed. She pauses, her lips parting slightly, as though she’s unsure what to make of your admission.
“I-" she begins, her voice soft but still steady. "I’m not sure what you mean. Is something wrong with your project? I thought we were making good progress.”
You shake your head, your chest tightening with each passing second. This isn’t about the project. Not anymore. You can’t seem to form a coherent sentence, your mind clouded by the sensation of wanting her, of needing her. Your body is practically shaking with the intensity of it, your fingers curling into fists at your sides to keep from reaching for her, to keep from pulling her closer.
“No,” you whisper, the word slipping out like a plea. “I need you. I don’t, I don’t know what’s happening, but I can’t- I can’t control it anymore.”
Agatha’s eyes widen slightly, the confusion in her gaze evident, and for a moment, you think she might laugh it off, dismiss it as some odd outburst. But the longer she stares at you, the more she seems to realize that you’re not joking. That this isn’t some fleeting moment of embarrassment or an impulsive comment. This is real. And the realization crashes into her like a wave.
For the briefest of moments, there’s a flicker of something in her expression—something unreadable. Her lips part, but no words come out, as though she’s unsure of how to respond, unsure of whether she should push you away or give in to the pull that seems to be growing between you both.
You take a step closer, the sound of your shoes echoing in the silence. Your body is drawn to her as if it’s not your own anymore, each movement an involuntary reaction to the desire swelling inside you. You’re so close now, so close you can feel the heat radiating from her body, see the subtle rise and fall of her chest as she breathes. It feels like there’s an invisible force pulling you both together, and you’re powerless to stop it.
“I don’t know what you’ve done to me,” you say, your voice trembling now, the words tumbling out in a rush. “But I can’t think. I can’t think of anything but you.”
Agatha is silent for a long moment, her gaze flickering over your face as if searching for any sign that this might be a trick. But there’s no mistaking it now. She can see it, the desperation in your eyes, the way your body is trembling with the weight of your own need. She can feel it too, the way the air between you has shifted, charged with something neither of you can deny.
And still, she remains quiet, her fingers resting on the desk in front of her, her expression unreadable. For a brief, agonizing moment, you wonder if she will reject you, if she will turn away and pretend this never happened. But then, finally, she speaks.
“I see,” Agatha says, her voice almost too soft to hear, but there’s no mistaking the authority in it. “And what is it that you want from me?”
The silence stretches between you, thick and heavy, the tension palpable as Agatha stands still, her gaze unwavering. You can feel the heat pooling in your chest and between your legs, crawling up your neck, suffocating you. Every part of your body aches, an unfamiliar hunger gnawing at your insides, growing with each second that passes. You can’t think straight anymore. You can’t stand it.
You swallow hard, your throat dry, and your hands shake as you finally break the silence. “Please, Agatha,” you whisper, voice trembling. “I can’t take it anymore. I need you. It hurts. Please, make it stop.” Your words spill out in a rush, a frantic plea, and you take a step forward, drawn to her as though you have no control over your body. “Please I don’t know what’s happening, but it hurts. I can’t think straight, I don’t know what to do, I don’t.”
You’re rambling now, desperation clear in your voice, your entire being trembling with the weight of your need. You’ve never felt like this before,so lost, so vulnerable, so exposed. You don’t know how much longer you can stand this unbearable pressure, this overwhelming heat, this need for her.
Agatha’s gaze softens slightly, and you see something flicker in her eyes, a flicker of understanding, maybe even something else. But her expression remains controlled, her facade still intact. She was corrupting you and it felt so sweet.
“Sit,” she commands, her voice calm but firm, her fingers tapping lightly on the top of her desk. The sound echoes through the room, and for a brief moment, you think she’s testing you, waiting to see if you’ll obey, if you’ll listen to her.
Without thinking, your body moves before your mind can even catch up. You move quickly, too quickly, as if your limbs are not entirely your own, and you sit on the edge of the desk in front of her chair. The surface is cool beneath you, but it does nothing to quell the burning ache inside.
“I need you,” you say again, your voice barely more than a broken whisper. “It hurts so much, I can’t take it. Please, Agatha, please, I need you to, to make it stop.”
Your words are frantic now, desperate, each one laced with an urgency that makes your breath catch in your throat. You can’t think. You can only feel. Your body is on fire, your pulse pounding in your ears, and all you can do is beg.
Agatha leans back in her chair, her eyes still fixed on you, and for a long moment, she says nothing. Her fingers rest lightly on the arms of her chair, but the way she holds herself now is different, less rigid, less controlled. Her gaze moves slowly over you, and you feel it like a physical touch, every inch of her attention focused on your trembling form. She’s watching how your skirt has rode up your thighs, your dampened underwear on show to her, this is exactly how she wanted you. 
“I don’t think you understand,” she murmurs, her voice low and tender. But there’s no mistaking the edge to her tone, the quiet power behind her words. “You’re asking for something you don’t fully grasp. Something you won’t be able to walk away from.”
“I don’t care,” you say, the words coming out before you can stop them. “I don’t care. I just I need you to touch me. I need to feel something, anything, to stop this burning inside me.”
You’re on the edge of breaking, and it’s almost too much. Every nerve in your body is on fire, and the ache between your legs is unbearable. You need her. You need her so badly that the thought of being without her, of not feeling her, is enough to make you feel dizzy, lightheaded.
Agatha stands suddenly, her movement fluid and deliberate. You barely register it before she’s right in front of you, so close that you can feel the heat radiating from her body. Her fingers graze your knee as she steps closer, and the touch is electric, sending a jolt of sensation straight through you.
Her lips part slightly, and she leans in, her breath warm against your ear. “Tell me what you need,” she says softly, almost coaxing, but there’s an undeniable authority in her voice now, one that sends a shiver down your spine.
You don’t hesitate. You can’t. “I need you to fuck me.” you gasp, the words slipping out as though they were the only thing holding you together. 
There’s a moment of silence, just a beat, a breath, before Agatha’s fingers press lightly against your chin, tilting your head up so that you’re forced to meet her gaze. Her eyes are dark now, and there’s something predatory in them, something that makes your heart race even faster, makes your body ache even more.
Without a word, she leans in, her lips brushing against your forehead, soft at first, gentle, before she pulls back slightly, her eyes still locked on yours. “You’re sure this is what you want?” she asks, her voice low, almost a whisper, but the weight behind the question makes it impossible to ignore.
You nod fervently, your voice barely a whisper, trembling with desperation. “Yes, yes, Agatha. I need this. I need you.”
Agatha’s eyes flicker with something unreadable, and for a moment, you wonder if she’s reconsidering, if she’s going to push you away, make you leave. But then, slowly, her lips curl into the faintest of smiles—something dark, something knowing.
“Good,” she murmurs, her voice almost satisfied. “Then I’ll give you what you need.”
With that, she steps closer, her hands finding their way to your waist, pulling you closer to her, the closeness nearly overwhelming. She doesn’t speak as she moves, doesn’t need to. There’s no need for words now. Her actions say everything. And you, desperate, trembling with need, can’t help but give in completely.
You reach for her neck, unable to contain yourself anymore, pulling her face closer to yours, trying to connect your lips together in a desperate scramble to feel her on your body. Agatha complied, that same smirk she always wore not once leaving her face as she finally had you sat on her desk, your legs spread round her body, doing anything you could to get her to touch you. 
She doesn’t dare resist your scrambling, instead letting you pull her into a deep kiss, her lips sliding against yours in a messy rhythm, not able to find any relief in how you were feeling. Agatha was anything but gentle with you but you were not complaining, her tongue started to trace your bottom lip and you opened up immediately, letting her explore you with her tongue. You groaned loudly into her mouth, your legs wrapping around her waist, trapping your professor between your legs. She took this opportunity to test your waters, her teeth scraping against your bottom lip before pulling it away from your face, her teeth digging into your skin. When she was met with a muffled moan, it was the prettiest sound Agatha had ever heard and she was thankful for how much rougher you were going to be able to take her now she’d enchanted your emotions and more importantly your body. 
You start to grind your hips up against Agatha’s crotch, you couldn’t work out what was making you feel like this, you’d never acted like this with anyone, and even though you’d imagined it with your professor, you never thought you’d be in this position. The harder you grinded against her, it became more apparent that she was packing something underneath her trousers and the thought of your professor wearing a strap beneath that suit was making you feral.
“You found something you’re looking for?” Agatha teased as you reached your hand to grab the bulge that lay underneath, a moan tumbling from your lips, your legs wrapping around her tighter to feel her cock against you. 
“Do you always wear that?” You ask breathlessly, confused momentarily for why your professor would be wearing a strap to just sit and grade papers in her office. Before you could question it further, Agatha snaked her hand around to touch you through your soaked underwear, hiking your skirt further up your legs and you couldn’t pass out at the feeling. 
“Fuck you’re soaked.” Agatha groaned, the sound of your breathy moans something that she couldn’t ignore, she wanted to devour you, but there was something about leaving you in this state, so whiny and desperate that was particularly appealing, but when she looked at your pleading eyes she realised she couldn’t ever do that to you. “Aren’t you a pretty little thing?” Agatha cooed as she pushed your underwear to the side, looking in awe at your pussy dripping in arousal. You looked so pure and untouched, everything about how your folds trembled in the anticipation to be touched was drawing Agatha in more than she thought she could be.
“Professor please I need you to fill me up.” You whine, the cold air hitting your arousal making you realise just how worked up you’d become. You must’ve said something right, because Agatha let out a breathy grunt before working her index finger towards your entrance, her other hand coming up to grasp at your throat before she pushed her entire digit inside of you. Your strangled moan was even prettier than Agatha expected and when you pushed your neck further into her grip and started to lift your hips to slide her finger in and out of you, she shook her head in genuine disbelief at how pathetic you looked like this. 
You start whining when Agatha doesn’t match your thrusts, wanting nothing more than for her to start pounding her fingers into you, but instead she just slips another finger inside you with ease, stretching your tight pussy around her fingers instead of thrusting into you. You were squirming up against her touch, your clit burning at how it was being ignored by her. Your doe eyes looking up at her as her grip tightened around your neck. “You’re just too tight, I need to warm you up doll.” You groan at her words, knowing for a fact that you could take her. 
“Professor I can take you, I need to take all of you now.” You say desperately, thighs shaking around her waist. You take it into your own hands, unbuckling Agatha’s belt in a chaotic scramble to see her strap that was waiting to be buried inside of you. Normally Agatha wouldn’t tolerate this desperate behaviour, but considering she was the one that put the spell on you, she let it slide, watching in awe as you undressed her bottom half, waiting for the cock to spring out and when it did your eyes widened. “It’s huge.” You gasp, not expecting the sheer girth and length of the purple cock to take you this much by surprise.
“Yeah and you’re gonna take it.” Agatha grins at the scarlet flush on your cheeks, expecting some level of protest, but instead she is met with your hands scrambling at her hips, trying to push her towards you. Agatha chuckled with a low hum at the familiar eagerness that first drew her to you. She doesn’t waste any more time, spitting down onto her hand before rubbing it up and down her strap a few times before slapping the head against your pussy, drawing out a string of desperate whines, your hips bucking wildly at the feeling. “Keep still princess.” She whispers, holding your thighs down onto the desk as she slightly pushes into you, careful not to hurt you. 
You didn’t care, you needed to feel your Professor's cock deep inside you and when she can feel the tremble of your thighs trying to get yourself further onto her strap, she does it for you. She enters you with one single thrust and your fingernails dig hard into her back as she starts to pound harder into you, her hands now gripping your waist, pulling you harder onto her to meet each movement. 
Agatha could see how swollen your clit had become, it was basically begging to be touched, but she knew if she did so much as swipe her finger across it, you’d come and be way too sensitive to go again. The enchantment usually had that effect, but you weren’t letting this end here. You were way too shy to ever come back to her after you remember how pathetic you were asking, so she was going to drag this out for as long as she could. 
She kept pounding into you, your pretty moans had turned into guttural gasps and grunts as you felt the burning in your clit, wanting nothing but to reach down and touch yourself, but you knew better than that, even with the intense feelings you were having, you weren’t about to mess this up. 
You could feel something building inside of you, you’d never come without clitoral stimulation, it was different, but you were craving some sort of relief. Agatha could feel you trembling beneath her, and before you knew it you were empty again. You felt like crying, but before you had a chance to react, her hands were gripping at your scalp, pulling you off the desk and hitting the ground with a thump. Your knees were aching from the drop, but when Agatha turned to look at you, her strap eye level with you, you couldn’t feel it anymore, the only thing you could focus on was the fire in your core begging to be put out. 
“Come on doll, you know you want to.” Agatha smirks at the way your eyes were gleaming at the strap that was glistening in your arousal. Her hand was gripping around the base, guiding it towards your closed mouth, moving the head against your lips until you gave in and your mouth fell open, your tongue immediately attacking Agatha’s cock. 
You wanted nothing more than for her to grab your head and force her cock down your throat, so you tried to do just that. Taking as much of the length into your mouth as you could and Agatha groaned as if she could feel it, her head tilted back as she grabbed the back of your head, helping you as you desperately tried to take the entire thing down your throat. You started to choke as she thrusted into your mouth, she tried to pull out but you gripped the back of her thighs. You suddenly had an intense desire to have your throat fucked raw, something that you’d never even really been into before, but this felt so different. 
“God you’re such a whore,” Agatha spluttered at how keen you were to please her, “You’d do anything as long as I’m pounding into you.” With each word she thrusted harder into your mouth as you nodded at her assumption, moaning and spluttering around her cock, saliva dripping down your chin. 
This time she pulled out of you, sitting back onto her desk chair leaving you on your knees, your brain fuzzy and your face covered in saliva. “Come sit on my lap, you can do the rest of the work if you’re that desperate.” Agatha said casually and she’d never seen someone scramble to get up so quickly. You were dripping down your thighs, your mascara running down your cheeks and combining with the saliva dripping from your chin. 
Agatha couldn’t help but put her hand on your face as you straddled her lap, lowering yourself down onto her strap. She wiped the saliva from your chin, her eyes not leaving your cunt as you finally took the entire thing and before you could even adjust you started bouncing up and down on it, chasing the orgasm that had been ripped from you. Agatha would’ve usually sat back and watched you struggle, but there was something so endearing about your primal desperation to be fucked that she decided to help you out, thrusting her hips back into you as you moved down against her. 
“Fuck Momm-” You stopped yourself, “Professor sorry that’s what I meant.” That did it, Agatha moaned at your words, picking you up off of her cock and slamming you against the desk, forcefully bending you over and spreading you open before thrusting her cock back into you as you moaned gutterally against the desk. 
“You take Mommy’s cock so well princess.” Agatha growls, spreading you further so she could watch her strap disappear inside of you. She grabbed both of your hands, pinning them behind your back to give her some leverage as she thrusted harder into you than before. You could barely see, the pleasure overwhelming you to the point of no return. 
“Mommy my clit, please I need to cum all over your cock, please let me.” You whine, your words barely forming as each time you spoke your body was being shoved hard into her desk, her ungraded papers getting crumpled beneath you, but neither of you seemed to care. 
Agatha obliged, letting go of your hands, slipping one of hers between your legs to harshly brush circles against your clit, her other hand grabbing a fistful of your hair, tugging on your neck so she could see the faint reflection of your fucked out face in the black screen of her computer. 
It wasn’t going to take much more, Agatha was sure she could feel you clenching around her strap and the moans that were leaving your mouth were scratchy and tired, your throat burning from where she was thrusting into you. 
“Mommy, i-’
“Come now pretty girl or you won’t be coming tonight.” Agatha insisted and like magic, you felt every single muscle stand on the edge, your entire body freezing in pleasure as your head went completely blurry. It was like you were in that space forever, before it all came crashing down, every movement, every touch, built upon the last, your rhythm synchronized, bodies attuned to one another. Your breath hitched, a tremor coursing through her frame as the sensation intensified.
Suddenly, it was as if your body had given in completely to the waves of pleasure, an uncontrollable release coursing through you. A warm surge followed, unexpected and thrilling, but it came washing all over you and Agatha’s desk. You fell against the surface, your body soaked with your own arousal. Your professor scoffed at how you’d just squirted all over your fellow students' papers, finding it nothing but amusing. 
“Feel better?” Agatha asks as you nod hard enough to break your neck, the enchantment beginning to wear off as you felt the embarrassment reach your cheeks. 
“I am so sorry, I’ve ruined all these papers.” You say in genuine panic, lifting yourself up and trying to stack all the papers together before a hand touches your wrist, stilling your hands. 
“The only thing ruined here is you.” Agatha smiles, her hand reaching for your chin, her thumb pressing into your cheek as she tries to get you to calm down a little bit. 
“I didn’t know I could do that.” You laugh nervously, your usual demeanor falling back into place and Agatha smirks at how the familiar shyness build back up into your voice. 
“I have my ways.” Agatha smiles, placing a kiss against your forehead as you tug back at your skirt, trying to stop it from riding up your soaked thighs. 
“What like using enchanted quills on your favourite student?” It was your turn to smirk, watching as Agatha’s smile dropped, her brows furrowed in confusion to how you could even know what she had done. 
“How did you-”
“I think you forget how good of a student I am.” You grin, knowing that you’d done your research on witchcraft heavily for your final project, you basically knew every trick Agatha had up her sleeve, “I knew from the moment I picked it up.” You blush, your eyes dropping, almost ashamed to be admitting that you liked the thought of your professor being so desperate to fuck you that she’d go as far as using centuries old enchantments just to be able to do it. 
Agatha smiled at you, her own cheeks slightly flushed pink at being found out, but delighted in the fact that you let the spell take over you, knowing exactly what you were going to get if you did. “God you’d really do anything wouldn’t you.” You nod in response, both of you smiling widely at each other. 
“I think I need another meeting about my project.”
“Tomorrow, 6pm, I’ll be waiting.”
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