#this is obscenely long and I apologize | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tonycries · 11 months ago

Text

Long Overdue!

Synopsis. Just cóckwarming? Funny, you’ll see who breaks first - him or your poor pússy.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, cóckwarming, creampíes, puníshments, REALLY NÉEDY BOYS, breéding, MAJOR overstím, slight exhíbitionism (Toji’s), spítting, they bég, pússy-slappíng, cúmplay, absolutely ruíning Ryomen Sukuna, marathon séx, chokíng, jealousy (Toji’s side), mean Geto, spànking, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.9k (sowwy)

A/N. I would say have a lovely week but then I remembered that leaks are coming out so…<3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - 47 min.

“B-but, doll…” Toji’s groaning in that raggedly sweet tone, voice cracking ever-so-slightly when your plush walls gift him with another unabashed squeeze. Still unmoving. Torturous. “You’re actin’ like I can’t feel the way that needy pussy of yours is just cryin’ f’me.”

It hasn’t even been an hour, and oh god - Toji had absolutely no idea how he was going to make it out of this alive. No clue as to how he was going to break out of these extra heavy-duty handcuffs customized for him. To fuck up into your heavenly cunt the way you deserved.

The way he deserved.

“Sh-shut up.” you scoff, looking down at where you had him pinned down messily on the silken sheets. “Before I put a muzzle on you, too, after that stunt you pulled-”

“Anything.” he’s cutting you off. Syrupy mind just a bit too hazy with the feeling of his weepy tip kissing up against your g-spot and being able to do nothing about it. “Anything oh anything- muzzle me, tie me up- ngh fuckin’ call that loser coworker of yours and make me apologize for all I care. Just needa-”

Toji’s breath hitches when he squirms pathetically underneath you, biceps bulging when he pulls at those fuzzy pink restraints tied to the bedposts.

“Jus- want you to- fuckin’-” You’re squealing when you feel his thick, muscled thighs flex to plant his feet flat on the plush mattress, toned pelvis rippling. Body bowing up, up, up- “-move!”

It’s barely even a half-thrust, a grind - nothing in comparison to those long, thorough drags of Toji’s cock that you were used to. But the feeling of your every corner being stretched out so full after staying still for so long has you huffing and puffing in a way that has his swollen cock growing even girthier.

“It’s been ngh-” you reach blearily for the phone at your bedside table to look at the time. “-47 minutes! Y-you don’t get to act this way, y’know. Not after you were so rude to my coworker when meeting him earlier.” But it comes out more breathless than you intended.

Toji quirks a proud brow, cockiness seeping into his words now that he had you exactly where he wanted after so long. “No, I wasn’t.”

You’re babbling needily when your boyfriend’s reaching up to kiss at your bruised lips. Soft and licking at the seam of your petty complaints. “You told him to ‘fuck off’ right to his face, Toji! N’ after he was just being nice.”

“Just nice”, his ass. Toji saw the way he looked at you - and he didn’t like it, not one bit.

So in response, all you’re getting is another buck of his hips like such an animal. Once. Twice. Body curling up into yours to stuff your snug channel full. He’s waiting just until you keen and arch back for more before halting so agonizingly still, letting his painfully hard cock mold your plush walls.

You have to take a moment to collect yourself at the sensation of his prominent veins rubbing up against those hidden sweet spots only Toji could reach. To stop yourself from fucking back desperately.

“Dontcha think I’ve hah- already learned my lesson now, c’mon. Look-” Greedy eyes locking down at where you straddled him, your pretty pussy lips spread obscenely around his thick shaft. So so angry, covered in a mouthwateringly glossy sheen of your sweet sweet juices. “-bet she wants to be fucked like the slut she is.”

The force of his sharp pelvis has you tumbling face-first first into his chiseled pecs, just enough that Toji’s latching his bullying mouth onto one of your hardened nipples. Smug scar grazing against your sensitive areola, “Besides, is it really my fault?” Another ram, another crash against your ravaged g-spot, pumping in and out like he was addicted to the soft tug of your clingy walls back - now past just cockwarming. Way past. “Please, s’my right to be jealous, doll.” you watch his lewd smirk turn into something grittier. Something that definitely didn’t bode well for your poor cunt. Muffling out, “Sick bastards gotta know when to stay away from my woman.”

Before you’re opening your mouth to retort - or maybe threaten him with tying his legs up, too, so he’s left with only another 40 minutes of cockwarming - a sharp ring of your phone cuts through that heady, hypnotic air.

Toji only has to angle his head towards the flashing screen on the forgotten phone still dangling limply from your hand, and then his eyes are lighting up with such dangerous delight. “Answer it.”

“Wh-what?” you sputter. “Who is-”

Your coworker.

“Answer it.”

It’s the slow, sultry push and pull of Toji’s hips that have now got you in such a cockdrunk daze, a soft ah! ah! ah! leaving you with every rhythmic grind. He’s using the handcuffs as leverage to arch his hips off the bed, inching you closer and closer to puff out a feverishly sweet kiss onto your forehead. Whispering gently, “Answer it f’me, doll.”

And no sooner is the soft pad of your shaky thumb swiping across the screen, that tinny voice of your coworkers blaring through the speakers that-

“Hello?”

SNAP!

The handcuffs are hitting the hardwood floors before realization hits you - and in all of three seconds, Toji’s hulking frame is set free. Two rough palms sliding to your hips and just slamming you down the entire length of his throbbing cock. Burying so deep inside your heavenly cunt that you could feel the scratch of his public hair against your clit, Toi’s heavy balls twitching against your ass. And his voice - low and rumbling with need when he’s pulling your whole body weight up, up, up to kiss at his leaky, pink tip. And down. Again. And again and again and-

“Let’s show this fucker how sorry I really am, huh?”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - As long as you want, darling.

“Are you sure, my love?” Nanami whispers in your ear in a low, satiny purr. The hot water from that candlelit bubble bath he’d lit sloshing around just a bit when two large, rugged hands of his come down to massage your shoulders gently. “S’been a long day.”

And, really, it has. A long day of overly picky clients and an even pickier manager - a long day that your lovely husband was slowly crumbling away bit by bit. Chest rumbling behind yours, legs intertwined with yours in the water, thick cock stuffed deep in your cunt.

You’re slowly nudged back into reality when he’s planting a lazy, heated trail of open-mouthed kisses down your shoulder. “If you want to sit in silence we can do that, too, darling.”

“No, s’okay, Ken.” It’s all you can do to manage out a hazy shake of your head, looking up from where your back was pulled flushed against his hard, sculpted front. Grinding the curve of your ass back to drag against his abs, skin-on-skin. “Want you.”

Fuck, that has him twitching like a man starved inside you. And the stretch, oh - it made your toes curl in depravity, head spinning at just how much your gummy walls were being molded to the exact shape and size of him. Memorizing every little curve and pattern of lewd throbs along your pussy.

A low rumbling sound in the back of his throat, heavy balls so so ready and squeezing painfully at your obscene words.

“But- you know if I go rough on you-”

You kiss his sharp jaw, licking languidly along the long column of his milky throat. Drinking in his heady, masculine scent to murmur, “And I want you now.”

And, well, how could Nanami Kento ever deny his pretty lil’ wife?

Which is why, in all of three seconds, the man himself had you reaching across the bathtub on all fours. Knees weak and shaking like a newborn fawn where he held you up easily by your hips, swollen cock still angry and splitting your poor cunt apart from behind.

“Whatever my love wants-” you hear Nanami breathe out shakily, moving from the first time since he carried you inside the bathroom to reel every long fucking inch of his girthy cock out, out, out from your sloppy hole. And if you angled your head back just right you could catch that messy glisten of your slick down his shaft. All the way until his fat tip was smearing all over your glossy folds. Waiting. Greedy. “-she will get.”

And his words were so sincere - solid, thorough, just like the dizzying thrust he was gifting your poor cunt with. Stretching that first rim of muscle so wide, feeding your pussy every inch he could give.

“O-oh-” you moan brokenly, your thighs already shaky with the stimulation of having Nanami squeeze his fat shaft down in bullying thrusts just to fit his mean cock inside. “Oh my god, Ken s’already so much-”

“M’not even halfway in.” he’s hushing away your pretty cries with a line of kisses down your arched spine, finally settling to crash his lips against yours. Bare chest rippling with muscle, “You can take it. You’re my good girl, right? Gonna take my cock until you forget all about that hngh- bad day of yours?‘

It’s like clockwork the way you’re nodding so dazedly, not even sure what you even agreed to until Nanami’s pushing in proud, powerful rams of his hips. Tip so hefty, leaking so much precum down your cervix - down the corners of your sopping slit.

“You’re so big-” you whine, ass stinging with the harsh smacks into his front. Screwing your glassy eyes shut, “S’too much, ngh-”

“Hey hey, now.” your husband tuts against your ear, the damp metal of his ring cold when he swipes softly at your cheek - refusing, for even a moment, to take off that evidence of his pure devotion to you. “Keep those gorgeous eyes of yours open, my love. Just look-.”

Coaxing those cockdrunk eyes of yours open exactly the way he always did, Nanami only smiles when your kiss-bitten lips drop into a shocked oh!

Because fuck, it didn’t matter how many times you took him - Nanami was always so massive. So unapologetically obvious when he was inside you. Your puffy folds spread shamefully, that bulging divot of his fat head peeking out, showing you in real time exactly how harshly he was crashing against your g-spot. Bruising. Sloppy.

Over and over and-

“Takin’ me so hah- well.” You mewl at the never-ending gush of praises, every lingering thrust of Nanami’s hips increasing in pace. “Wish you could feel- how wet you are.” He’s sliding a palm down your water-slicked skin, cupping the mess made of your cunt. “-how tight. How-” Body convulsing when you feel Nanami’s wedding ring so chilly against the heated part of your clit. Being rubbed into it over and over when he’s rolling the pad of his thumb in slow, sleazy circles. “-perfect. How perfect you are f’me.”

“K-Ken-” you’re whining, and Nanami already knows what you’re about to say - of course, he does. Immediately pinning your two arms behind your back with one of his much bigger ones, holding you upright to fuck into your dripping cunt harsher. More calculated. “M’close- m’close m’so-”

“So cum f’me.” he hisses, letting your fingers dance up to tug and graze his undercut all you pleased. “Cum f’me like a good girl.”

You don’t even realize it when you do - too caught up with every crashing kiss against your bruised g-spot. Every spike of white-hot pleasure when Nanami’s massive cock massages your walls so right. Fucking you over and over through your high.

Until all you can do is scream out his name, until all you can do is kneel there and take it while he’s absolutely ravaging your cunt - no thoughts of whatever bad day at work on your mind now, only filled with Nanami and the need for more, more, more-

Until you’re turning to hum deviously, “Your turn.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - HOURS

Times like this, Geto Suguru loved to tease you, loved to push the limits and see exactly what would make that pretty lil’ mind of yours tick.

Times like now - when he had you laying so peacefully on top of him, your lolling head moving gently up and down with his heavy breathing, his legs dangling off the other end of the couch, eyes firmly trained on the shitty action movie playing on-screen.

It would be almost wholesome, if it wasn’t for-

“Sugu…”

Ah, there it was.

“Yes, gorgeous?” Geto tries to hold back that dark glint in his voice. A smirk curling the edges of his strained words when you clench your clingy walls around him as a sort of punishment, shifting desperately. “Don’t like the movie?”

You’re hissing out through firmly clenched teeth, tugging on his skin-tight shirt to get your beloved boyfriend’s attention - but, alas, it doesn’t work. “The movie’s not the problem-” And lo and behold, you’re fucking your trembly hips back so deep against where he’d buried himself inside you about half an hour ago. Ass shifting on top of his heavy balls, clit throbbing on top of those neat tufts of black, your familiar movements trying to get him to massage his fat, weepy veins against your sweet spots again. “-it’s your fuckin’-”

“Ah ah, language, my girl.” he’s whispering, still not sparing your cockdrunk self a glance. Despite the way his achy head nudges in desperation against the bullseye of your g-spot in a way he knows will have you keening. Leaky divot meeting your bundle of nerves making you go insane after cockwarming him for so long. “S’jus’ getting to the best part.”

Fuck, you didn’t care - didn’t even remember the name of the movie you two were watching at this point.

But what you did remember was the way this exact scenario played out last time - when Geto decided to really pull out and continue with the movie marathon as if nothing happened. Just the memory has your needy pussy twinging in annoyance, trying even harder to suck him up depravedly.

And yet, all you can manage out is a few grumbles about “getting him back soon” and forcing your eyes back on the screen. Only gives occasional nudges and grinds down to nestle him cozier against your plush walls.

And you succeed.

That is, almost.

Until it gets to that erotic scene. A hazy blinking up at Geto told you he already knew this would be in the movie, high cheekbones flushed, watching your every single reaction from the corner of his dark, dewy eyes.

You’re teetering precariously on top of him when his achy dick twitches even harder in interest. Your slick coming down in hot oozes that soak his entire bottom half. Glistening in the light of the tv and helping you slide your sloppy pussy across his fat length.

“Suguru…”

Full name? Damn, he was in some trouble.

But, like the absolute bully he is, Geto only lets out a low whistle. A large, soft palm coming down to knead at the fat of your ass, stretching and pulling to help you hump your pussy even deeper. “Some awful actin’, huh?” he grunts, eyes still locked on the movie. Hips stuttering up as if unconsciously - primally, “Bet we could do a whole lot better.”

But, two can play that game.

“We could.” you whine syrupy and pitched higher than normal with lust. “Such a hngh- shame, though, right?” And at his surprised look of confusion, you’re plowing on smugly, “Because you’re on a sex ban for the next month.”

The reaction is immediate - pained eyes snapping onto yours, his pretty pink lips dropping into a shocked oh! and Geto’s spouting out unabashed, “Awww, c’mon, gorgeous don’t be like that. Wasn’t serious, wasn’t—” Panic veiling his actions when you bluff moving to get off. Yet, he plays right into your hands, heavy fingers sitting you back down on his cock to meet in a shallow thrust, molding at your elastic walls. Claiming, “-as if I’d ever deny you, gorgeous.”

And you can’t get another word out before he’s steadily using all those hours at the gym to his advantage to bounce you along his lap in a steady fucking. Slamming right up to where your pussy lips smashed into his hip bone.

“You’re so weak, Sugu–”

Hell, so what if he was the one that broke first?

Oh, he can’t deny though, the way just how needy you were - how you were pouting up at him with those sultry, beautiful eyes of yours to “just fuck me right” - has him throbbing achingly inside your heavenly walls. Stretching out that gummy channel to its limits, until you could feel every ridge and curve along his massive length.

“Mhm, m’weak.” Geto rasps, arms tightening around your waist to hover your entire body up. “But- only for you- ngh, only for-” And he’s barely even stuttering his hypnotic cadence before spreading his legs firmer, moving his quick, bullying thrusts enlarging your filthy hole. Geto’s abs burning, thighs straining. “-you n’ this pretty cunt, y’know.” Like a - very overdue - little apology for toying with you so much, one of his deft hands dip down to roll and tweak your puffy clit between two slender fingers. Promising. Faster. Flashing a look in your eyes that told you he was about to make it so you couldn’t walk for a week, at least. “So you better not think of hah- something stupid like a sex ban.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - 13 min.

Choso couldn’t tear his greedy gaze away, couldn’t stop aching for more and more of that delicious stretch of your gummy walls around him. Feeling so lecherous with every beat of silence spent devouring the pretty sight of you.

The way you were splayed out like such a slut for him on your once-fresh satin sheets, bent into such a mean mating press he didn’t think himself capable of. Laying your boneless body out in that obscene pool of cum and slick, only spreading farther and farther with each twitch of his poor, overstimulated balls.

“Ch-Cho!” your honeyed, broken gasp him blinking back those big fat tears of sensitivity. And fuck he swears he could feel that lewd slosh of his seed coating against your gummy walls in a sticky sheen. “Cho, why are you- ngh! Getting hard again? It’s only been about ten minutes-”

That has him looking down in surprise, ravaged raw lips falling into a fucked-out oh! at that sight of your puffy folds being spread further and further with the way all the blood in his body was rushing to his achy cock. Bulging. Slobbering down your slit to coat him all glistening and ready to slide in again.

“One more. Had enough of waitin’ around.” Choso rasps, words slurring out so quiet that you almost think you imagined it. “O-one more time, baby–”

He’s leaving no room for you to answer - for you to even think, to breathe before giving your sopping wet cunt an experimental thrust. Dewy eyes falling half-lidded and dangerous when he watches the way his cum gushes down your thighs in warm dredges at the simple gesture.

“I thought-” your nails rake down his toned back to leave red, angry lines of pleasure. “I thought you said we were jus’ gonna hah- cockwarm right now, Cho? To make sure it takes?”

And it was true, he wanted to make sure you don’t waste a drop of his seed, to have you painted white with him for as long as he possibly could - well, maybe partially out of your boyfriend’s own perverted desire. But, really, what’s the harm in a little self-indulgence?

“Please! Please I know I know, baby.” he’s pleading. Ignoring the ringing in his ears, the dizziness in his vision to kiss the glossy pout of your candied lips so soothingly - missing, a few times with how utterly wrecked you had him. “But you can hngh- take one more, right? Just one more, f’me? Please?”

One more - he’s whispering out that little manta over and over with each gifting, filthy crash against your g-spot. Fat tip so soaked with all the mess of your juices that it slides a thorough line right across your bruised cervix. That makes you keen, it makes you cry, it makes you just arch your back off the mattress to push you even deeper down Choso’s swollen cock.

You mewl when he’s licking a long, languid stripe up the sultry teartracks down your cheeks, “Yes, but- but Cho you should rest-”

As if that would stop him - not when every shred of his sanity is dancing away from him to the smooth staccato of his rolling hips.

Choso hisses when his bruised lips are crashing against yours, entire body jolting because the sheer stimulation after only this long since cumming is driving him insane. Too much.

You buck your hips wildly when he’s angling his toned pelvis just right to smack that divot on his thick head onto your already-raw sensitive spots. Convulsing uncontrollably to let out a few wispy globs of cum that fill you up from the bottom of your pussy - an orgasm you don’t think Choso even realizes. “F-fuck- did you just-”

The pool grows even wider.

“Yes- no.” he gasps, before immediately reeling his hips back and forth again like a man starved. “Maybe. But one more- just one more, baby. Please.” Your sloppy make out is now tinged with the salty taste of tears - both yours and his. Because with each slow, cautious drag of his cock marking your elastic walls, a fresh wave of sensitivity hits him. “Please- wanna cum. Need to cum. Please please please one more- please.”

He didn’t know who he was begging at this point - you or him. Holding such a vice-like grip on the easy curve of your hips to keep you from running away while he fucks you into the mattress for the nth time tonight.

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck can feel you in so deep.” you murmur hazily, bringing a hand up to draw an invisible line around the middle of your stomach. “Can feel you right in here-”

“Oh yeah? That so?” he’s smirking uncharacteristically. “Soon ‘nough m’gonna have you hngh filled all the way up until-” He drags a thick, lazy index finger of his right up the sensitive bud of your clit. Up, up, up to wrap a large palm at your throat, “-here.”

And you can’t help but think he looks so pretty - so absolutely wrecked with his dark hair untied, sticking in stray strands to his forehead. Flushed to the absolute roots from the apples of his cheekbones, his droopy eyes. Biceps bulging out attractively when he squeezes around your racing pulse.

Somehow, you manage to choke out, “Do it then.”

That’s all it takes for your poor, absolutely ruined boyfriend to cum. Cumming and cumming so hard it was like he couldn’t stop - didn’t want to stop.

Greedy gaze falling shut so sensually when your gummy walls squeeze the soul out of him, drinking up every single rope after rope of his hot seed. Sticky, oozing globs that thin out into nothing but blanks - and he’s still fucking your heavenly cunt through his high.

Still in the throes of his orgasm when he whispers, “Baby- my baby, are we really sure it took?” Fingers squeezing tighter around your gasping throat, “Maybe we should try one more time.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Honestly? 1 hour 26 min.

“Hngh-” you’re hiccuping, the front of your drenched panties leaving a lewd smear of glossy slick all over Sukuna’s abs. Dragging out his name in such a honeyed, needy whine, “Sukuna—”

With a growl, he’s gripping a fistful of your ass, holding your squirming hips so flush against his toned pelvis that he could feel every minute quiver of your puffy pussy lips. Every new bead of your sweet sweet juices slobbering down his front and onto the sobbing cock stuffed still inside your gripping cunt, “What, woman?”

You’re gifting him with a pouty kiss, the kind he’d never admit makes his painfully tight balls squeeze in depravity, “Don’t hafta be so mean.”

“M’not.” he grumbles, and yet gifts the mound of your cunt with a sharp smack! of his large palm. Soothing over the burning brand, “S’jus’ that someone decided to- hngh-” Muscled pecs rumbling with the memory from just a few hours ago, “-make me miss my morning meeting by being such a slut, hm? Just crying to ‘feel, tha’s enough.’”

That work meeting was long done now, having finished about half an hour ago from what he could spy from that clock across your bedroom. Doesn’t matter, as CEO he could miss all the fucking meetings he wanted - having a softer spot for you than anyone, anything.

But that didn’t mean he’d stop teasing you - toying with you until you were begging for twice as long as that meeting was supposed to last.

“So, really-” his voice cuts through those needy little grinds of your hips. Mindless, slow - trying not to draw attention to yourself as you rocked yourself slowly up and down Sukuna’s fat hilt. Caught red-handed, it’s all you can do to squeal when he’s digging those long, black nails into your heated skin, holding you so agonizingly still. “-m’jus’ doing exactly what you asked, brat.”

The way you kick and wrangle your legs have him leering even wider, “What? Heh, got a problem with that?”

“Yes!” you’re keening, tightening your legs around his waist until you could feel the balls of your feet digging into the tiny dimples at the back of his spine. “Wan’ed you to ngh- fuck me- not- not-”

His tip is swiping across every inch of your sweet spot, pressing in so hard but doing nothing about it. Teasing you with such feral twitches against your tight channel, “You jus’ wanted me inside you n’ this cockwarming s’all you’re gonna get.”

“Please?”

This earns you another rough slap on your bulging pussy, the pads of Sukuna’s five fingers branding onto your stretched-out swollen folds. Lingering a bit too long around your neglected clit. Assessing.

And, suddenly, you know it means that smug façade of his is crumbling bit by bit - right along with his sanity. Gruffing out a ragged, “I said-”

And then you squeeze - oh, you’re clamping down your snug walls in such a way that has Sukuna cutting himself off with a throaty moan. The greedy gaze of his darkened red eyes flying open, head thrown back when his hips traitorously buck into you.

“Fuck- fuck, you little minx.” he spits into the soft kiss you’re planting on his lips. Glaring at you despite the way his weepy tip coats your cunt in an appreciative glossy sheen, “You think you’re sooo fuckin’ slick, huh? You think you hah- won this? M’still not movin’, woman.”

Batting your lashes up so deceivingly innocently, “I have no idea what you mean, Kuna–”

Shit, the syrupy sweet sound of that sinful nickname sends wracking shudders all down Sukuna’s hulking body. Biting his lower lip to hold back a raspy moan, “Don’t.”

You’re only pressing your bare chest against his even closer, draping yourself all over like a second skin. Blowing a feverish puff of hot air down his steadily reddening ears, “I have no-” Pressing a chaste peck right at his cheek, his forehead. “-idea-” On the edge of his pink locks - exactly where you knew he loved but would never ever tell you. “-what you mean-” Before finishing off with the final blow, to thumb open his angry mouth. Eyeing in amusement at how easily he’s letting his tongue loll out already - pussydrunk and all ready for you to spit a steady glob of saliva once. Twice. Wiping off those intentional splatters at the corner of those pretty pink lips, “-Kuna.”

“You’re gonna fuckin’ regret this.”

As if to prove his point, Sukuna is immediately pulling out - taking only a split second to flip you over to press your back against his broad chest. The bed creaks in protest as he sheaths himself inside your gooey cunt in one, harsh thrust.

All of it - making sure you swallow every thick inch by fucking inch of that same cock you’ve been begging for all morning. He doesn’t waste a second before spreading his knees to smack those sharp hip bones against yours again. Doesn’t even wait for you to adjust.

“You’re such a slut when you- hah- beg f’me, y’know that. Don’t know why you bother with that good girl act but-” Slap! For a moment, you wonder whether he smacked you - only to realize it’s the sheer power of his thrusts. Unforgiving, long drags in and out to fill you up in places you didn’t even know existed, bruising your flesh. “-at least I ngh- get to bring out the nasty bitch in you.”

Fucking you so relentles now. Your brain’s too fuzzy to even call him out on his little insult, managing out only choked up, “F-fuck you’re so- s’too good- Kuna.”

Those moans have him drunk, one set of thick fingers reeling you in by your pretty throat. So thankful he chose this position, because now he gets to fully let the ecstasy take over his face. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, face tinted a delicate pink, so fucking hot where he buries his face into the crook of your neck.

“J-just shut up and take it, brat.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - 2 min. (and 15 seconds!)

“F-fuck-” he breathes out unsteadily. Blue eyes falling shut as he throws his head back in pleasure, and his lips have that freshly-kissed look to them when he’s groaning. “Fuuuck, m’sorry m’sorry. You’re gonna be the hngh- fuckin’ death of me, sweetheart.”

Now, the great Gojo Satoru already had an inkling about this fact by the time you’d caught him rifling through that batch of chocolates you’d been saving up for a week. Brows furrowed, foot tapping in anger. Whoopsies.

And he already knew it’d be true when you’d shoved him down on the nearby couch and scolded him in that stern, sexy voice of yours that went straight to his aching dick. Toying with your glistening pussy while you straddled his toned lap, telling him to dare not move “or else.”

And fuck, he swear he saw the gates of heaven open up right then and there when you actually took him.

But shit, now, Gojo didn’t consider himself a weak man - far from it, actually, he was the strongest and he knew it. And yet he’s never felt so utterly fucking helpless with his throbbing cock enveloped deep in your cunt where he couldn’t see, freshly leaky, angry tip hitting down that familiar path to your g-spot. But staying there.

Unmoving.

So fucking agonizing that even you’re noticing the twitch of Gojo’s fingers on the plush of your hips, the way his jaw is clenching so tight. Raising an amused brow, “Toru?”

“Y-yes?” he yelps, voice a few octaves higher than normal. Jolting - and the movement is enough to cause a slight shift inside your dripping wet pussy. Tremors running down his spine at that sinful little taste of what he’s been craving so badly.

“Toru, you’re already such a mess.” you manage to giggle, purposefully grinding down in smooth gyrations that have his fat head drawing wet circles over and over around your sweet spots. “N’ I just put it in.”

“No!” Gojo’s whining hotly, big fat tears of sheer need pricking at his eyes. “No no no s’been more than long enough-” Gliding two large, pale hands to smooth over the globes of your ass, groping you to shove even more of his angry inches into your swallowing pussy. Ragged breaths coming out in gusts, “-please. Please.”

His words are breaking so sluttily at the end, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down his pale throat when he’s lifting his impatient hips off of the couch - once. Twice. Desperately searching for some friction.

“Satoru, if you can’t handle cockwarming for more than two minutes…”

“Please!” And he looks so pretty begging like this, gasping out wet pleas into your open mouth. “I’ve hah- l-learned my lesson, my girl. Don’t hold out on me now.” Powerful hips stuttering up like he was hesitant on pissing you off any more. “Said m’sorry- see?”

You whirling to look down at where Gojo was lolling his head down in such a pussydrunk way, only to be met with the lewd sight of your snug cunt being split apart by his massive cock. Glossy lips spread, bulging - struggling with the effort to accommodate his girthy, pulsing shaft. The stretch.

The sight is something that makes you squeeze your clingy walls to take the shape of him - so tight that Gojo swears he could feel his breath being cut off.

He hisses, words coming out so pained. Eyes half-lidded in wonderment at the way that tiny hole of yours gets stretched so obscenely around his thick hilt. “Ohh, fuck yeah. Thought you’d like that- yeah- yeah, just like that.” And you’re barely getting the chance to brace yourself before his hips are bucking up wildly. Like he was out of control - like he didn’t even know what he was doing right now. “S-sorry, said m’sorry. Fuck, m’sorry- sooo fuckin– sorry.”

Every breathy apology is punctuated by a heavy thrust, now fully forgetting that little punishment of his. IMean now. Pushing past that feeble resistance to fuck you all the way till you could feel that upwards curve of his dick branding against your cervix, your lungs. Over and over and-

“Hngh- ah, Toru!” you’re squealing when he dances a long hand down to rub over your pretty clit. Soft palms wet with a gloss of your slick with each tight circle. Again. And again and again and- “Y-you’re still not forgiven, y’know.”

It wasn’t very convincing - not when your greedy hips are limply bucking down to try and meet his rough cadence.

“I know.” he grits. “I know I know- fuck, I know.” Spitting straight into your sagging open mouth, he’s swiping at the lewd mess, “N’ I’ll buy ya more- buy ya the hngh- whole fuckin’ ch-chocolate store if you want.” Heavy balls smacking against your ass, pushing in powerful rams of his tip into your g-spot. Rambling drunkenly to himself now, “Just wanna- wanna-” Tears of sensitivity are streaming down his face now, as wet as the mess he was making of your poor pussy. And it takes only a few anticipated, purposeful thrusts before- “-cum.”

You barely have the time to even register those thick, hot globs f cum being stuffed into the very bottom of your pussy. Filling you up with Gojo’s sin when he’s throwing his head back to moan, hips bucking up, up, up to paint your deep core white.

“No no no no- no-” he’s babbling, still shooting up sticky streams of seed inside you. Fingers so erratic on your cunt now, Back arching up off the cushions to ram into you like some little ragdoll, from the very tip of his goading cock. “You have to cum- need you to cum, sweetheart.”

You’re just milking him, clinging onto him so tight it’s hard to crash his ruddied, sobbing tip even harder into your g-spot.

It’s almost like he’s forcing it out of you, wrenching out a hazy orgasm where you’re seeing stars behind your eyes. A loud whine of your boyfriend’s name leaving your swollen lips when he’s fucking you through peak after peak-

“Is this a good time to tell ya I ate those leftovers you were savin’ up, too, or do I hafta beg for forgiveness again?”

“...”

A/N. Listen, I know that Sukuna would be a TYRANT CEO but it’s for the aesthetic ok.

Plagiarism not authorized.

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tbaluver · 5 months ago

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AH-AH-APHRODISIAC?!- The Love And DeepSpace Men

pairings in order: xavier x fem! reader, zayne x fem! reader, rafayel x fem! reader, sylus x fem! reader, caleb x fem! reader summary: you and your lover accidentally eat chocolates with aphrodisiacs on valentine's day night tags: small plot, p in v , desperate hot n needy a/n: hihi my lovelies! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂)⸝♡ here are my (late) chocolate gift to you for valentine's day! this one is a lil rushed bc i wanted to have a fluff and a smut written for this holiday so apologies! thank you to my beta reader @ilovemitsuya mwah ily (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ anyways i hope you all enjoy reading ! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ cr. to the banners cafekitsune ! any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

He closes his eyes, parting his lips slightly as you gently place the chocolate in his mouth, watching him savor the taste as he guesses what flavor the luxury Valentine’s chocolate box. With each correct guess, a kiss is exchanged but whoever gets it wrong has to eat another chocolate that they didn’t like. As the game progresses, each sweet kiss becomes more lingering and more urgent. The box sat untouched and the game remained forgotten as you both have something better to eat in mind.

It’s hard to think about how much exactly chocolates you and Xavier ate when you he’s fucking into your swollen pussy. He groans, spreading your legs to expose your wet cunt, your inner thighs coated with his cum. Your clit glistening in the moonlight as he circles it softly with the sensitive head of his cock, dragging it up and down. It hasn’t even been a minute until your bodies are set ablaze again, growing intense with every passing second you two aren’t connected. You both were so needy for each other, your senses completely heightened than any time you two were intimate. His hot girthy dick stretches you out so deliciously that it's gonna leave an imprint on your stomach.

Both your bodies are on fire as he desperately thrusts in and out of you as hard and fast as he can, tangled limbs just holding on to whatever you can hold as long as you’re touching each other.

His cock, pistons in and out of your weeping cunt at a relentless pace, both your visions fogging up with no thoughts other than relieving each other. A chorus of obscene noises spill out of both of you, all of it incoherent. Remnants of his cum seeps out of you due to the pacing of his thrusts, your cunt mercilessly filled.

You’re clamping down on his cock with so much desperation as you feel your orgasm approaching. They way you’re creaming on his cock, clenching around him with trembling legs, was sight only he can see and hear. He planned to make you see the stars but he saw them shining in your eyes instead, the tears welling up your eyes as he sets the animalistic pace over and over again until the burning heat dies down between you both.

Zayne:

Valentine's day, the day where you exchange and share one or two or maybe the whole box of chocolates together. You and Zayne swapped a few sweets and chocolate gifts but on your end, you ended up letting him indulge in his sweet tooth, giving him more than just a couple boxes. Neither of you gave much thought to the luxury box cover when you picked it up. One by one, each chocolate disappears from the box as you pick one up, taking a bite as you pass him the other half as he does the same for you. It didn’t long for the sweetness of the chocolate to go away, the heat in each other’s bodies growing every second as you both craved for something much more sweeter, abandoning the box of chocolates.

Clearly one or five more rounds wasn’t enough for this burning ache to go away. Minutes turned into hours as he poured his cum into you, dripping down to his balls and down to your thighs. No amount of position could put an end to the heat that seemed to crawl deeper into your core every second he pulled away from you. Your body temperatures together were so high it turned you two into a muddled mess. How could he possibly ignore his lover sobbing for him, begging for more, when he needed you just as much as you needed him?

He hovers over you, trying his best not to crush you in his hold. The once composed and restrained doctor has vanished tonight, both your senses completely heightened as he desperately explores the familiar path of your body.

His delicate, practiced and precise hands from years of surgery, rip and tug at your clothing, the urgency from the heat building in him. Each one of Zayne’s and your clothing were carelessly thrown across the house, leaving a messy trail to your shared bedroom. Marks and scratches cover his body as you try to reach for more, as if the hold you had on him wasn’t enough.

Your lips constantly chase after each other, pulling away just to catch your breaths. He rolls his hips against yours, the room filled with the sounds of your combined moans and the rhythm of your entangled bodies. His cock makes you spill sounds that you didn’t even know could come out of your mouth. Chest pressed against each other, everything had your head spinning, both of you full of primal need. His cock strokes all the right places inside you, his heavy balls smacking wetly against your cunt with every deep thrust he gives you. His thick pink sensitive head of his cock rubs your sweet spot so perfectly, sending waves of pleasure over your body. Hours and hours with no other thoughts than anything other than making you feel good and making that heat go away was his only priority.

Rafayel:

He bought you the most expensive box of chocolates, not looking at the brand or the printing on the packages but because he saw it was filled with pictures of assortment of sweets you’d love. He thought they were overpriced because of the luxury design and the fact that it was for Valentine’s day but with each bite, he found himself caving in for more. You both felt so warm, the warmth surging through your bodies that traveled down to your lower half. The more you both indulged, the more you both seemed to need something that was a much more sweet temptation.

You both were so hot, more than you two have ever been that the heat was enough to stop the cold weather from making you shiver. His eyes clenched shut as hot pants slip past his pretty lips, his mind fogging up as he feels your warm cunt wrap around him so perfectly, like always.

The only thing in his mind is you, your sweet cunt squeezing his cock like heaven sent and how you roll your hips against him oh so right.

He thinks you’re truly a work of art, filled with marks of him. You look so perfect whether it’s in front of him or behind him, painting such a pretty picture with your face in all the right angles as your face contorted in absolute pleasure.

You both roll and shift on the blanket, finding the perfect position that hits the right angles to relieve the throbbing heat between your legs. Everytime you take his buckets of his white warm seed, the burning ache always seems to come back. There is not a single part of your body that isn’t drenched from your mixed sweat, arousal or his cum.

Did someone bewitch you two? Did they think- Nevermind, he can’t think properly when you’re clenching down on him like this. He feels the way you flutter around him. Every squeeze of your cunt as he drags his cock along your walls, every drip of your arousal that coats his length, is as if he was truly part of you.

His skin tingles irritably, aching desperately for your touch even after a second without it. Even the small sounds that escape past your lips lure him in like a sailor listening to a siren's song. His thrusts grow faster, his hips slamming over and over again against yours as if his life duty was to repopulate Lemuria.

Sylus:

The night grew uncomfortably hot for you two, the ache between your legs was relentless and impossible to ignore. The cold breeze from the new city you two traveled too for a small getaway was not helping at all. You two didn’t drink much but the chocolates you were both gifted, disappeared between you both. Each bite melted in your mouths but soon the warmth settled over you both. The anticipation back to the suite was palpable, both of you greeted by a romantic rose trail scattered across the floor that led to a heart-shaped arrangement on the shared bed. As much as you wanted to appreciate this, you both seek- craved a remedy only you two could provide each other.

It didn’t take that long for that rose petal trail to be forgotten, scattered and kicked aside as you both stumble towards the bed, your lips hungrily chase after each other. Needy hands rip each other’s clothes off while your blazing bodies smash against each other, the rose petals jump off the bed once it feels the weight shift of you two fall onto it. He groans into your lips, pulling away to leave a wet trail down your neck, collecting the expensive perfume he’s gotten you on his tongue.

Sylus loves to take it slow with you, his favorite thing to do is explore your body as if he hasn’t before. But tonight, tonight his movements are rushed, desperate to see you, to feel you. Pure love still in his eyes, needy hands never really able to linger on spot for too long. No other thoughts but just you and how his body craves more and more.

The tip of his cock pushes his hot sticky mess back into your sopping cunt, groans escaping past his lips. Your walls were so sweet, so velvety, so intoxicating that the thought of those chocolates has given him an addiction from how much he can’t seem to pull away from you, brushes away from his mind.. How overpowering his deep thrusts would be, not caring at all if this bed broke or how the building shook.

His thick cock engulfed into the warmth of your clenching walls, his large hands intertwined with yours as he swallows all the sweet and pretty sounds that escape past your lips with the shove of his tongue, taking him deeper than you possibly could. His balls ram into your remorselessly, placing hot wet kisses down your neck. Your words are jumbled due to his cock pumping and out of you relentlessly from your heat as if it were to split you in half.

Your orgasm hits you hard, his following right after. His face contorts into pure pleasure, one of the best images to grace your eyes and ears as you breathlessly chant his name. While you take your time catching your breath, he’d let his fingertips graze your arm, hand cupping the side of your face while his thumb rubs along your cheek, feeling his dick twitch inside you again.

Caleb:

Dinner was going by smoothly, key word was, until something shifted in both your bodies. The special Valentine’s Day meal he prepared for you was devoured, your bright smile whenever you bit into the food was proof enough that each bite hit the spot. Until you both got to the desert, the chocolate covered strawberries recipe he found online he rushed while prepping dinner. A few bites in, the room seemed to grow hotter, your appetites shifting and craved something much more enticing.

He’s already a whimpering mess once you pull away from his lips, feeling like the distance between you two were a million miles apart. The touch of your needy hands to try and rip his clothes off was painfully slow. He needed more and he knew you did too.

What was in that recipe? How much did he eat? His dick is so hard he thinks it might just explode before he even has a chance to feel your soaked walls. His desperation was so palpable that his needy whines ring in your ear as he slips it in, ripping off your panties beforehand while babbling ‘sorry sorry need you please please’ and that he’ll promise to get you new ones next time. You barely catch any of his words, your mind fogging with each drag of his cock against your sweet spot. Breathless praises for you slip past his lips, fanning your ear with his warm breath, making your velvety walls flutter and tighten around him in response.

His hips increase in speed and power, his name breathlessly escaping your lips as he knocks the air out of your lungs. His cock rubbed your walls so deliciously, making you forget the heat for a second, just for a second.

Spurts of his hot white cum into your body was not enough to please the ache in your bodies. Caleb only whines your name, pounding into your poor pussy with a merciless pace. He feels so guilty knowing he takes his time, he always takes his time with you but he’s chasing a high so desperately that his body is on autopilot, moaning pathetically into your ears. The sounds of wet skin and skin fill the kitchen for hours and hours, the special dinner he planned in mind growing cold but the one he held in his embrace growing hotter by the minute.

a/n extra: hihi again! here is my fluff valentines day headcanons and kinda where the scene in the story takes place: Valentine's Day

my past works: masterlist pg. 1 , pg. 2

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swearimnevergivingup · 7 months ago

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so uh i'm thinking about ex-boyfriend!nanami. you broke up with him 3 years ago but he's never been able to move on. he's tried everything. everything under the sun, and none of it has ever worked.

he isn't even sure if forgetting you is what he wants. he thinks he wants to let you live in the spot carved out for you in his heart, whether that hurts him or not.

and when you run into him in the lobby of your apartment building? one thing leads to another and you find yourself splayed out on the couch obscenely, the oversized shirt you were wearing hiked up to your waist as you slowly part your legs for him.

the world blurs around you.

all you can think about is this very moment.

the significance of what you’re doing is entirely palpable to you. you’re inviting him in, not just to your house, but into your heart again.

breathing heavily, your eyes follow his every movement in anticipation as his fingers dance across your inner thighs.

his hands slip underneath the waistband of your panties, two fingers sliding in between your slick folds. you tense a little at the sensation as he parts them, the rough pads of his fingers prodding the sensitive bud of nerves that makes you shiver and whine.

“god,” he groans. “i’ve fucking missed this pussy.”

you let out a little laugh at the foul language that slips from his tongue. it’s been so long since you’ve heard his voice, and even longer since you’ve felt his touch.

“missed your cock too, kento,” you murmur, eager to show that you’ve been equally longing for him, if not more. you want to hear more of him, so you reach your hand out to palm at his erection. he’s rock hard, and there’s a little wet spot on his pants from the precum.

“fuck,” he mutters, tilting his head back. “it’s been a while.”

you giggle at that, a little woozy from the wine. “it’s been a while for me too.”

“n-no, you don’t understand,” his grip on your hips tightens as he struggles to maintain his composure. “you were the last.”

oh.

your eyes widen at that revelation, stopping your movements to fully look at him. “w-why haven’t you—”

for the second time tonight, you find yourself in complete disbelief. you were the last person he slept with? that had been more than 2 years ago - way more than enough time for things to change, for someone else to come along.

but then again, nanami’s always been a serious man, and by extension, that applied to his love life too. never one to seek out casual hookups, that man dated to marry.

“i didn’t want anyone else. only you,” he murmurs. “that hasn’t changed.”

your heart is not the only thing that clenches at the raw sincerity in his voice.

“say it again,” you whisper. “i want— i want to hear you say it again.”

“i only want you.” nanami must have realised how much you needed to hear that, the same way he had needed your confirmation earlier, because his voice is more resolute this time. “and this—” his hand moves to cup yours, guiding your movements as he slowly drags your hand over his cock. “s’all for you, sweetheart.”

one hand reaches for the back of your neck, holding you tenderly as he peppers kisses on your lips and all over your neck.

the other hand, though, moves deviously between your thighs, a singular digit plunging into your soaked cunt.

nanami relishes the way you gasp into his mouth, back arching off the couch as all sorts of pretty sounds drip from your flushed lips.

i love you.

i still love you, after all this time.

he doesn’t say it out loud - no, it isn’t the right time.

but he repeats it loudly enough inside his head, hoping that somehow, you might hear it too.

a/n: this is part of my upcoming work: i never moved from where you left me (nsfw)

there are apologies to be made, lost time to reclaim, and parts of each other waiting to be rediscovered. and yet, you know him like an old song. you know the words, carved into the lining of your skin, you know its melody, a soft hum that echoes in the chambers of your heart. nanami kento is that lingering rhythm, that pained harmony, existing deep within the cracks of memory and longing - an unfading symphony in your soul.

comment if you would like to be tagged! <3

edit: some snippets here! taglist closed :)

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neil-gaiman · 1 year ago

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Hello, I saw your article entitled "WHY DEFEND FREEDOM OF ICKY SPEECH?" And I'd like to ask... Are you normalizing lolicon now? It's not just a made-up story where there's inappropriate content with children, where it's portrayed as something terrible. It's portrayed as something normal and sexy😦

This article?

As I point out in the article, I'd not actually read any lolicon, and 16 years later, I still haven't. As I say in it:

Still, you seem to want lolicon banned, and people prosecuted for owning it, and I don't. You ask, What makes it worth defending? and the only answer I can give is this: Freedom to write, freedom to read, freedom to own material that you believe is worth defending means you're going to have to stand up for stuff you don't believe is worth defending, even stuff you find actively distasteful, because laws are big blunt instruments that do not differentiate between what you like and what you don't, because prosecutors are humans and bear grudges and fight for re-election, because one person's obscenity is another person's art.

Because if you don't stand up for the stuff you don't like, when they come for the stuff you do like, you've already lost.

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societyfolklore · 3 months ago

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Until I’m Full, You Stay

Title: Until I’m Full, You Stay

Pairing: Thor x Asgardian!Female Reader

Summary: The golden halls of Asgard echo with drunken songs and overflowing goblets. Their future king reclines at the head of the feasting table- sated with victory, indulgent with wine… and utterly buried inside you.

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: / Explicit Content /18+, Minors DNI, Cockwarming, Public sex, risk of discovery, power imbalance, Size kink, mention of overstimulation, Thor being a tease, Loki being very aware, Dirty talk, pet names, light humiliation.

A/N: my entry for @avengers-assemble-bingo for April Kinky Bingo Square: B3- Cockwarming Card Number: KB003 The golden halls of Asgard roared with celebration.

Gleaming goblets clinked, the scent of roasted meats and sweet wines thick in the air. Music swelled beneath the vaulted ceiling, echoing with the drunken songs of warriors. Odin and Frigga, ever dignified, had long since retired, leaving their sons to reign over the revelry- Thor's clothes rumpled from combat and wine, his tunic askew, and a smirk that promised indulgence.

Thor lounged at the head of the long feasting table, legs spread wide, his tunic open just enough to expose the swell of his chest. His palm rested low on your back, guiding you with gentle insistence. The revelers barely noticed- their future king, their hero, just victorious in battle, seated like any other warrior at the head of the table. No one questioned it when you settled into his lap, cloaked in the haze of wine and celebration.

But only you felt it- his cock, thick and half-hard beneath the ceremonial robes, pressing up against you.

He nudged you forward, guiding you subtly with one hand at your lower back until you sat perched on his knees. Your body shielded his movements. You barely registered the soft shift in fabric until you felt him- hard and proud- being pulled free beneath the table.

Then, he leaned in, lips brushing the shell of your ear, voice like honey poured over hot coals.

"Sit on it, little one. You’ll stay there until I’m finished eating."

"Yes, my lord," you whispered, barely audible, your breath trembling as you obeyed.

Thor's hands gripped your hips, lifting you with effortless strength until the blunt head of his cock pressed against your entrance. Your breath stuttered as he held you there, poised- teasing- before easing you down, slow and merciless.

The stretch was immediate. Obscene.

He split you open inch by inch, your slick walls forced to accommodate his sheer size. Your gown draped elegantly around you, concealing nothing of the way your thighs shook, how your belly tensed. A soft, broken sound caught in your throat as the head pushed past your entrance, and then more- thicker, hotter- until you were nearly seated.

Each breath came shorter, sharper, as your body clenched around him, fluttering helplessly.

By the time he bottomed out, buried to the hilt, your pulse was roaring in your ears. You were so full it felt like he had stolen the air from your lungs.

And still, he held you there- deep and unyielding.

You couldn’t take a full breath. Not without clenching.

Not without whining.

Thor feigned indifference, plucking a fig with lazy precision in one hand, then drawing the stem across your collarbone before setting it down to reach for a goblet of wine. The other hand remained at your waist, anchoring you with quiet authority, his touch steady and grounding. He leaned in slightly, brushing your hair away from your neck, hooking it behind your ear with a tenderness that made your stomach twist. As your back settled against his chest, his lips grazed the shell of your ear again.

"You’re squeezing me like you want everyone to know," he murmured, low and filthy.

"My ah-apologies... I c-can’t help it," you breathed, your voice barely audible, ragged from restraint.

Thor’s lips brushed your temple, deceptively tender as his words curved darker.

"I think it might serve you better to stay silent, my treasure," he said low enough only you could hear, the possessiveness in his tone wrapping around you like iron. "Your voice gives you away- and I quite like keeping you to myself." He took a long drink, before he plucked another honeyed fig from the silver tray beside him, and smiled.

"Open," he murmured.

You parted your lips, cheeks flushed. He pressed the fruit in, slow, and then offered his fingers- slick and glistening. You sucked them clean, obedient and dazed, your eyes fluttering shut as he rumbled his approval.

The minutes passed in a blur of overstimulation. Every twitch of his thigh beneath you sent aftershocks of pleasure up your spine. He filled you so completely it felt like he was pressed into your very stomach, stretching you in ways that defied reason. The heaviness of him pulsed inside you, a constant presence you could neither ignore nor endure.

Occasionally, Thor rocked his hips ever so slightly- just enough to feel the ripple it caused through your body. Just enough to make your hand fly to his forearm and squeeze. It earned you a quiet chuckle, his mouth full of roasted meat as though nothing were amiss.

When the musicians struck up a rowdy chorus, he tapped his heel in time beneath the table. The subtle bounce of his leg jostled you, made you sink down that impossible inch deeper with every beat. Each bounce, each movement, sent you careening toward the edge again. It was all so much.

Every shift made you swear it was harder not to whine or moan.

The court roared with laughter and slurred songs, but you could barely hear it over the thunder of your heartbeat. You sat perfectly still, trembling, your fingers curled into the folds of his robe.

Then-

Boots scuffed against the stone floor as someone returned to the head table. From the corner of your eye, you spotted Loki, tousled and far too smug. His green and gold tunic was half-laced, his hair disheveled in the way it only got when he'd had company.

He sauntered to his seat with lazy grace, goblet already in hand, and collapsed into his chair with a satisfied sigh.

"I do hope the food hasn't gone cold," he drawled, eyes glittering as he glanced up- right at you.

Thor didn’t flinch.

He leaned back in his seat, sated by war, wine, and the warm, trembling cunt squeezing around him. You weren’t fast enough this time- your moan slipped out, soft and breathless, before you could catch it.

"Quiet now," Thor's voice came through a playful warning. "Or I’ll take you properly, right here at the table."

Loki tilted his head, swirling his drink thoughtfully before smirking over the rim of his goblet, his eyes taking in your current state.

"Careful, brother. Keep this game up and you'll break your little darling right here in front of us all," he drawled though only loud enough to reach Thor's ears- and yours.

You swallowed hard, choking down the soft gasp that threatened to rise. Your teeth sank into your lip, biting the tender flesh hard enough to bruise. Thor let out a low, amused bark of laughter, his chest rumbling against your back.

"But she warms me so sweetly, brother," he replied, his tone indulgent. "Would you fault a king for keeping his throne just so?"

Loki gave a lazy shrug, his gaze never leaving your flushed face. "Not at all. Only wondering how long she can keep from crying out. Her eyes are already starting to roll back," he said with a smirk that bordered on wicked delight. "One more little nudge and I daresay she'll melt in your lap."

You squeezed your eyes shut, trembling, humiliation blooming beneath the heat of it all. Every inch of you ached, stretched taut and throbbing, your own body a betrayer to your dignity. You gave a quiet shudder, wriggling subtly on his lap in a futile attempt to ease the ache your lover was causing in your cunt- only to make things worse. The motion sent him grinding deeper, pressing against that unbearable sweet spot, and your breath hitched hard.

"Still so needy? I thought I told you to behave tonight," he murmured against your ear, the heat of his breath fanning across your cheek. His voice had dropped lower now, dark and smooth, curling down your spine like velvet-wrapped steel. The weight of it made your thighs tense, your heart pound, and your breath stutter in your throat. Still, you whimpered- just a little- in answer, shame and pleasure warring as your fingers squeezed his forearm.

He hummed around a mouthful of food, not even pausing as his grip anchored you.

Your head dropped forward, forehead nearly touching the table, your body spasming quietly around him.

"Now, now." Thor pulled you back up against his chest. "Told you, keep fluttering like that and I’ll make a show of you, sweetling."

His hand slipped beneath the fabric of your gown. Calloused fingers trailed slowly between your thighs, and then- his thumb found your pulsing clit.

The blonde rubbed slow, lazy circles, as if he had all the time in the world. As if no one was watching. As if you weren’t already breaking apart from just the stretch of him alone. Your thighs trembled, your breath hitching in your throat as Thor continued to converse with Loki like you weren’t there at all.

"You spoil her," Loki commented dryly, raising his brows. "A whole feast laid before you and still you gorge yourself on her."

"She is my favorite dish," Thor said with a grin, taking another bite of meat.

Then-

He shifted beneath you, his arm coiling tightly around your waist as he rocked his hips up once, slow and deliberate. His cock dragged along that devastatingly sensitive spot high inside you, the one that made your toes curl and stars burst behind your eyelids. The blunt head of him kissed it directly, and the jolt of pleasure it sent through your body.

That was all it took.

You came- silently, pathetically, squirming against his massive frame as he kept you still. Your inner muscles fluttered helplessly, spasming around his cock, your body no longer able to obey your will. Your fingers dug into the meat of his forearm where it wrapped around your waist, the only anchor you had in the torrent crashing through you. One hand slipped to grip the edge of the chair, nails biting into the carved wood as you trembled through the waves of release. Tears prickled in your lashes from the overwhelming sensation, from the ache that never faded.

Your head dropped back to his shoulder, your cheek turning to bury itself in the crook of his neck, where his skin was warm and smelled faintly of spice and smoke. You struggled to catch your breath, your entire body still trembling.

"Couldn’t wait, could you?"

He simply shook his head, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement as his fingers lifted to stroke the column of your neck. The gesture was deceptively tender, grounding, as though he hadn’t just undone you in full view of a feasting hall. Then he took another sip of wine, resuming his meal like nothing had happened.

Like he wasn't still buried deep inside you, thick and pulsing, as if he hadn't just pulled you apart without ever thrusting.

Loki huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he raised his goblet.

"And they call me the cruel one," Loki muttered, the curl of his lips turning dark as he took a long sip of wine. His gaze drifted to the visible tremble still rippling through your limbs.

Thor gave your thigh a possessive squeeze before lifting his goblet again. You sat up, just enough to accept the offering as he guided it to your lips. You drank obediently.

"Drink, sweetling," he murmured, his tone like warm smoke. "Not cruel to you, am I?"

You shook your head, unable to form words, your body still fluttering helplessly around him. You were a mess- wrecked and shaking- but no more than many others scattered across the feast. Still, none of them knew what it meant to be Thor’s. Not like this.

"Said you'd break her, didn’t I?" Loki added with a dry smile, swirling his cup lazily before taking another sip.

Thor hummed in amusement, lips brushing your temple as he smoothed your hair back once more. "You worry for nothing, brother. She’ll last many an hour." That idea alone made your body seize up again, your muscles fluttering helplessly around him. Hours? The word echoed in your skull like a drumbeat- part thrill, part dread. You weren’t sure if you could endure minutes more, let alone hours. And yet, some wicked part of you clenched tighter at the thought, your body aching for what it couldn’t handle. Your eyes fluttered closed, the thought both terrifying and electrifying.

Thor’s hand returned to your hip, firm and steady. He gave one last, deliberate roll of his hips, a subtle warning of what was to come- later, when the hall quieted and no eyes lingered. You bit your lip, barely swallowing the sound that rose in your throat.

He smiled, pleased.

“Now remember- be still,” he murmured, voice thick with promise. “The night’s only just begun.”

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aliyahwritings · 8 months ago

Text

THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST

Summary: Coming back from a theater night with your friends only made Rafe hornier for some reason

Warnings: smut, eating out, fingering, p in v.

Word Count: 3.3k

Aliyah's Notes: this is kind of all over the place but wtv. it's a cute little extra that i thought was fun

You: "Where the fuck are you?" You: "This is why you’ve never had a girlfriend." You: "I hope you guys tripped and fell into a river." You: "I’m serious, Rafe. Are you okay? I’m starting to worry."

You stood outside the cinema with Kiara and Sarah, arms crossed as the chilly New York breeze bit at your skin. Despite the gray hoodie you’d stolen from Rafe draped over your white crop top, you still felt cold, silently cursing Sarah for convincing you to wear such a thin outfit. Sure, it looked great, but it definitely wasn’t warm enough for a night like this.

The three of you had been waiting for what felt like forever while the guys—Rafe, JJ, and John B—vanished into the snack counter abyss. You hadn’t even decided on a movie yet, and deep down, you knew that when Rafe showed up, a heated argument about which movie to watch was inevitable.

It was almost tradition at this point: the two of you bickering over the movie choice while everyone else groaned in frustration. But like always, you were confident you’d win. You always did. Rafe would put up a fight for the sake of it, but in the end, he’d cave, and you’d get your way.

Kiara sighed loudly, tugging you out of your thoughts. "What’s taking them so long? Are they buying snacks or building them from scratch?"

“With the time they’re taking, I’m starting to think they’ve decided to move in back there," you muttered, shoving your hands into the hoodie pockets.

Kiara snorted, throwing her hands in the air. “Seriously, what’s their deal? Did they forget we exist?”

“Knowing JJ and John B? Probably. They’re probably debating over candy, and Rafe’s just stuck there, pretending to care," Sarah chimed in, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“And he’ll come out looking all innocent,” you added, smirking. “Like, ‘What? It wasn’t me.’”

Kiara grinned, brushing her hair out of her face. “Meanwhile, JJ’s going to show up with enough snacks to feed a small country.”

Sarah laughed. “Honestly, we should’ve started a timer on them. This is ridiculous.”

"Or a betting pool," Kiara added with a mischievous glint.

You chuckled, glancing at the glowing movie posters plastered on the walls. Your gaze lingered on the title of the movie you’d been determined to watch all week. It was calling your name, and nothing—not even Rafe’s inevitable stubbornness—was going to stop you from seeing it tonight.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the guys emerged, balancing an obscene amount of snacks between them. JJ led the charge with a sheepish grin, precariously balancing a tray stacked with popcorn, nachos, and candy.

“We’re back, ladies!” JJ called, panting as he reached you. He flashed Kiara a grin and casually slung an arm around her shoulder. “Took a little longer than expected.”

Sarah raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “A little? We were about to send a search party.”

JJ waved her off, popping a kernel of popcorn into his mouth. “You just don’t appreciate the art of snack selection. It’s a process, Sarah. You can’t rush greatness.”

“Greatness, huh?” Kiara deadpanned, staring at the tray in his hands.

“Absolutely.” JJ puffed out his chest but immediately backed down at Kiara’s withering look.

As John B mumbled an apology and tried to lighten the mood, Rafe sauntered up, his gaze locked on you. His blue eyes seemed to search yours, scanning your face for any sign of annoyance—or maybe forgiveness. Without a word, he slid his arm around your waist, pulling you close in one smooth motion.

"Are you mad?" he asked quietly, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

You tilted your head, pretending to think. "Hmm, let me see... You disappeared for ages, left me out here in the freezing cold, and probably picked the most ridiculous snacks. What do you think?"

Rafe's lips twitched, fighting a smirk. "So... that's a yes?"

"Obviously,” you crossed your arms, feigning a pout, though the warmth of his arm around your waist made it hard to stay committed to the act.

“C’mon, baby, it wasn’t that bad,” he teased, leaning closer. “You had Sarah and Kie to keep you company. I bet they were super entertaining.”

“Much better company than you,” you sassed, though the corner of your mouth twitched in betrayal.

Rafe’s smirk grew, and he leaned in even closer, so close you could feel his breath fan against your cheek. “How about I make it up to you?”

You quirked an eyebrow, your heart skipping a beat despite yourself. “Oh? And how exactly are you planning to do that?”

“I’ll let you pick the movie,” he said, as if it was a monumental sacrifice.

You blinked, staring at him. “You were going to let me pick the movie anyway.”

“Yeah, but now I’m offering,” he countered, his grin widening.

Kiara’s voice broke through the moment, her tone dripping with mock exasperation. “God, will you two just kiss already so we can pick a seat? It’s freezing out here.”

Sarah snorted. “Seriously, you guys are worse than an old married couple.”

Your cheeks burned, but before you could respond, Rafe turned his head toward the girls, his expression smug. “Jealous much?”

“Of what? Your inability to tell time?” Kiara shot back, unimpressed.

Rafe chuckled, then turned back to you, ignoring their comments. “So, are we good?”

You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your smile. “Fine. But you’re holding all the snacks, Cameron.”

“Deal.” He winked, stealing a quick kiss on your temple.

As the credits rolled and the theater lights slowly came on, you stretched your arms above your head, trying to shake off the stiffness from sitting for two hours. The group shuffled out of their seats, JJ loudly debating with John B about the "most iconic moment" in the movie while Sarah and Kiara chimed in with their own opinions.

You weren’t paying much attention, though. Your focus was on Rafe, who’d been surprisingly quiet during the movie, his hand casually resting on your thigh for most of it. Every now and then, you’d caught him glancing at you instead of the screen, though he played it off whenever you turned to meet his gaze.

The cool night air greeted you as you stepped out of the theater, the city alive with its usual buzz. You pulled Rafe’s hoodie tighter around you, already feeling the chill sink in.

“You cold?” Rafe asked, stepping closer.

“A little,” you admitted, rubbing your hands together for warmth.

Without another word, he slid his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. The gesture was so natural, so un-Rafe in its quiet thoughtfulness, that you almost didn’t know how to react.

“You’re lucky I let you pick the movie,” he teased, his voice low and warm against your ear.

“You didn’t let me do anything,” you countered, glancing up at him. “I just won, like I always do.”

“Debatable,” he shot back, though his grin betrayed his amusement.

The group paused near the sidewalk, debating where to go next. JJ was rallying for a late-night diner run, while Sarah and Kiara wanted to head home. You stood back with Rafe, content to let them figure it out.

Rafe nudged you lightly. “What’d you think of the movie?”

You smirked. “I loved it, obviously. It’s called having good taste. You should try it sometime.”

“Careful,” he warned, his tone playful. “Or I might change my mind about letting you pick next time.”

“Yeah, right,” you scoffed. “We both know you’ll cave again.”

Rafe stared at you for a moment, his smirk softening into something gentler. His arm slipped from your shoulders, and before you could protest, he reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“Okay, I’ll admit it,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You were right. It was a good pick.”

You blinked up at him, caught off guard by the sudden sincerity. “Is this your way of saying I have good taste?”

“Don’t push it,” he said, though his grin gave him away.

Before you could respond, JJ called out, breaking the moment. “Ayo, Rafe! Quit making googly eyes with your wife and help me convince them to hit the diner!”

Rafe groaned, rolling his eyes. “This guy…”

You laughed, tugging on his hand. “C’mon, we should at least hear him out. You do owe me for taking so long earlier.”

His eyes lit up. “You’re not letting that go, are you?”

“Never,” you said with a grin, leading him toward the group.

As the group finally parted ways—JJ still grumbling about the lack of a diner stop—you and Rafe headed back to his car. The ride was quiet, the city lights casting soft glows through the windows as the hum of the engine filled the space.

Rafe rested one hand on the steering wheel, his other hand perched casually on your thigh, a touch he hadn’t bothered to remove since the movie started. You glanced at him, his profile sharp under the streetlights, and felt your thighs rub against each other. You hated how effortlessly sexy he looked, even when he was doing something as mundane as driving.

When he pulled into the parking garage of his building, you expected him to make a teasing comment about how you’d owe him for letting you win the movie argument. Instead, he turned off the engine, sat back, and looked at you, his blue eyes flickering with something unreadable.

“What?” you asked, feigning nonchalance, though your voice betrayed the way your heart had started to race.

“Nothing,” he said, though the way his lips curled into a slow, dangerous smirk told a different story. “Just thinking about how much I want to fuck you right now.”

Your breath hitched, but you rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool. “Is that your way of saying you’re admitting defeat? Again?”

“Defeat?” he repeated, his voice dropping an octave as he leaned closer, his hand still warm and steady on your thigh. “Baby, you have no idea who’s about to win.”

Before you could reply, he closed the distance, his lips crashing onto yours with a mix of urgency and purpose. His hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping against yours in a way that made your head spin.

You barely registered the sound of the car door closing behind you or the way he guided you toward the elevator, his lips never leaving yours. By the time the elevator doors slid open to his penthouse, you were breathless, his hands gripping your waist as he walked you backward into the living room.

“Rafe,” you murmured against his lips, your fingers tangling in his hair.

“What, baby?” he hummed, his lips moving to trail kisses along your jawline and down your neck.

“We—” Your words dissolved into a gasp as he nipped at the sensitive spot just below your ear. “We’re home,” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Exactly,” he muttered against your skin, his hands sliding down to grip your hips and pull you flush against him. “And no one’s here to interrupt us.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but Rafe silenced you with another searing kiss, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of the hoodie you were wearing—his hoodie. The warmth of his touch against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, and any coherent thought you had vanished entirely.

His hands on your body were all you were thinking about. It was so addictive.

He was laying you down on the couch, taking your—his—hoodie off your body, then your crop-top. “You’re so fucking pretty. My wife,” his thumb ran over your hard nipples as he rapidly took your black bra off, throwing it god-knows-where in the living room. “Mine to fuck,” he bit down on your nipple. “Mine to ruin.”

His hand slid lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your pants, fingertips teasing the edge of your soaked panties. A shiver raced through you as his touch lingered, deliberate and torturously slow. By now, you couldn’t bring yourself to care how desperate, how utterly undone you sounded. Each broken moan and shaky breath betrayed how much you craved him, how badly you needed him. Nothing else mattered but this moment.

“Please, Rafe… please…”

“What, baby? What do you want?

Before you could even muster a response, his hand was already slipping beneath your panties. His fingers found your sensitive bud effortlessly, stroking it with deliberate, teasing motions that sent jolts of pleasure coursing through you. A soft moan escaped your lips, your body instinctively arching into his touch as if it was second nature—a dance the two of you had performed countless times before.

He watched you intently, his eyes dark and smoldering, drinking in every gasp, every shiver you gave him. Slowly, he brought his glistening fingers to his lips, tasting you with a deliberate flick of his tongue.

“Fuck! I could taste you for a thousand years and still be so obsessed after all those years,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, his gaze never leaving yours as he savored every bit of you like it was a privilege. “You got no idea how fucking obsessed I am with you, baby.”

He didn’t waste a single moment, his hands working to tug your pants down before tearing through the delicate lace of your panties with a sharp rip.

“Rafe!” you exclaimed, a mix of frustration and disbelief in your tone. “Those were expensive!”

He only smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief as he let the ruined fabric fall to the floor. “I’ll buy you a dozen more,” he promised, his voice dark and dripping with desire.

Without hesitation, Rafe’s tongue found your swollen folds, his movements deliberate yet desperate, as if savoring every tremor of your oversensitive body. The sharp gasp that escaped your lips was like music to him, fueling his obsession with every intoxicating second of pleasuring you.

“God, Rafe!” you cried out, your voice trembling as the tension inside you threatened to snap. “I-I’m so close… gonna explode!”

He groaned against you, the sound vibrating through your core as his tongue flattened, dragging languidly across your slick heat. His rhythm was unhurried, teasing yet relentless, each stroke chasing away the weight of the outside world, grounding him in this moment with you. “You taste so good, babe,” he murmured, his lips brushing your sensitive skin.

“You like that, huh?” he rasped, his voice heavy with need as he nipped at you softly, savoring your helpless writhing. “You like riding my face, don’t you, sweetheart? Taking what you need like this?”

Your hips bucked involuntarily, and a broken moan escaped you. “Y-yes! Fuck, yes!”

A dark chuckle rumbled in his chest as he held you tighter, his grip possessive. “This is all I could think of while we were watching the movie,” his hand tracing a path down your chest, he brushed over your nipples, a deliberate pinch causing a sharp gasp to escape you. “The sound of your moans, the way your pussy tastes, imagining myself between your legs... I couldn't stop thinking about it.”

Your body was writhing beneath him, every subtle arch and tremble betraying just how close you were. The way your breath hitched, your cries growing sharper and more desperate, told Rafe everything he needed to know—you were teetering on the edge. His voice dropped into a low, coaxing growl, his lips brushing against your ear.

"That's it, baby," he murmured, his tone both commanding and soothing, a mix of rough encouragement and deep affection. "Let go for me. Cum for me, beautiful."

And just like that, hot pleasure ran through you like lightning, body trembling as you came all over your husband’s pretty face. As the blood roaring in your ears bates, and you blink back your vision, the first thing you see are those familiar blue eyes gazing up at you. Holding you steady, lips brushing gentle kisses along your inner thighs.

You must have done something right in your past life to have him as your partner.

He pulled back, his lips glistening with the evidence of what he’d just done, and gazed up at you with that trademark smirk—the one that made your heart race and your blood boil in equal measure. As you struggled to catch your breath, he chuckled low in his throat, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction.

"The only time you stop running that smart mouth of yours," he drawled, his eyes dark and playful, "is when I’m buried between your thighs. Not so sassy now, huh, baby?"

Your chest heaved as you processed his words, heat flooding your cheeks. Rolling your eyes, you shoved at his shoulder with your foot, a laugh bubbling past your lips despite your best efforts to stay annoyed.

"I hate you," you shot back, though the corners of your mouth betrayed you, curving into a smile.

He shook his head slowly, the smirk softening into something dangerously close to fondness as he leaned in. Pressing a trail of lazy kisses along your body, working his way from your navel to the hollow of your throat, he murmured against your skin.

"Sure you do..."

You’re catching your breath, trying to steady yourself, when Rafe begins to undress. His gaze doesn’t waver from you as he pulls off his clothes, revealing his sculpted muscles and toned physique. Every inch of him is perfect, his body chiseled and taut, like something crafted from stone. Even the sight of his cock, already leaking with arousal, makes your breath catch in your throat. He’s so hard, it almost feels wrong—like you should apologize for how badly he wants you.

With ease, he spreads your thighs apart, his hands firm yet gentle. "Missionary, so we can keep arguing?" he repeats, teasing you about something you’d said earlier on social media. The words echo in your ears, and a blush rises to your cheeks.

His body leans down toward yours, and his hand grips your hips, holding you in place as the other strokes your cheek with tenderness that contrasts the raw hunger in his eyes. Slowly, deliberately, he sinks into you, inch by inch, a steady rhythm that makes your heart race. You’ve been with him enough times to know the feeling, but each time is different—he stretches you just right, filling you completely, making you gasp.

Perhaps it was because he knew exactly how to touch you, how to make every moment feel electric, or maybe it was the deeper connection you felt with him that stirred something inside you. The way your feelings for him took root and grew, so intense. It was as if he wasn’t just a man you were with—he overwhelmed you, consumed you completely, leaving no room for anything else.

“Shit, Rafe! It’s too much,” you whined, nails raking down his back.

Rafe’s pace slowed just enough for you to feel every thrust in excruciating detail, and you couldn't help but moan at the feeling. But then, as if on cue, he smirked. "You know," he started, his voice low and teasing, "this whole ‘too much’ thing? Kinda sounds like you’re not enjoying it."

You rolled your eyes, trying to bite back a grin despite the rising heat between you. "Are you seriously talking about this right now?" you shot back, the words almost slipping from your lips in frustration. "You’re the one who—"

"Who what?" He cut you off, his thrusts picking up again, harder, deeper, forcing the words to die in your throat. "Who made you this wet?" He grinned at your flustered expression. "I think you’re enjoying it just fine."

“Y-you’re so… ah… full of yourself," you muttered, though the words come out weaker than you intended.

Rafe chuckled darkly, brushing his thumb over your lower lip. "You love it," he said with that same smug smirk. "You can’t get enough of me, can you?"

"Shut up, Cameron," you snapped, trying to push past the wave of pleasure that clouds your thoughts. "You think you’re so perfect, but—"

"Perfect, huh?" He suddenly stopped, his eyes narrowing playfully. "You really want to keep arguing while I’m literally inside you?"

The tone of his voice shifted, becoming possessive, and you felt his grip on your waist tighten as he pulled you closer, forcing you to feel every inch of him. "I’m not—fuck—perfect, but I know what you want."

You exhaled sharply, trying to suppress a moan. "You’re annoying," you bit out, though there’s no real malice in your words.

Rafe laughed, his lips brushing your ear. "I know." He gave you one more slow, deep thrust, and you couldn’t help but gasp. "But you love it."

You glared at him, your body still trembling from his movements.

1K notes · View notes

enzosbabyangel · 6 months ago

Text

“Want me to teach you?”

𐙚Summary: You’re hogwarts good girl and Mattheo sees you at a party, leading to him teaching you how to give somebody(him) a blowjob.

𐙚a/n: repost from my old account, not read over or anything so their might still be spelling errors. i’m gonna be focusing on reposting some things from my old blog for now 💞

𐙚Content warning: partying, hints at Mattheo having a crush on reader for awhile, blowjob, overall kind of vanilla, possible dubcon(Both Mattheo and reader are drunk.), Soft Mattheo, again, very vanilla!, 18+ ONLY, MDNI

You stumbled your way into the empty classroom, the other man kicking the door closed with his foot as the two of you’s tongues fought for dominance. Your heart beating unimaginably fast in your chest. You feel his soft grasp on your waist as you two pulled back for air.

A grin formed on his face as he looked at your flush face and already kiss swollen lips. “You have no idea how long i wanted this.” He said before kissing you again, not giving you a chance to respond.

Maybe it was a good thing you came to this party instead of studying tonight..,

You take a deep breath as you walked into the crowded party. Already feeling the blisters forming on your feet from the heels you were wearing, The loud music blaring, you recognized the song as ‘Talk dirty’ by Jason Derulo. You rolled your eyes at the obscene words of the song as you squeezed your way past the groups of dancing students from various houses. Exams were coming up which means you typically wouldn’t be skipping your nightly studying, however tonight was a special exception. After the upcoming exams next week, it’s graduation. These are your final two weeks that you’ll ever be spending here at hogwarts. The thought put a deep, never ending pit into your stomach. Over the years hogwarts has became your home, the thought of not eating breakfast in the great hall while talking with your friends felt like a bizarre, ‘never happening’ thought. You couldn’t imagine not hearing Draco and Harry getting into their daily arguments and scuffles during classes. And most of all, you’ve grown used to these people, especially one certain boy.

You made your way over to the drinks. The thoughts of graduating made your stomach do flips that you desperately wanted to drink away. You combined a bit of each drink, making the drink look a brownish colour. You swished it around in the cup as you stood there. Your eyes sweeping over all the students you could manage to see.

You didn’t see him, the one guy you wanted to see the most. You knew you shouldn’t be too worried about it. He never missed a party, but what if he suddenly wanted to focus on his studies instead? or maybe he saw you and he left? maybe he actually couldn’t stand you?

Before you managed to get too caught up in your thoughts you saw your friend Angelina Johnson coming over, she was wearing a low cut black dress with a deep v neck, her toned, thin body on display. The sweat that formed on her body and the lights from the party together made her skin glow with a variety of colours. You suddenly felt overdressed as you looked down at your own light baby blue silk dress that covered your thighs and stomach.

“Girl! you came, i knew you wouldn’t miss this.” She said as she stumbled over to you, drink in hand.

“Yeah. Just felt weird to stay in my dorm studying all night when i might not even see any of these people again.” You said with a chuckle as you took a sip of your drink. It sent a tingling sensation down your throat and into your body. You haven’t drank in a while, probably since last year’s Christmas party.

“I get it.” Angelina agreed as she topped up her own drink. “I’m glad you came.” She added genuinely with a smile before grabbing your wrist with a grin, “But you are NOT staying here all night.” She added, already pulling you with her, ignoring the other bodies in her way as you muttered apologies when you guys bumped into people. Accidentally knocking some peoples drinks onto the floor, causing you and Angelina to giggle as the two of you rushed further away in the direction of your friends.

You finally reached all your other friends who were further off towards the left of the room. You said hello to your friends before taking another sip of your drink, the overall atmosphere getting to you as you started to enjoy yourself more.

As time went on you started loosening up, drinking more, dancing with your friends. The loud music having a variety of different songs that matched the atmosphere. Other students slowly started leaving to the dorms or washrooms to hook up. Draco was making out with Astoria against the wall like a duo of horny dogs. And that’s where you spotted him.

Mattheo Riddle. The infamous ‘prince’ of Slytherin, son of the dark lord. a bit of a tit, or ‘manwhore’ as your friends call him. Constantly attending parties instead of studying. Constantly having new ‘girlfriends’. A complete asshole to others.

Well atleast that’s how others describe him. they weren’t exactly wrong, but you personally never had any bad experiences with him. He could be tit, yes, but he was never necessarily rude. He was kind of nice in a way. In a charming way. The perfect amount of Goofy, nice, and cold. Not Fred and George Weasley level of goofy. Not Neville Longbottom level of nice. Not Theodore Nott level of cold. The way his hair was always perfectly curled. His perfect white teeth that lit up the room when he smiled. Or maybe it’s just because you’ve had a big, fat, tv school girl type crush on him since second year.

He was leaning against the side of the fire place, Next to Astoria and Draco. He was alone though, no girl practically dry humping his leg this time. From where you stood you had the perfect view of his side profile as he lit up a cigarette, struggling slightly to get the lighter to work properly. His red solo cup resting on the top of the fireplace next to him. It was like everyone else in the room was nonexistent as you admired the man just a mere couple feet away from you. You didn’t realize your staring until you were forced out of your daze with a rough nudge to your shoulder.

“Seriously? daydreaming about the dark lords son?” Angelina joked light-heartedly as she glanced over in Mattheos direction. You blushed as you looked at her and back to Mattheo

“Uh- No… just noticed him, that’s all.” You brush off. Rubbing your arm uncomfortably with the humid temperature of the party. You couldn’t help but sneak another glance at Mattheo as you swore you saw him look at you out of the corner of your eye.

“Good. You could do so much better than the local slytherin manwhore.” Angelina joked, before standing up from her spot on the little bench, pulling you up with her. “Come on girls! let’s dance instead of sit around like a bunch of bums, last party ‘till graduation.”

And then the night went on. You danced for what felt like forever with your friends. completely forgetting about the fact you’re all going to need to grow up in a couple weeks. That some of you were moving to completely different countries soon after graduation. You all just enjoyed each other’s company, talking to some of the other students that you guys were friends with but not tight nit. Gradually different girls in your friend group dispersed, going off with random guys or their boyfriends to hook up. until eventually it was just you, Angelina, and now Fred.

Fred and Angelina were grinding against each other as you took a quick break from dancing, downing another drink. Your body was feeling lighter now. Angelina was drunk as fuck, Fred almost just as drunk. You stumbled slightly as you made your way back over to the two drunks. Angelina reached out and pulled you closer, “Dance with uss,” She slurred out. You chuckled as you entertained her idea, dancing with them.

You were enjoying yourself before you felt hands firmly plant themselves onto your hips and your back come into contact with a the taller mans upper body. Causing you to freeze slightly. You blushed as you felt them grind themselves against you in sync with your previous dancing. You never did anything like this before so you internally panicked, looking at Angelina for help. But she only grinned, giving you a reassuring nod. you knew what she was saying: ‘Just go with it!’. So you listened, hesitantly moving your hips again. You took it as a good sign to continue when the grip the stranger had on your hips tightened ever so slightly.

You attempted to copy Angelinas movements as you started to feel yourself. That was until you heard a voice, the stranger leaning down to whisper in your ear with an amused tone: “Never knew the ‘hogwarts good girl’ could dance like this.”

Your eyes widened and heart beat picked up as you registered the voice. You knew that voice. “M-Mattheo..?” You stuttered out as you looked up at him wide eyed. Face flushing. His breath smelled heavily of Alcohol and cigarettes. You could faintly smell his go to ‘Dior sauvage’ cologne that you were forced to smell every day in the morning for three years.

“The one and only sweetheart.” He flirted, turning you around so that you face him. You feel his hard-on through his pants. You couldn’t muster a word as you stared in admiration and nervousness. This is your first time being so close to him. “What? cat got your tongue?” He teased with a smirk.

You blinked at his words before shaking your head, “No- no.. just surprised.” You attempted to say more casually, though it instead came out shy and timid. You finally looked down from his face, glancing at the silver chain locket around his neck with the Slytherin snake symbol decorating it, the black t-shirt he was wearing underneath a thin black button up jacket. You flinched lightly as you felt his hands start to run up and down your waist.

He chuckled at your response before asking; “Wanna head off somewhere else?” with a smirk. You knew what he was suggesting. It felt like everything was a dream. But at the same time you didn’t want him to expect too much from you. so you blurted out;

“I never did anything like this before.”

And that leads to your current situation. In a random, empty classroom in a heated make out session with Mattheo. You clench your thighs together in excitement. Your stomach doing little cartwheels as you pulled away again for air. You chuckled nervously as Mattheo started littering kisses along your jaw and down to your neck. You grinned softly, biting your lip as you got your breath back, hand resting on his shoulder as you glanced down at his bundle of curls. You were nervous. You heard stories about what it’s like to do things with him. That he’s rough, sadistic, and so on. All the things you didn’t want for trying anything remotely sexual for the first time, but now you couldn’t care less. perhaps it was just the alcohol in your system messing with your thinking. Either way you couldn’t help the giddy feeling you had while Mattheos’ kisses trailed along your collarbone until it stopped right in the middle. He pulled back and admired your dress, finger tracing along the ruffles at the very bottom of the dress.

“Cute dress,” He mumbled, standing up properly again, making you have to arch your head up to see his face. Your face flushed more -if it was even possible- as you stumbled over your words but eventually got out a small ‘Thank you’.

He grinned as his fingers gently ran across the outline of your face. This wasn’t the Mattheo that you heard others described, and you couldn’t help but notice the softness in his eyes as he admired your appearance. You quickly pushed the thought away the possibility of him liking you, you ‘were just another one of the girls he was gonna hook up with’ you thought. Perhaps the look in his eyes was just from the alcohol in his system. Or maybe he could tell how drunk you were. You only got knocked out of your thoughts when he asked you a question:

“Have you never even given a blowjob before?” Mattheo asks, his hand falling from your face and instead resting on your hips as his other hand rested on the desk next to you.

You glanced down, embarrassed as you bit the inside of your cheek. You felt ridiculous, you were nine-teen fucking years old and you’ve never even sucked a guy off yet, the most basic of stuff. You tried telling yourself that it wasn’t that big of a deal, but you couldn’t deny the pang of embarrassment that you felt when you had sleepovers with your friends and couldn’t relate with anything they said while talking about boys. Mattheo seemed to read your body language though as he chuckled and responded despite your lack of an answer.

“No?” he asked amused, tilting your head up to look at him again. “Want me to teach you?” he asked, grin plastered on his damned, handsome face. You swallowed in anticipation and nerves while nodding.

He wasted no time in picking you up off the table and turning the both of you around, switching the two of you’s places. “Get down on your knees sweetheart,” He told you as he pushed you down gently, his hand on your shoulders. You did as you were told, pushing the skirt of your dress up slightly so that you weren’t pulling it down by your knees.

Mattheo smirked down at you as he took his jacket off, going at a teasingly slow pace as he placed it behind him. With the jacket off you could see the shirt he had underneath. The sleeves stopping just at his elbows, showing off his muscular forearms. Fuck was he hot. You weren’t sure what to do next as he leaned against the desks, hands resting behind him which held him up. He chuckled with an amused grin before saying; “You can undo the belt princess,”

You nodded, reaching up as you attempted to undo his belt. Feeling nervous to touch him, attempting to take the belt off while acting like you’re walking on eggshells. Mattheo struggled to hold back a laugh as he moved his hand to help you take the stupid belt off, slapping your hands away as he undid the belt himself. “You can pull a zipper down at least, right?” He asked with a smirk.

You smiled at his words, rolling your eyes as you mumbled out a yeah. taking the zipper into your fingers as you unzipped his black jeans. looking up at him as he simply nodded. You pulled his pants down slightly, leaving them at the middle of his thighs. You looked up nervously, and feeling slightly awkward as he watched you. Considering the fact you never did this before you were scared to progress. Holding the waistband of his boxers hesitantly. You couldn’t help but bite your lip to hold back a laugh as Mattheos own laugh resounded throughout the empty classroom. His hand gently playing with your hair as he spoke: “You don’t have to be so nervous, just pull the boxers down.” He said amused, causing yourself to let out a laugh, his attitude doing a surprisingly good job at making you feel more comfortable.

You shuffled his boxers down, his cock jumping free from its restraints and up against his clothed stomach. You gulped slightly at his size, about… 7 inches, But… how was that supposed to fit into your mouth?? “Uh… i don’t need to like… take the whole thing?” You asked for reassurance. getting more embarrassed as the absurd question escaped your lips.

You could tell Mattheo was enjoying every minute of this as you looked up at his charming smile as he let out another bark of laughter at your words. “Nah, you don’t gotta worry about that princess,” He said, easily holding eye contact as he played with a strand of hair. “I’ll train you for that another time,” He added. his words laced with arrogant confidence that he would do so. You rolled your eyes at his choice of words and tone, wanting to say something back but biting it back as Mattheo spoke again.

“It’s better if you start off with a little handjob.” Mattheo started, tone calm and patient. “Use your spit as a type of lube and it’ll feel 10 times better for any guy.” He instructed with a grin. You nodded, going to follow his instructions but you couldn’t help the awkward chuckle that escaped you, glancing up at Mattheo as you gripped him in your hand. You could feel how hard he was, his cock twitching slightly at the feeling of your colder hand wrapping firmly around the base. Mattheo too, chuckled. “What? i’m not gonna judge you,” He teased playfully. pulling your hair that out from the front of your face and onto your back.

You just awkwardly grinned before spitting the built up saliva from your mouth onto your hand, wrapping it around Mattheos cock. With an experimental flick of your wrist you spread the spread the spit around the base of his cock. You figured what you were doing was good when he let out a slight grunt and you saw his hand tighten around the desk. You gradually brought your hand up, blushing slightly as his cock twitched in your hand. You continued your movements, replicating what you’ve read from inappropriate books of girls in similar situations, spreading some of the spit around the swollen tip of his cock with your thumb. You could tell you were doing good by the way his breath hitched in his throat, his breathing picking up as his hips bucked into your touch, and the praise falling from his lips.

“Shit- you’re doing good. keep doing that but go a little faster.” Mattheo says, his grip on your hair tightening slightly. You listened, going faster as you cringed slightly at the feeling of the spit being spread around on your hand. You couldn’t help but reach your hand inbetween your thighs to help relieve some of the painful arousal, palming yourself through your soaked panties. You relished at the occasional moan or grunt that left his mouth and his laboured breathing.

Usually, at this point in the perverted books you’ve read, the girl would start to use her mouth. You weren’t sure if you should just go for it or wait. Trusting your gut you placed an experimental kitten lick along the side of his shaft, making him let out a breathy moan, his hand going to place itself gently on your hair, fingers entangling themselves with your hair.

You did the same thing along his entire shaft up to his tip. His fingers tightening around your locks of hair. “Try taking it into your mouth now,” He said, looking down at you. You bit your lip slightly as you let out a quick snort of laughter at his words, not being able to take this too seriously as the alcohol in your system was making everything ten times funnier.

“C’mon don’t be scared.” He teased, grinning at your laughter. His hand pushing your head slightly to edge you on. You just grinned slightly, glancing up at him.

His face flushed slightly as he bit his cheek, looking down at you. chest slowly going up and down. You watched as his arms flexed as you took him into your mouth, gagging as you quickly felt him go farther into your mouth than you’ve ever felt before. Stopping at just half his length before you were attempting to pull back. His hand held your head in place for a couple seconds before letting up, his hand falling back to his side. A ‘pop’ sounded in the room as you pulled back, coughing and wiping the bit of spit that seeped out from the corners of your mouth. You could feel the slight stretch of your mouth at the edge of , it was an uncomfortable feeling.

He smiled down at you recovered yourself. “Was that ok?” He asked, his tone patient. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable and that everything was going at an ok pace for you.

You smiled up at him as you nodded. “I can continue,” You said eagerly. Waiting for him to agree as you grasped him in your hand again. slowly going up and down with your hand.

He nodded down at you, “Yeah. Try using your tongue a bit more while going…. uh.. up and down, yeah?” He asked, not sure exactly how to explain it. You smiled in response, taking him into your mouth again. It was easier to do this time though you could still only take about half of him. You let your tongue slide against the bottom of his shaft along a vein as you (attempted) to bop your head. the unfamiliar movement feeling awkward to do as you placed your hand on his thighs for support.

“Yeah shit- like that.” He said, his hand again finding solace on your head again. his hips gently thrusting into your mouth. Making you gag slightly. “Use your hand on the bit you can’t fit into your mouth-“ He said through moans, his voice sounding more desperate now. You followed what he said, your hand gripping the bit of his cock that you couldn’t fit into your mouth, jerking him off.

You took his increasing moans and tightened grip on your hair as a sign that you’re doing good as you continued your movements. Gagging slightly as you struggled to breathe through your nose, eventually needing to pull away as you coughed slightly. You decided to replace the absence of your mouth with your hand as you caught your breath.

“You’re doing good for your first time,” Mattheo commented with a smirk, his face flushed. His hand moving down to wipe the spit from your face. “You sure you’re not lying to me?” He asked. Looking at you with slight, playful skepticism.

You bit your lip slightly in embarrassment as you admitted without fully thinking: “I read books… and watched a couple videos.”

Your face flushed in embarrassment at your sudden admission, taking in Mattheo’s reaction as his eyes widened slightly before quickly being replaced with amusement. “I knew you were a little too good of a student.” He teased with a smirk, hand going back to your hair as he pulled slightly, “Now c’mon. You’re supposed to be giving a blowjob. Not a handjob.”

You then continued. Attempting to get used to the full feeling in your mouth along with needing to breathe through your nose. Your jaw slowly starting to ache. Mattheo started pushing your head further down his cock, making you gag around him which seemed to only turn him on more. “Fuck… can’t wait to train your throat another time.” He said through a mix of a moan and groan. His words didn’t fully process through your lust and alcohol clouded brain. “You mind if i help you a little bit? hm?” He asked, hand twirling your hair into more of a makeshift ponytail. You just nodded as much as you could in response to his words. looking at him with lust-over, wide eyes.

He grinned as he bit his lip as you looked up at him, chuckling slightly. “Fuck yeah.., knew you’d agree.” He mumbled as he gripped your hair into a more firm grip as he started moving your head back and forth by your hair. With Mattheo controlling your movements you could focus more on trying to add to the pleasure with your tongue. swirling it around his cock as you placed small ‘kitten lick’ like flicks on the tip when he pulled you back.

You could only take it as he face-fucked you eagerly. And god was his sounds divine. His American accent making his random mumbles of curses or praise hotter, “Shit.. taking this like a champ, surprisingly.”

Or the occasional, every once in a while, quick whimpers that’d escape up his throat and out of his mouth. You just felt dizzy with excitement not only at what you’re doing- but the sudden revelation that he may like you too, or even that he chose you to hook up with of all girls. Your hands rested on his thighs as they started to flex more and more often, as well as his moans increase in pitch slightly.

Mattheo pulls you off his cock as he came. Not sure of your boundaries yet so he didn’t want to do anything too…. kinky?

You quickly started trying to fill your lungs with oxygen as you coughed softly, not as bad as the last two times though. You watched as Mattheo came, jacking himself off through it as his cum spurted out onto his shirt and hand.

You flinched as you felt something land on your face, blinking as you reached your hand up to touch at the sticky liquid on your face. Mattheo too noticed as his eyes widened slightly, quickly moving his hand to your face, wiping the cum off with his thumb. “Shit- sorry..” He said.

What you did next you weren’t sure if it was because you were genuinely curious, or too drunk to think properly. You held his wrist in place as you licked the cum off his thumb, grin plastered on your face as you took in his reaction. His cum tasted kind of salty and bitter, though not the worst thing you’ve tasted. Mattheo watched in shock combined with amusement as he grinned. “Well? how did it taste?” He asked, looking down at you as he shoved himself back into the confines of his pants. Amused at your actions. clearly he underestimated how much of a freak you really were.

You just grinned up at him as you let go of his wrist. “I’d take that over cottage cheese,” You said with a soft giggle as you were pulled up back to your feet by Mattheo. wobbling slightly as you got used to needing to stand on your feet.

Mattheo kept his hand in yours as he smiled at you, wiping the spit and small bits of his cum still on your face off. “Should i keep that in mind for our date?” He said, tone half confident and questioning. Though before you could hear anything you heard an all to familiar voice from the hallway,

“This Classroom, Now.” The voice that you both recognized as Severus Snape said, voice inching closer to the door of the room you two were in. You and Mattheo shared a glance before you both quickly went and hid behind a pile of random class stuff. Perfectly hiding the two of you when you sat.

You two glanced at each other as you both grinned before jumping slightly as the door to the class slammed open and then closed. “Sit.” Severus Snape demanded as he walked dangerously close to the two of you. “The amount of times i have caught you two doing some type of obscenity in public is As.tro.nom.i.cal.” Snape spoke, putting pointed emphasis on ‘astronomical’.

“We’re teenagers being teenagers, what else would you expect?” The voice of a student said. You and Mattheo both shared a glance as you both stifled back chuckles, recognizing the voice. Fred Weasley, which most likely meant the other student was Angelina. You could practically hear the grin on Freds face.

“Teenager or not i expect you to have some decency.” Snape spat out, strictness and annoyance in his tone. “Especially since you’re only here for two and a half more weeks.” Snape added, putting emphasis as he spoke ‘two and a half.’ You covered your mouth as you giggled quietly, scooting closer to Mattheo as he moved his arm to make room for you. You two practically cuddling against eachother as you two listened to Fred and Angelina get lectured by Professor Snape.

Mattheo glanced down at you before smiling, genuinely. Whispering down to you: “As i was saying, date tomorrow morning at Hogsmeade? Three Broomsticks?” He asked. Silently hoping in his head that you’ll say yes.

You shared his genuine smile as you nodded excitedly, “Of course.” You tried to whisper back casually, though your tone exposed the excitement coursing through you as you rested your head on his shoulder and smiled like an idiot.

“Though you should probably clean the cum off your shirt.”

⟡ ݁₊ . written by enzosbabyangel, 2025 on tumblr! © do not repost on any third party website or repost as yours. Doing so will result in me blocking you and reporting.

#harry potter #harry potter smut #slytherin #slytherin smut #slytherin boys #smut #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x reader smut #mattheo riddle #slytherin boys smut #vanilla smut

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artdcnaldson · 9 months ago

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Pat just being like “c’mon babe I promise, I just need to get off and it’ll help so much. Just the tip, I swear, that’s all. Just the tip.”

Maybe with Art’s gf? They’re close and you know they’ve done more together than they’ll admit to and Art’s got those catholic premarital sex notions so you’re kinda on edge and if it IS just the tip then it’s fine, right? If it doesn’t go any further than that… it doesn’t count as cheating when it’s his best friend and it’s just the tip….

Turning that on its head and sweet blushing virgin Art getting so worked up that it’s Your turn to say “just the tip, baby. It doesn’t count if you’re not all the way in. I bet it’s so painful, I wanna help. You can give me the tip.”

Naturally neither stop at just the tip teehee

FUUUUUUUCK <3 this has been hidden in my inbox and I JUST found it. Feeling INSANE!!!

Patrick thinks you're too sweet to go unfucked, to have your needs ignored in favor of some moral high ground bullshit. He knows how needy you are— you're not exactly subtle when you watch Art tug his sweaty shirt off on the tennis court, how you clench your thighs and cross and uncross your legs to get a bit of friction.

And he doesn't miss how you watch him either, when he's shirtless on the court, or at the pool. When it's hot in Art's dorm and he's stripped to his boxers. You watch him, you swallow and lick your lips and look away.

And there you are, staying the summer at his parent's empty mansion. Art's inside sleeping off a hangover, and you're with Patrick at the pool in a tiny bikini. You turn and stretch and reapply sunscreen onto your skin, and that's all it takes for Patrick to pop an obvious boner.

He's not above begging. Pleading. Getting on his goddamn knees for pussy. And he's very convincing. He knows you need more than what Art can give you, and Patrick doesn't even have to give you everything, you can save that for Art, he promises.

How can you say no? You should say no, but you don't. You let him tug your bikini bottoms to the side and tease the head of his cock through your sticky folds, bumping against your clit while you writhe on the plush lounge chair.

It doesn't take long for you to beg him. Each time his cockhead nudges against your entrance that tight ring of muscle there twitches, like your body wants to suck him deeper. When he just barely breaches your entrance you moan so pretty, it's like music to his goddamn ears.

It takes all of his self control to keep from driving in, deep, fucking you like he wants. But he's good. Even when you move your pretty manicured fingers to rub at your clit, even when your cunt clenches and pulses around him. He wants to fuck you the way you deserve, but he's a gentleman. He keeps his promise. He pulls out to cum, painting your cunt and bikini bottoms sticky white.

And once you have that, you just want Art more. You've gotten a taste, and you want the real thing bad. But Art's so sweet, so repressed.

Your poor, sweet Art, who has to hold you still with firm hands on your hips after five minutes of making out. Whose face goes ruddy and sheepish as he says he just needs a second to cool down. Who apologizes for getting so worked up and tells you that you're just so pretty he can't help it.

And you're so convincing that Patrick would be proud. Because it doesn't count if he's doesn't go all the way in, right? It'll help if he just gets a bit of release, then he won't be so tempted and overwhelmed by you. Isn't that a good thing? To just give in a little so he isn't tempted to give in entirely? Won't god understand?

If god doesn't understand, Art does. He swallows down a nervous lump in his throat and tugs down his jeans and boxers. His cock is flushed red and beading precum just from a heavy makeout session.

"You can't touch it." The words make you want to pout, but Art's like a skittish animal— one wrong move and it's over. So you lay back on the bed peel your panties away from your drenched pussy, so slick it's obscene.

It's just the tip. Art's a good boy, he'll behave. His hands shake as he leans down, brushes your hair from your face before he gives you a soft kiss. His cock notches against your entrance and you're both trembling with pure want.

It takes all of his self control, it really does. He feeds the first inch or two inside and you're so tight and wet and hot that he nearly cums then and there. He ruts into you with soft, shallow motions— making sure not to go too deep, even if he wants to. And he wants to so fucking badly.

"Just a little deeper," you nearly beg, and how can he say no? Just a little more. It won't hurt, it feels so good anyway. And then a little more, because he's already come this far. And then your heels press into his ass and he's buried in you to the hilt and you're squeezing him so tight that he can't help it.

He comes with a strangled groan, hips jerking clumsily as he instinctually tries to bury himself deeper. He collapses on top of you, all of the energy sapped out of him as he continues to rut into your cunt.

"I don't think that's going to help with temptation," he mumbles against your throat.

You kiss the crown of his head and pet his soft curls and assure him that it's fine, that he didn't mean to, that he didn't sin that much. He's a good guy, god will understand. All the while, you're keenly aware of a shadow of someone standing just on the other side of the door. A very smug, very proud Patrick Zweig.

#art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #artrick x reader #art donaldson smut #patrick zweig smut #challengers x reader

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everrinsly · 2 months ago

Text

a/n; this is very filthy even for me... i apologize ahhh, holy water spray for everyone!

life with sae vibes.

don't swallow with sae. smut. nsfw. very suggestive. mature. mdni. fem!reader. | not proofread.

more life with sae here!

more reads!

~~~~~

You don't know how long it's been.

Or how many hours have passed—

Because Sae's never been the one to give you time to recover.

Because when Sae's drunk on power, he doesn't just want to be inside you. He doesn't just want to fuck you. He wants to own every inch of you.

—So now, you’re trembling, sensitive, tears clinging to your lashes when Sae flips you gently onto your back and slides between your thighs again, hands gripping the flesh to spread you wider.

“Fuck, baby—you feel so good,” he growls, voice rough and low.

Your back arches, nails clawing at his shoulders and down his back as he pounds into you, each thrust precise, brutal, feral, like he was marking you as his. Your body rocks with his, the bed creaking under the force and the headboard banging against the wall.

“Ah—ah—S-Sae, 's too much,” you murmur, dizzy. You could barely keep up, your mind a hot blur of pleasure and need.

Sae only laughs, a dark and breathy sound from the back of his throat, before leaning down to brush your lower lip with his thumb.

“Aw, sweetheart—but you said anything,” he whispers. "You said I could do anything I want. Don't tell me you're tapping out now, baby."

A harsh thrust—

“You can take it, can’t you? You wanna be my good girl, yeah?"

A slap to your ass—

"So be fuckin' good for me, got it?"

And you nod because that's all you can do. You're too fucked out to comprehend anything. But it doesn't matter because just the sound of Sae's voice, no matter what he's saying, was enough for you to agree.

You always do. Always want to be his good girl. Sae's girl.

He strokes your jaw, thumb nudging your mouth open.

“And there she is. Open wider.”

His voice is commanding, dripping with pure authority. You obey, lips parting instinctively, a soft whimper escaping.

His teal eyes glint, dark and possessive, as he let a slow, deliberate string of spit fall from his lips into your mouth. The warmth of it hit your tongue, filthy and intimate; you shiver, core clenching around him as he groans.

But Sae's not done.

He spits slowly—again and again—each filthy glob hot, heavy, landing on your tongue like ownership.

One.

Two.

Three.

Until it’s thick. Pooling. Dripping down the corners of your mouth.

You moan around it, the sound coming out all garbled—like trying to speak with water. Sae's cock twitches inside you.

"Shit—baby," he rasps, leaning his forehead against yours. "You're fuckin' unreal."

He doesn't let you look away way from him. Doesn't let you close your mouth. Doesn't let you swallow.

You're overwhelmed as he spits again, mouth filling, the slick warmth dribbling down the sides of your lips, trailing over your chin. It's messy, obscene, and so so wet.

Sae’s eyes darkens at the sight, his thrusts growing erratic, driven by the filthy picture of you beneath him. His hand grips your chin, tilting your face up as he watches the mess overflow, sliding down your jaw.

“So fucking pretty like this,” he growls, his hand sliding down to your throat, not squeezing, just holding, just grounding you as he pounds relentlessly. “All mine, dripping for me.”

You whimper, spit coating your lips, thighs spread, cunt still clenching him from overstimulation. You’ve never felt dirtier. Never felt more wanted.

Sae leans over you, cock dragging along your soaked folds as he fists the sheets beside your head.

“Mouth stays open. Don’t swallow yet,” he growls, reaching down to stroke your clit. “Keep it right there. Want to see it spill—god, I could fuck your mouth next,” he groans. “Just push in and watch it all leak out while you gag on it.”

You whine, but he just grins, all teeth and control.

He fucks into you slow and filthy, but every forceful thrust makes you bounce—the pool of spit swaying in your mouth before spilling down the sides of your lips, down your chin, throat, chest.

“You love it, don’t you?” he growls, hips grinding deep. “Being ruined like this. Being mine.”

You try to respond, but there was no point—

Because your mouth is full, and your brain is gone.

And Sae?

He covers your mouth with his, kisses your parted lips as best he can, tongue dipping into the warm mess, just once before pulling out.

“Good girl,” he whispers. “Now fucking swallow.”

He thrusts harder, bringing you closer and closer to the brink of your high. The sensation is overwhelming, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you with every thrust, the taste of him on your tongue pushing you toward delirium. Your body shakes, pleasure coiling tight.

Sae notices, his smirk turning feral.

One last thrust—

And you come at the same time you swallow, the act so dirty it sent heat flooding through you.

Sae tilts your chin up, his thumb pressing against your bottom lip to keep your mouth open and spits again—slower this time, watching as it pools on your tongue.

“Fuck, look at you,” he murmurs, voice thick with hunger, panting into your mouth like he could devour you whole. “Swallow once more, baby.”

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babeitaintme · 1 month ago

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a little request please: friend vs boyfriend vs fiancé vs husband Bruce drabble/hc’s? like how he would be in each role & progress in a relationship- tysm!!!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥❀࿐TO LOVE SOMEBODY THE WAY I LOVE YOU (bruce wayne x reader) your love story♡

thank you for your request lovebug! i got carried away lol. reader’s gender is not specified but it was written partially with a fem!reader in mind. i took some creative liberty and did my best to make a mix of hc and drabble, i hope it’s okay :)

⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･･°❀⋆.ೃ

BEFORE HE FELL; could it be love

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚BRUCE WAYNE was a man of pure mystery. an enigmatic combination of wealth, excellence, and eloquence personified. it came as a shock to everyone (including yourself) when you, the socialite known for being carefree and letting loose, found yourself in the frequently close company of bruce wayne.

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚the way you guys met was something purely comical. it was in the midst of a social event you found yourself attending with a business partner of yours, a night full of networking and socializing that left you exhausted. you were reaching for your fourth champagne flute of the night when you bumped into a man whose chest felt as though it was seemingly made of bricks, sending the fizzy liquid all across the front of your dress. you two opened your mouths to apologize at the same time, talking over each other in a way that made you laugh wholeheartedly.

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚it was after that night that bruce learned your name and “mysteriously” appeared at the management building of the company your father owned, inviting you to coffee with him during your lunch break.

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚your friendship quickly blossomed from there. you two provided a safe and judgement free place for one another. bruce relished in the way you brought out a side of him that he felt he had to keep tucked away in order to pursue his double life; you accepted him for who he was and didn’t hold him to any obscene expectation. he was just bruce. similarly, you appreciated the way bruce took you and your thoughts seriously. he was always willing to listen to you and give feedback—no matter how silly the situation may be

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚your mutualistic dynamic that relied primarily on you guys’ ability to listen to each other, met many late night conversations either at hole-in-the-wall restaurants where you wouldn’t be spotted or through phone calls whenever bruce was free

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚as friends, bruce kept the bridge between you and his secret life far and strong. not because he didn’t trust you or care about you, but because he wanted to keep both of you safe and he didn’t want your perception of him to change

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚this meant accepting that for large portions of the day you wouldn’t hear from him and learning to not ask questions when he disappears for days at a time and tiredly responds with “just a business trip” when you ask where he’s been

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚being friends with him also means becoming acquainted with alfred. after your first few visits to the manor you quickly assume the role of being alfred’s taste tester for any desserts he makes. it isn’t long before bruce begins bringing you a new tray of scones or brownies whenever he sees you, each container labeled with a sticky note from alfred (though he’d never admit it, bruce began asking alfred for the recipes of your favorites and learning to make them himself)

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚in all, bruce thoroughly enjoys having you around and although he tries his best to keep you at arms length, there’s no avoiding how naturally you fit into his life

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚it’s shy of a year into your friendship that he decides there’s no avoiding the fact that he has feelings for you. and he can tell that you’re realizing something similar

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚it’s in the way he catches himself staring at you in a new light as you ramble on about some gossip you heard from your secretary. all of a sudden he’s noticing the way your smile lines crinkle when you speak, the way you use your hands to emphasize your words when you’re passionate about something, the subtle redness the dresses your cheeks whenever he makes a teasing comment, or the way you smile with all of your teeth when he recalls something you’d mentioned days prior——he’s a goner!

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚the back and forth with his emotions leaves him feeling like a lovesick teenager

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚it takes a month and a half before he finally confesses. it isn’t in a ceremonial manner like he feels you deserved, but instead it happens organically

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚you’re laying flush against him on the couch in front of his grand fireplace when he finds himself lost in the beauty of your face glowing in the partially lit room. the words fall out of his mouth instantly—in a speech worded so beautifully that you don’t even let him finish before you kiss to shut him up.

FALLING DEEPER; in love

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚BRUCE WAYNE is everything you’ve ever dreamed of in a boyfriend

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚he was attentive, caring and did his best to make time for you two despite his busy schedule

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚100% the boyfriend who plans every date and insures you never have to worry about a single thing in preparation. he spares no expense in buying you an outfit for the occasion, picking you up in his nicest vehicle, and of course handling the hefty bill for whatever excursion you find yourself on

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚he tries his best to keep your relationship out of the spotlight, but definitely doesn’t attempt to hide you. however, it doesn’t require a flashy introduction as a couple for it to become known. people talk and every member of your high society inner circle had been waiting for you two to finally figure out the obvious feelings you shared

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚he’s definitely the kind of boyfriend that sends you frequent texts asking “have you ate today?” or “have you drank water today? i told you living off of coffee and energy drinks isn’t sustainable.” of course your response each time he asks is unsatisfactory so you become used to receiving deliveries of your favorite takeout to your office on busy days, a new stanley tumbler in your favorite color to encourage a higher water intake, and a fridge full of meal prep courtesy of alfred

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚i see bruce getting along perfectly in a yapper x listener bf dynamic. you love to fill him in on the whirlwind of drama that unfolds in your office and he loves nothing more than listening to your sweet voice while he works. you can’t count the amount of times you’ve been sat in his lap, going on and on about something your coworker told you, while bruce finished up paperwork at his desk. drumming his finger against your hip as he did so. you’d get bashful all of sudden, stopping to ask him if he was still listening (you never wanted to annoy him), to which he’d respond with a soft hum or “of course darling”

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚being bruce’s partner meant breaking down more of that tough exterior and seeing the side of him he felt was better kept hidden. you had already broken through as his close friend, but it becomes more apparent in your relationship. trust is something that bruce values highly in his romantic relationships. and with everything you do, even in the mundane things, bruce realizes that you’re beyond deserving of his trust and willing to be his confidant

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚because of this, it’s during this early chapter of your romance that bruce reveals his double life to you. much to his appreciation, you don’t make a fuss about it and instead confess how much it means to you that he felt comfortable sharing something of that nature with him. this of course results in a long makeout session

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚on the topic of trust and kisses, i feel that you guys wouldn’t have sex until you’re a few months into your relationship. bruce views sex with you as the ultimate display of intimacy and affection. he doesn’t want to fuck you, he wants to make love to you. his touch isn’t fast or rough, but rather slow and intentional. he wants his love for you to show through everything that he does.

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚bruce is also a protective boyfriend. not in a toxic or controlling way, but in a “i just want you to be safe” way. you guys share locations, you never forget to update him whenever you go out alone or when you make it home on late nights, and he also is sure to set up your home with the best security system the city offers. he isn’t smothering you, but he couldn’t imagine you getting hurt in his absence. you don’t mind it, you can tell it’s his way of showing how much he cares

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚In all, bruce wayne is a beautiful boyfriend towards you that’s wants nothing more than what’s best for you!

A PROMISE OF FOREVER; an undeniable love

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚BRUCE WAYNE had never been more nervous in his life. and that wasn’t an exaggeration or overstatement. in fact, it may very well be an understatement

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚the usual calm and relaxed expression that graced his face whenever he was in your presence was gone. instead, it was replaced with furrowed brows and a nervous heat that rose up the back of his neck and dusted his face with a light blush. he swears he even felt a bead of sweat trickle down his forehead

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚he followed close behind you, his pinky finger interlinked with yours as though he was making a promise, as you led him across a beach in santorini. it was a sight to behold. your hair was blown about by the evening breeze, the hem of your dress dragging across the white sand, and your voice echoing slightly due to the emptiness of the beach (thanks to bruce pulling a few strings). you were blissfully unaware of what was about to unfold

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚suddenly, bruce stopped in his tracks. you followed suit and turned to face him with a playfully quizzical look. “what are you up to, hun?” you asked. without a word, bruce dropped to his left knee and took your hand in his.

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚ “For the past few years, I’ve had the honor of experiencing something I never thought life had in store for me. I’ve learned what it feels like to be truly loved, cared for, and appreciated—even during the hardest moments, when I didn’t feel worthy of it,” he pauses to take in your awestruck smile, “You’ve been my safe place, my rock, for as long as I’ve been blessed to know you. I honestly can’t imagine a world where you’re not by my side, keeping me grounded, strong, and hopeful. I want to spend the rest of my life loving you, and being loved by you.” he finishes his speech with a hopeful laugh as he reaches into his pocket to pull out your ring. “so, will you marry me?”

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚you shouted yes so loud that you’re sure the entire ocean could hear you.

IN SICKNESS AND IN HEALTH; forever in love

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚BRUCE WAYNE as your husband exceeds any and all expectations

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚shortly after your engagement you moved into his lavish manor and he wasted no time making it as welcoming as possible. ordering the skin care/hygiene items he knew you loved in bulk so that your shared bathroom was always stocked, giving you your own walk-in closet to accommodate your spending habits, and allowing you to decorate as you pleased

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚you two fell into the domestic life fairly smoothly

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚it felt as though it was second nature for you two to have your lives so closely intertwined.

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚he’s definitely the type of husband that shows his loves through acts of service. you don’t even have to say anything before you notice the once empty bottle of your favorite perfume is replaced, or when you realize that the bookshelf in your shared bedroom is suddenly filled with the rest of a series you’d been meaning to finish. you bring it up to him and he’ll downplay it, shrugging and simply telling you that all that matters to him is that you’re happy.

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚it became routine for you to wake up to light kisses across your jawline before he left the warmth of your bed in the early hours of the morning, hug & kiss him goodbye before you leave to run errands around lunchtime, and share a late night dinner by candlelight when he was finally relieved from his duties

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚it may not be perfect for everyone, but it worked for you two and bruce loved how perfectly things flowed with you

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚i imagine bruce to be a D1 pillow talker, especially in you guys’ honeymoon stage

♡ ̆̈✧˚ ⋆｡˚he’s looking at you with the softest expression ever as he admires your features in the moonlight shifting through the windows. you reach your hand up to caress his cheek, rubbing your thumb back and forth against his stubble. he rests his hand on top of yours before whispering, “i’m so damn glad you spilled that drink”

⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･･°❀⋆.ೃ

feel free to leave any comments :)

#cress writings⋆.ೃ࿔*:･#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne fluff #batman x reader #dc fanfic #bruce wayne x fem!reader #bruce wayne x you #batman x fem!reader #dc comics

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awakittie · 5 months ago

Note

jinx fucking the reader slowly and deeply with the strap please 😮‍💨😩

cw. degradation. jinx being toxic. use of a strap. modern!jinx (ooc)

jinx, when you’re not allowed anything.

anything but her.

you fuck yourself up against her, slick cunt clenching around the fat of her strap. every inch she feeds into you has you gasping, clutching at the sheets by your hips.

jinx drinks up your moans like food from the gods, beath hot and sour as it wafts over your face — grown lobster-red from her consistent thrusts.

her slender hands find the meat of your thigh, greedy and desperate as they grope the tender flesh.

“you know i love you, right?” her lips press in a thin line, like she’s deep in thought. she waits a beat. “but it hurts me— it really does, when you go off with her, y’know?”

“it’s disgusting really. makes you seem like some cheap whore,” she spits, bringing an arm under your leg to hoist it higher. “no. no, you’re more than that, aren’t you?”

you nod, babbling some incoherent apology under your breath till shes jerking your head back softly with a hand twisted in your hair.

“hm?” she presses, thighs pressing up against yours as she slows on a pump of her hips. she licks her teeth, clicking her tongue at your lack of a coherent response.

“i— i know, it wont h- happen again,” you plead, hands coming up to weave through the loose strands sitting on her scalp. it grounds her.

you feel pathetic.

in your head you’re on your knees by her feet, pleading, begging for forgiveness. she’s glowering down at your trembling form, foot pressed against your back as you heave.

“i love you.” your lips meet hers, ankles locking over the small of her back, right where it meets the slope of her ass.

your greedy cunt swallows everything she has to offer, the obscene squelches filling in the gaps of monotony. she cants her head down, licking a long stripe up the junction of your neck.

her tongue is slick, leaving behind a hot snails trail along your tender neck, bobbing with each gasp her hips draw from you. “p— please, faster..”

your pleading does nothing, as she just belts a laugh in your face, tilting her head. “you think you deserve it faster?”

she leers at you, and you butter up the request with a hand tucking her bangs away from her face, back behind her ear. her nose twitches.

“you’ll take what i give you, baby.” a slap to your ass and she’s hoisting you further up her lap.

a sly hand slithers between your thighs, finding your swollen clit — just begging for release. despite her agonisingly slow pace, you thrash against her, whimpering into her parted lips.

“atta girl,” she hums out a laugh, slowing her movements for a beat as she speaks. “you’re getting so wet, so riled up for me — aren’t you, my sweet?”

“all for you, it’s all for you,” you whine pathetically, squeezing your eyes shut.

she feels your legs tighten around her waist, and the familiar wet warmth that dribbles down her inner thighs. she knows you’ve come from the glaze in your eyes, from the way your lips part in a silent gasp.

when you’re done she pulls out and rolls over. despite herself, despite how selfish and narcissistic jinx seems she never really cares for getting off herself.

sometimes it makes you wonder if she wants you at all. are you enough for her?

she always washes away those thoughts with dips of her lips onto yours, coaxing soft hums from your throat for the millionth time that day.

“i love you.” her voice breaks the silence, raw and raspy from exertion. her bare chest heaves as she comes down from whatever high she got out of making you come.

“i love you more than anything, you know that?”

do you know that?

“i do.”

can you tell i love this doomed yuri edgy jinx thang!!😸

( divider creds to @omi-resources and @cafekitsune )

#request #jinx x reader #arcane #jinx arcane #league of legends #arcane x reader #arcane x you #fanfic #jinx league of legends #jinx x you

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papercranesandinkstains · 2 months ago

Text

Midnights

Summary: You guys never could get your timing right. Or could you?

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

AN: This is the first time I have ever published a written fic, so please please please be kind. I don't know if I will leave this up or if I will do more, but I just wanted to try it out... Thank you for reading!

Masterlist

The two of you had been playing this game for long enough. The back and forth. Committing your hearts to one another, then jumping and running the second the rain started. Waiting for the storm to subside and then your phone would light up late at night, sending you right back down the rabbit hole that always seemed to land you right back in his bed, skin pressed together and air filled with unspoken promises that the two of you had finally gotten it right.

You never had.

But the idea was warm, like most dreams are. Tangled up through years of almost confessions and jealous rages, but by the time the stars settled in the sky, the two of you would be right back where you always were. In love, but not. Together, but alone. Committed to keeping the other for yourselves, but not willing to take the final plunge.

That’s how you found yourself tonight, red cup pressed into the palm of your hand as your lips curl up into a small smile while you pretend you are listening to the very animated story John B is giving you by the fire. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to listen. You found John B quite entertaining under normal circumstances and with the little comments sprinkled in from JJ and the warmth from the beer in your hand, you would normally be a giggling fool tripping over your feet to hear more.

Maybe you would have been if you hadn’t seen him walk in, all smug smiles and blue eyes as he makes his way around the party. He’s careful to move around your group. Not that you notice. Okay, you do notice. You always do. That’s his plan all along. After yet another argument about him not knowing how to actually apologize with his words instead of the ghost of his lips in the middle of the night, you had sworn you were done.

You were done.

He’s the one who showed up in the stupid blue button up you had gotten him for his birthday lifetimes ago, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and buttons undone knowing how you felt about how it made his eyes stand out. You’d have to be blind to not catch the watch wrapped snugly around his wrist, silver and flickering by the firelight with the unmistakable carving of your initials on the side of it. He was doing it on purpose. You knew he would play dirty. He always did. Avoiding you so that you would have to be the one to make the first move no matter who was in the wrong- even if it was almost always him.

So, you were ignoring him back. The glances you snuck in his direction were because you were still a girl at the end of the day. Enjoying the sight of him and caving were two very different things. Rafe Cameron is beautiful. He knows it. To make it worse, he knows you know it. You can’t let him win. Not this time. The longest the two of you have held out is three days.

Tonight is day four.

Your eyes leave his face again, turning your sight back to John B who just rolls his eyes playfully and dodges a stick that Kiara throws at him for some obscene comment he made when you were too busy staring at your- When you were busy staring at Rafe.

The beer is warm on your tongue, a little gross but just enough to keep your attention off of the way Rafe throws his head back to laugh at something Topper is saying to him, hand finding his shoulder. After the time you have spent away from each other, watching his fingers land on anybody else drops a stone in your stomach. He’s like a drug and you never really noticed how addicted you are until his hands aren’t on you. The cup in your hand is drained in an instant, earning you a cheer from JJ, who nudges your shoulder and effectively drops your cup right out of your hand.

“JJ, what the fuck. I was-”

“If you need another drink, baby, I’d be more than willing to help you out.”

You straighten up as the deep voice pops up from behind you, pressed so closely behind you that you can almost feel the words rattling around in his chest. You don’t turn around. Instead, you stand and watch as JJ makes a not-so apologetic face before he is shaking his head and grabbing John B, promises of keg stands and staying out of “relationship drama”.

As if you could even call it that.

Still, your chest floods with a warmth only he can give you. Not that you would let him know that. Especially not when you are still trying to prove a point. You’re stronger than him. Rafe Cameron is used to batting his eyelashes and getting what he wants. It’s no surprise when you finally turn yourself around and meet his eyes that what he has decided he wants is you.

“I’m all good,” you say quickly with the flash of a polite smile.

He smirks at you, tilting his head in that stupidly arrogant way that makes you unsure if you want to strangle him or marry him. He holds out a wine cooler to you, glass bottle extended out like a peace offering. It’s his way of apologizing. Coming over to you at a party is a first, but this isn’t. Gifts instead of him actually admitting that he was wrong. You won’t fall for it. No matter how nicely the light of the fire catches his face or how good he smells.

You just raise an eyebrow at him, crossing your arms over your chest. It’s a challenge. You both know that, and usually he would be ticking his jaw and throwing you over his shoulder. He hadn’t exactly made his affections for you a secret in public, one too many punches landing on the bodies of boys who hadn’t quite gotten the memo you were spoken for. Not that you could blame them. You never got one either.

Instead, he puts the bottle down on the log your friends had abandoned to give you space and wipes his hands off on his jeans. The two of you stand like that for a moment, ignoring the curious glances and quiet whispers of the crowds around you. You two weren’t strangers to the occasional public standoff, but those usually entailed the two of you just yelling at each other. Neither of you says anything. Just a staredown to see who is going to break first.

It’s always you. You had a weakness for pretty boys with soft smiles reserved just for you. Danger wrapped up in selective kindness that only found itself extended to you. You fell for it every time, and everyone knows you’ll fall for it again this time. It’s just a matter of when.

For the first time, he beats you to the punch.

“Tell me what you want,” he says, “I’ll give it to you. You know I will.”

The scoff is slipping through your lips before he finishes his sentence, partially in disbelief at him actually making the first move and the rest because he is standing in front of you again beating around the bush and not just owning his shit.

“There’s nothing you have that I want.”

The smile that breaks across is genuine, blue eyes shining in the darkness, and it makes your heart stop for just a second. Just a second. You won’t be broken by a pretty smile. Plenty of people smile. Your face flushing is because of the heat crackling beside you, not because of your- whatever he is.

“I’d say lying isn’t cute on you, but then I would be lying. Everything looks good on you. I would look even better-”

You shove at his chest, giving him a glare as you glance around at the ears that have perked up around you. You flip the first set of eyes you catch off, middle finger lingering in the air and earning a chuckle from the boy in front of you when the stranger turns away in embarrassment.

“What do you want, Rafe?”

You're tired of it now. The back and forth. He is doing exactly what he always does, and the space hasn’t changed anything. You know this isn’t how things should be. You need to get out of this before your resolve crumbles. You aren’t asking for a miracle, but the longer you stand this close to him, a miracle would be what they need to get you off of him.

“You.”

Quick. Simple. Said without thinking, and in a breath that sounds so sure that your heart soars. You allow it a second before you are snatching it back, shaking your head as you continue to stare at him.

“You’ve had me long enough.”

Your shoulder knocks into his as you brush past him, finally tearing your eyes away and setting your sights on the parking lot. You came to have a nice night, and you are about two seconds away from jumping his bones or jumping off a bridge.

Warm fingers wrap around your wrist, touch feather-light but grounding. You don’t turn around to look at him. Your resolve is breaking fast, and if you look at him for a second longer, you will forget about the apology you are wanting. He has a way of bringing you in, and you always let him.

“What do you want me to say?” he asks, giving your wrist a slight tug. He wants you to look at him, but you don’t give in. “That I’m sorry? I am. I’m sorry. I never wanted to make you feel like I’m not in this.”

Your shoulders drop, teeth biting into the inside of your lip. Tears are burning in your eyes, cheeks burning as the alcohol and his words both settle into your being. It’s an apology. Not a good one, but a first. Are firsts ever really good? You aren’t too sure as your mind focuses on the way his thumb traces a circle over your wrist.

“Or do you want me to say that I love you?”

You are stumbling away from him, snatching your wrist back against your chest, cradling it like his words sliced it somehow. Your eyes find him, searching for the punchline. He just looks back at you, eyes soft in a way that they only ever are for you in the safety of his bed. Never in public.

“Because I do,” he says.

You just stare at him, mouth open as you try to find something to say. You want to scream at him. Your palms itch to reach down and throw the sand underneath your feet at him. He can’t just meet your radio silence with his own for four days after the two of you have gone back and forth for so long and then stand here and confess at a party full of people you don’t even really know.

“You’re being mean.”

He shakes his head at your words, taking a step towards you. It’s just a little one, but when you allow it, suddenly he is standing inches from you. Blue eyes are staring down at you and suddenly the rest of the party is gone.

“I love you,” he says the words this time, “I’m tired of not saying it. Calling this what it is.”

“And what exactly do you think this is?”

The tone of your voice cuts through all of the warmth you are feeling. It’s too warm. You are going to melt standing here and you aren’t even standing next to the fire anymore. He’s too close. You two don’t do this. Feelings? Barely when you are alone. In public? Not happening.

Well, maybe not before. Tonight is different.

“You’re mine,” his voice is firm. “You just have to let yourself be.”

His hand finds yours again, pulling your wrist out of your palm and entangling your hands together. His fingers slide into yours like they have a million times. Maybe they have. He’s let it slip before that you were made for him, but it’s moments like these where you think maybe he could be made for you.

He’s right. You are his. You always have been. The two of you have run from each other for so long that you aren’t sure you actually know how to stop. He is standing in front of you, holding your hand and offering you exactly what you have always wanted. The ache in your chest is deep, heart rate thundering in your ears, but for the first time, your feet are planted underneath you.

“You can’t take it back.”

His laugh floods you with warmth, the ache in your chest settling as he tugs you forward, free hand coming to rest on the back of your neck. You are surrounded by him, his forehead touching yours as he breathes you in for what feels like the first time in a lifetime and you find that you aren’t dreading the morning already.

For the first time, the two of you are really standing together and nobody is walking away.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

And when your lips touch his, you find yourself thinking that maybe this is what forever can feel like.

#rafe cameron x reader #obx #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe outer banks #outerbanks rafe #outerbanks #outer banks

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chanelrolls · 2 months ago

Text

kneel, caleb.

synopsis. your subordinate, caleb, has always been the ideal employee. but appearances deceive, don't they? there's no way your perfect junior is a massive perv... spoiler alert: he is.

content. afab!fem reader, office au, caleb pov, creepy & obsessive behavior, gaslighting, unsactioned spying, perverse actions, workplace malpractice, masturbation, p in v, oral (f!receiving), mouthspitting, desk sex, caleb is just an overall gross stalker, could be dubcon.

READ AT UR OWN RISK !

a/n. hi! just wanna give a heads-up that caleb might be a liiiittle ooc here since i wanted to try a powerplay dynamic between him and you, with caleb formerly being the bottom. basically, a pathetic yearning submissive!caleb :3 (but he'll dom in the end)

wc. 4k

The hum of the office printers and the soft taps of the keyboards were the routine background music to Caleb's workday. It was a monotonous cadence that had long since stopped to register in his head.

Today, though, those sounds felt like a mocking grate.

He sat at his desk, trying to silence the pounding of his heartbeat. His crisp khaki shirt clung to his broad shoulders down to his back from a sheen of sweat. Then, his fingers, usually so precise, trembled over the keyboard.

He had meant to print the latest client proposal for his superior, you, to review. Such a simple request, and yet, he had fucked up. In a catastrophic lapse of his usual meticulousness, a single, misplaced keystroke had sent his most lewd and explicit writings to the communal printer. Pages upon pages of detailed smut that featured him splitting you wide open on his cock. The printer that everyone, including his manager, used. Sheet by damning sheet were now spilling out for the entire world to see.

Fuck. How could I mix up the damn files? Why didn’t I double-check?

He berated himself internally for the slip up. Propelled into action by sheer panic, Caleb shot up from his chair. His typically measured stride broke into an uncharacteristic sprint, each urgent step towards the printer room amplifying the dread that clutched at his throat.

Throughout, his mind was ablaze with the potential fallout; the scandal would be career-ending, soul-crushing. His perfect professional image, the one he had so carefully constructed, was on the brink of shattering.

All because of a fucking misclick.

As he neared the doorway, time seemed to contort, stretching the seconds into lifetimes. His only hope was to snatch away the filth before any eyes, especially those of his superior, could take it in.

But as fate would have it, the universe conspired against him. Just as he was about to lunge for the papers, a silhouette appeared in the doorway.

You.

Oh, fuck me.

With no time to think and everything to lose, Caleb settled for a risky plan. His stride slowed, attempting nonchalance. "Ah, Y/n, just the person I was hoping to catch," he blurted out, his voice a strained mimicry of casualness.

"There's been a slight hiccup with the proposal I was printing for you. It seems the printer has pulled the wrong file from the queue." The lie was a gamble, a last-ditch effort to deflect from the horror of the situation. "I'll sort this out and bring the correct one to your office shortly. My apologies for the inconvenience."

His plea to the deities was silent, desperate: Take the bait. Please, for the love of God, take the fucking bait, don’t question it, and walk away.

There was just no plausible explanation for why he had multiple pages describing you as his pathetic cock sleeve, stupid cum rag, bitch in heat, and other similar obscene names.

Caleb refrained from allowing his eyes to dart towards the incriminating evidence hanging from the printer tray like a sordid tapestry, not wanting to draw further attention to it. Standing rigidly, every fibre of his being willed you to accept his words, to leave the room without a second glance. His future, his reputation, his very sanity hung in the balance, suspended by the slender thread of a hastily conjured lie.

You paused at the doorway, brow furrowing slightly as you take in Caleb's flustered state. His shirt was a bit rumpled, hair slightly disheveled, and his eyes had an oddly unusual stern look. It was a far cry from his usual put-together demeanor. You couldn't help but notice the way his gaze darted nervously to the printer and back to you.

Something's not right here.

"A hiccup?" you asked, arching an eyebrow. "I don't have time for printer malfunctions, Caleb. I need that proposal on my desk within the hour." Your voice came firm, a subtle undercurrent of warning beneath the professional tone.

Caleb swallowed hard, feeling the weight of your gaze like a physical pressure on his chest. Fuck, she's not buying it, he panicked internally.

"Of course, I apologize for the delay. I assure you, it will be resolved shortly," he replied, his voice strained. He was wracking his brain for a way to salvage this situation. He couldn't let you see the depravity spilling from the printer, the explicit details of his obsession with you splayed out for all to see.

Desperate, he took a step closer to you, his hand outstretched in a placating gesture. "Perhaps we could discuss the changes you wanted to the proposal in your office? I have a few...notes I jotted down earlier that I think you'll find useful," he said, his tone a careful balance of deference and subtle manipulation.

If I can just get her out of here, away from the printer and those fucking papers, I can contain this disaster.

You hesitated for a moment, eyes narrowing as you studied Caleb's face. You couldn't shake the feeling that he was hiding something, that there was an undercurrent of desperation in his manner. But the mention of the changes you had requested gave you a pause. You did need the proposal, and if Caleb had the notes, then perhaps it was better to hear him out in the privacy of your office.

"Very well," you said finally, turning on your heel. "But make it quick, please. I have a meeting in thirty minutes that I can't miss."

As you walked out, Caleb felt a wave of relief wash over him. That was too fucking close. He turned to the printer, his hands shaking as he gathered up the incriminating pages, stuffing them into his briefcase. I can't let her see this, I can't let anyone see this, he repeated like a mantra.

You settle into the plush leather chair behind your desk. You watched as Caleb hurried in after you, his movements hurried and frazzled. He was acting even stranger than before, eyes darting around your office nervously.

He's up to something. But what?

"Alright, Caleb, let's see these notes you mentioned," you hold out your hand expectantly. You leaned forward, elbows on your desk, and fixed him with a penetrating stare.

Caleb swallowed hard. His mouth suddenly felt dry. Think, you fucking idiot, think. He berated himself. He couldn't show you the real notes, not with the depraved shit he'd written about you splashed all over them.

"Ah, yes, of course," he stammered, fumbling with his briefcase. In truth, he was buying time, trying to come up with a plausible lie.

I can't let her see those pages, I can't let her know how I've been fantasizing about her, he thought desperately. But I need to give her something to keep her off my trail.

In a moment of inspiration, he pulled out a sheet of paper, scrawling a few generic notes about the proposal. It was thin, but it would have to do.

"Here," he hands you the sheet. "I thought we could lead with the data analysis section, highlight the key insights that drive the strategy. And perhaps emphasize the cost-saving initiatives on the next page to frame the financial benefits..." He droned on, his voice taking on a professional cadence. But inside, his mind was becoming a whirlwind of panic and lust.

Even during such a moment, Caleb couldn't help himself but to trail his eyes down the perfect curve of your neckline, and then to the flawless skin of your cleavage that had let itself expose through a few undone buttons. I just want to bend her over this desk and fuck her until she screams. Show her who the real boss is. His gaze continued to rove over your form, before swallowing. He couldn't act on those urges, not now. Not ever. He had to keep up this charade, had to maintain the illusion of the perfect, dedicated employee.

Play it cool, Caleb, he told himself. Don't let her see how crazy you are about her.

You listened to his suggestions, expression inscrutable. You, again, felt like he was holding something back, that there was a hidden agenda behind his words. But the notes, flimsy as they were, could work.

You lean back in your chair. "Those are...adequate," you set the single sheet of notes down on the desk. "But I seem to recall you mentioning you had more than just this. Hand them over please." your tone left no room for argument, and you fixed him with a stare that dared him to disobey.

Caleb felt his stomach drop as you demanded the rest of the notes. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She's not letting this go.

He knew he should refuse and make up an excuse, anything to keep you from seeing the depraved writings that filled the rest of the pages. But the words stuck in his throat, and he found himself reaching into his briefcase once more, fingers brushing against the paper.

Maybe if I just give her a little taste, she'll be satisfied and wouldn't question further. Maybe she won't look too closely.

With a shaking hand, he passed some of the papers to you, his heart hammering against his ribs while you took it from him. He watched you flip open the cover and began to read.

At first, your expression remained impassive, eyes merely scanning the lines of neat lines of words. But as you turned another page, he saw a flicker of confusion cross your face.

You blushed.

Oh god.

Cute.

But, wait, fuck, she's seeing it, he thought, a wave of nausea rising in his throat. She's seeing all the filthy things I've written about her!

"Caleb...what're these?"

No.

Kill me.

"Did you write these...?" You breathed, holding up the paper with trembling fingers.

No, I didn't. Well, yes, I did. But, no.

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He was frozen, paralyzed by the sheer, gut-wrenching terror of being exposed. He had crossed a line, and he knew there was no going back. His career, his reputation, everything he had worked so hard to build, was about to come crashing down around him.

I'm fucked, he thought, his heart sinking into the pit of his stomach. I'm so fucked.

Just as the tension between you reached a fever pitch, the office door suddenly swung open, and a co-worker pokes her head in. "Excuse me! I have that report you asked for," She announced, oblivious to the charged atmosphere. She breezed in, setting a folder on your desk. "Sorry for the interruption, but this is really urgent."

You blinked, startled by the interference. Then, you glanced at your watch, cursing under your breath when you realized the time.

"I have to go," you stood up from your desk, not sparing Caleb a glance. The papers were already slipped into one of the compartments of your worktable.

Caleb stood frozen as the two women exited the office, leaving him alone with his racing thoughts.

Later that night, as you sat in your dimly lit condo, unwinding from the stressful day, Caleb was hunched over his laptop in his own apartment. His fingers trembled as he clicked through the surveillance feed, and watched you.

He had installed a small camera inside the teddy bear he had gifted you months ago, a "joke" present that you had accepted with a polite smile and a strained laugh. At the time, he had told himself it was just a harmless prank, a way to make you smile. But deep down, he had known the truth - it was a way to invade your privacy, to make you his in a way that you could never know.

Now, as he watched you move around the room, the soft glow of the lamp casting shadows across your face, he felt a thrill of excitement and fear. You were so close, so real, and yet so utterly unaware of his presence.

He zoomed in, the image blurring slightly once he focused on your face, on the way your lips moved as you read a book, oblivious to his gaze.

Mine.

Caleb shuts his eyes for a second.

You aren't here for that, Caleb.

He still couldn't forget the look on his manager's face upon stumbling over the depraved fantasies he had long since kept hidden. He swore he saw a blush forming across your cheeks when you did. Did she like it? Could there have been a chance?

No, weirdo.

He had been told by you to talk in your office by tomorrow morning, and he didn't need any further explanation. Because he knows he's about to get reprimanded for what he had done. But watching you through the camera, fingers resting against the philtrum of his mouth, a flicker of hope sparked in his chest.

You wouldn't dare fire him. You needed him.

As Caleb watched, transfixed by the scene unfolding on his laptop screen, you suddenly paused in your reading. Caleb curiously leans back. You reached into the leather bag on your nightstand, your fingers rummaging around before emerging with a familiar-looking set of pages.

Oh.

Caleb's heart leapt into his throat as he recognized the documents, it was the very same set of perverse writings he had given you earlier that day, the ones you had left in your desk before being called away to the meeting. Somehow, you had taken them home with you, and now you were reading them in the privacy of your own bedroom.

Caleb studies your reactions. She must think I'm a sick, twisted freak.

You sat down on the edge of your bed, crossing your legs and biting your nails while you scanned the lines of his obsession. The expression on your face was hard to decipher, but it didn't show any hint of revulsion nor disgust. If anything, you looked quite... interested. And it made Caleb squint his eyes into a pair of half-lidded ones. Or could she be enjoying what I wrote for her?

He knew he shouldn't do this, especially when his career is already on the line. But he found it hard to resist when you're there.

You're there, sitting cross-legged on the bed while being confronted by the true depths of his desire. Showing the skin of your legs by wearing a pair of short shorts, showing that supple fucking skin he had been longing to touch.

Caleb reached down.

Your hair is so perfect, it falls on all the right places. Your neckline, one of his favorites, seemed to tease him a little more right now than usual. Not in a dramatic, romantic way, no. In a suffocating, painful way, as if his ribs constricted each time you tucked a strand behind your ear. Your lashes, long and curled like they belonged in oil paintings, cast shadows over your cheeks that Caleb studied too often. He knew the exact angle at which the light struck your skin to make it glow. He’d memorized it, hoarded it.

Caleb's breathing grew ragged palming himself through the rough fabric of his pants.

You weren't just beautiful. You were specific. A kind of cruel perfection stitched together from his glances, the curve of your shoulder in a nightgown, the slight press of your lips as you read. Hell, your voice, too. Your voice wasn’t just soft, it was a sound that haunted him long after meetings. It echoed inside him with maddening clarity.

She's mine. Caleb unbuckled his belt, adam's apple bobbing down out of guilt. Guilt and excitement. She doesn't know it yet, but she's mine.

With a strangled groan, he kept his eyes on you, stroking himself faster, stroking himself with urgent movements.

"Fuck," He sighs, rolling his head back. One hand squeezing the base of his cock, the other folded above his forehead. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, just like that..." It was so wrong. He knew he was gross for acting like this, but the indecency of it all only seemed to heighten his arousal.

Leaning forward, Caleb opens the first compartment of his table, grabbing something from the inside. He quickly pushes it back close, holding up the item in his hand before bringing it to his nose. Your red, laced panty.

Smells so fucking divine.

He takes his time sniffing it, eyes shut. How and where'd he get it? That's a different story. Right now, the focus lies on how Caleb brings the piece of fabric in the other hand he used for stroking, wrapping it around his shaft. And then, he jerks himself off with your panty.

Caleb moaned.

"Fuck me." He stares at you on his laptop screen through half-lidded, lust-filled eyes. You had already stopped reading, standing up to do your self-care routine that Caleb had gone used to by watching it every single night.

First, serum. And then, moisturizer. Then, face gel.

You dropped the tube on the floor, and you had to crouch down and bend over to reach for it when it rolled down your bed.

Caleb tensed. Shit.

He picked up the pace, grunting and moaning, a sheen of sweat forming in the pits of his clavicle, rolling down to wet the neckline of his shirt. "I'm gunna cum, baby—" And he did. He came hard, his body shuddering as he watched the juices spill out from the tip, shooting out to the laptop screen, to the keyboard, everywhere.

He lets his head finally fall back in a dramatic swing, chasing his breath.

Even as he masturbated to your panty every night, to you through the camera, he would never be able to satisfy himself entirely unless it's your pussy squeezing his dick.

Caleb sighed. Now that you've found out about the smut that he'd been compiling, he wonders how long would it take before you find out the categorized files in his USB drive, filled with pictures he'd taken and stolen of you without consent. How long would it take before you see the altar of your printed photographs across his wall, scribbled by a red marker of hearts. And to the lockbag of your hairstrands he'd find when he cleans your office.

There's no way you'd suspect him further. After all, Caleb had always been the model employee. Everybody in the corporate looked up to him, admired him.

There's no way he was actually a massive pervert who stalked you and obsessed with you to death.

Caleb felt like a man walking to his own execution as he crossed the threshold to your office. He adjusted his tie, then smoothed his shirt. His hands were sweating, so he wiped them down on his slacks before stepping in furthermore. And every step felt like a countdown to combustion.

There you were, a figure sculpted by dominance and grace. You didn't look up right away, just gestured toward the seat across your desk, as you slowly closed a folder in a deliberate manner.

Caleb sat frozen.

He could barely feel the chair under him, only the thundering echo of his heart in his ears. Somehow, the room felt too warm. No, maybe, it was you. The way you moved around the desk, unhurried, and impossibly close now.

He kept his eyes down.

Don’t look at her. Don’t make it worse. Don’t ruin this.

But his body betrayed him, as always. Every sense strained toward your presence- the soft scuff of your heels, the faintest trace of your perfume- it pulled at something in him that he had tried to suppress for months. No, years.

She knows.

God, she knows.

The fantasies, the language he used, the devotion pressed into every word of those wretched pages. You had seen it all. There was no salvaging his image now. Not the image he had so carefully constructed. The polished, respectful, reliable subordinate. The ideal employee who never overstepped, never strayed, who served you with silent loyalty.

Tch. As if you didn't jerk your cock off to her last night.

A fraud.

And yet, even as shame licked at the edges of his chest like fire, part of him thrilled in it. Because you knew, and you had read it. And you called him here.

"Did you enjoy writing them?" You finally spoke.

His throat tightened. "…Yes."

God, he hated himself for it, but he meant it. Every line was a prayer. Every fantasy was a cathedral built in your image. He’d written them in the quiet of the night, behind locked doors, whispering your name in a confession. And now, he sat like a sinner at your altar, awaiting judgment.

"Do you fantasize about me often, Caleb?" Your voice came quiet- careful not to pique any curious ears from outside your office- but it pierced right through him.

He looked up, and it was a mistake.

Because one look on your ravishing beauty was enough to make him feel his pulse throb in his neck, enough to give him the bold will to admit everything he had ever kept.

"I—" he tried, then paused. Of course, he couldn't lie. Not to you. "Yes."

Caleb dropped his gaze once more.

Say something. Apologize. Beg, Caleb!

But his mouth wouldn't open. His thoughts were nothing but swirled, messy, undignified: Touch me. Destroy me. Just don’t send me away.

What frightened him most wasn’t your punishment, but the possibility of your indifference. That you might turn cold, dismiss him, begin to look at him like he meant nothing.

He would rather burn than having to endure such a thing.

"I understand if I need to be...reassigned," he said at last, breaking through the silence like glass. "I’ll submit the request myself." But even as he said it, his chest screamed don’t go. Don’t let her push you away. Please.

Caleb didn’t move when you circled back to your desk and sat down slowly, with all the calm of someone entirely in control. You reached into your desk drawer.

Instantly, he recognized the sound of the papers before he saw it. Those cursed, damning papers. The one that held every word he'd bled onto the page in a haze of desire and delusion. You placed it neatly on the desk, right in front of you, then tapped it once with your finger.

"Read it."

What?

Caleb’s head snapped up, eyes wide. He blinked. "I’m sorry?"

Your gaze didn’t falter. “Out loud. All of it.”

Silence expanded like smoke. He couldn’t breathe.

The humiliation hit him first- a visceral, gut-wrenching kind. His entire body recoiled at the thought. Every word in that set was an exposure and a betrayal of all the control he tried so hard to keep. The fantasies weren’t gentle. They weren’t clean. They were obsessive and creepy and dirty.

But beneath that terror...

Oh god, he wanted to obey.

To surrender.

To give you everything you asked for, even this.

His hands moved slowly, hesitantly, before he took the set of pages. Caleb licked his lips. “I…”

Your voice cut through him like a blade. “Begin.”

He inhaled shakily. The words clung to his throat. "...'I don’t remember the last night I slept without h-her shadow on my ceiling. I think about her every morning before I put on this mask. The perfect subordinate. She doesn’t know I would burn this entire company down for five minutes alone with her in a room where I’m not beneath her title. Where I-I’m not just her assistant. But that’s just fantasy... isn’t it?'"

His voice cracked on the last line, hands gripping the paper tighter. Don’t stop. You can’t stop now. She asked for this.

“…‘I watched her pour coffee in the break room once, and my hands clenched so tight I left nail marks in my palm. Because I thought, uhm- what if she told me to... kneel? I would, without shame. I would even thank her for it.” He could feel his own face burning, chest tight with breathless exhilaration.

You still hadn’t interrupted. You were listening intently.

And that, somehow, was the most unbearable part.

Caleb swallowed again. “…‘S-Sometimes I pretend she’s already mine. In my head, I undo her buttons. One by one. I trace the hollow of her throat with the same precision I use to format her spreadsheets. I press my mouth to her skin and whisper everything I’ve never said aloud.’”

The words hung in the air, and Caleb's voice had stopped trembling. Rather, it had settled into a lower tone, as if he had crossed an invisible threshold and found himself oddly unafraid.

You sat back in your chair, as if reclining into a throne you’d claimed without effort. You let the silence stretch, then reached for it like a violinist would a bowstring. “Well,” you began, “That was almost poetic, Caleb. I wasn’t expecting you to be such a romantic.”

No response.

So you talked again. "But that was only the second page, wasn’t it?" You gently tapped your nails on the papers. "There are more. Many more, much more explicit and... less reverent."

Caleb's eyes finally lifted, cautiously, like the weight of them had to be managed.

Gone was the nervous boy you summoned into your office. Because in his place stood a man unraveling at his own pace.

"I wonder," you mused, tapping a finger to your chin, "were those written before or after the one where you wrote about bending me over my own desk with your belt around my wrists?"

To your surprise, Caleb didn't flinch.

Instead, he reached forward, closed the pages with a definitive sound, and slid it across your desk- never once breaking eye contact.

Fine. If you want more, I'll give you more.

Then he smiled.

But you won't come out of your office untouched.

Not the polite, warm smile he usually shows you when you walk past each other, no. It was something colder, sleek. Like the moment a knife catches light. "Would you like me to read that one too, Y/n?"

You arched a brow, mildly amused by the sudden shift. But you didn't speak. Not yet.

Caleb moved to stand up, a single deliberate action that suggested something had changed between the two of you. "I can recite it from memory," he says, "If you prefer."

It was your turn to swallow.

"I wrote those pages to survive you," Caleb lowered his lashes. "To avoid myself from doing something... irresponsible." and then, he stepped forward. "Now, you're asking me to read them and revisit every word. So if this is what you want, Y/n-" he rests both of his hands against your desk, leaning forward. "Then you don't get to act surprised if I stop playing the nice guy."

There was a long pause, and you didn't fill it.

But Caleb noticed the way your throat moved when you gulped, the way your hands began to clench themselves.

You were wavering.

And he, who had once trembled under the weight of your attention, now stood taller. Still bound by his shirt and tie, yes- but no longer leashed by fear. "I won’t read them."

Your eyes narrowed a fraction. "Excuse me?"

"I don’t need to," Caleb slowly began to circle your desk, approaching you closer, and it made you unconsciously back away. "The ones you’re thinking of… I know those by heart."

He had grown into his obsession.

Into yours, apparently.

This was utterly inappropriate and absurd. You knew better. And yet, you stared up at him like you were the one caught, like you were the one awaiting permission. And Caleb... Caleb merely looked down at you, head slightly tilted.

With a measured grace, Caleb dropped to one knee, eyes never leaving yours.

And you, to your own horror, didn't look away. Because you should've stood up, said his name in a warning. You should've reprimanded him in a professional way. Not whatever this is. But instead, you sat still.

Caleb's palms slid, languidly, up the length of your calves. He inhaled softly. God.

"I rememer writing about this one," His fingers paused just below your knees, and you could feel how long they were through your stockings. The sheer audacity of him, touching you with that same calm he used in reports and presentations, made you pick up your breathing. "You leaned back in this very chair, and you parted your legs. Just a bit. Enough to make me desperate and beg."

You stopped breathing.

"You watched me as I touched you," His index finger teased the hem of your thigh-high. "Slower than I wanted to. And when I couldn't take it anymore..." He smiled faintly, cruelly. "I took your skirt off, I took your panties off, and I took your virginity."

Then, he presses his lips against your knee, inhaling your scent once more. I want to fuck this woman already. God, please let me. He shuts his eyes, then slowly, made his way to the upper area of your thigh with his mouth.

You almost whimpered, fingers gripping tightly on the armrests of your chair.

"I went with eating you out. I licked your pussy, sucked your clit, and you moaned, Y/n, you grabbed my hair and-" Caleb opens his eyes, and looks up at you. "You came right into my mouth."

You grabbed his necktie and pulled him closer, which catches him off guard.

He stared at you, stunned- for once, without something ready to say. His chest rose and fell with the quiet force of someone whose fantasy had just collided, violently, with reality.

Caleb swallowed.

Nonetheless, his voice returned low, strained with a trembling thrill. "Do you want me to recreate it?"

You didn't respond.

So he reached out, his hands trembling slightly as they slid up your thighs, pushing your skirt up to reveal the lacy edge of your panties. He leaned in, burying his face against the soft fabric, inhaling deeply the scent of you, a heady mix of your natural aroma and the faint perfume of your lotion. Fuck.

Unable to resist any longer, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and slowly dragged them down your legs. As they fell to the floor, he tossed them aside carelessly.

You told yourself it's just this once, and though you knew that it's a weak attempt of justification, you repeated it inside your head. Just this once. Then you'll end this madness.

Caleb seemed to sense your hesitation, and he pressed his advantage, bruhing his lips against your bare folds in the lightest of kisses. The touch was electric, sending a jolt of sensation shooting up your spine. "Please," he breathed, his tongue darting out to trace the seam of your pussy lips, teasing the sensitive flesh. "Let me taste you."

Just this once, he thought, just this once and then I'll end this. I swear I will.

"Then do it," you commanded. "Show me what a devoted servant you are."

Oh.

Caleb didn't hesitate. He immediately buried his face between your thighs, his mouth covering your most intimate area as he began to eat you out with desperate hunger. His tongue delved between your folds, stroking and probing at the slick, heated flesh.

"Mmm, s'good-" he groaned into you, the vibrations of his voice sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating through your core. God, she tastes even better than I fucking imagined.

He sealed his lips around your clit and suckled hard, his tongue flicking rapidly over the sensitive bud. His hands gripped your thighs while at it, pulling you harder against his face as he feasted on you, his moans growing louder and more wanton by the second.

God, help me or I'm going to lose control.

Caleb's cock throbbed almost painfully in the confines of his pants, the intense taste of your arousal making him harder than he had ever been in his life. He ached to free himself, to stroke his aching flesh while he pleasured you, but he resisted the urge. This moment was about you, about worshipping your body and bringing you to the heights of ecstasy.

That's it, baby. Come for me.

When Caleb looked up at you, he looked like a boy lost in a dream, looking wholly out of place in his loosened tie and undone collar.

You had come into his mouth within a blink of an eye.

Thick vanilla streaks now clung to the corner of his mouth, a smear just beneath his bottom lip, the pale sheen catching the lights of your office.

His lips parted slightly, face flushed. He looked up at you like he wanted you to see how the haze within his eyes strayed farther from innocence. Like he knew exactly what he looked like, mess and all.

Your fingers reached out and brushed lightly against the corner of his mouth. One soft sweep. Then another, slow and deliberate, catching the trail that had slipped down toward his chin. Your thumb dragged across his lower lip last, then paused at the center.

Caleb didn't move.

He only exhaled shakily, lashes fluttering once as he stared into your beauty. His mouth stayed slightly open, as if daring you to go further. Then, in the heat of the moment, he rises up to gently grab your chin with all of his fingers. "Will you let me do anything to you?"

You nod, wordlessly.

"Open your mouth then." He whispers, and when you did, he spits into it. You shut your eyes, breath hitching. Caleb sighed at the sight of his own saliva pooling in your mouth, this time he's the one wiping away the drool with his thumb. "You're gonna be the death of me, woman."

It didn't take long before the two of you agreed on fucking in your office.

You're bent over your own worktable ridiculously, struggling to get a better grip on the edge while you could feel the cock of your subordinate incessantly piercing through the slit of your pussy. "Caleb, slow down-"

"I can't hear you." He slams it deep that it pounds against the flesh of your womb. The pleasure elicits a whiny moan out of you, and in response, Caleb behind you grabs your face to cover your mouth. Of course, you wouldn't want your co-workers hearing you. You wouldn't want them exposing a scandal between the manager and her own subordinate, right? "So goddamn tight."

Like she was made for my dick.

And then, he increases the pace.

Caleb lifts your ass up higher to angle himself better, before repetitively pounding you down the table with a mind of a machine that focused on an objective to cum in your sex.

He pulls out, and in again. Again, and again, and again, and again.

Faster, deeper, harder, he shuts his eyes and rolls his head back at the feeling of being squeezed by your very walls. Oh, he could get used to this sensation for decades. He could feel your body tensing, your walls fluttering around his pistoning cock while he fucked you with wild abandon. He knew you were close, because he could hear it in the desperate, keening cries that spilled from your lips with each brutal thrust.

With a sharp cry, your body convulsed beneath him, your pussy clenching down on him like a vice when you came undone. He felt your juices gushing around his shaft, soaking his cock and balls as you rode out the waves of the intense orgasm.

I can't stop.

But even as he felt you spasming around him, he didn't let up. He couldn't bring himself to stop the relentless assault on your pussy. He was driven by a primal need to keep you in a state of constant, mindless ecstasy, to make you forget about everything except the feeling of his cock splitting you open again and again.

I can't seem to stop.

Caleb hooked one of your legs over his elbow, the new angle allowing him to plunge even deeper into your still-quivering pussy. He could feel your slick walls fluttering around his pistoning shaft, trying in vain to adjust to the relentless invasion.

Fuck, I'm so deep inside her...

He could hear the obscene, wet sounds of your coupling filling the room, the slap of skin against skin and the squelch of your arousal with each brutal thrust. I'm going to fuck her hard like this everyday. He bit his lip, then opens his mouth to exhale desperately. So hard, and deep, that she can't look at another man without thinking of me.

He could feel his orgasm building to a crescendo, his balls drawing up tight as he slammed into you faster, the force of his thrusts shaking the desk beneath you. He could tell he was close just from the telltale tightening in his gut that signaled his impending release.

I'm going to cum.

With one final, savage thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside you. I'm cumming in this perfect fucking cunt. His cock pulsed and throbbed as he exploded inside you. He could feel his hot seed gushing forth that painted your insides with thick, virile ropes of his essence. "Take that all."

Caleb collapsed against you for a moment, his sweat-slicked chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. He could feel the aftershocks of his intense orgasm still rippling through him.

You weren't sure anymore if you could resist seeing this man each day.

You feel his fingers tucking the wet strands of your hair behind your ear, before placing a kiss on your temple. "You think we're done already?" He chuckles deeply, rising back up and grabbing your hips. "I'm still about to fuck you against that window."

And after that, in the elevator. Then, in my car. And then, in the public restroom. All of those, in one day.

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