au: hi loves happy day 4 of kinkmas. this one absolutely ran away from me in the best possible way. thank you for all the love on this series so far! you’re the sweetest little holiday gift ever and i hope this one makes you kick your feet a little.
happy reading & happy kinkmas
now playing: christmas (baby please come home) by michael bublé
the daily planet’s holiday party looks like someone threw christmas into a blender and hit purée. tinsel lie everywhere and blinking lights that look like they’re sending distress signals. someone in advertising is wearing a full elf suit with bells on it and shockingly perry white is already on his third glass of the “editorial-strength punch,” which means perry white is effectively down for the count.
you exhale and tuck yourself into a corner of the bullpen, balancing a paper plate of gingerbread cookies and mentally preparing for battle. you like christmas, you truly do but crowds make your shoulders inch up toward your ears. you just wanted cookies, a quiet wall, and maybe to watch clark kent exist from a safe distance like the walking emotional comfort blanket he is. also: he promised he’d meet you here tonight.
but you don’t see him yet, mentally cursing yourself for being so into him. it’s fine! totally fine! you think as your brain immediately shoots back to the tray of cookies in your hands. before you can even take a bite of your sugar cookie, letting the vanilla and cinnamon hit your tongue someone steps directly into your line of vision. "wow!" the guy says, smiling like he’s been waiting his whole life to be annoying. "you must be new! i would’ve remembered someone like you."
he beams as he looks you once over, you want to frown but you fake it til you make it. 'great, a pick-up line wrapped in cologne that arrived three seconds before he did.' you think as you come up with a reply on the spot. "uh." you say politely, "i work in features." you even smile a little friendly, approachable eve because you’re not rude. he steps closer. way too close. "features."
he repeats, like the word owes him money. "guess i should read that more often." and you take a tiny step back but he takes a even bigger step forward. 'annoying, the nerve of this guy.' your brain screams. not dangerous, but annoying enough to spark a brilliant, terrible idea in your head. use him as clark-bait.
you school your face into a perfect 'oh no i’m trapped' expression, widening your eyes just enough to look helpless. you tilt your chin up at the guy, like you’re cornered. but in your head, you’re chanting: 'okay clark, please. now would be a great time to look over here. come on. come save me, pretty boy!'
you glance around subtly, pretending to scan for an exit. what you don’t see: someone across the room freezing mid-conversation. what you don’t feel: the shift in air. but clark sees you. and clark sees him leaning over you and that’s when clark kent ever the farmboy, sweetheart, softest human alive completely stops pretending he’s unaffected and goes very, very still.
lois elbows him in the ribs. "kent? your glasses are fogging...breathe." he inhales through his nose. it doesn’t help, not when you smell like vanilla again that warm, sweet scent he memorized without meaning to. "should i go over there?" he asks, voice too tight. lois raises a brow. "do you want to?" he doesn’t answer, he doesn’t need to. because the guy leans one hand against the wall beside your head, and clark is already moving.
a quiet, determined glide through the crowd, all six feet of him locked onto you like you’re the only thing keeping the earth on its axis. "so," the man says, leaning closer, "you busy after this? we could—" he's cut off swiftly by clark's charming, "hey." his warm voice cuts in, deep and honey-sweet. you exhale in dramatic relief, partly real, partly the performance of the century.
as clark steps beside you, sleeves rolled, tie crooked, flannel peeking under his coat. "i’ve been looking for you." he says, like the rest of the room doesn’t exist. you blink up at him, playing innocent. "oh, you have?" clark nods. well... yeah. i saved you a mug of the good hot chocolate before jimmy added… whatever he added." he blinked baffled, the guy clears his throat. "we were talking."
clark doesn’t look threatening. he never does, he kind of just smiles kindly. with absolutely nothing behind it except a silent promise of: walk away. "oh, sorry were you?" clark asks softly. the guy stutters something that might have been yes, or sorry, or goodbye, and nearly trips over a decorative candy cane on his way out.
you wait three beats, just long enough for the guy to fully retreat — then let your shoulders slump in exaggerated exhaustion. "thank you." you whisper. "i thought he’d never leave." clark frowns, not angryily or concerned but focused. protective in that way that melts your bones a little. "was he bothering you?" clark asks, guiding you away from the crowd with a gentle hand on your back. "you looked… uncomfortable."
you bite your lip, eyes big, playing up the helpless act. "yeah..." you say softly. "i didn’t know how to get out of it." clark’s eyes darken behind his glasses. "well, you can always call me." he murmurs. "you don’t have to handle that alone." and your chest flips, it feels warm. "i know." you say, voice small and with a smile, "that’s why i kept looking around. i just… hoped you’d see."
clark stops walking. "you were looking for me?" he nearly chokes, you simply nod, your heart thundering under your chest at the admitance. "i always do." and if clark wasn't already jealous, protective and tense. boy, he sure is now. his voice drops low, "sweetheart, if ever someone makes you uncomfortable. i'm not going to let that slide. never." your breath catches at this new side of him.
'sweetheart.' he didn't even notice he had said that. "i just... didn't think he was flirting." your lie rolls off smoothly, because the bit isn't over yet for you. "i thought he was just being nice." you shrugged but clark just stares at you like the sky suddenly turned green.
"you... you didn't notice?" his exhale is harsh, he looks away and looks back. "notice what?" your soft playing coy and unattentive. "that he was flirting with you." he flatly says "hard." your eyebrows shoot up. "oh, really??"clark looks personally offended by your confusion. "yes." he huffs out shaking his head.
“but… why?” the expression he makes is somewhere between heartbroken and absolutely in love with you. "sweetheart..." he murmurs his voice softening. "have you seen yourself?" you swallow as you try to calm your reply, "i… didn’t know you noticed." he smiles, it's small, shy, devastating. "i notice everything you do." your knees nearly give out.
clark’s confession is quiet, unassuming, earth-shaking and just hangs between you like a pulled thread. you’re afraid to breathe in case it snaps. "you… notice everything?" you echo, voice tinier than intended to come out. clark swallows, adam’s apple bobbing. "i mean..." he rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed to his bones. "i try not to stare. but you, um… make that difficult." he says shyly as your brain immediately begins to overheat and reboot like a computer system.
"me!?" your voice squeaks out, clark huffs out a soft laugh. he glances down at you through his dark lases with that impossible combination of gentleness and desperation he doesn't even know he leaks. "yes, you." voice gentle and soft like those early city mornings. the words wrap around you like the big red scarf still draped over his arm.
the one he wore here but hasn’t had the heart to put back on since he gave it to you the second you stepped into the cold hallway. you tug the edge of the scarf around your shoulders. "clark, i… i didn’t mean to worry you." he stops walking again, his breath fogging in the air. snow drifting in lazy spirals outside the glass windows.
"you didn’t." he says instantly. "you couldn’t." you raise an eyebrow at his confession. "i couldn’t?" clark looks shy suddenly. "i mean—i always want to be there, for you! even if you aren't uncomfortable. even if you’re just… bored. or lost. or pretending someone is bothering you so i’ll come over.”
your stomach drops. how— how did he know? "wh—what makes you think i was pretending?" you ask, trying not to crack. clark tilts his head, gives you that reporter stare he usually reserves for corrupt billionaires and suspiciously cheap apartment landlords. "you’re a terrible actress." he says softly and you open your mouth. then close it. open it again.
"i—excuse me??" you sputter. "i just gave the performance of a lifetime! oscar worthy!" clark’s lip twitches, a smile that threatens to actually break through the fluster. "sweetheart… you looked like a cartoon character holding up a sign that said ‘please save me clark!" your hands fly to your face, mortified and somehow warm all over. "i hate you." you huff feigning annoyance.
he laughs under his breath. "no, you don’t." you glare up at him through mascara coated lashes. "i might!" you huff out. "no..." he repeats, smiling now, eyes soft as winter light. "no, you don’t." the worst part is he’s right. you don’t... not even a little. you both step into the elevator, the doors gliding shut, trapping the warmth between you. clark presses the button for the lobby and then leans just slightly against the wall, sleeves rolled up enough to show his forearms, tie crooked, hair perfect in that 'just shoved his hands through it' way.
you try not to stare but you fail miserably. of course clark notices the exact moment your eyes drop to his mouth and immediately clears his throat, flustered down to the marrow. "so..." he says, voice an octave lower than normal, "why’d you do it?" you blink, confused "do what?" he gives you the look, the one that undresses you in kindness, not heat. "pretend you needed me." your heartbeat stutters. "i didn’t pretend that..." you say quietly. "i did need you." that stops him cold.
"oh?" clark breathes. "i, i thought—" you softly sigh, "no." you shake your head. "i mean, yeah, the guy wasn’t that bad but i wanted you. not because i needed rescuing, but because…" you bite your lip, letting the truth hover just out of reach. "…because i like being around you." clark’s breath catches and his hand resting by his side, curls slightly. like he’s fighting every instinct in him not to reach for you. "i like being around you too." he says softly, before adding onto his actual confession. "a lot."
the elevator dings breaking the tension a bit. you walk out into the lobby, warm city lights reflecting off the marble floor. snow dusts the windows, settling against the glass like a soft knock. clark adjusts the scarf around your shoulders again. gentle, careful, like you’re made of something fragile and precious. "hold still." he murmurs, his tongue sweeps over his lips. you look up at him, "you always fuss over me." you chuckle and he lies, "i do not fuss."
you raise your brows signalling a warning look. he sighs, "okay, i fuss a little." you shake your head "a little?" he smiles sheepishly. okay then, a lot." when you step outside, the cold hits immediately and the kind that settles on your skin like a clingy ghost. clark steps closer, one hand hovering at the small of your back.
"are you warm enough?" he asks, his hand still there. "i am wearing half your scarf." you admit with a giggle. clarks words hit you like a train. "you can have all of it if you want." you shake your head laughing loudly.
"you’ll freeze." he shrugs a bit "i run warm." oh, you do not need that information especially not right now. not with the image that immediately flashes in your mind. you shove it away and continue walking, snow crunching under your boots. clark keeps pace with you easily and then, slowly, tentatively, the back of his hand brushes yours.
you hold your breath. clark hesitates and then hesitates again and then like it costs him everything, he threads his fingers through yours. your heart does a full somersault. "is this okay?" he asks softly. you squeeze his hand. "yeah. yeah, it is." clark exhales like someone let him breathe for the first time all night.
you walk the next block in silence, hand-in-hand, snowflakes catching in your hair. clark keeps looking over at you like he’s memorizing every second. finally, he says, "can i ask you something?" you nod, smiling softly. "why me?" your breath fogs in front of you. "what do you mean?" clark looks down at your joined hands, then back at you — shy, earnest, unsure. "if someone flirts with you… why do you look for me? why do you want me to come over?"
you laugh gently. "clark. who else would i want?" his eyebrows lift, like he wasn’t expecting that answer at all. you continue, stepping closer as the snow falls heavier. "i like you. i feel safe with you. i trust you, and." you swallow, cheeks warm. "—i like how you look when you get… protective."
you don’t look at him when you say it but you feel the change. clark stops. completely. your joined hands stay connected, but he pulls you gently to a halt, turning toward you. snow flakes catch in his lashes. his breath fogs between you. his eyes soft blue, crackling with something he’s been holding back for months. his eyes search your face like he’s trying to read every secret you’ve ever had. "sweetheart." clark murmurs, voice low and warm enough to melt ice, "you can’t just say something like that."
your breath quickens. "why not?" he steps closer barely but enough that you feel the heat rolling off him. "because." he says, almost a whisper. "i don’t know how to pretend around you anymore."
your heart stops, completely. "clark…" you whisper. he shakes his head gently, looking at you like you hung the stars. "i get jealous and i try not to but when someone leans close to you, when someone who isn’t me tries to get your attention…" he swallows hard. "…it makes me want to step in. every time."
"clark…" you mumble but his voice cuts you short, "and not because i think you need rescuing." he adds, softer. "but because i want you to look at me the way you looked at me tonight." you blink, stunned. "how did i look at you?" you quip as clark smiles, small and heartbreakingly tender. "like i was the only one you wanted."
you open your mouth trying to deny it, to admit it, to say everything at once but before you can, clark lifts your joined hands and presses his lips to your knuckles. it's gentle and reverent. he's claiming without claiming. then suddenly the world goes quiet, it's just the soft snow and fogs of breath and him, clark.
Being locked up inside of a stuffy closet wasn't particularly on your list of goals for the night, and yet here you were, barely illuminated by the soft seam of light daring to leak through the cracks of the door. The night air outside was still young and in bloom, voices leaking through the gap under the door with cheers and Holiday joy. You hear the cork to a bottle burst with a pop, a voice shrieking a happy cry as foam inevitably froths over the bottle, spattering to the hardwood floor of the Saloon.
Your own breath feels as if it echoes around you, bouncing off of the built-in shelves lining the closet, hitting you back in the face with a ring paired in your ears. Your back digs into the sharp plastic faux leaves of a holiday wreath, pulled out in the chaos of decorations brought from the very back end of the space, spewing from boxes, unworthy decorations strewn on shelves and wood panel floors - It was a miracle you hadn't shattered a glass bauble under your feet.
You shuffle, knees feeling wobbled and numb, breath punching out from the depths of your lungs, layering the small space in a sickly sweet warmth, hot and humid as if you were trapped in a sauna. Your fingers twirl into thick and dark tendrils of hair, wound into curls with a tight squeeze of your fingers, flexing every time the hard metallic lap of a pierced tongue grazes hot over your clothed clit. Despite the freeze beyond the front door of the Community Centre, the air inside of the closet was thicker than creamy hot chocolate, heated by the dancing bodies of the townsfolk celebrating the late-night festivities. That, and the spiked eggnog you had nursed through the night, settling under your diaphragm and rising up, a flush that kissed your cheeks, skin already bitten sensitive by the cool air on your walk there. And of course the man between your legs had a helping hand with it too - Lengthy fingers grabbing around the soft squish of your thighs, thumbs daring to dig just enough to have you squirming. Sebastian’s hands were slender and elegant, decorated with glinting rings and cracked nail polish, said nails digging loving crescents into the supple soft of your skin.
He had you sighing, swallowing down milky-thick saliva, your eyes catching his own, dark brows furrowed in focus as his lips latched with a smush against your mound, a breath heavy and hot on your cunt.
Now how exactly did you end up here anyway?
There was something of a Holiday Party occurring - A new tradition since the Community Centre had been cleaned up, spacious for the entirety of the town to attend, freely mingling and dancing away with a few pocket groups chatting on the sidelines. The more “Adult-Adults” - The Parents of many young people of the Valley - Congregated by the fire, letting the flicking warmth absorb into their skin, soothed from the chilling bite of the outside with their own fire burning up in their guts, born out of the little treat of alcohol they sipped at. Others mingled elsewhere, spread across the varying rooms, even the children ran and played in the crafts room, welcomed now that festivities didn't have to take place in the depths of the Saloon or the frosty outside of the Town Square.
You were with your usual gaggle of friends; Samson, Abigail and Sebastian, tucked away by the storage pantry, sat on crates and barrels filled to the brim with bits and bobs. You giggle airily at Sam and his usual antics, nursing your cup of eggnog while you shift on your makeshift box-seat, careful to avoid lodging a splinter in Yoba knows where. The vibe was cozy, wrapped in a glowy warm as you look between your friends, a buzz in your tummy leaving your head a little light, lips a tad looser than before.
Your eyes land on Sebastian, propped up on his own crate, chin tilted up high enough to reach the crack of an open window, blowing hot nicotine smoke from his lips into the brisk chill outside. He drags his cigarette hard, the end firing to life with a burn of hot orange, ashes flecking off of the edge before it dies away, smoke carried into his lungs to settle before he blows out once again. He was methodical, practiced in the movements as if he’d sneaked a puff of tobacco before, pierced tongue wetting over his lips, spit surely warm enough to battle the cold kiss of night air reddening his mouth with a blush.
You can’t help but watch him, eyes soft with puppy-love, attention easily slipping away from the present conversation. It was a known fact that you harboured a few feelings for the dark and mysterious man - To you and your other friends at least - Having Samson and Abigail on your back about just asking Sebastian on some sort of date, heck, they’d even offered to set the entire thing up! But there was something that nibbled at your subconscious, a whisper chanting doubts into your thoughts like an earworm, suck on repeat as if it were a bad but catchy song. They assured you, swore up and down that he totally felt the same! But you couldn't let yourself believe it, stuck in a loop of pitiful pining, drooling like a dog with its favourite treat just out of reach, dangled above your head like the sweetest forbidden fruit.
You're snapped out of your trance with a soft kick to your shin, Abigail’s boot tip connecting with the bone enough to jump a startle out of you. She was snickering, and so was Sam, eyebrows raised with a soft mocking cat call, ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ whistled slyly under their breaths lest the other man notice. You pout at them, hiding the expression behind another sip of spiked eggnog, eyes squinted enough to show off your unamusement and potential embarrassment.
The thick brandy-laced custard slides down your throat with a swallow, adding to the warmth flushing inside your tummy, aided with the bashful sear brought on by Sam’s continued pokes. The alcohol leaves a subtle burn on your tongue, a bubbling in your stomach, turning the sweet and giddy fizz of a crush into something thick and near nauseating. You smack your lips, letting them pout into a small frown, tongue poking past in a childish manner before you let yourself giggle again.
Abigail hops up, sauntering to Sebastian to bum a cigarette off of him, joining by the slight crack of the window on the other side of the room, out of earshot for the next few babbles Sam had for you.
“He looks good tonight, doesn’t he?” Samson ever the lightweight dares to slur your way, cheekily taunting at the crush he knew you harboured for the other man. At first it was all comforts and sweet reassurances, repeating the same lines over and over- Of course you're pretty, of course you're his type, he looks at you too you know? - Until it morphed into not-so-subtle teases and jabs, Sam and Abigail growing tired at the same song and dance of reassurances, opting to wiggle their eyebrows and wink with a coo every time they caught you even glancing at Sebastian. They cared still, obviously, soothed away at the sharp stabs of insecurity that wriggled it’s way past the wall of your inner thoughts and out to them, these days the comforts presented themselves in a sly glance and a knock on your back forcing you to bump into the dark-haired man.
It was true that he did look good tonight; Hoodie swapped for a fitted black button down, coat forgotten at the door with the swallow of warmth inside the building. Piercings all matched with a dark silver sheen with rings to pair on a few of his fingers, bracelets and necklaces tied everything together, sheening behind his unbuttoned collar and rolled up sleeves.
You always hung out with the man in a group, surrounded by the others as a social buffer. Of course you had settled down in Abigail's room many nights past, eating snacks and playing video games until the ranch rooster crowed and the sun kissed its way up and over the horizon. Heck, you'd even spend afternoons with Sam, walking him home from work and staying until dinner, brainstorming music and chatting general nothingness until his mother had politely asked you to head home.
But Sebastian was another story. How could you invade his sacred space for your own amusement? You could barely open the door to his home for his mother's services without biting your bottom lip and looking at each nail in the floorboards for a distraction, heart tingling at the idea of just seeing him in his natural habitat. A group meant safety, in numbers and outlets, avenues to sprint down in case of an emergency - The emergency being your hopeless and stumbly feelings for him.
Of course you talked to him, chatting away at your interests and his alike, walking drinks from the bar to the pool table with your eyes locked all doe on his face. You had a fair amount in common as well, but that darn bubble in your stomach often kept your feet glued to one spot, a half smile directed towards him in acknowledgement to whatever he would say.
– “You reckon that ring’s new? Looks kinda new…” Sam continues, pondering his astute observation, prying his way past the protective wall you had meticulously crafted surrounding your social body, urging for a comment.
“Maybe..” Your reply is short, safely guarded behind the fear of alcohol loosening your tongue. Sam hums, tilting his head, not at all hiding the fact that he was analysing the man by the window, smoking his way through a conversation, puffs of thick nicotine coming with the replies he had for Abigail before he sticks his head out of the window to blow again. You try not to stare, missing the way Abigail points your way, beaded bracelets on her wrist giving a clacking jingle, her own teasing comments falling off of her tongue with a steady drip of amusement.
“Should ask him.” Sam’s voice chirps again. Subtle teases, as always, trying to push the pair of you together like a girl does with her dolls, announcing the prophet of “Now Kiss!” while smushing their plastic faces together. It had happened once; Sam convinced you to go against him at the pool table, clumsily cracking the triangle of billiard balls with his pool cue, unmanaging to sink either solids or stripes. You admitted you hadn't a clue about how to play, and you were sure you were off the hook until the sunshine boy beams that cheeky, toothy smile at you.
“Sebastian will help!” he had exclaimed, failing to hide his grin when the raven-haired man shrugged and stood from the worn-out Saloon armchair he had been resting in. Though a little initially shy, Sebastian was one to open up with a little push.
That night was something of a struggle. Feeling the warmth of Sebastian's chest laying over your back, lengthy, nimble fingers drowning your own as he guided the pool cue, digits wrapping around the thrumming artery that pulsed in your wrist with a squeeze, just enough to have your head reeling. Click and clack went the sheeny resin balls, sinking into the holes of the pool table with an easy thrust of the cue thanks to Sebastian’s assistance, practically babying you through the process. His cologne stuck to you that night, soft and spicy and barely a hint of sweetness, bled into the threads of your top- Yoba, you’d never properly admit it but you didn’t wash the poor thing for far too long, not until the thick stain had properly lost its essence. The imprint of his body was something unforgettable, towering over your back, chin tucked by your ear, breaths slow and careful, full of focus as he whispered instructions with every turn, guiding your body as if you were his puppet.
Ever since, it seemed to be Samson’s mischievous mission to pin the two of you together.
There were countless attempts only ending in hot embarrassment, the need to recreate a one off moment only becoming a tangled mess with its execution, like a failed flash mob two counts out of time. But you couldn’t be mad at Sam, in the end he was only trying (and mostly failing) to be your wingman. You squint at him, watching the blonde obnoxiously play with the bar lodged in his tongue, leaned back upon a box from his spot on the floor, eyes fuzzed out of focus in deep thought. Well, as deep as Samson could manage with the clear wash of tipsiness leaking from his body language. He huffs a sigh and chuckles, a goofy, lopsided grin leaning your way before it's hidden by his own sip of his drink, his pierced eyebrow raising as if to dismiss the curious thoughts you had swirling around behind your forehead.
Sam hops up, a sway in his movement, humming under his breath as he explores a nearby storage closet, spewing out Christmas decor used to add Holiday Charm around the rooms. Ever so nonchalant. He rifles loudly, snickering to himself when he finds a dusty Santa hat, putting the wretched thing over his mane of hair before he continues on. The other pair make their way back over, the window now fully shut, locking in the warmth of the Community Centre, any remnants of the bristly chill snuffed out with a warm wash. Sam’s antics were loud, hands roughly exploring the space, pulling things out that surely shouldn’t be touched - At least not by him of all people. Sebastian and Abigail sit either side of you, the male opting to share a corner of the wooden pallet crate you had situated yourself on, very nearly pressing his bicep into your own as he watches Sam.
“Duuuude..” The blonde calls with a hiccuped laugh, practically jumping into a box to nab at something. Sebastian tilts his head, an amused quirk of a smile plastered on his pierced lips, the point of a double vertical labret (Not snakebites as Sam always annoyingly calls them) lifting with the action.
“That can’t be good.” Sebastian’s voice cracks soft, tone low enough for only you to hear, like a hidden inside joke. Of course, you giggle, top teeth sinking into your bottom lip to stifle the noise, your brain letting you laugh so effortlessly, as if you were a crushing school girl - Yoba it felt silly, and yet your body strives to work against you.
“I’m scared..” You mock a wobbly tone, a fake frown on your face which easily turns upwards as Sam yelps, coming up with his lucky-dip mystery prize he’d yanked up from the box.
“Ooho..” The blonde calls, lifting up the very thing he had practically dived for; A stringy and sad looking worn-out piece of plastic mistletoe, decorated with a gnarly bright red ribbon in the beginnings of the end of its life, fraying right at the edges in wispy fabric feathers. His grin turns shit-eating, eyes darkening in your direction, dangling the sad plastic plant as if it were poison ivy, ready to rash anything it touched. “Ohh, Sebby-Webs~” He teases, making a wet, spit-filled kissy face at the other man.
Sebastian rolls his eyes with a huff, pulling out his lighter and flicking the flame to life with a hearty click, a silent threat against the very existence of the sad excuse of mistletoe. Sam makes a show of pouting, sniffling faux snot up his nose in defeat before his attentions turn to you.
“He’s so mean, right?” He keeps up his pout, fake tears in his eyes. “You’ll smooch me, right?” He looked like a kicked puppy, bottom lip wobbling as he neared you, holding the plastic piece above your head. He looks to Sebastian, a glint in his eyes and a near smirk daring to twitch on his lip, stirring the pot, so to say. You fake a gag, looking to Sebastian to spout a joke but the man looked.. Well, tense. Brow furrowed just enough, body stiff in his spot beside you compared to the lucid and wobbled movements of Sam. “Just oneeee~” The blonde begs, teasing at you, making another puckered kissy face as he dramatically leans in.
Another one of his forced proximity plans perhaps-
A lean hand smushes into Sam’s lips, ring clad fingers squishing his cheeks, firmly but gently shaking his head. Oh, it was on now. A roughhousing play fight between the two men, giggles and fake insults, Sam and his mistletoe with pucker kissing noises now directed back to Sebastian. “Kiss meeee, kiss me- You know you want to~” Sam would sing, only to be refuted by Sebastian calling him some sort of choice word. You and Abigail can only look to one another, a stifled smile as the boys go at each other- Until an unhealthy crashing tumble occurs.
Sebastian yelps a swear, falling back on a box within the closet space, saved by the crinkle of tinsel rather than any sharp and nasty decorations. You don’t think, jumping to your feet, eggnog forgotten as you spring to help him.
“Seb-! Are you alright?” You reach him, lending your arm for him to use you as leverage, doing your best to pull him free. You get him up and standing, faced with his collarbones with his height compared to your own, closer than you initially had thought you'd be, the space tighter than it seemed with all the storage boxes-
A chuckle comes from the door, Sam with a teeth-filled and lopsided grin, one hand on the frame and the other tossing the sad little plastic mistletoe right at you before the door comes to a hearty, thunking close. Boisterous laughter is muffled, taunts of “Behaving” going nearly unheard as crates scrape against the hardwood floors, only logically being pressed against the door, successfully locking yourself and Sebastian inside of the tiny storage closet.
This felt juvenile, as if you were thrown into a game of Seven Minutes in Heaven, the door un-opening as you try your best to push - No luck.
A hand rests snugly on your waist as Sebastian leans over, trying his luck at pushing the door to get it moving along its hinges, palm and fingers spread flat over the wood. It's a futile attempt. He chokes around a pant as he tries again, breath straining with a soft whine right at the back of his throat with his pushing, forming into a weak and disheartened groan of a sigh when he fails again. He swallows, breathing huffed, squared to catch himself before he braces to try again.
“Seb-” Your voice calls with a crack, your hand daring to reach for his bicep, giving him a soft squeeze, heavy with your touch thanks to the soft swirl of alcohol in your stomach. “Hey..” You try again before he relents, face snapping to yours in the dimmed-down closet, barely illuminated by the crack under the door. His breaths huff against your lips, hot and laced with tobacco and a wash of mint in a feeble attempt to mask the smell. He had managed to work up a small sweat with his attempts, smoker lungs surely fiery behind his ribs, puffs coming to an easy slow, air still coming from past his lips, brushing into yours like a faux kiss.
His hand on your waist doesn't move, plastered stuck right in place before the other joins, holding you right there - Closer than arm's length. You hear him swallow, see the bare brush of his tongue swiping over his lips, wetting them with saliva, piercings glinting with the bare shine of light. “Fuck..” Comes his voice, barely above a whisper, more rounded with the shape of his mouth and that harsh digraph sound nestled at the back of his throat.
It's quiet - So, so quiet. Save for the shake of your breaths, coming into a rhythm, forced into tandem as you try to make out Sebastian’s face in the dim. Your pulse thrums in your ears, thumping like a ball in your throat, gushing red-hot anxious blood to your head, already washy and tipsy drunk off of that damned eggnog- The air between you seared, hot tension rising as you come to terms with exactly what just happened, a heavy weight of mortification washing down your shoulders and to your toes, curdling the contents of your stomach into something bubbly-sick. It was as if a kettlebell fell down on your head right as you’d jumped down from high up, a spiking shock running up your legs and down your shoulders, meeting up in the middle. Your hand moves to come off of his bicep, the squeeze of your fingers off from his flesh-
One slender hand moves up, cupping at your ribs as if to stop you, accompanied by a short and startled disapproving hum, rumbled from Sebastian’s throat. You stare at him, he stares back, eyes searching left, right, left, right, flicking and unknowing of where exactly to look- Until he sighs, air punched from his gut before his head drops, carefully landing on your shoulder, face turned into your neck. His piercings barely press a graze to your sensitive skin, poking dully on your pulse, scraping as he speaks right under your ear.
“Sorry.. C-Can..” Your body sparks a shiver. “Can I..?” He asks, such an open-ended question had your brain searching all the ‘what ifs’. You mouth his name with a whisper, a questioning tone pitched up before he hums a long sound from his chest. “I can’t take it anymore- Really.. Fuck- Can I just..” He huffs another breath, a thick swallow following down his throat. His lips graze a trail up, pressed right by your ear as he asks; “Please-” exacerbation and frustration, it oozes off of him, “Tell me I can kiss you- Yoba I can’t...”
Was this an eggnog induced hallucination? Was your sick pining something mutual? No more clawing through the six feet of thick insecurity to grasp at measly straws or long over the reassurances Sam and Abigail had gifted you? It was your turn to beg a short please of your own before your lips were captured in a desperate lock - All teeth and tongue, clumsy in movement, heads turning to find the perfect fit. Sebastian's hands wander, caressing up and down your sides, to the small of your back, letting them dive further to cup the fat of your ass as his tongue moves to take over your mouth. It swirls lovingly over your own, the ball of his tongue bar rolling and lapping, tastebuds dragging rough against each other, sloppy with spit and tipsiness, each and every breath of his tainted with a moan that cracked its way up his throat. His piercings poke against your lips, kissing them raw with every move of his mouth on your own until he lets your bottom lip thread through his teeth with a needy bite.
He pecks you hard, capturing your lips in a short frenzy before he's back on you again, deep and needy, pulling your body towards his own, soft in comparison to his lean build. You throw your arms around his neck, fingers twirling girlishly into the back of his hair, giving him a sweet tug with every few kisses you give back. His tongue is on you again, lips parting with a groan as he licks into your mouth, the mixed taste of whiskey tainted custard-cream and spiced smoked tobacco swaps with your spit. The air around you thickens, noses huffing against each others cheeks as you try to catch your breath, unwilling to part from the sloppy lock of your lips - Curse the need to breathe, Sebastian pops off with a wet puckered sound, a line of spit still connecting you together. His arms tighten, fingers turning into a claw to grab at you, anything he could get his hands on, his lungs huffed up choked breaths, head shaking in some form of disbelief.
“Fuck.. Yoba-” His lowered voice calls. Your response is barely a squeak before he's on you again, capturing your lips between his in a hot and heavy manner, pulling you into his body, pressing himself against you, the finality of having you in his arms coursing a magma-hot sear through his blood. His knee rests between your legs, an arm caged around your upper back, caressing and rubbing in a feverish frenzy, bundling the fabric of your clothes into desperate fists while the other rubs circles into your hip, tugging right at the waist of your pants. You feel it, the hot pulse of something down below, the strain of his cock pressing up against the seam of his jeans and by proxy, poking against your own body. “I.. Fucken’... Need you.” It’s said between kisses, slurred against your lips, “F’So… Long.. Too fucken’.. Shit-.. Too, mmph.. pussy to say-” That's when you cut him off, a sweet tug to his hair with one hand and a cup to his chin with the other, tippy-toeing your way to press against him, kissing up, chasing his mouth.
“Shh..” You soothe, your own desperation showing as your palms come down to massage his shoulders, caressing up and down his chest over the sheeny smooth fabric of his button down. Your fingers trace against his collar, dipping past the edge of his shirt, already slightly unbuttoned from the top to show off the silver chain of his necklace. Another swear comes from his pierced lips, hands leaving your body for barely a moment for him to tug at the strip of fabric housing the plastic buttons, pulling the poor placket open with a needy tug, losing at least one rounded badge with a snap, the poor little thing landing on the floor with a bounce before it was forgotten completely. His chest was exposed, milky skin bright enough to see in the dim light, sparsely dotted moles dancing over his otherwise clear skin. It's warm against your touch, tacky with the rise of sweet arousal, in the beginning stages of working up a heated sweat.
His hands are back on your body, reaching for the hem of the ‘ugly sweater’ you’d picked out for the night, decorated with kitschy Holiday motifs sewn into the knit. It was one of your last layers you wore to the party that night, a warm and cuddly jumper and scarf left to sit in a neat pile. Off it came with a tug over your head before his bare hands were on your skin, forcing sweet shivers in every spot he touched, sparking like needle pricks with every squeeze and brush. His lips brush into your neck with open mouthed kisses, bites and bruises peppered into your skin- Your nails dig into his shoulder, dragging down his front before your palms flatten, taking in the feeling of his body against your fingertips. “Sebastian~.. Mmnn..” Your head tilts back with a sweet chirpy moan, giving the man all the access he could ever want to your body, thoughts swirling behind your closed eyes, dizzy with the slur of alcohol inebriating your finer thinking ability. Yoba, you didn’t care- Couldn't care less towards the fact.
Sebastian bites against the strap of your bra, the elastic snapping against your shoulder before he mouths at your collar bone, sinking down to the valley of your breasts, bent over to press tender kisses and love bites into the once untouched and hidden skin. You reach back and fumble with the clasp of your bra, picking at the stubborn latch to free your tits, feeling the wet spit of his kisses linger coolly with the huff of his breath.
“Hahh.. Shit..” His voice pipes up again. Kisses come back up, arms wrapping snug around your body to squeeze you into him, tits squishing into his nude chest all soft and pretty, the rougher poke of his necklace making an imprint into your skin. His hands are grabby, arms flexing to hug and pull at you, teeth sinking into your neck, over your collarbones, wet kisses smothered up your jaw to your awaiting lips.
“S-Seb-!” He only groans in response, head nodding as if to say ‘I Know,’ pierced lips dragging into your skin with the movement. Your hands grab his face, cupping his jaw on either side, thumbs caressing in rough swipes, feeling the subtle grain of his shaved face under the pads of them. You grab back at him, palm sliding down his neck, massaging into the bob of his Adam’s apple, against the slope of his shoulder into that tender trap muscle, skin soft with peach fuzz until you move to his chest, feeling the slightest wiry rough of chest hair, barely enough to frame his torso. You rub the expanse of his chest, hands between your pressed bodies, kissing hot and sloppy, tongues swirling, lips fully parting to moan into his mouth as your thumb brushes over his bare nipple, feeling the hard metal of a piercing. It sends a thick course of arousal to your core, throbbing behind the press of your pants.
You squirm, rubbing your thighs together for a sweet release, anything to feel the sticky heat of friction against your budding arousal- Yoba you don’t have to chase it though.
It's like he reads your mind, his hand allowing itself to press between your legs, long and dexterous ring-clad fingers pushing against your mound in a caress, palm pressing richly hot pressure against your clit. Your lips part in another moan, eyes rolling softly, allowing your lashes to flutter into a dreamy close, body melting as if you were moulded out of thick molasses. Things were getting hotter - Heavier - Pleasures beginning to spark under fingers and they soothe and caress, as Sebastian’s palm grounds rough at the seam of your pants, fingertips pressing their pads against your clothed fluttering hole. Your lips part from his with a breathy gasp, his name hot on your tongue, barely whispered, those syllables rounded as you suck air into your starving lungs. Yoba, it's all you can say - A mantra of his name over and over with every few seconds, spewing from your lips as if you knew nothing else.
He breathes your own name back to you, rasped off of his pierced tongue before his kisses are on your throat, nose nuzzling in slow shakes of his head. His hand comes up, swiping the button to your pants with his thumb and forefinger, zipping down the fly enough for him to connect closer - His fingers dip behind your panties, the taught elastic band surely digging into the back of his hand as he glides his digits over your drooly folds. He outwardly groans, another ‘Fuck’ grit through his teeth. You whimper, head leaning into him for comfort, thighs squishing around his teasing hand. Ohhh that was it- The sweet dip of his long middle finger sinking into your wetness, past the weepy ring of your cunt, coated in sweet drool as he dares to curl. You bite into your bottom lip, a long and keened hum following his actions.
“God- Yoba..” He stains, his finger working its magic, curling sweet caresses, a beckoning of ‘come here, come here!’ over and over again. “You’re so.. Fuck- so wet..” He says in bewilderment, tongue running over his kiss-bitten lips, past the metal pierced through them. You nod, an ‘All f’you’ about to drip off of your tongue if it weren't for the grind of his palm sparking a delicious pressure against your clit- Instead you moan, a pathetic affirmation of a noise whining out. One became two, the slip of his ring finger clad with a ring, in fact, easily being stained with the sweet and creamy nectar of your cunt.
Oh, how he works them into you. Cupping your pussy with his lean hand, lengthy fingers rolling sweet curls against the gummy little spot inside of you, giving you his palm to grind back on, lips kissing at the top of your head, huffing an enamoured chuckle each time you clench your squishy thighs against the bone of his wrist and the dig of his bracelets. Yoba, it forces him to be rougher with you, a game to push past the tight trap of your thighs, free himself from the confines all so he could fuck into you. You look up at him, eyes glassy from the abuse of his fingers, pressing right where you needed him. You flutter a blink, bubbles of tears threatening to fall past your bottom lash, doe and unfocused with a pouty bite to your lip.
“Hohhh.. Fuck, that's it.” He holds you into him as your legs go jelly-soft, a hot wash of ditzy dizziness creeping up your knees as his fingers fuck and curl. He stares right at you, brows furrowed in an upward pinch, a tug of a frown born out of hot arousal and focus appearing right at the corner of his lip. Your breaths hitch, rapid, in pace with a sinful hiccup tainting any feeble attempt at speaking-
“Seb.. ast-tian~” It's almost like a warning, sharp with arousal and stuttered in pleasure, breathed inward as you gasp, hands fisting into the fabric of his open button-down like a lifeline.
“Hmmn?” He hums with a nod - Right there. Sebastian was right where you needed him, his fingers mashing into that supple little spot inside of you, that sweet and spongy swell that had your brain all foggy. “What is it, Princess..?” The name alone had you melting further than you thought was possible, your entire body rippling with a sensation that felt as though you were on fire. Your fingers tighten on the fabric of his shirt, chin tilting up in a desperate plea, lip bitten raw and in need of more kisses.
Of course, he obliges, hearing your begs despite the lack of a peep chirped from your throat - Slow and deep - That's how he kisses you. Capturing your lips with a sweet bite of teeth, tongue caressing your own with a loving lick, out of time with the hot and feverish way his fingers fuck your cunt. The juxtaposition only adds to the wobble in your body, coming closer and closer to the very edge, moans drunk up by his lips, swallowed with a happy humming in his throat. One hand comes off of his shirt collar, fingers curling around Sebastian's arm, your soft palm feeling the bump of his wrist bone press into it, greedily pushing him into you while your hips hump back on his digits.
“I..- I’m.!” You can barely formulate your sentences, whipped thicker than cream under his spell, the sinful caress of his fingers beckoning in your cunt.
“Fuckk, Babe.. S’okay- I gotcha’..” Sebastian promises. You cling to him for dear life, your body leaning its weight against him, pushing him further into the wedge of shelves supporting the both of you. You feel it, that spark right at the bottom of your tummy, twisting and turning, firing into ignition as your thighs clench and squirm. So close- So, so close!
Any attempt at a legible sentence is easily cut with a gaspy whimper, crying out as you cream over his knuckles, properly messing up the fabric of your panties with gushy slick, bleeding pat and surely leaving a messy wet spot on your pants. Even with the taut press of your waistband limiting the man’s movements, he doesn't let up, curing those lengthy fingers through the rush of your orgasm, feeling the clenchy release lovingly pulse on his knuckles. He works you through it, eyes wide and enamoured with the way he had you, closer than arm's length, the sole reason for the sweet bliss that rushed through your body - “Shit- That's it.. Thaaat’s it- Fuck.. Look at me.. Look at me-” You obey, fucked out eyes flicking up to his, seeing the wash of arousal pool and swirl behind his dark lashes, his lip bitten bruised as he focuses on you, enamoured. “Feels good? Hmmn?” He nearly begs for reassurance, huffing a relieved laugh when you nod, your body twitching with each sweet pulse.
His lips attack yours, hungry and hot, throat groaning up a delicious noise you couldn’t help but eat up, body on fire with the way his palm rides you through the remnants of your hot burst of arousal.
“Fuck..” His hand softens its press, fingers giving a last curl before he carefully pulls them from the confines of your pants. They're drenched and sticky, dribbles of arousal sticking to his fingers like a lattice, spider webbing with a sinful drip that had you clenching your thighs once again. It drips over his rings, cream and slick mixing with the precious metal, soaked knuckles curling as his lips part, tongue lapping a lick before they’re suckled into his mouth.
The groan he lets out is near animalistic, needy and punched from the depths of his lungs, his own arousal going painfully unnoticed only pressing harder and stricter against the seam of his jeans. The man murmurs, words raspy-hot on his tongue; “Need more of’ya-”
It felt almost comical to describe the next moments as a blur, but the post-orgasm airiness lingering in your boozed tipsy brain had your perception flicking with a whack of whiplash. Turned from your position, the skin of your naked back now pressing into a collection of forgotten Holiday decorations, a slight itch thanks to the plastic of a faux wreath. Your pants are tugged down, eager fingers hooking into your waistband and stripping you of your bottoms, it's a short fumble, hot and clumsy, the air within the closet turned stuffy with breath and sweet arousal-induced sweat.
Hands are on you, flat palms squishing into the flesh of your bare thighs, fingers still slick, pressing their pads into the sensitive, rarely caressed skin - Thumbs daring to dig just enough to have you squirming. His lips are next, sharp with the bud of his piercings and the nips of his teeth, daring to suckle a bruising kiss against your inner thigh, piping up a squeak from your throat, another call of his name. You search for Sebastian in the dim, eyes focusing on the milk of his skin reflecting off of the crack of light, his being nestled comfortably between your legs. His dark hair parts with an affectionate caress of your fingers, looping themselves through his locks to pat him. He hums against your flesh, warm on your skin, breath moist with humidity born out of the hot and tacky stick of arousal leaching into the air from your bodies.
He smacks his lips on the skin of your thighs, itching up and up, further into the centre of your heat, nails digging loving crescent marks into your skin with every eager grope. He kisses against your bikini line, right by the taut elastic hugging at your upper leg, hiding away the sweetness of your cunt behind a wall of silky pantie fabric. He nuzzles his nose into the crevice connecting your thigh to torso, the point of it dragging over your clothed cunt with an affectionate press accompanied by a shameless inhale. Sebastian sighs something dreamy, lips peppering kisses that had your breath hitching, right over the mound of your heat - So pretty and accentuated with the tight and taught pull of your panties, outlining the swell of your pussy. Yoba, he swallows thick, gulping down saliva that dared to pool under his pierced tongue.
Your arousal sticks to his lips, pooling a clear wet spot in your panties, a target for him to kiss at, to tentatively lick at, feeling the slick remnants of your previous orgasm wet on his tongue. He groans- More of that taste on his tongue, eyes heavy as they look up at you, washed over with need. Your fingers twitch, straining against his scalp, tugging his dark strands enough to have him diving right in.
His lips latch to your clothed cunt, impatient to get more of you on his tongue. The soft prick of his lip piercings press a spiky pressure on your sensitive mound, a reminder harsher than the eager lap of his tongue- Yoba.. Fuck- His tongue, strong and flat, licking between your pantie clad folds, adding his own drooly spit to the mess staining the poor fabric. His lips purse against your pussy as he indulges, eyes fluttered shut, thick, dark brows creased into an affectionate scrunch, full of focus.
“O-Ohhh.. Seb… I’m.. I need..” You breathe past the burn of your lungs, panting with jolty huffs each time his lips and tongue brush over the fabric covering the sensitive bud of your clit.
“Hmm.. Mhmmn-” He hums, smacking a harsh kiss before he pulls off, “Need to- Fuck, need my tongue on you. Gotta-” He shakes his head, kissing at his teeth with a ‘tut’ before his thumb dares to leave your thigh, hooking at the fabric of your panties in a motion to pull them aside. He looks to you, a thick gulp down his throat as he watches your head bob- Nod, nod, nod goes your head, almost in desperation to just feel him again, fingers curling in his hair, clenched with arousal and the budding frustration to just make him take you already. Yoba, he was sweet, though, the sentiment of him asking such things, checking in with a silent ask for consent, making your back teeth grit in hot enamourment.
Sebastian takes it, your gifting nod, and eagerly yanks your underwear to the side. His thumb pulls your panties taut, shifted aside to show off the wet glisten of your folds, gushy with your last orgasm, puffy and swollen thanks to the prior abuse of his fingers, good enough to kiss-
Obviously, he does. Planting a wet and obnoxious open-mouthed kiss to your budding clit, lips smacking together before he properly dives into you, selfishly savouring all the sweetly creamed arousal you had for him. You gasp, fingers tightening in the twirls of his hair, surely enough to leave a harsh sting but Yoba- It doesn't seem like he cares. If anything it spurs the man on, a hot groan erupting from his chest, lips parting, the prick of his piercings digging a delicious pressure into your cunt. He’s messy with you, hungry slurps uncaring of the vulgar noise - The sharp and uncomfortable itch of the Holiday wreath biting at your skin was incomparable to the searing hot pleasure ripped from your pussy, stinging with overstimulation, forcing an endless string of whines from your lips.
Your throat hiccups, panting hot swears and the syllables of his name, rounded easily from your lips as he takes to you. It's easy for another orgasm to threaten your body, the feeling eager to roll from your cunt, twisting sweet and stabby like a suckled on candy cane, licked into a pin-thin spike poking at your gut- Especially with the works of Sebastian's tongue, swirly with his movements, tongue fat and flat as the metal ball of his piercing kisses at the bud of your clit in his rhythmic laps. He’s vocal with you, only spurring you on; Sweet hums tainting each breath he sucked in, feeble attempts to get oxygen in his lungs. You’re not sure he cares, not with the hearty mash of his lips against your mound, pursed with a stingy-sweet suckle directed right against your clit, teeth grazing at the supple soft swell of your pussy.
You can’t help the hot babble, the filthy cry you speak next, steadily rushing to the very edge- Wanting to just take him- Damn any refractory period, you needed to feel the pulsy stab of his length drilling you over the edge.
“Fuck me- Please- please, please Sebby just- Ahhnn..~” You whine, fingers giving his hair some grace, opting to feverishly pet him, clumsy affection in your fingers as you work them in a soothe. “Want you- Want you so, so bad- Y’know? F’so long-” You don't have to convince him.
He pops off of your cunt- Not without leaving several plants of hot kisses, pecking hotly on your clit before he tugs your panties down. His cock comes free with the jangle of a belt buckle, the leather sliding from his belt loops with a zip, metal buckle daring to clank on the floor before he’s working at the button and zip of his fly. His lips kiss at yours, the taste of your cunt on his tongue, sweetly salty and drenched in arousal, twinged with the last remnants of spicy nicotine and cream-sweet eggnog, swapped with the swirly spitty lap of your tongues mingling together in a hot collide.
It feels like a hot blur, motions moving quickly, Sebastian's arm jutting as he fists his free cock- Weepy dribbly tip all swollen and pink, finally free from the tight seam of his jeans. You squirm, lips clumsy on his own, arousal knocking you into an instinct-driven motion, oh so needy, “Seb..- Please.. Fuck… Fuck me~” You beg, muted between hot kisses, words slurred with the lick of his tongue, cutting you off with his mouth.
You move in tandem, arms throwing themselves around his neck as he grips the squish of your thigh, lifting your leg to wrap around his lean hip, hooking you into him as he lines himself up. He pops off of your lips enough to breathe, murmuring filthy things against them, coated in hot spit and your sweet arousal; “M’gonna fuck you- Promise, God- Yoba I promise, Princess-” He throws more sweet pet names your way, “Wanted me? Hmm? Wanted- Fuck.. Wanted you f’so long..” He promises. You feel the pudge of his cock press to your cunt, sparking a drooly clench of your drippy hole. He grinds on you, hips rolling, tip weeping as if it were crying, dribbling its milky pre over your puffy clit, pathetically kissing against your folds as his hips rut.
“Fuuuuckkk..” The ring of your cunt hugs his tip, suckling him in as he finally makes an effort to press in, he groans out a moan, matching the supple whine of your throat as you take him. Slow and sweet was something that could surely come later- The pressing itch of desperation easily taking over between you. Heavy rolls turn into needy fucks, hips jutting, pudgy cock tip making love to your cervix, kissing hot and lovingly hard pecks against the sweet mush in the depths of your pussy.
It's easy for his hips to roll into you, the base of his cock pounding against your mound, grinding the wiry curls that decorated him into the sensitive bud of your clit. Plap, plap, plap goes his hips on yours, skin to skin, sticky and sweat sheened, tacky to the touch as your bodies collide. You brace one arm on a shelf behind you, swiping off any stray decorations with a clamouring clutter, mystery items bouncing off into the depths of the closet, rolling on the floor. Your other arm hangs loosely on his neck, doe eyes fucked out and glossed as they look up at him, lips parted sweetly, kiss bitten and spit-shined, captured in a heated tongue and teeth-filled kiss before Sebastian groans.
“Everythin’ I fucken’ dreamed of-” It's said between gritted teeth, his gaze snapping from your wet eyes to your drooling cunt, huffing an arousal filled chuckled laced up in disbelief, seeing that drooly ring of cream coat over his length, making a mess between yourselves. “So fucking perfect- Fuhhhck m’not gonna last long- Hahh.” You nod in agreement, eyes closing, that bubble of tears falling down your cheeks with a streak. Closer and closer came the tight twist of your next orgasm, your poor and abused pussy clenching loving squeezes on his cock, spurred on with the hot sting of overstimulation- Your thigh cramped, spread over his hip for him, tits bouncing with every thrust, lungs stuck in a sweet burn.
Your skin sweats, lips drool, eyes blink all glossy and dumb, brain firing off every time you have the pleasure of looking at him- Closer, closer - Your clit throbs, hips pathetically humping back into his fucks, chasing the hot high that threatened to gush!
There's sudden laughter, slurred and obnoxious, rasped from an all-too-happy voice. It leaks from beneath the crack in the door, the outside world leaching into your little space, a phantom chill washing over your body as if the door has swung open to the fresh fall of snow that blanketed the street. A crash occurs, a feminine voice scolding someone, furniture scraping against the wood floor of the outside. You hadn't noticed your attention had wandered, not until Sebastian grips your chin, turning you back to lock into another searing kiss-
“Oiii-” A fist bashes against the door, rattling the thing on its hinges. Sebastian’s hand moves, coming between your legs to rub at your poor bud- The fiery thrill of a threat- A burning fear of being caught by a drunken Sam had your body twitching. Sebastian seemed to feel the same, making something of a challenge to get you off before the blonde had the audacity to finally clear the doorway. “Ha- ‘ave you kissed yet?” Yoba knows you’ve done so much more.
Sebastian presses you harder into the shelves, hips snapping rough, filthy words spat into your ears as his hand worked overtime on your poor clit- His hips roll sloppily, breathes coming into a hard and slow pant, huffing in your ear- “Fuck.. M’ Gonna fucken’ cum- Yeah? G-Gonna take it? Hmmn? Look so pretty like this-” he babbles, tone heavy in his throat. “Gonna make it up t’you- Yeah? Promise.. Hnng fuck- P-Promise..” His fucks turn snappy, jut, jut, jutting- Punching at your poor cervix, cunt mashing against the base of his cock.
“Seb- As.. Tian~” You choke, head lulling back with an eye roll, teeth biting into your lips as you finally gush again, wetting his cock with a weepy clench of your pussy, filthily kissing at his length, adding to the wonderful mess between your legs. So sweet and squeezy, your velvety walls massage the length of his cock as you cum, pussy suckling him in, inviting the hot pulse of his own orgasm with a loving hug.
His hips snap in sharp staccatos, throat stuck in a perpetual growl with each lingering fuck as he spurts. He creams into you, hot and ropey filling up the depths of your sweetness, milked off by your squeezing. His sweaty forehead comes to rest in the crook of your neck, fingers holding your thigh up squeezing a grab, a stingy dig of his nails leaving desperate crescent marks behind. He rasps a drawn-out groan, nosing into the tacky, sweaty skin of your neck, mouthy kisses back on your shoulder, just adding to the bitey kiss marks he’d left on you already.
You jolt when another knock rasps against the door, sloppy and full, thunks formed by a fist connecting to the wood. “Alright, you guys, you've definitely been in there long-e-fucking-nough." Sam’s voice calls with a snort, a failed attempt at stifling his laughter. “Don’ make me open this door~” He sings.
The fumble for clothes and the accidental collide of foreheads seemed worth it all - Especially when you roll over and see the man now in your bed, chest rising and falling as he sleeps, more bruises kissed into both of your skin, all sticky and spent, a shower surely in order by the time morning came. For now, you bask in the luxury of resting your head on Sebastian’s chest, lulled to sleep by the dull ache in your legs and the tipsy swirl of spiked eggnog settling in your stomach.
Soccer Player!Cocky!Robin Buckley x Catholic!Cheerleader!Reader
Roommates/Enemies to Lovers
Summary: based on a tiktok meme i saw: “my roommate found out i was gay and started reading me bible verses” -> “eat her out”
Warnings: girl on girl (duh), closeted!reader, virgin!reader, light humor, bimbo!reader, meangirl!reader, perv!flirty!robin, robin calls reader per names (angel, cupcake, etc) internalized homophobia, all girls catholic school, blasphemy, religious themes, oral sex, if you squint dub con, come eating, fingering, nipple play, anal play, kissing, robin talks about her parents sending her to catholic school for conversion, fluffy aftercare
A/N: 1st image @/abbighy, 3rd image @/momoiro_lys (i don’t own any of the images above) this was fun and self indulgent. Some aspiring dynamics from elphaba and glinda.
“I can’t believe your parents are making you go to an all girls catholic university. When you should be going to university with me.” Steve grumbles
“Aww, you gonna miss me, buddy? Don’t worry you can still visit and call me whenever you like…at least when I’m not getting laid.” Robin says, patting his back.
“I know I can but I just hate that you’ll be living the dream without me,” He sighs. “An all girls school? These are gonna be the best years of your life. Meanwhile, I’ve got a roommate that’s had a sock on our dorm’s doorknob for 2 nights straight. Do you know how humbling an experience that is for me? Me, King Steve.”
“Yeah, yeah. King Steve,” Robin waves off. “To be fair, I don’t even know what my roommate’s like and, with the luck I’ve got, she probably sucks so hard.”
“But she’s a girl…with boobies.” Steve emphasizes.
“Gah, you know I hate that word. Tits is more like it.” She quips.
Dragging Robin’s belongings down the hallway of the building, Steve and Robin could already see the wandering eyes of the students who couldn’t decide whether to thirst for him or her. They finally reach the room door, Robin putting a key to the door and praying silently for a decent roommate.
The two of them enter, greeted by you as you struggle to place a box onto the top of your closet. Robin couldn’t deny that she found you quite pretty. Maybe a bit too much pink for her liking but you wear it well.
Stepping forward, she takes the box from behind you and puts it in its intended position. You look up at her with big eyes before turning to fully face her.
“Thank you.” You say.
“You got it, angel.” She winks.
You clear your throat, adjusting your clothes and distancing yourself from her. “You must be my new roommate. It’s a pleasure meeting you. I’m (name), new head captain of the Hawkins Saints cheer squad. Niece of the renowned Priest of the Eden’s Holy Children Temple. Oh, I also am the top student of this school.”
You finish, three of you all staring in awkward silence as you await for her to introduce herself.
“Oh, right…umm, I’m Robin Buckley.”
“Yes, and…”
“We’re currently on the moon.” Robin says.
“What?” You ask, scoldingly perplexed.
“Sorry, thought we were doing a whole improv thing.” She replies.
“I’m confused. Are you a comedian?”
“No, I’m just…Robin.”
“And I’m Steve.” Steve says with his hand raised, reminding you two of his presence.
“Oh,” You say in a disappointed tone. “How…ordinary. Not a bad thing just…okay.”
Robin presses her tongue against her cheek. She usually doesn’t mind being called basic, it meant nothing to her but hearing it from your mouth in such a condescending tone made her blood boil just a little.
Her eyes scan your side of the room, landing on the “eat, pray, love” wall art above your computer desk.
“Really?” Robin questions, raising an eyebrow.
“My mother gave it to me.” You say, face heating up.
“Whatever you say, angel.” She smirks, brushing past you towards her side of the room. It’s quite small in comparison to your side because you’d taken up most of the space with your things.
“Geez, is this really it?” Steve asks.
Robin projects her voice as she answers Steve, wanting to make sure you heard her. “No! Because she’s 100% going to be a good girl and remove the rest of her things from my side by tonight.”
“I can hear you just fine, Buckley.” Steve says, not catching Robin’s angle.
“I’m sorry, were you talking to me?” You ask nonchalantly. You’re sitting at your vanity table, applying makeup without a care in the world.
“When are you planning to remove your things so I can properly settle in?” She asks, crossing her arms.
You roll your eyes, standing on your feet to approach, your arms also crossed. “I already did. What do you think that box up there is for?”
“There were only like 3 pairs of shoes in that thing.”
“Wrong! 5.” You correct.
Steve has never seen Robin standing firm in a confrontation. You must’ve really gotten under her skin and he’s starting to think that maybe he doesn’t have it so bad.
“Fine, you don’t want to remove your things. I guess there’ll just have to be some overlap, hmm?” Robin says, sending you a mischievous grin.
Going over to her bed, Robin rummages through her suitcase to pull out a rainbow flag before skipping over to your side to place over the “eat, pray, love” sign.
“Hey! You can’t do that or hang up that flag here. You’ll be in big trouble.” You exclaim.
“Then, try not to run your mouth to the feds. ‘Kay, gorgeous?” Robin says continue to pin up the flag.
“You take that down from my side.” You hiss, going on your tiptoes to claw at it. Robin is currently kneeling on top of your computer desk so you had no way of reaching her which made things all the more entertaining.
“You gonna remove your shit?” She asks.
“Yes.” You huff.
“Say it,” She taunts. “Say you’ll remove your shit.”
“I’ll remove my things. There I said it.” You pout with a defeated stomp.
“D’awww, miss goody two shoes refuses to curse?”
“My mouth isn’t meant for such vulgar things.” You reply, turning your nose up at her.
“Can’t say the same for myself, angel,” She quips, hopping off your computer desk. “Alright, I’m done teasing you. It’s been really fun though. Let’s do this some other time. My side of the room, maybe?”
You glare at her as she makes her way over to her friend, with him giving her a little nudge of approval.
———
After a long day of practice, you sorely trudge up to your dorm room. Your eyes are heavy from fatigue as you turn the key and swing the door open, only to be met with a sinful sight.
Robin and a fellow teammate, still dressed in their soccer uniforms, were making out in her bed. Robin’s hand was down the girl’s tight shorts as she moaned against her lips, grinding down on her hands.
You’re frozen, watching in both horror and intrigue as the girl pants hotly and heavily into the still air. Shaking out of the trance, you announce your presence with a drop of your purse onto your furry rug.
The girl quickly jumps away, ashamed but Robin is clearly amused.
“Um, I-I’ll see you tomorrow in Statistics, Robin.” She whispers, before quickly rushing out the room with her things.
“Just how many girl kissers are on this campus?” You scoff.
“More than you think.” Robin answers.
“This campus needs the fear of God. I’ll be praying for its salvation,” You reply before looking Robin up and down. “And maybe yours.”
“Am I finally touching a soft spot? Cause it sounds like you don’t want me going to hell,” Robin smirks, removing her knee high socks. “You’ll miss me too much I guess.”
“Puh-lease, you aren’t touching any part of me,” You snort. “I just feel compelled to pray for those who are lost. Maybe one day, you’ll see the light.”
Robin makes a show of her licking her fingers clean before she answers with a slick comment. “I’ve seen it plenty.”
“You don’t mind if I hit the showers before you, right?” Robin says.
“Why hadn’t you done that before I got here?” You say through gritted teeth.
“Well, I was planning to do just that but Vickie and I got a little carried away—”
“Fine, just go.” You interject.
“You really are an angel, angel.” She praises, walking into the bathroom with a sway of her hips.
————
Robin is busy snoring away in peaceful slumber when she’s rudely awoken by your prayer. Usually it never bothers her but when you’re literally sat 3 feet away from her, that becomes her problem.
“What are you doing on my side?” Robin inquires, rubbing her eyes.
She noticed the way your thigh clenched a little at the rasp in her voice. You’re clearly not immune to attraction as sexless and sinless as you may seem.
“I’m praying for your salvation as I said I would.” You say.
“You couldn’t do that from your part of the room?” She asks.
“Well, how else am I supposed to reach you? I’m ensuring the connection’s strong enough.” You say.
“Is that so?” She asks, cocking her head to the side. “This isn’t some kind of excuse for you to be near me?”
“W-why would I want to be near you? I wouldn’t want to be at risk of you falling in love with me or something.” You say, face heating up.
“You must have some kind of magical pot of gold between your legs to make me want to fall for you, cupcake. No offense but I’m not exactly into the spoiled, holier than thou types.”
You gasp. “Well, if I were into girls, I wouldn’t want you because you’re unserious all the time and crass.”
“Someone’s got to be around here,” She says, throwing her hands up. “It’s like you all walk around like you suck on lemons for the hell of it. Maybe instead try sucking on my stra—“
“John 3 verse 16, ‘For god so loved the world…’” You begin.
“What…are you doing?”
“Reciting the bible,” You explain before continuing. “‘…that he gave his only begotten son, that whoever believes in him should not perish—”
“I’m going back to sleep, angel. Wake me up when you’re done spiraling at the thought of girls liking girls.” She mutters, laying her head back against her pillow.
“I won’t give up on you, Buckley. God has plans for all us and I’m sure he has one especially for you,” You say, plopping down on her bed. “Why, you could be anything in his eyes. Touching the hearts of people in even as insignificant as your career as either a retail associate, or a retail supervisor, or a retail store manager—“
“Why am I only working in retail?” Robin asks knowing she should regret speaking with you any further.
“Aren’t you majoring in services?”
“Public relations.”
“Is that not the same thing?” You ask, batting your lashes in a daze.
“Go to bed, angel. Unless you’re looking to share a bed with me.”
“In your dreams.” You say.
“Then, leave me alone.” She says before flopping back against her pillows to rest.
————
You approach Robin on the field with a beaming smile, shaking your pom-poms in her face. “Buckley, you were super interactive in bible study today. I bet you’ve been feeling different lately. You can thank my prayers for that.”
“Huh? I was wondering why I’ve been a lot gayer lately. Guess I really do have you to thank,” She jokes. “I was only interacting because I wanted the participation points by the way.”
“Why do you insist on resisting?” You say, putting your foot down.
“Funny, I could ask you the same thing.” She scoffs.
“I’ll have you know that I’m not…” Your words begin to drift, tuned out for a moment as Robin catches a glimpse of one of the clumsier teammates, Amy, attempting to kick a goal into the net. The ball completely misses its mark before heading towards the back of your head.
Obliviously, you continue to rant until Robin’s sudden catching of the ball makes you jump at her quick reflexes. You’re hyperventilating, looking her up in her eyes with a timid look.
She holds the ball in between your bodies.
“You were saying, angel?”
“W-we’re continuing this discussion in our dorm.” You say.
“I’ll be counting down the minutes.” She says sarcastically.
You angrily stomp away and she quickly turns to join her team but for a moment, at the exact same time, the two of you look back at one another; lingering stares.
————
Robin is busy reading her book on her bed when she hears you sobbing in the bathroom. When you enter your shared bedroom once again, you attempt to hide your face and discreetly wipe your tears. Placing the book down, she looks at you with concern in her eyes.
“Hey, angel. Everything okay?”
“Like you care.” You say dryly.
“I care,” She says softly, patting the empty space beside her. “Come on up. I’m known to be a very good listener. My friend Stephen says so.”
You sniffle. “I thought his name was Steve.”
“What are we talking about again?” Robin quips.
“You have a strange sense of humor.” You laugh, climbing in the spot beside her.
“So I’ve been told,” She grins. “Now who’s got you, the ice queen, crying?”
“You’ll pay for that nickname,” You say, an empty threat, before explaining. “It’s my parents. For the second time in a row, they won’t be coming to family day here. Plenty of times they’ve cancelled on very important events of mine but still I could never get used to it. I’m just so tired of being alone at a Barnes & Nobles all day just so I could avoid anyone from asking me about my family.”
“I’m really sorry,” She says sincerely, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “If it’s any comfort, all parents suck. Mine sent me here because they refuse to accept who I am. They think it’s all a phase and that this school will ‘fix’ me.”
“Maybe they just wanted the best for you.”
“What’s best for me is that I get to be me…not what they think I should be,” Robin argues. “Who am I kidding? You wouldn’t get it. Little miss perfect over here.”
“I’m not perfect but my god is—”
“Oh for the love of—”
“Proverbs 3 verses 5 through 6…”
“This again?”
“It says ‘trust in the lord—“
“Yeah, I really don’t care what it says.” She dismisses, reaching over you for her book. The sudden proximity of your bodies, reminds her of the heat radiating from you. You’re abnormally hot. Feverish yet no actual fever. She looks into your eyes and you stare back into those big enticing ones of hers. Her eyes dart down to your lips as if to tell you of her plans and like a magnet your lips draw near. Just as they’re about to collide, you pull away at the last second, turning your head to one side.
“I’m going to read the bible before bedtime,” You announce, standing on your feet. “Have a goodnight.”
She remains in position still taking in what just happened but you refuse to let it sink in, going over to your bed.
Flipping to a random chapter, you force yourself to focus on your reading out loud, hoping it could take the urge to kiss her away. But when you find her making her way towards you, you don’t bring your eyes on her. Instead, you keep them on the page as she begins to tug your shorts down.
She pulls you by your legs, sliding you down the mattress just enough to pry your legs apart. Your pussy is still clothed, the white lace—a thin barrier from her eager tongue lips and pouty lips. She licks an experimental swipe of her tongue along the gusset, tasting the juices that soaked through them.
She groans, placing butterfly kisses along your inner thighs. The bible has long fallen between your fingers as they now take home in her dirty blonde hair, gripping the strands as you grind against her face.
“Can I take these off?” She asks.
“Mhm.” You answer, teeth still biting your bottom lip. You expect her to carry a smirk on her face at your permission, as if she’d won some kind of game. Instead, all that she holds in her features is gratitude as she drags your panties slowly down your clean shaven legs.
She stares down at your glistening pussy, creamy juices seeping and collecting at the edges of your plump lips like a divine dew.
She greedily licks at it with her tongue, eyes focusing on you as she does so and you whine at this. It’s erotic. It’s alluring. How could something this good be considered bad?
She curls her arms around your thick thighs, fingers sinking into the fat of it as she hungrily indulges herself in you.
“You taste even better than I could’ve ever imagined.” She moans.
“You’ve thought about doing this…with me?” You ask, breath hitching when her lips close around your throbbing clit.
“More times than I can keep track of.” She admits, whispering softly against your sensitive cunt, circling the bud with her tongue.
“I’ve never done this before. Not with anyone.” You gasp.
“No wonder you taste as sweet as cherry pie.” Robin comments, eating you with more ferocity at your admission.
Now you understand why the girl breathed as if she were losing air. Every breath you take is stolen with every lap of Robin’s tongue. Oh, and when she pushes it inside your hole is when you really begin to whine out in pleasure.
“So good, Robin,” You mewl. “Never felt like this before. Never ever.”
She dips her tongue low enough to play with your puckered hole for a little, adding a finger into the mix. You squeal at the sudden intrusion before moaning at the combination of her mouth eating your meaty cunt while her finger twisted and thrusted inside your ass.
Your legs begin to shake, eyes rolling into the back of your head. “I think I’m gonna cum. Fuck, Robin. Please.”
Her free hand creeps up your stomach, pulling up your tank top over your breasts and exposing them for her to play and pluck at the hardened buds.
“Oh my god, oh my god.” You moan, surprised at yourself. You’ve cursed and now you’re taking the lord’s name in vain.
“Mmm, you’re close. Aren’t you, angel? You’re soaking and your legs can barely stay apart,” Robin coos, kneading your thighs before prying them apart again. “You gonna be a good girl and keep your legs apart while I make you cum for me.”
“Y-yes, baby.” You answer, letting her push your legs closer to your body as you held them by the backs of your knees.
She’s even nastier with devouring you, wiggling her tongue about and making the sloppiest noises possible. If anyone were to put their ear to the door, there would be no denying the activity.
“Oh fuck, I’m cumming, Robin. I’m fucking cumming. Shiiiiit.” You cry, feeling yourself squeeze around your plunging tongue and coating it further with your honeyed essence.
She collects it all with devotion for you, getting herself off as her ass rests high in the air, throbbing pussy soaking through the material of her own pajama pants.
You shake violently as she continues to drink you in through your convulsions. You eventually force her away and she gets the memo, licking her lips and fingers as if you were the best meal she’s had in a while.
“Fuck, that was good.” She laughs, laying beside you.
You get a wicked plan and jump in between her legs with the enthusiasm of a puppy, tugging at her pants.
“Could I maybe return the favor? I can’t guarantee I’ll be as talented as you but I’m willing to learn.” You say but just the moment after you finish your sentence her lips are on yours and you get a taste of yourself. It’s an addicting mix of her and you that you fear you’ll crave everyday.
“Maybe another time. You deserve some rest,” Robin says, brushing a strand from your face and kissing the top of your forehead.
She goes to the bathroom, retrieving a washcloth to clean the sticky mess between your thighs. She also gathers some mouthwash for the two of you to wash out the aftertaste and though you’re reluctant to do so in your usual bratty fashion, wanting to savor the taste. You eventually comply, though. Lastly, she grabs a clean pair of underwear for you to wear before she’s taking you into her arms again and cuddling you into the cold winter night. And neither of you are willing to let go.
ᴀ/ɴ: What's behind door two? Let's find out, shall we?
thank you for your time and I hope you enjoy!
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sebastian x Fem!Reader
(ᴀ/ɴ: I CANNOT believe I have written Sebastian. I can't write this man for the LIFE of me, but I hope you enjoy what I wrote nonethless :D).
ᴡᴄ: 1095 words
ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: dirty talk, degrading, unprotected sex, kinda public sex, pretty much getting caught, cream pie, cursing.
Sebastian loved winter, and there were so many reasons for him to do so! The sun was really weak, the air was nice and cold which meant that he wasn’t sweating his balls off the moment he set foot outside (fuck that, he didn’t sweat his balls off from just lying in bed), and best of all? Society didn’t fucking expect him to go out just because the weather was nice. Quite the opposite! It was perfectly acceptable to stay bundled up inside of your fucking house, the most he had to do was to look out a window every now and then and sigh wistfully – that was his fucking jam!
So, now riddle him this – how the hell had he ended up on Ginger fucking Island, where the sun showed no fucking mercy, making him sweat his balls off? Ginger Island, one of the most crowded places to be, given that most people used this as an escape of the winter wonderland back home? Why the hell was he allowing the sand to burn his feet, even though he could be at home, in his bed, aimlessly scrolling social media, maybe, and he would never admit that, making himself some hot cocoa and admire the Winterstar tree his mom had set up?
Well, the riddle wasn’t all too hard to solve – the reason he was on this stupid island was right in front of him, looking up at him with those glazed-over eyes, bikini top messily tugged down to reveal kiss-bitten, spit-covered tits that bounced with each thrust that he oh so cruelly hammered into your messy cunt.
“That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it, baby? Dragging me out here? Cock stuffed in your dirty little whore cunt in a fucking changing room? Chose the busiest day of the week, too, it seems…Would be a shame if anyone heard how good I am fucking you, huh? Or maybe that’s what you fucking want…Oh, fuck yeah, you are clenching around me baby- that’s exactly what you fucking want, yeah? Letting them all hear who’s fucking you dumb, who’s making you a fuckin’ whore for dick,” He whispered, voice nothing above a dangerous snarl as his hips mercilessly kept up his pace, only fucking you harder when he felt your cunt wrap tighter, sucking off his cock oh so sweetly. You see, Sebastian hadn’t even planned for this to happen. Sure, he had let you persuade him to join you, but he had fully expected to sit in the sand for an hour, maybe watch you swim or play volleyball with you, and then get the fuck out of there again, settle back in his castle of ice (his basement, but don’t blame him! It was fucking cold down there).
Plans had changed as soon as you stepped out of that changing room in that new bikini, grinning at him proudly. “I got it on sale!” You had told him, letting that waistband of the colourful bikini bottom snap against your paling hips. And well, you had told him to have fun at the beach, hadn’t you? And this was his way of having fun – you impaled on his cock, head thrown back as you tried desperately to hold back those sweet, sweet sounds that were threatening to spill, sounds that would be revealing what the two of you were up to, pressed together with one of your legs hooked around his hips, allowing him deeper access in that gorgeous cunt of yours. Sebastian didn’t have the heart to tell you that you that your pussy was already doing a good job of betraying you, squelching loudly as he forced it to take his quick, hard fucks. “That’s it, baby. That’s fucking it, look at you. You look gorgeous on my dick, you do know that, don’tcha? And your cunt is just sooo wet for me, fuuuuck… You make even summer pleasant for me, baby. That’s right, squeeze my cock- Good. Fucking. Girl,” he snapped, cock seemingly trying to pound his words into you, making sure you would forever remember who you belonged to – him, and only him. He let out a shaky breath as he bottomed out inside of you again, hand digging into your plush ass to give you fast, little fucks, making your mouth hang open, eyes rolling back in your skull.
Seb felt his heart swell in his chest, his cock throbbing numbly in your wet pussy. Yoba, you had him tied down and locked up, had him ready to bow to your every little whim, and he just wanted to fuck it into you how much you meant to him.
“That’s fuckin’ it, baby. That’ssssss it, cum for me. Cum all over my cock, baby, c’mon- know you can do it for me, sweet angel,” he growled, trying to bite back and swallow his own moan as you looked at him like this, so stupid, thoughts long gone, only concerned with getting fucked and being able to gush around him. Yoba, did you know that you were his greatest gift on earth? Whatever would be under the tree on the Feast Of The Winterstar couldn’t keep up with you. Couldn’t keep up with the way you broke down on his cock, letting that high-pitched moan slip. Couldn’t keep up with the way your nails dug in his back and dragged down, down, down. Couldn’t keep up with the way you silently mouthed “I love you” as you came undone on his dick, back arched in oh so prettily.
Shit, he loved you too. Way more than you would ever know. Or maybe you did? He had come here for you after all – and not even to fill you up with ropes of cum like he was doing now, accompanied by a little groan of your name, breathed against your neck where he was hiding his face away, fucking his cum inside of you to make sure you would feel it all the way home.
“I love you, too, my little raindrop,” he panted, kissing the sensitive skin of your neck, making you sob out quietly.
“Come on, guys! I wanna make it fucking home before the fuckin’ Feast, idiots!” A voice suddenly called, big fist slamming against the door, an obvious grump seemingly having waited long enough. Sebastian gave you a chuckle, looking down at your fucked out form, feeling that swell in his chest again.
“Come on, let’s get outta here,” he whispered, helping you adjust your bikini. Too bad you couldn’t even get to the sea.
warning: neck kisses, unprotected sex (pls be careful!!)
3RD PERSON’S POV
She sent him something, something interesting. He checked his phone, it’s a picture, a slutty picture, he’s going to go home to see why she sent him a picture like this while he’s working.
When he got home, he sees her in what she sent him several minutes ago, a black lacey lingerie, he wanted her, wanted her bad. He went up to her to make her go to the wall, she already knew what will happen to her when she sent the picture of her.
He picked her up to take them to their bedroom, he sets her on the bed and he unzips the back of her lingerie to make her take it off and make him see her nude body.
He begins to kiss her neck, to make her giggle at the way he kissing her. She makes him look at her and then she begins to kiss him and she pulls him onto her body, he pulls her to hug her and takes them to the pillows.
She helped him out of his clothes so they could do something that they haven’t done in a while because of them working all the time.
They make love for hours. The way he went in and out of her, the way she moaned and gasp at the way he did it.
After a while, you can hear heavy breathing by them being done with what they’re doing.
‘I hope I can wear lingerie once in a while.’ She thought in her head.
I hope you all enjoyed this years kinkmas!! Because I sure did 😀😀 even with all my technical difficulties and literally having to skip a whole ass day (it’s still coming) I had a lot of fun 😌😌 I hope you all have an amazing rest of the year and an even better 2025!
Day 1: Tinsel Bondage - Reacher x Reader
Home Alone, 1990
Day 2: Mrs. Claus - Steve Rogers
Elf, 2003
Day 3: Breeding - Jim Hopper
Love Actually, 2003
Day 4: By The Fire - Steve Harrington
Violent Night, 2022
Day 5: Mistletoe - Charlie Swan
Gremlins, 1984
Day 6: Hot Tub in the Snow - Eddie Diaz
How the Grinch Stole Christmas
Day 7: Edible Panties - Eddie Diaz
Die Hard, 1988
Day 8: Dirty Polaroids - Anakin Skywalker
Edward Scissorhands, 1990
Day 9: Snowed In - Bucky Barnes
Krampus, 2015
Day 10: One Bed -Joel Miller
Last Holiday, 2006
Day 11: Kitchen Counter - Evan Buckley
The Polar Express, 2004
Day 12: Tipsy/ Eggnog - Carlisle Cullen
A Christmas Carol, 2009
I am not paying $15.99 I will deal with the watermark okay it was a cute banner 😭😭😭
WARNINGS - this drink may include the following: fem!reader, use of y/n, phone sex, teasing, marking, oral (fem!receiving), mutual masturbation, use of the word 'god' (not really a warning, however apparently people get triggered by it, so, y'know), swearing, only proof-read once - I think that's all, but please let me know if I missed anything^^
ALC percentage - 5.7%
(5.7k words)
the stream was in full swing, the chat buzzing with emotes and inside jokes as Shoto leaned back in his chair, his mischievous grin practically lighting up the screen. his voice carried that playful confidence his fans adored, and his vtuber model mimicked his smirk perfectly.
"alright, chat," he drawled, glancing at the cascading wall of messages. "we’ve got a guest today - someone you all seem to be obsessed with. can you guess who it is?"
the chat immediately exploded with excitement: "IT'S HER!!" and "FINALLY LET'S GO!"
"you guessed it. let’s welcome the one and only-" he paused, dragging it out just long enough to make the anticipation unbearable. "our very own shy queen."
the discord call connected, and your voice came through, soft but warm. "hi, Shoto. hi, chat."
the stream erupted with hearts and inside jokes. Shoto tilted his head slightly, his avatar following suit, as he leaned closer to his mic. "you sound nervous, y/n. am I making you blush already?"
you chuckled softly. "you wish, Shoto."
the chat exploded.
for the next hour, the two of you bounced off each other effortlessly, the rhythm of teasing and laughter keeping the energy alive. Shoto, true to form, leaned into his flirtatious side, making sure the chat was in on the fun.
"you’re too quiet, y/n," he teased, his voice dipping into mock seriousness. "you’re supposed to help me carry the stream! unless…" he leaned closer, his avatar’s mischievous smirk sharpening as his tone softened. "you just like hearing me talk, huh?"
the audience immediately erupted, spamming "HE'S AT IT AGAIN" and "RIZZ MASTER."
Shoto grinned, fully expecting the usual shy laugh and change of topic. but this time, you surprised him.
"you know," you said after a pause, your voice light but steady, "I do like hearing you talk. it’s cute: watching you try so hard to impress me."
the silence on his end was deafening, though only for a moment. his vtuber model stilled for half a second before suddenly throwing its arms up in exaggerated shock as Shoto burst out laughing.
"WHOA, WHOA, WHOA!" he screamed out, leaning back in his chair, his avatar mimicking the motion. the chat erupted, spamming "SHE GOT HIM" and "CLIP IT CLIP IT!"
Shoto covered his face with his hands, his voice breaking into a flustered laugh. "y/n, you can’t just - where did THAT come from?!"
you grinned, enjoying his reaction. "what? you flirt with everyone all the time. I figured it was my turn."
"your turn?!" Shoto repeated, tugging at his hoodie strings. his model mimicked the motion, his face still red as he stammered. "chat, help me! she’s turning the tables, and I wasn’t ready for it!"
the chat doubled down, spamming "SHE'S TOO POWERFUL" and "RIZZ WAR DECLARED."
"alright, alright," he said finally, pointing toward the camera like he was accusing you of a crime. "you win this round. but don’t think I’m letting you off easy next time."
you giggled, your usual shyness melting away as you leaned into the playful atmosphere. "looking forward to it."
for the rest of the stream, Shoto was visibly more cautious, his usual flirtatious quips replaced with dramatic pauses as though gauging your next move. the chat noticed too, poking fun at how he was now "playing it safe."
but everyone could tell - this new dynamic was only the beginning.
the stream wound down after another hour of playful banter and shared laughter, the tension from your earlier comment still lingering in the air. Shoto’s usual energy had shifted slightly - not lessened, but… focused. every time you spoke, he seemed to hang on your words just a little longer, and the chat didn’t miss a thing.
"HE'S BLUSHING AGAIN," they spammed. "HER RIZZ IS TOO STRONG."
"alright chat," Shoto said, his voice carrying an edge of finality, though he still wore that trademark smirk. "it’s about time to wrap things up. any last words for y/n before we kick her out of the discord call forever?"
you snorted softly. "kicking me out already? I thought I was carrying the stream, Shoto."
the chat loved it, spamming "SHE'S TOO SAVAGE" and "ROUND TWO INCOMING."
"okay, okay," he replied, leaning back in his chair. his avatar mimicked the motion, arms crossing over its chest in a mock pout. "you carried… for like, ten minutes. I did most of the work."
"sure you did," you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm.
Shoto chuckled, his laughter trailing off into a quieter hum as the chat started spamming goodbyes and hearts. "alright y/n, say goodbye to the gremlins before they start crying."
you laughed. "bye, chat. thanks for having me!"
as the discord call ended and the stream screen transitioned to Shoto’s “thank you for watching” animation, you sighed softly, leaning back in your chair. and just as you were about to close the discord tab, Shoto’s voice popped back in through a private call.
"hey…" he said, his tone noticeably softer now that the stream was over. "got a second?"
you clicked to rejoin the call, your curiosity piqued. "what’s up?"
there was a pause, the comfortable hum of silence stretching between you two. then he spoke again, his voice losing its usual bravado.
"so…" he began, drawing out the word as though testing the waters. "you really caught me off guard earlier."
you grinned, your confidence from the stream still lingering. "oh? wasn’t that the point?"
"okay, listen," he said, laughing lightly, though it carried a nervous edge. you’re not supposed to turn my own game against me. that’s illegal."
"illegal?" you teased. "I thought it was fair play."
"you’re dangerous," he replied, and this time his voice dipped just slightly - a subtle shift that sent a shiver down your spine. "and I don’t think you realize what you started."
his words hung in the air, the playful tone from earlier now carrying something heavier, something more deliberate. you felt your cheeks warm, though you couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or anticipation.
"careful, Shoto," you replied, your voice quieter now. "you’re making it sound like you’re planning your revenge already."
there was a low chuckle on his end, the kind that made your breath hitch. "oh, I’m not planning anything." he paused, his voice softening even further. "i’m just thinking about how bold you were today. it was…new."
"did you not like it?" you asked, your heart pounding.
"like it?" he echoed, a teasing lilt creeping back into his tone. "I loved it. but now I’m wondering if that boldness is just for show… or if it’s real."
your breath caught in your throat. there it was - that unspoken tension that had been simmering beneath the surface all night, now bubbling to the top.
"why don’t you find out?" you said before you could stop yourself, the words slipping out in a low, almost challenging tone.
the line went quiet for a moment, the weight of your words settling. when Shoto finally spoke, his voice was low, almost a whisper.
"careful, y/n," he said, his usual teasing replaced with something darker, more intimate. "you might not be ready for what happens if I do."
the silence after his words was deafening, the weight of them settling deep in your chest. you could hear your own heartbeat, pounding steadily in your ears as Shoto’s soft laughter broke through the quiet.
"speechless?" he teased, his voice carrying a low hum of satisfaction. "that’s a first."
you swallowed hard, gripping your phone a little tighter. his confidence was intoxicating, but the shift in his tone - the way it lingered in that space between teasing and serious - made your pulse quicken.
"not speechless," you countered, your voice steady despite the nerves bubbling in your stomach. "just wondering if you’re all talk."
that earned a sharp inhale from his end. his chuckle returned, darker now, like you’d just issued a challenge he was eager to accept.
"y/n," he said softly, his voice curling around your name in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. "you’re playing a dangerous game right now."
"and you’re the one who started it," you shot back, though your tone betrayed the mix of excitement and hesitation you felt.
"fair enough," he murmured, and you could hear the shift in his posture - the faint creak of his chair as he leaned forward, as if closing the distance between you, even through the screen.
the air between you felt thick now, the playful edge giving way to something far more intense.
"you know," he began, his voice quieter now, almost intimate. "i’ve always wondered how far you’d let me take this. the teasing, the flirting... I didn’t think you’d ever actually bite back."
"well, you seemed so confident," you replied, letting your voice dip just slightly, testing the waters. "I didn’t think you’d fluster so easily."
a low groan slipped from his lips, and you swore you heard his chair creak again. "you’re gonna regret saying that," he muttered, though there was no malice in his tone - just a simmering heat that sent your thoughts spiraling.
"am I?" you whispered, your voice barely audible, yet enough to make him pause.
for a moment, you thought he might laugh it off, but instead, he let the silence hang, heavy and charged. when he finally spoke, his words sent a jolt through you.
"turn your camera on."
your breath hitched. the request was simple, but the command in his tone left no room for argument.
"Shoto-"
"please." he added quickly, softening the edge just enough to make it feel like a choice. "I want to see you."
your hands trembled slightly as you adjusted your webcam, the soft click of the activation sounding louder than it should have. when your face appeared on your screen, you saw his vtuber model react in sync with him - his usual mischievous smirk replaced with a more focused expression, his avatar leaning in as if he were truly watching you.
"hi…" you said softly, feeling vulnerable under his gaze.
"hi," he murmured back, his voice lower now. "you look... flushed."
you bit your lip, suddenly hyper-aware of how warm your face felt. "well, whose fault is that?"
"mine." he said without hesitation, his smirk returning. "and I’m not done yet."
your breath hitched as his model leaned closer, and you could feel the tension in his voice. “you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to see this side of you, y/n. you’re usually so shy. it’s cute, but… this?"
"what about this?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
"this confidence," he said, his tone dropping further. "it’s driving me crazy."
his words sent a jolt of heat through you, and you couldn’t stop the small smile that crept onto your lips. "good," you replied, surprising even yourself with your boldness.
there was a sharp intake of breath on his end. "god, you’re gonna kill me," he muttered, his voice carrying a raw edge that sent shivers down your spine.
for a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence filled with the weight of everything unspoken between you. when he finally broke it, his voice was barely audible.
"if I were there right now," he began, his words slow and deliberate, "I wouldn’t hold back."
"then it’s a good thing you’re not," you replied, though your voice wavered slightly.
"why’s that?" he asked, his tone sharp, challenging.
"because I wouldn’t either," you admitted, the words slipping out before you could think twice.
his low growl of approval sent a wave of heat crashing through you. "y/n..."
the way he said your name felt like a caress, and suddenly, the distance between you felt unbearable.
"tell me what you’d do," he said, his voice rough with restraint.
your heart pounded in your chest as his words wrapped around you, pulling you into a heady mix of anticipation and desire. the playful banter from earlier felt like a distant memory now, replaced by something far more intimate, far more dangerous.
"i’d…" you hesitated, feeling the weight of his gaze even through the screen. "i’d make you regret teasing me so much."
his laugh was soft, almost disbelieving. "oh, i’d love to see you try."
your confidence surged, the tension between you thick and electric. "maybe one day you will."
"i’ll hold you to that," he said, his voice a low promise.
the call stretched on for multiple hours, as the line between teasing and something far deeper had vanished. Shoto’s voice, warm and low through your headphones, filled the quiet of your room. the tension between you had reached its peak, and neither of you seemed willing - or able - to pull back.
"I don’t think you realize what you’re doing to me," he said, his voice rougher now, like he was struggling to keep his composure.
"what am I doing to you?" you asked, a playful lilt in your tone, though your body betrayed the growing ache that his words ignited.
"everything," he admitted without hesitation, the single word wrapping around you like a tether, pulling you closer to the edge of something you’d never expected.
the camera feed was still on, his vtuber model animating on one side of your screen, but the image seemed distant now, insignificant compared to the sound of his voice and the heat in his words.
"you have no idea how long I’ve thought about this," he continued, his tone slow, deliberate. "hearing your voice like this, knowing how flustered you are right now. it’s driving me insane."
"i’m not flustered," you tried to argue, though the breathy quality of your voice gave you away.
Shoto chuckled softly, and the sound sent shivers down your spine. "don’t lie to me, y/n. I can hear it in your voice. you’re just as caught up in this as I am."
your cheeks burned as his words pulled a soft gasp from your lips. you shifted slightly in your seat, the ache between your thighs growing impossible to ignore.
"and you’re not helping," you muttered, your voice quieter now.
"good," he replied, his voice dropping lower. "I don’t want to help. I want to make it worse."
the intensity in his tone made your breath hitch, and you bit your lip to keep from making a sound. Shoto’s sharp intake of breath told you he knew exactly what you were doing.
"don’t do that," he said softly, his voice almost a growl.
"do what?"
"bite your lip," he replied, his words sending a jolt of heat through you. "you don’t know what it does to me."
a rush of boldness surged through you, and you leaned closer to your mic, your voice dropping into a whisper. "what if I do know?"
silence followed, heavy and charged, before Shoto let out a low, frustrated groan.
"y/n, you’re killing me," he muttered, his voice strained.
"good," you replied, echoing his earlier words, your confidence growing with every sound he made.
the air between you crackled with unspoken desire, the distance between your two rooms feeling unbearably vast. you could hear the subtle shift of his chair, the faint rustle of fabric as he adjusted himself, and the thought sent a flush of heat through your body.
"tell me what you’re doing right now," he said suddenly, his voice rough with need.
Your breath hitched, the vulnerability of the question sending a thrill through you. "I…" you hesitated, your pulse pounding in your ears.
"don’t hold back," he urged, his tone softening just enough to coax you forward. "I want to hear you."
your fingers trembled as you trailed them over the hem of your shirt, your voice barely audible as you replied. "i’m…touching myself."
a low curse slipped from his lips, the sound unraveling what little composure you had left. "fuck, y/n," he muttered, his voice filled with raw want. "you have no idea how much I wish I could be there right now."
"tell me what you’d do," you whispered, your own voice trembling with anticipation.
Shoto’s response was immediate, his words spilling out in a husky rush. "i’d start slow," he said, his voice like a caress. "my hands on your thighs, pushing them apart so I could see you. i’d take my time, make you beg for it."
a soft whimper escaped your lips at the vividness of his words, and Shoto groaned in response.
"are you touching yourself now?" you asked, your voice barely a breath.
"yeah," he admitted, the rawness in his tone making your whole body thrum with heat. "I can’t stop thinking about you. the way you sound, the way you’d feel under me..."
his words broke something in you, and you let your own restraint slip, your soft gasps filling the space between his deep, ragged breaths. the distance between you no longer mattered - every word, every sound, pulled you closer together, until it felt like you were sharing the same space, the same air.
"Shoto," you murmured, his name slipping from your lips like a plea.
"i’m here," he replied, his voice a quiet promise. "i’ve got you."
your breath came in soft, uneven gasps, your hand brushing over your thighs as Shoto’s voice wrapped around you, pulling you deeper into the moment. his tone, once playful, was now rough and unrestrained, each word carrying the weight of his desire.
"y/n," he murmured, your name falling from his lips like a prayer. "tell me what you’re feeling right now."
your cheeks burned as your fingers slipped beneath the hem of your shorts, trailing over the sensitive skin just above your inner thigh. "I feel…" you hesitated, your voice trembling with need, "warm…needy."
Shoto’s low groan echoed through your headphones, sending a shiver down your spine. "fuck," he muttered, his breath hitching. "keep going. tell me everything."
you bit your lip, your movements tentative as your fingers dipped lower, brushing against the damp fabric between your thighs. "i’m so wet," you whispered, your voice barely audible.
"god," he breathed, his voice filled with longing. "do you have any idea what you’re doing to me right now?"
"tell me," you urged, your confidence building with every sound he made as your hand slipped the fabric of your underwear to the side.
his voice dropped lower, rough with restraint. "i’m so hard, y/n. I can’t stop thinking about you."
the confession sent a jolt of heat through your body, and you let out a soft moan, unable to hold back. Shoto’s sharp intake of breath told you he’d heard it, and his reaction only fueled your need.
"let me hear you," he said, his tone commanding but tender. "I want to know exactly how good you feel."
your fingers slipped beneath the fabric you just pulled to the side, gliding over the slick heat between your thighs. you let out a soft, breathy whimper, your head falling back against the chair as you lost yourself in the sensations.
"that’s it," Shoto murmured, his voice like a caress. "touch yourself for me. pretend it’s me."
your movements quickened as you dipped your ring finger into your pussy, your breaths growing heavier as his words spurred you on. "Shoto," you gasped, his name falling from your lips like a mantra.
"i’m right here," he replied, his own voice thick with arousal. you could hear the faint, rhythmic sounds on his end, his breathing uneven as he worked himself in time with you.
"I want to feel you," you whispered, the words slipping out before you could think. "I want your hands on me, your lips..."
"say it," he urged, his voice tight with need. "tell me exactly what you want me to do to you."
your inhibitions melted away under the weight of his voice, and you let the words flow freely. "I want you to pin me down," you confessed, your voice trembling with a mix of shyness and boldness. "I want to feel your hands on my thighs, your fingers inside me…"
Shoto groaned deeply, the sound sending a wave of heat crashing over you. "fuck, y/n," he muttered, his voice strained. "i’d spread you open so I could see every inch of you. i’d take my time, make you beg for more."
the vividness of his words sent you spiraling as you added your middle finger, the added friction only fueling you on as your movements grew desperate and you chased the release building inside you. your soft gasps and whimpers filled the space between you, mixing with Shoto’s rough, uneven breaths.
"i’m close," you whispered, your voice barely audible.
"me too," he replied, his tone ragged. "cum for me, y/n. let me hear you."
the command in his voice pushed you over the edge, and you cried out, your body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you. Shoto followed moments later, his deep, guttural groan filling your headphones as he reached his own release.
the silence that followed was warm and heavy, the air between you still charged with the intimacy of the moment.
"y/n," Shoto murmured after a while, his voice soft and filled with affection.
"yeah?" you replied, your heart still racing.
"I meant what I said," he continued, his tone quieter now, more vulnerable. "if I were there, I wouldn’t be able to hold back."
you smiled, a warmth spreading through your chest. "maybe one day you won’t have to."
the heat between you hadn’t subsided, not even hours later. after you’d both succumbed to the intimacy of the moment, the call lingered on, neither of you willing to let go of the connection you’d found. Shoto’s voice, once playful and teasing, had softened, carrying a warmth that made your heart ache in the best way.
"are you still thinking about it?" he asked, his voice low and intimate.
"about what?" you teased, though the flush in your cheeks betrayed you.
"don’t play coy," he murmured. "you know exactly what."
your lips curved into a smile as you leaned back in your chair, feeling the warmth of the screen light on your skin. "maybe I am," you admitted, your voice soft but honest.
"good," he replied, the smirk audible in his tone. "because I can’t stop thinking about it either. about you."
the weight of his words settled over you, sending a thrill through your chest. for so long, the playful banter between you had felt safe, like a dance you both knew the steps to. but now, it was different - real, raw, and impossible to ignore.
"you know," he began, a hint of hesitation creeping into his voice, "i’ve been thinking about seeing you. for real."
your breath caught, your heart skipping a beat as his words hung in the air. "you mean…?"
"in person," he clarified, his tone firmer now. "I want to meet you, y/n. I want to see your face, hear your voice without a mic, hold you..."
the vulnerability in his voice made your chest tighten, and you felt a soft, giddy smile spread across your lips. "Shoto," you murmured, your voice tinged with affection. "i’d like that."
"yeah?" he asked, the excitement in his tone unmistakable.
"yeah," you replied, your heart racing at the mere thought.
the idea took root between you, growing more tangible with every passing minute. plans began to form - a weekend, a city, a quiet, private space where the two of you could finally let the tension between you reach its peak.
the hotel room was quiet, save for the soft hum of the air conditioning. you stood near the window, your heart pounding in your chest as you stared out at the city skyline. you’d arrived an hour ago, nerves buzzing in your veins as you waited for the knock on the door.
when it finally came, your breath caught, and you hesitated for a moment before crossing the room. your hand trembled slightly as you reached for the handle, the weight of everything leading up to this moment pressing down on you.
and then, you opened the door.
Shoto stood there, looking every bit as handsome as you’d imagined. his hair was slightly tousled, his dark eyes warm and intense as they met yours. for a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching between you as you took each other in.
"hi.." he said finally, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.
"hi.." you replied, your lips curving into a shy smile.
without another word, he stepped forward, his arms wrapping around you in a firm, grounding embrace. the scent of him - clean, warm, undeniably him - filled your senses, and you melted against him, your nerves easing as you felt the solid weight of his body against yours.
"you’re real…" he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.
"so are you…" you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.
when he pulled back, his hands lingered on your waist, his gaze searching yours as if to confirm that this moment wasn’t just a dream. slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tentative, gentle kiss.
it started soft, testing, but the heat between you ignited quickly. his hands slid up to cup your face, tilting your head to deepen the kiss as his tongue teased against yours. a soft whimper escaped your lips, and he groaned in response, his fingers tightening against your skin.
"do you have any idea how long i’ve wanted to do this?" he murmured against your lips, his voice rough with restraint.
"show me…" you whispered, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer.
he didn’t need to be told twice. his lips trailed down your jaw, pressing heated kisses along the curve of your neck as his hands roamed your body, exploring every inch of you he could reach. when his teeth scraped lightly against your skin, you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders.
"fuck-" he muttered, his breath hot against your neck. "you’re even more perfect than I imagined."
your knees buckled at his words, and he guided you back toward the bed, his body pressing you down against the cool sheets. his hands slipped beneath your shirt, the warmth of his palms sending shivers through you as he slid the fabric up and over your head.
"you’re beautiful," he murmured, his eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight of you.
heat rushed to your cheeks, but before you could respond, his lips were on yours again, hungry and demanding. his hands traced the curves of your body, his touch igniting a fire that burned through every inch of you.
when his lips trailed lower, leaving a path of wet kisses down your chest and stomach, you arched into him, your breath coming in soft, desperate gasps. the sensation of his hands and mouth on your skin was overwhelming, and the air between you was thick with anticipation, every small movement charged with electricity. Shoto's hands slid over your skin with deliberate care, his touch both firm and gentle, as if he were memorizing every curve and line of your body. his lips trailed over the soft skin of your neck, pausing to nip and suck, leaving purple and red marks that sent shivers through you.
"you're so sensitive…" he murmured against your skin, his voice filled with wonder and desire. "every little sound you make is driving me crazy."
your fingers tangled in his dark hair, tugging gently as you arched beneath him, your breaths coming in soft, uneven gasps. "you’re one to talk," you whispered, your voice trembling but teasing. "I can feel how much you want this."
a low groan escaped him at your words, and his hips pressed against yours, his erection evident even through the layers of clothing still between you. "you have no idea…" he muttered, his tone rough with restraint.
you reached for the hem of his shirt, your fingers brushing over the warm skin of his stomach as you tugged it upward. he helped you, pulling it off in one swift motion before leaning back over you, his bare chest pressing against yours. the heat of his skin against yours made your breath hitch, and you ran your hands over his shoulders, down his back, savoring the feel of him beneath your fingertips.
"god you’re beautiful…" he muttered, his lips brushing against your collarbone as his hands slid down to your hips. he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, his gaze meeting yours as he slowly began to tug them down. "can I?"
you nodded, your heart pounding in your chest as you lifted your hips to help him. his eyes darkened as the fabric slid away, leaving you in just your underwear. his hands roamed over your thighs, his touch both reverent and possessive, as if he couldn't get enough of you.
"god, y/n…" he whispered, his voice thick with desire.
the way he looked at you - like you were the only thing that mattered - made your cheeks flush, but the heat between your thighs demanded more. you reached for him, your hands moving to the button of his jeans, and he let out a sharp breath as you undid them, sliding them down his hips.
when he was finally as bare as you, he leaned down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. the weight of him pressed against you, his hard length evident even through his boxers, and you couldn't help but let out a soft whimper as your hips shifted instinctively toward him.
"patience," he murmured against your lips, his voice teasing but strained. "I want to take my time with you."
his words sent a shiver through you, and he began a slow exploration of your body, his lips and hands tracing every inch of you. his mouth found the sensitive peaks of your chest, his tongue flicking over one of your nipples before moving to the other, his hand kneading the soft flesh as he sucked gently on the skin.
"Shoto..!" you gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your body arched into him.
"that's it…" he murmured against you, his voice like a command. "let me hear you."
his lips trailed lower, leaving a path of kisses down your stomach, and when his tongue flicked out to tease the sensitive skin just around your still-clothed pussy, you let out a soft cry, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you.
"you're so wet," he murmured, his voice filled with awe. "is this all for me?"
"yes…" you whispered, your voice trembling with need. "only for you."
his eyes flicked up to meet yours, and the intensity in his gaze sent a wave of heat crashing over you. "good," he said softly, his breath warm against your skin. "because i’m not stopping until you’re screaming my name."
as he hears the soft whimpers you let put Shoto quikly drops his head down between your thighs. you let out a breathy sigh as he licks along your thigh, forming small, purple marks.
your head falls back against the pillow as Shoto drags open mouthed kisses up your thigh to your pussy, eyelids heavy and lips parting. you gasp, feeling his tongue sweep along your folds, almost teasing.
your fingers twist the sheets beneath you, back arching up off the bed as your hips jerk when Shoto sucks on your clit, his teeth grazing it just enough to let a shock run through your body.
he moans against you, not specifically loud, but obscene as one of your hands fly from the bed to his hair, tugging lightly at it.
you can feel the way he whimpers against you at your tugging, however he doesn’t look up at you, too focused on his tongue inside of you and the almost euphoric taste you bare. your thighs tighten around his head and you look down at him, your eyes half-lidded and bottom lip tugged into your mouth as you tug harder on his hair.
“fuck…” you breathe out, eyes widening slightly when you notice Shoto grinding his hips against the bed, desperate and erratic, trying to get himself off.
the sight alone sends a shock through your body, a loud moan escaping your throat as you push his head further into you, your lashes fluttering and thighs trembling on either side of his head.
as he sucks on your clit your hips instinctively jerk up to grind harder against his face. you squirm as his tongue drags in and out of your pussy repeatedly, your moans turning almost pornographic.
your vision feels blurry and your thigh muscles burn as his tongue fucks you closer and closer to release.
you try to nudge him, letting him know that you’re close. the lewd sounds of your moans, the sloppy sound of his tongue driving itself in and out of you, flicking over your clit, as well as the creaking of the bed, it’s all too much for you. you can’t keep this up. you fail to notice how your warning comes out as a garbled slur of incomprehensible words.
your entire body spasms when you cum, thrashing in his hold, your free hand flying up to grab the pillow behind your head as you cry out.
“ahh!! Shoto~!”
as you come down from your high you realize that he must have cum too, as you can feel the way his hips still against the bed, and you distantly hear the moans muffled against your pussy
‘god, he’s shameless,’ you think again as you lay limp against the bed, reeling from your intense orgasm, completely forgetting about how you had sounded the same, if not worse, mere seconds ago.
"are you good?" he asked softly, his forehead resting against yours as he caught his breath.
"more than okay…" you replied, your voice still breathless, and as you lay tangled together, your breaths evening out and your bodies still pressed close, you knew that this was only the beginning of something far deeper - a connection that neither of you would ever let go of.
Merry Christmas to those who celebrate and happy holidays everyone! This is just a fun idea I had rolling around in my head these past few days! I didn’t want to do all the squads, and the timeline is purposely fuzzy (who cares about character deaths? Not me!!!). So this is just a mishmash of characters I pictured having fun with this.
TW: MDNI! Technically it’s abuse of power with any of the captains, but it’s all consensual, (reader is either a lieutenant, low-ranking, or human), oral sex, dirty talk, inappropriate use of decorations, food play.
You had just come back from the World of the Living, humming a tune, that you learned was a Christmas carol, through the barracks. You learned so much about humans during this time. Festivals with lights, decorated trees, gift giving and food sharing… everyone seemed so happy! Maybe it would be worth spreading that cheer into your squad.
Your arms were carrying boxes of stringed lights. While there weren’t any pine trees, maybe Captain Ichimaru would let you decorate some of the persimmon trees?
“Whatcha got there?” Speak of the devil and he shall appear, you thought.
“I was about to go to your office, Captain!” You said, as you bowed to him. Captain Ichimaru chuckled as he looked over the boxes in your arms. “I wanted your permission if I could decorate some persimmon trees with these lights.”
“It’s that time of the year already? Let me help you.” Captain Ichimaru clicked his tongue as took some of the boxes out of your arms, walking towards his favourite patch of trees.
“You know about Christmas, Captain Ichimaru?” You asked, as the two of you reached the trees.
The captain gave you wide grin, “I know some things, like how people receive gifts if they’ve been naughty or nice.”
You smirked at him, “oh is that so? Where do I fall on your list, Captain?”
Captain Ichimaru didn’t say anything, instead he unfurled the string of lights, giving it a quick inspection. Then, without warning, he flexed his spiritual pressure, forcing you on to your knees, quickly using the string lights to tie your arms behind your back, wrapping the around your breasts. He flicked his fingers, and to your surprise, the string lights were on, illuminating your covered breasts.
“You”, the captain drawled, cupping your chin, forcing you to look up to him, “have and will always be naughty.” He smirked. With his free hand, he pulled his cock out through his uniform, placing the soft shaft on your lips.
“But maybe you can show me how nice you are,” he cooed, patting your head as you begin to bob your head up and down his growing erection.
SQUAD 4 - Unohana Retsu
The scent of freshly baked goods wafted through the kitchens of the Squad 4 barracks. You and Hanatarou had visited the World of the Living to learn how to bake sugar cookies and the like from the spirit of a pastry chef, and now you wanted to bake some more.
Specifically… you wanted to give some to your captain. While you weren’t sure what to get her as a gift, you knew she enjoyed (moderately) tasting sweets. You had made an assortment of baked treats for her, some with matcha, azuki, black sesame, and dark chocolate, wondering what her favourite would be.
You gently placed all the treats into a decorative box and made your way to her office. Before you could knock on her door, you heard her call your name, “please come in.”
As you entered her office, you were startled to see Captain Unohana outside of her uniform. Her long black hair was put into a bun, and she wore a form-fitting grey dress with fur trimming.
“Captain, if I may,” you bowed, a blush creeping on your cheeks, “you look beautiful.”
Captain Unohana smiled at you, “thank you. The World of the Living has some interesting clothing for this time of the year.” She fanned her hand over her clothes, “and this one in particular called to me.”
“It looks like it was made for you.” You explained, a blush creeping on your cheeks as you noticed her ample cleavage.
The captain gave you a knowing smile, “you’re quite kind. How may I be of help to you, my dear?” She asked, her gaze pointing towards the box in your hand.
“Oh!” You were so shocked by her appearance, you completely forgot why you were here to begin with. “In the spirit of the holidays… I made these treats for you.”
“Then let us have some tea and enjoy these together.” Captain Unohana calmly said, as she prepared her favourite brew.
The two of you sat down, enjoying the warm tea and the snacks you gifted her. One treat in particular caught your captain’s attention. You were heavy handed with the whipped cream topping, to which she gently scooped up with her finger.
“This is delicious.” She remarked, “did you even make the cream yourself?”
“Yes!” You excitedly answered, “A pastry chef taught Hanatarou and I how to make different baked goods. I wanted to share with you what we learned.” You beamed at her, proud of your work.
Unfortunately for you, your heavy-handed decorating had consequences, as whipped cream dropped on to your captain’s cleavage. You immediately went to her side to apologize, your hand ready with a napkin, until she caught your hand.
She gave you a gentle smile, “don’t worry about this.” Your eyes widened in shock as she pulled the top of her dress down, her bare chest open to you. Captain Unohana smeared the cream on to her nipples, as you watched in awe.
“Would you like a taste?” Captain Unohana smiled, as she pulled you to her breasts. Your face grew hot as your tongue darted across her cream-covered nipple, before sucking it harshly.
“Very good.” Your captain praised, patting your head. “There’s some more here…” as she spread more cream on her other breast. And then with a simple kido spell, pulled her clothes off her body, as she continued to place cream and crumbled desserts down her body. You feasted on her until you reached her wet pussy, her fingers holding the folds apart for you. “And this is my Christmas present for you, for being such a good girl.” Captain Unohana murmured, as she forced your head between her legs.
MUKEN - Aizen Sousuke
Aizen glared at Head Captain Kyoraku, who was flirting with some random mother waiting in line with her child.
As part of his sentence, the Head Captain thought it would be a “wonderful idea” for Aizen to do some community service.
In the World of the Living.
As a Mall Santa Claus.
Shutara Senjumaru, Mayuri Kurotsuchi and Kisuke Urahara joined forces, for some reason, to make him clothing that would temporarily suppress his spiritual pressure. He could mingle with humans. He only had to do this for 6 hours.
He begrudgingly accepted, much to the shock of everyone. While he could think of a plan to escape. It was more so he was curious to know what the World of the Living was like since his imprisonment. And also Ichigo Kurosaki would “help” as an elf. And he was.
Aizen didn’t mind Ichigo, and much to Ichigo’s surprise, he got along with Aizen. But he couldn’t talk with Aizen for long, as parents and children kept lining up, to tell Santa Aizen want they wanted for Christmas.
You on the other hand, were doing some last-minute shopping with a few friends. You stood in your tracks as you looked at the Santa Claus display, “hey guys… Santa looks pretty cute, don’t you think?” You asked.
Your friends laughed, “if you think so, why don’t you wait to sit in his lap?” They teased. Not one to backdown from a challenge, you stubbornly accepted.
“Fine! Take my stuff. I’ll catch up with you guys later.” Your friends hollered as you stood in line, parents and caregivers giving you side eyes and dirty looks as you waited along with them. You were also getting peculiar looks from an elf with orange hair, but no matter! You were here on a mission.
“Hi miss, you know this is for children, right?” The elf asked.
“Oh I know,” you said, thinking of what to say to stay in line, but you couldn’t lie to save your life. “I was dared to meet with this Santa, and I have some money on the line.” The elf gave you a confused look, then laughed.
“I’ve been there!” He exclaimed, “don’t worry about it. I’ll let you pass.” He gave you an easy smile, as he gave a thumbs up to the other elves and Santa Claus.
You swore Santa rolled his deep brown eyes, but no matter. You were now up!
“You can sit on my lap.” Santa Aizen calmly said, almost bored, not looking at you.
You hesitantly sat on his lap as two elves held cameras ready to take your photo.
“And what would you like for Christmas?” Santa Aizen asked in a monotonous voice.
“Hmm..” you exaggerated your actions, cupping your chin and slightly leaning into him, “I would like Santa to fuck me when he’s free.” You smiled cheerfully.
This didn’t surprise Santa Aizen, as he chuckled. He lowered his voice so only you could hear, “give me 15 minutes.”
And 15 minutes passed, where Santa Aizen took you to a closed off office space in the mall. Doors locked, as his cock was buried in your weeping pussy, your moans and the obscene sounds filling the empty space. His cock stretched you full, as he continuously slammed his hips into you. But before you reached your orgasm, Santa Aizen pulled out of you, and without warning, came all over your face, using it as a cleaning rag.
Tucking himself in, Santa Aizen smiled at his handiwork, as you tried to wipe his cooling cum off your face. “I hope you enjoyed your present.”
But before you could protest, Santa Aizen left the room, leaving you to clean up after yourself. “This Santa deserves some coal or something.” You grumbled, as you walked back to your friends, a slight limp in your step as your pussy ached.
ESPADA - Grimmjow Jaegerjacquez
“Why do I gotta wear this stupid fucking thing?” Grimmjow grumbled as he pulled the red Santa Claus hat off his head.
You rolled your eyes as you looked at Grimmjow through your mirror. You were busy applying the last bits of your makeup for tonight, and of course Grimmjow was acting like a child.
“Because Grimmjow, it’s a Christmas party. We should at least look festive.”
Grimmjow scoffed, “I fucking hate red.”
“And you also hate wearing ugly sweaters! With your attitude, don’t be surprised if Santa gives you coal as a present.”
“Santa isn’t real.” Grimmjow sneered.
You faked a shocked gasp, hand over your heart as if he said something hurtful. “How can you tell me, Mrs. Claus, that my husband isn’t real?!” You faked cried.
Grimmjow rolled his eyes as he watched your theatrics unfold.
“Since my husband isn’t real, I guess I have to do this by myself tonight.” You sobbed, rubbing you crocodile tears away as you got on to your bed. Grimmjow raised an eyebrow at what you were doing.
“I am real. I’m right here!” Grimmjow yelled, but you were ignoring him, as you spread open your legs, revealing your bare pussy under your red Santa-themed skirt.
“Oh where’s Santa Claus…” you whined, as you began to play with yourself, rubbing your clit, purposefully avoiding Grimmjow. “I have a present for him, but I heard he wasn’t real…”
Grimmjow huffed, “I’ll show you who’s real,” climbing on to bed spreading your legs wider. Without hesitation, he lapped at your clit and pushed a finger inside you, as you sighed happily, pushing his head further into your wet pussy.
Once Grimmjow lifted his head from your pussy, you smirked at him, seeing his glazed eyes and face covered in your juices. “You know…” you cooed to Grimmjow, “only Mrs. Claus can give Santa a present.” You teased, as he watched you push two of your own fingers inside you.
Grimmjow smirked, “well then, I hope I’m on her ‘nice’ list.”
