Behind the Blossom
Rangiku Matsumoto x Blackfem!reader
While shopping at a cute boutique, you run into your friend Rangiku Matsumoto—the chaotic and beautiful Lieutenant of the Soul Society's 10th Division. She stops to chat for a moment before being whisked away by her duties. But the separation doesn't last long. Late that night, she shows up at your door claiming she wants a sleepover. As it turns out, "sleeping" is the last thing on her mind, and the two of you stay up for hours exploring a whole new side of your relationship with a variety of toys.
·⭑·6,386 words, build up, light banter, smut/explicit sexual content(18+), making out, cunnilingus, groping, praise, a hint of degradation, dirty talk, use of toys (rabbit vibrator, rose toy, and dildo), service dom reader, overstimulation, petnames/name-calling(e.g., baby, sweetie, honey, doll, good girl), etc ·⭑·
Will edit later; ignore the mistakes!
For the Gala Of Pride (A Pride Month Collaboration Between @h3avenlyglory & @mtcloudsworld)
·⭑·18+ 𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝑫𝒐 𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝑰𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕·⭑·
The brass chimes above the door of Ore's Oasis let out a soft, melodic chime every time a customer walked in, but your attention was consumed by the rack of imported linen in front of you. The mid-day sun was scorching outside, baking the city streets in a hazy, blistering heat, but inside the boutique, the air conditioning hummed a cool, crisp tune.
You held a small, woven shopping basket in your left hand, already containing a pair of one pieces and a gold anklet. You were trying to exercise some financial restraint, but everything in this shop was too cute.
Suddenly, the hair on the back of your arms stood up.
A ripple altered the atmospheric pressure in the room. To an ordinary human, it would have felt like a passing dizzy spell or a drop in indoor temperature. But to you—carrying a reservoir of spiritual pressure that had spiked drastically over the last few years—it was a beacon. You tensed for a fraction of a second, your fingers freezing on a hanger, before the specific flavor of the energy registered. It was warm, dizzying, incredibly vast, and carried the subtle, unmistakable undertone of premium sake.
You relaxed, a helpless smile tugging at your lips. You knew exactly who that belonged to.
You had met Rangiku Matsumoto a few months back under eventful circumstances. You’d been over at Orihime Inoue’s apartment attempting to teach her how to cook a standard, edible meal without her adding red bean paste, whipped cream, or mustard to a traditional hotpot. Midway through chopping scallions, Rangiku had materialized through the kitchen window, completely unannounced, clad in her black Soul Reaper robes and looking for a place to crash. The two of you had hit it off instantly over shared frustrations regarding stubborn men, a mutual love for retail therapy, and affection your friends.
Shaking off the memory, you pulled a piece from the rack. It was a gorgeous, lightweight top featuring a vibrant, swirling pattern of pastel yellow, blush pink, and cream white. It was airy for the hot weather. You checked the tag—your size. Perfect. But the matching shorts were scattered, forcing you to begin flipping through the hangers to find your fit.
Ding.
The door chimes rattled again, much louder this time. At the exact same moment, a prickle of discomfort hit your neck. You could feel someone staring at you. Hard.
You spun around on your heel, a "what the hell are you looking at" glare already locked onto your features. You were well-trained in the art of handling creeps. A man a few feet away, holding a shopping bag for his girlfriend, was staring wide-eyed, his mouth practically hanging open. But as you tracked the trajectory of his glazed eyes, you realized something humiliating—he wasn’t looking at you at all. He was staring directly past your shoulder, completely mesmerized.
You turned your head.
Framed in the doorway of the chic boutique was a sight that defied human physics. Rangiku Matsumoto was standing there, practically buried beneath a mountain of glossy, neon-colored shopping bags. There had to be at least fifteen of them dangling from her slender arms, overflowing with tissue paper, silk ribbons, and high-end logos from the luxury district down the avenue.
Right beside her—or rather, completely obscured behind the towering wall of paper bags—was a very short, irritated spiritual presence. You couldn't see him through the luggage, but the sheer, icy-cold pressure radiating from the lower hemisphere of the pile told you everything you needed to know. It was Captain Hitsugaya.
"Oh my gosh!"
Rangiku’s eyes locked onto you through the racks of clothing. Before her captain could even utter a word of protest, she spun around and ruthlessly thrust the entire fifteen-bag payload directly into Toshiro’s small arms, burying him alive.
"Hold these, Captain! I found her!" she squealed, her voice a high, joyful sound that shattered the quiet elegance of the boutique.
She sprinted across the polished boutique floor, her strappy wedge sandals clicking loud against the tile. Before you could even brace yourself, she threw her arms around your neck. Your entire world was blacked out, replaced by the cloud-like, and suffocating warmth of her breasts pressing directly into your face.
You were entirely smothered in her cleavage, inhaling the expensive scent of her human-world perfume—sweet jasmine and amber—mixed with the comforting caress of her spirit.
You smiled against the soft fabric of her top, your voice muffled into her chest. "Hi, Rangiku."
"I knew it was you. I could feel your spirit energy from three blocks away!" she cried, finally pulling back just a fraction, though she refused to let you go. Her manicured hands remained planted on your shoulders, her thumbs sliding down to stroke the bare skin near your collarbone with a languid touch.
Up close, Rangiku Matsumoto was a staggering testament to physical beauty. In her human gigai, she had abandoned her standard Soul Reaper uniform for something more fashionable. She was wearing a low-cut coral sundress that clung to the curves of her hourglass figure like a second skin. The neckline plunged, barely managing to corral the abundance of her breasts, exposing a vast expanse of smooth, golden skin that glowed with a healthy, sun-kissed radiance.
Her face was so perfect to you. She possessed sharp, elegant cheekbones and a rounded jawline that gave her an expression of mischievous youth. Her eyes were a piercing sky-blue—heavy-lidded, framed by thick, dark lashes. Her lips were full, painted in a glossy, berry-pink shade that perfectly matched her dress, curling up into a wide, smile that bared her white teeth.
But her crowning glory was her hair. A cascading waterfall of thick, voluminous strawberry-blonde waves tumbled past her shoulders, spilling over her back and framing her face in a wild, beautifully unkempt mane that seemed to catch every single ray of light filtering through the boutique window. A few stray, golden-orange strands clung to the damp skin of her neck, a proof to the heat outside.
You ignored the envious stares of the other shoppers in the store, as well as the muffled, furious grunts of Captain Hitsugaya, who was attempting to balance a designer shoe box on top of his head while trapped beneath her bags.
"What are you doing in this part of town?" you asked, leaning back slightly against the clothing rack, though Rangiku’s arms just slid down to wrap tightly around your waist, pulling your hips closer to hers in a casual display of intimacy.
"Oh, it's wonderful!" Rangiku beamed, her blue eyes crinkling at the corners as she leaned in close, her breath warm against your cheek. She played idly with the strap of your shopping basket, her long, painted nails brushing against your fingers.
"The Head Captain gave us special permission to stay in the World of the Living for an extra two days to monitor some anomalous hollow fluctuations in the sector. But the Captain finished all his boring data-gathering and paperwork early this morning! So, since we had the afternoon free, I told him he had to accompany his lovely lieutenant out for some much-needed summer shopping. And then I sensed you, and I just knew it was destiny."
She squeezed your waist, her ample chest brushing against your arm as she looked down at the top you were holding. "Oh, that is so cute on you. Let me help you find bottoms. We are going to turn you into a total knockout today. Oh, get that too!"
"I’m just getting a few things," you said, offering a small chuckle as you lifted your woven basket. "I'm really trying to watch my spending today."
Rangiku’s sculpted eyebrows knitted together into a frown. She let out a soft, sympathetic sigh, her lower lip pouting out just enough to make her look disappointed. "A budget? I understand, sweetie," she said, leaning in closer until the warmth of her shoulder brushed yours. "I am so glad I live in the Soul Society. Whenever my personal funds run dry, I just find a way to route my little excursions through the squad's administrative expenses. If the Captain doesn't notice the line items, it didn't happen."
You couldn't help but smile, your eyes drifting past her shoulder to focus on the annoyed, burdened man standing by the entrance.
"Hi, Captain Hitsugaya," you called out, raising a hand in greeting.
Toshiro’s small, white-haired head peered out from behind a massive neon-pink luxury shopping bag. His emerald eyes were narrowed into a flat, exhausted glare, but his manners held firm. "Hello," he rumbled back, his voice carrying the exhaustion of a man who had been walking in circles for hours. "Don't let her pull you into her financial delinquency."
Rangiku ignored him, her bright blue eyes lighting up as she reached out, her fingers gently touching the edge of your shoulder. "Your hair! It’s super different from the last time I saw you."
You smiled, touching one of the neat, long braids resting against your collarbone. "Yeah, I have a lot of plans this summer and I really didn’t want to deal with my natural hair out in this humidity. So, I just went ahead and got braids."
"That's is so pretty!" Rangiku beamed, her hand sliding down your arm in a warm gesture of approval. "The length looks amazing on you. It really frames your face."
With a quick pat to your hip, her short attention span caught on something across the store. "Ouu, look at that black top over there. I'll be right back!" She drifted away, leaving you to finish your task. You located the matching shorts in your size and headed straight for the glass-topped checkout counter.
While the cashier was ringing up your items, Toshiro walked up to the counter, his soul pager abruptly buzzing with a sharp, electronic chirp in his pocket. He looked down at the screen, his posture stiffening.
"Matsumoto," Toshiro said, his voice dropping into his strict, commanding register. "Change of plans. We just received new orders from the Soul Society. We need to report to the local coordinate checkpoint immediately."
A loud groan echoed from the clothing racks. Rangiku trudged over, the long black top dangling limply from her hand. "Are you serious, Captain? We just got here! Can't the anomalous fluctuations wait for like... twenty more minutes?"
"No," Toshiro snapped cleanly, adjusting the strap of a heavy designer bag on his shoulder. "We'll come back later. Let's go."
You couldn't help the amused grin that broke across your face. Even though Hitsugaya was technically centuries older than most humans and held one of the most powerful, respected positions in the military hierarchy of the afterlife, the dynamic between them never changed. To anyone else, he looked like a small kid, but standing next to Rangiku, she was unmistakably the chaotic child he was forced to babysit.
As you grabbed your small brown shopping bag from the cashier, you walked over toward Toshiro, extending a hand to relieve him of at least four of the larger bags hanging from his small wrists. "Here, let me help you with some of these."
Toshiro looked up, a faint, genuine flash of relief washing over his stern features. "Thank you," he murmured, exhaling a quiet breath as his shoulders dropped.
"Yeah. Thanks, doll. He could barely hold a few bags. Some captain he is." Rangiku chimed in, sweeping back into the huddle. She snatched the remaining payload from her captain, flashing you one last, smile as she walked toward the automatic glass doors. "Byeee. See you soon!"
-
The digital numbers on the clock glowed a dim green. 9:47pm. You were freshly showered, your skin smelling of your favorite body wash, and you were sitting comfortably in the middle of your bed in your modest apartment. The only real illumination provided by the shifting, colorful glow of the television screen playing a comforting slice-of-life anime. You sat with your legs crossed, picking at a bowl of fresh fruit with a fork. You had been craving dense, fudgy brownies all evening, but a thorough search of your pantry earlier had revealed you were out of box mix, leaving you to settle for the healthier alternative.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
A series of firm thuds rattled against your front door, breaking the stillness of the apartment.
You paused, a piece of melon hovering halfway to your mouth, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion. It was late. Your mind jumped through the alarming possibilities before settling on the most likely culprit. Rangiku. She probably needed a place to crash again to escape Toshiro's strict curfew or simply wanted a change of scenery from the Kurosaki residence.
You set the fruit bowl down on the nightstand, slid off the edge of the mattress, and navigated through the familiar, dark hallways of your apartment.
When you pulled the front door open, the bright, amber glow of the streetlights outside flooded the entryway, framing Rangiku against the night sky. She was leaning against the doorframe, a playful, slightly sheepish grin on her lips.
"Hi," she purred softly.
"Hi, Rangiku," you answered, leaning your shoulder against the door. "What are you doing here this late?"
"I wanted to have a sleepover," she said, her blue eyes instantly dropping down to scan your frame.
The television light from the bedroom cast a faint, angled glow down the hallway, catching the smooth, rich tone of your bare skin. You were wearing a matching pajama set—a lightweight, button-up top and a pair of matching shorts that rode up just enough to expose the full wealth of your thighs. Rangiku’s gaze lingered there for a beat too long, her eyes tracing the soft curve of your legs before traveling back up to meet your eyes.
"Look at you," she murmured, a genuine warmth in her voice. "You look so cute and cozy. Are you gonna let me in?"
"Of course, come on in," you said, stepping back to let her pass. As she walked past you into the cool air conditioning of the condo, you closed the door and slid the deadbolt into place. "Does Captain Hitsugaya need a place to stay tonight too? I can set up the couch."
"Oh, don't worry about him," Rangiku chuckled, waving a dismissive, hand over her shoulder as she walked down the hallway toward your bedroom. "He’s staying over at the Kurosakis' place, doing some boring tactical review with Ichigo. I told him I was leaving... and honestly? I wanted you all to myself."
She stepped into your bedroom, carrying a plastic convenience store bag that rattled with the distinct sound of chips and candy, alongside a much larger, heavy designer tote bag whose contents were obscured in the dim light. She set her things down on the corner of your dresser, her blue eyes taking in the atmosphere of the space. The room was dark, completely tranquil, with the animated characters on the TV screen casting soft blue and purple hues across your sheets.
"Were you about to go to sleep?" she asked, turning her head to look at you over her shoulder, her strawberry-blonde waves shifting over her back.
"Not for a few hours," you replied, walking past her toward your closet. "Let me get you something comfortable to wear."
You opened the closet door, rummaging through your shelves until you pulled out an oversized, soft cotton T-shirt and a pair of loose, stretchy athletic shorts. You walked back over and handed the bundle to her.
"Here, these should fit you well enough to sleep in."
"Thank you," Rangiku murmured, her voice dropping into a lower, softer register that felt intimate in the quiet room.
Without a hint of hesitation or modesty, her hand reached around to the back of her neck, unhooking the hidden clasp of her coral sundress.
You averted your eyes as the fabric slid down her hips, focusing your gaze on the television screen while she changed into the oversized shirt and shorts. The mattress dipped a second later as Rangiku slid under the cool sheets beside you, bringing that immense, comforting wall of warmth with her.
"What are we watching?" she asked, curling her long legs up beneath the blankets. You told her the name of the slice-of-life anime, your voice a little breathy in the quiet room. Leaning back against your pillows, you looked over at her.
"Did you and Captain Hitsugaya actually finish the mission?"
Rangiku let out a dramatic sigh and stretched her arms high above her head, the movement pulling the soft cotton of the shirt tight across her chest. "Yes. Paperwork is done, the spiritual coordinates are logged, and I am officially off the clock," she groaned happily, melting sideways until her shoulder and torso leaned against your side.
She had always been a physical, touchy person, but she possessed such a genuine heart that her constant closeness never made you feel uncomfortable. It made you think of the legendary sleepover the two of you had shared with Orihime a few months back—a night filled with absolute chaos, terrible kitchen experiments, and crying from laughing so hard. The memory kept the atmosphere in the room light, but as you looked down at her, an electric wave of tension rippled through the air. Rangiku had stopped looking at the TV. She was gazing up at you through her thick, dark lashes, her striking blue eyes reflecting the colorful, shifting light of the screen in a way that made your pulse hitch.
-
The lamp on your nightstand was clicked on now, bathing the bedroom in a golden glow that caught the empty snack wrappers piled neatly inside the plastic bag on your dresser. You sat there speechless, your jaw practically unhinged as you stared at what Rangiku was currently holding in her lap. Fished directly from the bottom of her designer tote bag were three very distinct, high-end human pleasure objects: a suction Rose toy, a thick silicone dildo, and a sleek, multi-speed rabbit vibrator.
A spike of embarrassment and sheer shock hit you, a rush of heat flooding your veins, and warming your cheeks. Rangiku, utterly unbothered, was beaming like a kid on Christmas morning.
"Don't look at me like that!" she laughed, her voice a musical, wicked purr as she shook the silicone toy at you. "Remember when we were gossiping at Orihime’s, and you said Ichigo was so oblivious that he wouldn't be laying a finger on her anytime soon, so she should just buy a toy? I looked into it! I am fully aware of all these modern human things now, but..." She shifted closer, her thigh pressing flush against yours as she set the items down on the blanket. Her expression became intensely enthusiastic, her blue eyes glittering. "I really want to try them out with you."
You hesitated, your fingers twisting into the fabric of your shorts, your throat feeling dry. "Umm... so... Rangiku, I don't know..."
Her lower lip instantly popped out into a pout. "Why not? You're my favorite human and you like me too, so it'll be better with you." Then, the playfulness vanished. Her voice dropped into a quieter, serious register that sent a shiver straight down your spine. Her eyes locked onto yours, refusing to break contact for even a fraction of a second. "Besides... I really liked making out with you that one time. And I think doing a lot more of it tonight would be nice. Can we?"
You took a slow, deep breath, taking in the surrealism of the moment. You had gone from eating fruit, snacking, and gossiping about soul society politics to sitting inches away from a beautiful lieutenant offering a pile of erotica. The tension in the room was hot. "Okay," you finally murmured, an assured spark taking over your senses as you leaned slightly over her. "But you're not using them on me. If we're doing this, I'm going to use every one of them on you."
A pleased, triumphant look washed over Rangiku's face, her lips curling into a wicked little grin. "Yes, please," she whispered.
You didn't waste another second. You leaned in and caught her mouth in a slow, deep kiss that fractured into a heavy rush of tongue. Rangiku let out a soft gasp against your lips, her mouth parting to welcome you as you pulled her body flush against yours. One of your hands slid directly under the hem of her oversized shirt, your palm gripping the curve of her hip, while your other hand came up to cradle the side of her jaw, your fingers tangling into the thick waves of her hair. She felt so soft and smooth all over.
The kiss soon degenerated into something sloppy, wet, and fervent. Rangiku pushed herself closer into your space, her tongue sliding deeper into your mouth with an eager, needy hunger that proved she had been thinking about this for a long time. Your hand left her hip, traveling slowly up the warm expanse of her ribs beneath the cotton shirt until your fingers cupped the weight of her bare breast. The supple flesh spilled over your fingers, and a loud, breathless moan tore from the back of Rangiku's throat, her body shuddering against yours. You made out for several minutes, the quiet comedy on the television drowned out by the sound of your tangled breathing and wet, gasping sighs, before you gripped her shoulders and pushed her flat back onto the mattress.
You lean down, pressing your lips back against hers, drinking in the quiet gasp that escapes her mouth. Rangiku’s hands come up to roam over your body, her warm palms tracing the curve of your waist before her fingers dig into the fabric of your pajama top for leverage. You break the kiss, dragging your lips down the smooth line of her jaw to press wet, bites onto the sensitive skin of her neck, right where her pulse jumps. A low hum vibrates deep in her throat as you work your way lower, shifting your weight between her thighs until your hand slides down her torso to find the waistband of the shorts you lent her.
Your thumb presses firm through the grey cotton, finding the exact spot where her arousal is already gathering into a hard, swollen nub. Rangiku’s hips jerk up against your hand, a sharp, involuntary twitch that betrays how ready she is.
You hold her down with the weight of your palm, a small smile brushing against her collarbone as you feel her breath hitch.
"Did you actually finish your work today, Matsumoto, or did you leave the captain stranded and run over here because you wanted to play with toys and sleep with me?"
Her chest rises high as she tries to find her voice in the quiet room. You trace a lazy, grinding circle with your thumb over the fabric, pressing directly into her heat.
"I actually helped this time," she pants, her blue eyes dark with as her fingers grip your shoulders. "I swear I did."
You let out a quiet, knowing hum, letting the disbelief hang in the air as you offer her an elusive smile. With a smooth drag of your hands, you hook your fingers into the elastic waistband of her shorts and pull them down her long legs, tossing them over the edge of the bed to leave her bare. Your eyes rake over her form in the glow of the lamp. Her trimmed pubic hair is a soft patch of strawberry blonde, a flawless match to the thick waves spread out across your pillows. The heat between her thighs is already glistening with a heavy sheen of slick moisture. You use your fingers to gently part her labia, exposing the wet pink flesh.
"Look at that," you murmur, staring at the sight as the fluid pools between her folds. "You're so pretty, Rangiku. Look how wet you are just from a little kissing."
She shifts on the sheets, her inner thighs clamping against your ribs as she tries to hide from your intense gaze. "Stop staring and stop teasing," she whines, her voice thick, eager, and entirely willing.
"Sorry," you whisper, though the amusement stays in your voice and you make no effort to hurry.
Instead of going down right away, you dip your index finger into the pool of her slickness, coating the digit before rubbing it slowly up and down her pussy, spreading her own moisture over her clit until she is slick from top to bottom. You watch her face twist, her lips parting as you toy with her. Only when she begins to roll her hips in a silent beg do you lean down, pressing a firm, lingering kiss to the soft flesh of her inner thigh. You slide your arm beneath her knee, lifting her leg high and locking your fingers into the meat of her thigh to hold her open.
You bring your tongue down to her center, licking upward in one long, deliberate stroke. Her folds spreads wide over your tongue. She tastes nice—a clean, salty tang mixed with the calm, cool essence. You open your mouth wide, gathering her sensitive clit between your lips, and suck.
A loud, ragged moan breaks from her, her back arching clear off the mattress. The sheer sensitivity of her body catches you off guard; for a woman with such a formidable military presence, her flesh responds to the slightest touch. Her long fingers reach down, threading into your long braids, her palm pressing against the back of your head to hold you close to her. You look up through your lashes, taking in the view of her face—her lips parted and swollen, her hair wild across your pillows. She looks breathtaking. You keep eating her out, taking your time with slow, heavy laps simply for your own enjoyment, listening to her shaky breaths echo in the dark space.
Rangiku’s voice gets louder, turning into a string of cries as her hips lift off the sheet, grinding her wet center straight against your mouth in a desperate search for more pressure.
You pull back just out of reach, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. "Which toy do you want first?"
She looks up at you with eyes bright and brimming with adoration, her gaze locked onto yours. "The rabbit," she gasps out.
"Open it," you command softly.
You keep your hand resting on her thigh, your thumb maintaining a steady, firm rub over her wet clit to keep her on the edge while her fumbling fingers strip the plastic packaging away. A dark rose flush steals across her pale cheeks, her gaze fixed on yours the entire time. Once the toy is free, you take it from her grip, clicking the power button until the motor wakes with a low, soft hum—the lowest setting. You bring the vibrating tip down, pressing it right onto her wet clit.
Her spine arches, her entire frame jolting against the mattress. A surprised laugh leaves your chest as her features twist with the sudden shock of the pleasure, her eyes rolling back. Down between her thighs, her tight opening is overflowing, leaking a steady stream of slick fluid that glistens against her skin as the rabbit works. Smiling, you slide two fingers deep into her slick heat, curling them upward to hook against her g-spot.
Rangiku shrieked against the pillows, her hips jerking wild as her internal muscles locked around your fingers like a vice.
"You're so tight, Rangiku," you murmur, leaning down so your breath hits her ear. "Relax for me. Don't cum yet. We’re going to take our time."
"Please," she whimpers, her hands dragging up to grip your forearms. "It's too much with the buzzing, just let me do it to you."
"No," you tell her, not letting her back out just to turn around and toy with you. "You said you wanted to try it, right?"
You hold her hips still with one hand, your fingers inside her slowing down into a torturous, deep 'come here' motion, stretching her walls while the vibrator keeps up its steady rumble against her clit. You talk her through every single sensation, keeping her balanced right on the brink of ruin. "You're so loud, Rangiku. Wet too. Feel how my fingers are stretching you out. Look down at my hand. Look at how easy it is. You can take it."
She lets out a broken whine, her head tossing from side to side as she forces herself to look down at where your hands join her flesh. Her pink folds are swollen, gripping your fingers tight. "I see it... god, it feels so good. Your fingers are s-so deep—ahhn-ghnm. The vibrator's—O-oh... let me cum, please, I can't hold it."
"You can hold it," you whisper back, your thumb pressing the vibrator a little harder against her while your fingers execute a sharp, cruel flick inside her. "You're doing so good, baby. Just a few more seconds. You can do that for me, yeah"?
"Yesss," She draws, making needy little noises in the back of her throat as she tries to follow your instructions, her internal walls pulsing and clamping around your hand in an effort to control the mounting pressure. You keep her there for several minutes, manual exploration combining with the steady buzz until her skin is hot to the touch and her breathing is a ragged mess of half-formed words.
Only when you feel her entire body go rigid with tension do you decide she's had enough. You reach down and click the button, kicking the vibrations up a notch, matching the rapid pulse with a fast, ruthless plunge of your fingers.
"Good girl. Now cum for me, Rangiku," you coax her, your voice a proud murmur against her skin.
With one violent heave of her hips, she breaks. Her internal walls clamp down around your fingers in a hard, crushing orgasm, her fluid soaking your hand as a loud, frantic string of cries tears from her throat. You don't stop moving. You keep your fingers pumping deep inside the tight squeeze of her climax, the rabbit maintaining its steady buzz against her clit while she rides out the aftershocks. Only when the pulsing slowly subsides do you slide your hand free, lifting your glistening fingers to your mouth to suck them clean right before her unraveled eyes.
Rangiku's thighs tremble, small tremors writhing through her legs. "Oh god," she breathes, her hand flying down to weakly grip your wrist to pull the toy away.
Instead of letting her find relief, you reach down and click the switch, ramping the vibrator up to its highest, most aggressive speed against her raw nerves. The harsh, loud buzz fills the quiet bedroom. Her grip on your wrist tightens into a panicked squeeze as the heavy vibration hits her overstimulated flesh.
"Do you want me to stop, Rangiku?"
She can't form a real response. She lets out a fractured whine, her body squirming in a vain effort to escape the intense, stimulation of the machine, yet her hips still tilt instinctively toward the touch. You cup her jaw in your hand, tilting her head up to press a firm kiss to her wet lips. She instantly tries to deepen the touch, her tongue searching for yours in a gamble for comfort, but you pull back just out of reach, a smile breaking on your face at the deep, pouty look that forms on her full lips.
"You need to talk to me," you murmur against her skin. "Tell me what you want."
Her blue eyes are dark, glassy, and completely unraveled by the pleasure. "Slower..." she gasps out, her voice a faint whisper as she pleads with you. "Please, drop it down."
You click the button, dropping the device back down to its lowest, gentlest hum. You lean down and lick her up with soothing, wet drags to cool the raw heat of her skin, before turning the power off and tossing the toy onto the sheets.
-
Rangiku rests her full weight in your lap, her bare back pressed flush against your chest as her frame trembles from the heat of the bedroom. The air is thick, holding the heavy scent of her jasmine perfume and the musk of her arousal. She keeps her legs draped over yours, her thighs spread wide to expose her slick center. With one hand, she clamps the Rose toy flat against her swollen clit, the soft silicone mouth pulsing with tight waves of air pressure. Your hand is wrapped firm around the base of the dildo, sliding the thick shaft deep into her wet channel in a slow, unwavering rhythm.
Both of your eyes are fixed on the view between her legs. You watch her drenched pussy stretch open, greedily swallowing the silicone before letting it slide out, only for you to plunge it right back in. Her cream is thick and off-white, bubbling around the base of the toy from the friction.
Your free hand slides up her ribcage, your fingers spreading wide over the wealth of her breast before you trap her hard nipple between your fingers, giving it a firm tug. Rangiku lets out a high whine, her head rolling back against your shoulder. Her appetite hasn't slowed down, even after three shattering orgasms.
"Look at how open you are for me," you murmur against her ear, your voice low and rough. "You're dripping all over my thighs, just taking every inch. Tell me how it feels inside you."
Rangiku shifts her weight, her hips attempting to grind back against your pelvis in a brief show of defiance. She tries to force a faster pace, eager to hunt her own release against your rhythm. "Feels r-really good," she pants, her voice a gravelly, ragged mess. "You're doing this on purpose. Pushing it in so deep and slow… until I can't even breathe. Go faster."
You tighten your grip on her hip, pinning her pelvis flat to prevent her from taking control of the stride. "Shh. No dictating the pace, Matsumoto," you murmur, your voice calm but absolute. "You're too demanding."
She lets out a frustrated huff but keeps her eyes glued to the slick junction of your bodies, watching the dildo slide home. You guide her through the overwhelming sensation, your thumb smoothing over her hip bone. "Hold the toy still, Rangiku. You keep begging for speed, but you can't even handle what you're already being given. You get a bit dumb after cumming so many times, hmm? It's okay, baby."
"You're mean," she whimpers, though her internal walls clamp down on the silicone shaft in a tight, desperate squeeze that completely betrays her words. Her chest heaves as she tries to follow your command, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "The Rose is buzzing too fast... I can't stay still for you."
"You can," you tell her, leaning forward to press a warm kiss to the side of her neck, right where her pulse thumps hard against your lips. "Be a good girl and stay still for me. It's better when it builds up."
The fluid strings between your flesh with every retreat, leaving a messy trail across your lap. The silence of the room is long gone, replaced by the sound of skin striking silicone and the steady hum of the toy. The cotton sheets beneath you are thoroughly ruined, soaked through with sweat and her previous releases.
Rangiku tilts her head back, her mouth open as she gasps for air. You lean across her jaw and catch her lips in a sloppy, deep kiss. Her tongue tangles with yours in a slick, wet slide that matches the motion of your hand below. She moans into your mouth, the sound growing louder, turning into a desperate vibration as her inner thighs begin to shake uncontrollably. Her internal muscles lock around the toy like a vice, tightening so hard your knuckles ache from holding the base.
"I'm gonna cum," she gasps into the kiss, her toes curling. "I'm going to squirt all over you, honeyy—"
Suddenly, a heavy, hot gush of fluid erupts from her. She squirts hard, the sheer pressure of the release trying to push the dildo straight out of her body. You don't let her escape the fullness. You lock your wrist, forcing the thick shaft forward, plunging deep into her core and fucking her right through the peak of her release. Rangiku screams into the kiss, her eyes rolling back as she curses through her teeth, her fingers digging deep into your thigh as she cries your name over and over into the dark room.
You gradually slow down, letting the dildo slide out with a soft, wet sound. You lean forward, pressing a tender kiss to her damp forehead. Her long waves are a wild, matted tangle around her face, and she looks undone, her blue eyes glassy and unfocused as she catches her breath.
"Flip over onto your stomach," you murmur, your fingers trailing down her stomach.
She blinks, looking a bit dazed by the sheer exhaustion of her climax, but she takes a breath and rolls over onto her chest, burying her face into the cover while keeping her ass tilted up toward you.
She lets out a muffled, breathless chuckle into the fabric. "This position is kind of embarrassing, you know. I'm a lieutenant, I should be aloud some dignity."
You get up on your knees behind her, your eyes raking over the gorgeous curve of her backside. "You'll like it like this."
A shiver ripples through her shoulders, her hips giving a small, eager wiggle of anticipation as you run the flat of your thumb over her drenched folds from behind. A wave of pure satisfaction washes over you, your own arousal spiking purely from the sight of her. You decide you're going to eat her pussy from behind until she's begging again, then you'll drive the dildo back into her, spending the rest of the night exploring where else that vibrator can make her scream.
·⭑·𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅·⭑·
тαgℓιѕт: @aizawash0e , @h3avenlyglory 💞
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Dividers by @hannabannachana
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