He’s got your legs pinned back against your chest, fucking you nice and steady. Arthur — ever the lover boy — is panting above you like a damn mutt in heat. You’re spread open to him, pussy soaked and dripping, your walls sucking him in.
You’re moaning his name in a sweet voice. “Arthur.. oh Arthur… Arthur..” soft sighs escaping your kiss bruised lips. He could hardly register anything, could hardly form a thought. All he heard was the soft calling of your voice and feeling the flutters and squeezing on his cock from your velvet walls that had him ready to burst a hundred times over.
He was really in his own world. Arthur’s large hands kept your legs pinned back as he towered over you, cock sliding in and out of your hole at his own pleasurable pace. His eyes were shut and his head was tipped back as groans and grunts fell from his lips. Arthur was damn near a babbling mess, hardly forming a coherent thought before useless words slipped from his mouth.
A breathy tone he would sometimes murmur ‘fuck’ ‘oh Jesus’ ‘yes…yess..yes…’ or ‘sh-itttt’ before letting out a long groan that went straight to your pussy. You didn’t even care that he was using you for his own pleasure — too lost in the moment to remember your own. Seeing him a mess above you was your own type of heaven. It made your walls more slick and dripping.
And when he’d get close to coming, his eyes would finally open back up and snap down to where he was disappearing inside you. He’d make you take your own legs and hold them back so he could grip onto the sheets while he picked up the pace of this thrusts, his hips snapping quicker. Arthur would really be panting like a dog then as he fucked into you. His groans turned into moans that softly escaped his throat, eyes half lidded while watching his own cock and your boobs bounce.
With his cock twitching uncontrollably inside you, Arthur would fall forward into you as he came deep inside. His thrusts would slow, delivering slow but heavy thrusts to ride out his high. Moaning and grunting into your neck as your pussy squeezed and constricted around him.
You’d run your hands down his back, threading your fingers through his hair as he eased your legs back down to his hips. When he’d finally come up from the crook of your neck, hair a mess and a fucked out look on his face you’d smile up at him, kissing his cheek and jaw.
Arthur would grin right back at you, closing his eyes as you kissed his face. “Sorry..” he’d murmur while turning his head to capture your lips. You’d mumble back about it being okay, that you knew he’d make up for it in a gentle teasing tone.
And boy did he.
With his cock hardened again, Arthur would fuck you until you were the babbling mess. Hips drilling into your own, down right filth spilling from his mouth, guttural groans right in your ear. He’d make sure that you came twice or more before even thinking about himself coming again.
A/C: hey y'all I just thought of this idea so why not give it a try and reposting helps lol but here you guys go I know y'all are starving..
Warning:MDNI/smut/doggie style/mating press/69~
Characters: Jabber Tamsy Follo
JABBER- doggie style
Jabber would be the type to do doggie style...it's basically when you are on your hands and knees it's something about him fucking you hard and raw from behind I mean he is so fucking crazy fucking you from behind especially when pulling your hair doing so he loves reaching up to pull your hair all hard kissing you on your neck leaving them crazy ass bite marks that takes days for them to fade and you would let him out scars on you I mean scratches that would pain mixing in with the pleasure it feels so good to him how he would let you hit on him during sex just to get off and nut deep inside you...
TAMSY- mating press
Tamsy would be the type to do mating press where your knees are to your chest and fucks you knowing you can't move away from him either just you moaning and him deep up inside of your cervix you swear you could feel him inside of your fucking stomach you lol out moans for him your eyes rolling in the back of your damn skull I mean that's just how much he loved you to do so I mean he was thrusting inside you just as hard causing you to squeeze him tightly you just couldn't help it at all..
Follo- 69
I feel like Follo would do this type of position where you're both getting pleasure at the same time you sucking on his cock and him sucking and licking up on your pussy you sucking on his dick gagging up on it and fiddling with his balls as you did so and him licking on your nice creamy wet pussy that tasted absolutely delicious to him it would drive him crazy about it until you both cum together at the same time your mouth full of his cum and his mouth full of your juices you both swallowing and lapping them up and finishing...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~lilmisstea~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hey y'all thanks for reading and make sure you repost please just to get this to more people it helps a lot but it seems your milk shake just got filled by-lilmissteascafe...
Synopsis: A morning of heavy, sun-drenched love between you and your boyfriend Arthur.
paring: Arthur x fem reader
warnings: tiny SMUT. no use of y/n, uses of darling, established relationship, kissing, dry humping.
wc: ~1.2k
Shady Belle is ugly, dilapidated, and stinks of humid air and sweat. But that doesn't stop Arthur. He is a sucker for a good sunrise.
Arthur stands at his window in his small room. The heat of the rising sun spreading across his face and his bare chest. His suspenders hang from his waistband, as he took a break from dressing for the day to take a moment to revel in the peaceful sun.
He takes his cigarette out of his mouth, letting a cloud of smoke fill the empty room. He didn't know where you were, probably outside with the rest of the gang, where he should be.
You walk up the stairs in search of Arthur. He usually never sleeps in, and the absence of his guff, but nonetheless morning greetings at the coffee percolator had felt like a missing piece of his morning. You assumed if Arthur was not outside with everyone yet, he must be in the room you share.
The grand staircase of Shady Belle groans under your weight, the wood soft with rot. You're afraid that one of these days it's just going to give up and someone will fall from the second to the first floor.
You reached the door. You slowly and quietly opened it, not wanting to wake Arthur if he was still sleeping.
But, you weren't expecting the view you were going to get.
You fully opened the door, seeing Arthur basked in the sunlight. His bare back contoured with the warm light.
The sight of him steals the air right out of your lungs. The muscles of his back, the expanse of his shoulders tapers down to a narrow waist, morning light catching every scar. He looks like a statute carved from the oak from the trees outside.
Arthur took one last puff of his cig and put it out on the small nightstand next to him, the smell of charred pin momentarily cutting through the stagnant swamp air.
He turned around, instantly face with you. He jumped slightly, his hand to his heart.
"Jesus." Arthur let out a small chuckle, his voice still having that gravelly, morning register that always made your knees feel a weak. "Didn't know you were there, darlin'."
The chuckle he lets out is deep, a low rumble that vibrates in the small, humid room. He doesn't immediately reach for his shirt that was draped on top of the bed. Instead, he just stands there, the morning light now surrounding him like an angel.
"Sorry, Arthur. I didn't know you were asleep or not." You answered.
Arthur shrugged. "Don't apologize sweetheart." He walked over to you, the floorboards making the same groan as they did when you made your way up the stairs, and placed his hands on your waist.
"I was just looking for you." You looked up into his eyes. "Coffee's ready. Thought you might've slept in."
Arthur let out a low, huffed breath that was almost a laugh. The heat radiating off his bare chest like a furnace, making the already thick air in the room feel electric.
"Slept in?" Arthur repeated your words as if they were a foreign concept.
His grip felt your soft cotton of your skirt, rubbing the fabric in between his fingers. Arthur didn't seem in any hurry to go get his coffee.
"Coffee and everyone else can wait a minute," he murmured, his head titling just enough to cast a shadow over your face. One of his hands slid from your waist, his large palm coming up to cup your cheek. His thumb, rough from years of handling reins and revolvers, trace the line of your jaw with aching slowness.
"You look real pretty in this light," he rasped. "Makes it hard for a man to think about anything else."
"I always look pretty." You retorted, your smile slowly growing.
Arthur laughed. "Yer right."
Arthur's gaze dropped to your lips, his breath hitching. He was waiting, not because he was unsure because you both kissed all the time, but because he was giving you every second to tell him if you wanted him to stop.
You looked up at him giving him a small nod.
Arthur let out a small exhale and closed the distance. He pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes closing as he just leaned into you, savoring the quiet.
"Sometimes," he whispered against your skin, "I wish we could just stay right here. Let the world go on without us for a while. Just for today."
Arthur finally founds his way to your lips that promised more than just a "good morning". Behind him, the sun continued to climb, turning the room into a haze of gold, but for Arthur, the only light that now mattered was right in front of him.
The kiss was slow and deep. You tasted the tobacco of the cigarette Arthur had just smoked, and the sweetness that only ever seemed to exist within these small, four walls of your shared room.
Arthur's hands moved with a sudden, restless urgency. One slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair to hold you steady, while the other pulled you flush against his chest.
Without breaking the kiss, Arthur grabbed you, turning the both of you and backed him up until the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed. Arthur sat down, guiding you on top of him. Your skirt draped over his legs as you straddled him.
He moved you back and forth, creating tension between your hips and his. The friction was a slow, agonizing burn through the layers of fabric.
Arthur's hands were everywhere. One was tangled in your hair to keep your mouths fused together, the other clamped tight on your waist to guide the rhythm.
Amongst your soft, muffled moans, Arthur let out a low, muffled Goran against your lips, a sound of pure need. Every time you shifted against the heavy denim of his trousers, Arthur's breath hitched.
He bucked upward slightly, meeting your movements with a desperate, rhythmic pressure that made your head spin. The heat radiating off his bare chest was staggering, and you could feel the frantic, heavy thud of his heart against your own.
"Darlin'..." Arthur gasped into the small space between your lips.
The bed groaned beneath the two of you, the rhythmic CREEK, CREEK, CREEK keeping in pace with the frantic movement of your bodies.
Just as you both reached a fever pitch, a heavy pounding rattled the door in its frame.
"ARTHUR! ARTHUR!"
It was Bill. And he sounded like he was standing just outside of the thin wood door.
"Dutch is yellin' for ya! Somethin' about that bank robbery! Get your hide out here!"
Arthur froze, his forehead dropping onto your shoulder with a heavy, defeated thud. His chest was heaving, his skin slick with a fine sheen of sweat.
"Alright Bill, be out there in a second."
He didn't move for a long moment, his hands still gripping your hips as if he were trying to memorize the feeling before he had to let go.
"I'm gonna kill him," Arthur muttered into your neck, "I'm truly gonna kill that man." You let out a laugh.
He squeezed your waist one last time, a lingering press that promised this was far from over, before he leaned back, looking up at you with a wry smile.
"Reckon duty calls," he rasped, "but don't you think for a second I'm forgettin' this. Tonight, when the moons out, and there ain't no Bill Williamson."
a/n: a quick little somethin somethin. the next chapter of My Mouth Is Clean, My Hands Are Dirty is coming next weekend!
𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 | Angry sex (Not anger towards reader), mockery, teasing, debatably degrading language.
...
“I told the bloody bastards not– ” he furiously said as he pounded into your cervix, his words coming out as a pleasured, enraged grunt to “to do that— but they didn’t fucking listen”. With those same utterances, he had spurted into you for the 3rd time. His cum seeping, out of your cock filled hole, as you attempt to recover from yet, another leg-shaking orgasm.
Klaus had a frustrating day. His “bloody hybrids” didn't want to listen—some had even chosen to rebel—Elijah kept a strong attitude with him, causing the rest of his siblings to follow suit. And of course, all the others who had attempted to kill him and contest him.
Overall, the day was stressful and as he says, “Bloody exhausting”, and he was in the mood to blow steam.
Thus when he came home, saw you in those little shorts that barley covered your ass, and that big, smug smirk on your face once you saw him—knowing exactly what you were doing to him—he had the urge to blow that steam right then and there.
However, knowing his rather stressed state, and not wishing to take it out on you in any way, he was reluctant at first. However you, as the audacious and cocky person you are, said you can “handle it” and that “you've had worse”.
And when he had warned you that he might not be the “nicest" or “gentlest" today, but you still urged him, and pressed your practically nude body against his rough denim jeans, he relented.
Which now leads you to this current situation. Your shorts and underwear were long since discarded, and your shirt was torn, a while back, revealing your slightly bruised jiggling breast. Your throat was horase, from the numerous moans, pants and screams that escaped out of you as he thrusted into your body tirelessly.
Your cunt was bursting with his mutiple loads of cum, that oozed out of you with each thrust. You would’ve thought your insides were bruised from how much, how long, and how deliciously hard he fucked you.
Klaus continued venting, complaining to you, and engaging in conversation as if he's not fucking your poor brains out. After a while, you stopped listening and paying attention.
Half of it was due to a lack of interest in whatever he had to say, as after a while, he simply kept repeating the same thing. The other half however was due to the difficulty to concertrate with his cock burying itself and making it’s rightful place into your fucked out pussy.
You couldn’t keep up with the conversation, and after a while, you could hardly keep up with his cock that seemed to thrust into you before you take another breath of air.
“Wait–” you wail, before being cut off by his cock pounding into you, causing another moan to evade your throat, mid-sentence “S-Slow down”.
“Slow down? Hasn’t this cunt been through much worse? Can’t you can handle it?” he grunts with a mocking undertone, quoting what you had stated earlier as he pounded into your pussy, yet again. You throw your head back in pleasure before you can respond and another audible moan escapes your lips.
“Are you even listening to what I was telling you?”
His previous complaints about his family, enemies, or those “bloody hybrids” had now been replaced with complaints about you. “‘Too fast, Too hard’, but you always seem to cum as I fuck your pussy the way I please, so what exactly do you want me to do love?”
His length plunges into your walls harder than before, deliciously hitting them in all the right ways. Though he seemed annoyed and still slightly frustrated from earlier, his scowl was now substituted with a mockingly smug grin that stretched across his lips, leaving an annoyingly attractive dimple on his left cheek.
“So then how do you want me to fuck you? You seem to be enjoying me quite fine, you’ve already came 4 times.” he groaned with a wide smirk before plugging his cock deeper. “What is it, that you’d like me to do then, love? That I haven’t tried with your sweet cunt”
“I-I just can’t…It's too much-feels too good.” You whimper, “It's too much…-can't handle it”
“That little pussy of yours is tired is it? But it's still squeezing me so hard,” he smirks smugly, his girth stretching you to the point you feel like he's splitting you open. “You can handle it, I’ve treated this cunt of yours ‘worse’…isn’t that what you said earlier?” He pounds faster into you pussy, his semen leaking out of your hole, making way for his new load.
His breathe becomes labored as more groans and gunts exit out of his lips. “This cunt of yours is too bloody tight” he grunted “I can’t even remember what the hell I was mad about.”
He thrusts into you faster, and faster, your moans competing with his hard, fast pace. His cock pounds into your cunt, as if it was made to. Finally, when the world flashes white, and the loudest moan escapes your slighly brusied lips, he cums into you.
A thick white load that fills you up completely, that leaves you so satisfingly full.
As your body still shudders and spasms from the aftershocks, your head lolls back. Some of your senses become lost, and your mind was so completely dazed that it was difficult to think.
“-ain…” You hear Klaus’s voice say as your senses come back after such an intense orgasm. “...What?” you mutter in a dazed hoarse voice, your vocal cords strained from all of your screaming.
An irritated expression emerged on Klaus's face as he pushed back his sweated-out hair. “I said...” he murmured, his eyebrows still furrowed in pleasure, and small pants still escaped past his reddish lips.
This is not proofread so i apologize. My first formal attempt at writing a fic. All for my bestie @emptypringlescanister 😫♥️
THIS IS NSFW SO MINORS DNI
It had been a long week, a long month really. Work was hectic as all hell, and working with the public was never easy. Your body ached and your mind was well passed tired. So the grueling hours on top of the recent lack of sleep. It was all starting to pile up to say the least.
The biggest cherry on top of the shit pile however, was that the guy you’ve been ‘seeing’ turned out to be horrible in the bedroom. You weren’t superficial enough to fully give up on him. But it was disappointing, if you wanted to take care of yourself after every shag you would have just gotten a new toy. But he was sweet, he held the door and never pressured you into anything.
In this day and age that was hard to come by. Or at least that’s what you told your roommates. The two men sitting on the couch faces alight with amusement. They encouraged you to do whatever made you happy. Well vessel did ii however was much more forthcoming with his opinion.
“I think you should dump the poor idiot. It’s not that hard to navigate between a woman’s legs” he spoke the words confidently, that same smug smirk he always wore when he thought he was right. Vessel stifled back a laugh and slapped ii’s chest. “Alright mate, maybe he’s just inexperienced or something. Not everyone is a ladykiller” trying to make any excuse to try and lessen the embarrassment on your part.
But their words were stuck deep in your mind. After another long week of finishing on your own fingers. Your mind started to drift from your former muse, instead being lead directly to the bright eyes of the shorter of your two roommates. His sly smile and wide shoulders. The way he seemed so confident in his words. I mean sure you’d heard him bring women home. You’d never made noises quite that loud before. But the women seemed to fully enjoy it.
Night after night you found yourself whining his name into your pillow. Writing under your own touch doing all you could to satisfy that insatiable ache. Vessel found his way into those thoughts eventually. Especially when you could hear him through your shared wall. Playing his keyboard or spread out on the couch writing. You were starting to think maybe you just needed a good lay.
That your hormones were getting the best of you. Never having thought of these two men in that way before. Not that they were unattractive. It was just an unspoken rule, maybe that’s why the taboo got you all hot and bothered. However you weren’t the only one acutely aware of your situation. Both men had noticed how tightly wound you had been.
Confining yourself to your room. Rarely outside of your pajamas on your days off. The way you couldn’t seem to hold conversation let alone eye contact with either of them. So it was a surprise when you came home one night to an empty house. A messily wrapped box on the counter. The rectangular box peaking out of the paper in some spots.
A messily written note laid beside it on the countertop. Etched In red pen on a spare piece of printer paper. No doubt of ii’s doing.
“obviously the bloke won’t shag you right. Dump him and use this for a few hours, we miss our fun Rachel”
The words made your cheeks flush. Reading it over a few times, before you built up the courage to open the package. Your jaw falling slack when your eyes landed on the wand. The large white device was no doubt one of the expensive ones. It came with a plug in cord, because in ii’s mind it was more powerful that way. Couldn’t have it dying on you, not when your sanity seemed to be at stake.
It was almost embarrassing how quickly you discarded the box. Running off to your room, the device definitely relieving a good bit of your stress. By the time you finished your little play session. It was well into the early morning. You had just drifted off as the sound of the front door opening woke you. Rubbing at your eyes as you heard the two going to their respective rooms. A sudden wave of embarrassment taking hold of you.
His little gift definitely helped, but not in the way he hoped. Especially now with this new layer of shame. So when you continued to hide away. ii grew impatient, thinking that maybe that wasn’t enough. It took a little convincing. But he soon got vessel on his side. Deciding to make a plan to force you to hang out with them. He could only fix this problem if he could at least get you to sit and speak to them.
So ii sent a message in the shared group chat. Telling you that you were going to participate in movie night. or they were dragging you out of your room by force. Of course it was playful but there was definitely something about the way he said it. Like he had much more in mind for you. You let your mind run wild with possibilities for the rest of your shift. Time seeming to only drag now that you had plans.
Soon thought you were pulling into the driveway. Your hands shaking slightly at the sudden rush of adrenaline. Pushing your key into the door. You were greeted with a dim lit room. The smell of pizza and beer filling your nostrils. Closing the door behind you, ii instantly got to his feet. Making his way through the living room to greet you. “Long time no see stranger, here you sip this I’m gonna have ves pick the movie” he spoke smoothly. Clearly having nursed his own drink or two.
Holding the chilled bottle you followed him into the living room. A palate made of blankets and pillows covered the area between the two couches. Essentially blocking you in, taking a sip from your beer as your eyes landed on vessel. Laid out on the couch in a sweatshirt and shorts. Hair messy under the hood as he gazed up at you with an attentive smile. “Ah almost forgot your pretty face ya’ been gone so long” he mused and chuckled.
Motioning for you to sit wherever you wanted. The two men sharing a momentary look between them. Watching as you settled down onto the floor pallet. Vessel had some horror movie pulled up, explaining his choice to you. Though you were far too busy wondering exactly where this night was going. ii soon joined the both of you. Handing you a plate of random food things they’d picked up. You couldn’t deny it did feel good to be doted on. But it didn’t help your wandering mind, especially when they both moved to sit beside you.
Their towering frames making you feel much smaller than you were used to. Nervously staring at the screen as the movie started. Vessel stealing a cookie from your plate. “Eat something love, especially if you’re drinking. Can’t have you passing out on us so early” he teased his eyes never leaving the screen. A satisfied hum leaving his lips as you immediately began to nervously eat.
The entirety of the movie the two men seemed to be passing you back and forth. Vessel brushing your hair back, ii draping his arm over the couch behind you. Sharing glances between each other every time you seemed to stiffen up at their actions. As the first movie ended vessel handed the remote to you. “Pick something you don’t mind not paying attention to” he spoke and sat up. Grabbing the empty bottles and your plate.
Leaving you alone with two as he cleaned up a bit. ii chuckled seeing your wide eyed expression. “Don’t worry, we aren’t going to bite. Well not unless you ask me to of course” his words fell from his lips in a soothing tone. Gently rubbing your back, chuckling as your hands fumbled to find some random movie. “Don’t be so nervous it’s just us dove, we won’t give you anything you can’t handle yeah?” He added taking the remote from your hands.
Smiling down at you as he sat up. Brushing some of your hair behind your ear. “You look so shocked, you know you shouldn’t be. The walls in this house are rather thin. And my name sounds far too beautiful falling from these lips, I fancy hearin’ it for myself” he spoke his eyes locked on yours. Moving his hand to brush your cheek before settling his thumb on your lips.
Just in time for vessel to return taking his place at your side. A smirk playing on his lips seeing the way ii had you practically drooling already. “It seems the present ii was so kind to get you. Didn’t exactly fix our predicament. So maybe being properly fucked will hm?” Vessel hummed his fingers tracing over your neck. Circling your shoulder before cupping your jaw. Turning you to look up at him. “Would you like that? For us to fuck you darling” his words were a dangerously low whisper. Eyes tracing over your features for any sign of resistance.
You shook your head and ii chuckled. Leaning in to speak directly into your ear. “Oh you’re a big girl use your words baby” he urged warm lips brushing the shell of your ear. Your body flushed, melting into their touch. “.. yes, please” The words fell from your lips before you could stop them. You meant each word, but the logical part of you screamed to tell them that this was a bad idea. But flush between their bodies you could do little with your critical thinking.
A satisfied hum left both of their lips. Leaning toward you, only to meet each others lips instead of yours. Vessel cradled ii’s jaw, capturing the smaller man in a slow sensual kiss. Only pulling away after they were both out of breath, Ii immediately attaching his lips to yours. Stealing your breath with his heated kiss. Vessel busting himself with kissing your neck. Sucking soft purple marks into the flesh. ii swallowing each moan as they fell from your lips to his.
“Good girl so responsive for us” vessel mused against your skin. ii allowed his hands to roam the expanse of your back. Snaking his hand up to tangle in your hair. Separating the kiss as he pulled the strands. Vessel wasting no time in replacing ii’s lips with his own. Smiling against your warm skin. Slipping his tongue past your puffy lips. A groan left ii’s lips at the sight. “God you look so perfect like this baby” his words were laced with lust. The gravel of it evident in his tone.
“Let vessel take care of you, I’ll be right back princess” he spoke, his words barely processing before he stood. Vessel keeping you entirely entranced as his hand caressed your breast. Kneading it as he hummed against your lips. His thumb brushing over your clothed nipple. Feeling it pebble under his touch. His teeth gently biting at your lip. Pulling away for a moment to watch you. Wide eyes darkened with lust. “Such a good girl.. feels good yeah?”
Your mind fell blank when his hand trailed down your torso. Settling between your spread legs. Rubbing slow circles over your clothed heat. “I can’t wait to fuck this tight little cunt” voice just above a whisper as he watched your expression. Lip tucked between his teeth as he coaxed wanton moans from your lips. ii returned after a few agonizing minutes. “I’ve got her nice and warmed up for you mate” vessel spoke up to the man before him.
Craning his neck to kiss his friend as ii bent to thank him. “Perfect, your reward is getting to be the first to make her cum” he spoke against vessel’s lips. The taller man groaned at ii’s words. Taking the toy ii had retrieved from his hands. Moving to plug in the wand. ii held his hand out for you “up you go princess, let’s get you out of these clothes yeah?” His fingers brushed the hem of your shirt. Waiting until you gave him consent. But the moment he had it he was practically ripping the fabric from your body.
Capturing your lips with his once again. Before pulling you into him. Turning you around before settling back onto the padded floor. Sitting you between his legs hooking your thighs over his muscular legs. Spreading you bare, raising his eyebrows at the creak your poor hips made at the extension. “I didn’t break you yet did I doll?” He asked looking down at you from over his shoulder. Your flushed face gave away that you were okay and he quickly let it go. Vessel returning just in time to settle between your legs. Smiling down at you like a mad man.
Taking in your fully bare form, both of them were straining against their clothes. So hard it almost hurt. “Go ahead vess, the faster you get her off the faster we can finally fuck her” ii urged and vessel nodded eagerly. Turning the wand on he leaned forward. ii settling you back against him. Holding your throat in one hand as the other moved down to spread you better. Vessel pressing the toy directly to your clit. His attention fully on the way your body responded. “Yeah? S’that good love?” Your frantic head shaking assuring him that he was doing perfect.
His cheeks flushed, practically drooling as he watched you. ii smirked at the taller man, “look what you’ve done Rachel, you’ve made our boy stupid for your cunt” his words only made vessel blush deeper. “He’s practically drooling, I think he deserved to cum soon yeah? Why don’t you go ahead and let go for us” his words made your head dizzy. Vessel turned the wand up to its highest setting. Watching you with pure excitement in his gaze. You didn’t last much longer. Overwhelmed with all of the attention.
The moment you tipped over the edge. They were practically all over you. Vessel kissing you deeply. Drool covering both of your lips by the end of it. ii carefully urging you forward, until you were perfectly on your hands and knees. Vessel breaking the kiss to eagerly undress himself. ii’s hands roaming over your hips. Watching as your cunt clenched around nothing. “Fuck… please tell me you’re ready, I don’t know how much longer I can wait.” ii’s voice was desperate. His touch gentle but his thoughts were far from it. When you eagerly begged to be taken they both hissed in desperate relief.
ii pulling himself free of his clothes, stroking his cock slowly as he pulled vessel closer. “Go ahead and show vessel how good of a cock sucker you are baby” his words were soon followed with a gasp from vessel. The smaller man holding his throat tightly as he leaned in to kiss him. Groaning against his lips with every stroke of his own hand. But when vessel shook with a wave of pleasure he pulled away. Watching as you took the man into your mouth. His jaw falling slack at the sight. Stroking himself once more before lining up with your wet entrance.
Pushing in slowly, he hissed at the way you gripped him. His head was practically spinning already. Hands moving from vessel to grip your hips. As vessels tangled in your hair. “F-fuck oh my god” vessel practically whimpered his thighs shaking. Trying desperately to take in everything. Gaze shifting from your lips around him to the way ii bottomed out inside of you. ii gave you a moment to adjust before he started to rock his hips. A string of curses and pants leaving his lips at the feeling of your warm cunt.
“Such a good little thing for us, we just might have to keep you yeah?” He spoke earning an eager nod from vessel. A wide smile on his lips as he could already feel himself getting close. “Fuck you feel so good, made just for our cocks..” ii groaned
Bringing his hand down to slap the flesh of your ass. Hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he quickened his pace. The both of you were amused when vessel shook and whined. Exclaiming just how close he was. “Fuck.. can I, can I cum in your mouth baby” his words were broken with panting breaths. Staring down at you like you hung the stars. Before letting out a shaking groan, hands tightening in your hair.
Finishing in the warmth of your mouth. Pulling you off of him with a pop. His sensitive cock starting to slowly soften. As he leaned down to kiss you hungrily. “Fuck, thank you.. such a good girl. Made me feel so fucking good” he breathed out as he pulled away. Pressing his forehead against yours. the motion on ii’s hips bumping your heads together making him chuckle. “Does he feel good baby, I know I love watching it” he spoke in awe of the sight before him.
ii smirked at the sight of you two. His thrusts becoming more erratic. “Getting close princess… ves.. get the wand” his grunts interrupting each word as his hips met your ass. Sure to leave bruises in their wake. Vessel did as told turning on the wand once again. “Can you spread that pretty cunt for me baby?” He spoke softly against your cheek. Waiting until you are ready to press the vibratory to your swollen clit. ii groaned at the way you squeezed around him. Moving his hands from your hips to lace them together under your chin. Holding you up so vessel could access you better.
“Good.. fucking.. girl” ii panted feeling you throb around him with each thrust. The room was filled with the wet sounds of your body and the low buzz of the toy. Vessel’s quiet pants muffled by the sound of ii’s desperate cries. Clenching his teeth as he felt the pressure within him ready to break. “I’m gonna cum baby, make you all mine.” He gasped watching the way you shook below him. Coming undone around him. Griping him as you rode out your high. “Yeah you deserve my cum don’t you, been such a good fucking girl.. ahh fuckkk” his voice cracked as he thrusted deep inside of you.
Doubling over as he allowed his orgasm to wash over him. Biting down onto your shoulder to keep himself from yelling. Vessel kept the vibrator on you until he was sure you were both done. Smiling widely as you both relaxed. ii carefully pulling out before pulling you to lay against his chest. Vessel moving to sit on the other side of you both. “Well, that was certainly a lot of fun, hopefully you have fully given up on that bloke now” ii spoke and chuckled kissing the side of your head.
“Why don’t I run us all a bath yeah?” Vessel spoke brushing your hair away from your face. “You look pretty fucked out right about now” he teased and pecked your lips. “Hopefully something we will see a hell of a lot more often” ii mused and smiled at the both of you. “Agreed” you breathed out voice barely above a whisper.
Hate is a feeling too raw, too primal – a kind of weakness Aizen likes to exploit. He knows how to provoke it, then use it for his own gain.
He considers hate strategically important, except when he is the one experiencing it.
The memory of his defeat at the hands of Kurosaki Ichigo lives inside his mind like a scar on flesh – indelible and ugly. For him, it works as a reminder – an important lesson. It shows him a new horizon of Shinigami powers.
In a way, he is thankful to Kurosaki for teaching him about the true form of a zanpakutō.
He holds no grudge against the boy.
But Kisuke Urahara… that man is a whole different story.
Urahara tricked him with his clever strategy to fire a sealing Kidō when Aizen was still vulnerable. It worked. He got sealed – check for Urahara. Not checkmate, no – as long as Aizen is alive this game of chess isn’t over.
Aizen broke his seal in a last-ditch effort, using what little remained of his godly power. But Urahara was prepared for that too, and recaptured him. His Shibari, Benihime technique turned out to be surprisingly efficient.
Now his arms are bound behind his back by blood-red ropes of Benihime. His ankles, thighs, and torso – also tied. His position – compromising, to say the least.
Aizen is kneeling before the man who ruined his plans twice already.
Urahara stares down at him – calm and observant – as if checking for the last ounce of Aizen’s transcendence, searching for it in his unnaturally colored eyes. Or are his eyes back to normal? Aizen doesn’t know that. After all, he is reduced to what he was before – a simple Shinigami. No wings, no third eye, no long, majestic hair – he was robbed of his glorious, godly evolution by none other than this insufferable man.
“Don’t look at me like that. Like I’m the sole source of your misery,” Urahara opens his mouth for the first time since the recapture, and instantly makes it sound like it is Aizen’s own fault. His voice is light in tone but heavy in meaning. “You made your choices. I made mine. Can we be civil about it, Aizen-san?”
“Your sealing turned me into a mere object,” Aizen snaps at him, spite seeping through his every word.
Urahara nods, not denying anything. “I did what was necessary.”
There is no apology in his tone and Aizen hears it for what it is: a matter-of-fact statement. He detests the audacity of it. He also loathes the sensation boiling inside his stomach, and the hot waves of anger going straight to his head.
“You endangered the balance, let your soul be rewritten, let the Hōgyoku reshape you beyond your own projections,” Urahara continues calmly. Not quite an accusation. But to Aizen, down on his knees and wrapped in Kisuke’s Shikai like prey in a snare, it certainly sounds like one. “The Hōgyoku rejected you, and you don’t know why. I figured you could use some time alone to analyze it.”
“Mock me all you like,” Aizen rasps, voice low and dangerous. “But I acted while you only ever reacted.”
“You’re missing the point. Tell me, Aizen-san, why do you think I gave Kuchiki Rukia the gigai with the Hōgyoku inside it?” The man asks, suddenly colder – more serious. “The orb was untraceable for over a century, hidden safely at my shop. So why give it away?”
Aizen’s eyes widen – uncontrollably so, Urahara’s logic takes him by surprise.
“You’re a smart man, Aizen-san.” The praise rings false, especially to Aizen. “You must have noticed that letting the Hōgyoku drift back to the Soul Society, and out of my reach, was counterproductive. Unless…”
He doesn’t need to explain any further, Aizen’s brain is already filled with the implications.
“You intended for me to have it,” he isn’t even asking. His mind is fighting back against the crashing disillusionment.
Urahara’s expression doesn’t read as smug, the man neither gloats nor smirks – if anything, he looks thoughtful, contemplative even. “It seems, you were reacting to me just as much as I was to you.”
The line sums it up in the most inconvenient way Aizen can imagine.
He clenches his jaw, holding back his Reiatsu. His mouth doesn’t argue but his ego does.
Ridiculous! Absurd, his inner monologue insists. He couldn’t have planned this all along. That cannot be! He couldn’t have played me…
“Do you know how deeply I despise you?” he hears himself snarling.
It doesn’t sound like him – voice rough, stripped of polish, words scraping through his throat as if they had thorns. Nothing of his usual coolness remains in that outburst. This is what Kisuke Urahara has reduced him to: a raging little man.
“You made a mistake of letting go of your Hōgyoku,” he keeps going, unable to stop himself now that something has snapped inside him. “You know I am correct! The progress is needed! Only those who fear their own inadequacy would hide behind their morals and restrain! I shall stand above them! I am…”
His words are cut off mid-sentence.
Urahara’s hand is suddenly in his hair, fingers gripping hard. The movement is swift, cruelly effective as the palm yanks him forward, and Aizen’s face is abruptly met with Urahara’s crotch.
“I hate to interrupt,” Urahara says with the most irritating, almost jovial tone. “But you’re being unreasonably loud, Aizen-san. I find you more compelling when you’re quiet.”
The hand, deliberately placed at the crown of Aizen’s scalp, keeps him trapped in this position.
He can feel his face growing hot with frustration as his nose is being pressed further into the bulge in Kisuke’s pants. This is intentionally humiliating – this infuriating man knows exactly how much Aizen despises being handled.
The grip holds, firm and absolute. Aizen resents everything about it – the proximity, the heat, and the impossible to ignore scent of Urahara’s hardening cock.
He hates the sheer fact that he hates it, because it means feeling something – and feeling is a flaw.
And worse still, his resentment is slowly evolving into something else. Into something he likes even less.
A strategic thought arrives in his mind: I can still turn this situation to my advantage. If I am his captive, I will redefine the rules. I will act, test him instead. Take away his control.
He can make Urahara want him. Make him beg. Then deny him pleasure of satisfaction. Desire – much like hate – can be weaponized. But it is a risky game. Aizen Sōsuke is not afraid to take that risk.
He opens his mouth, not to protest – his voice would be smothered against the fabric anyway – but to feel the texture with his lips, the warmth bleeding through the layer.
He rubs his face against the groin. Once. With clear intention.
There is a twitch beneath the fabric.
Urahara’s grip on his hair tightens.
“You used to be more… subtle. The Hōgyoku’s influence, perhaps?”
Aizen shuts his eyes and nuzzles his whole face deeper, making it hard for Urahara to hide his growing excitement. All the spite that gathered in his stomach, now twists and swells – filling his guts with the same intensity but different direction. And the Hōgyoku sends a pleasant pulse through him, answering his newly born desire.
Before he can act on that impulse, Urahara pulls him by the hair and forces the distance between them. Aizen looks up: sees the ridiculous hat, the flat expression, and the measuring gaze. Urahara stares down at him – no anger, no surprise – and he feels studied rather than desired.
The hand in his hair releases its grip.
Urahara sinks down to crouch in front of Aizen.
He stills – it is not what he anticipated. Urahara should have been ready and willing, not… this. Whatever this is.
His captor leans toward him, their eyes now on the same level. They stare at each other in thick, hostile silence.
Then Urahara lowers his head, hiding his gray eyes from Aizen completely. “What you did – I mean, your fusion – it is… fascinating,” the words are spoken too softly, almost confessional at their core. “From a scientific standpoint, of course,” the researcher clarifies with a shadow of a smile dancing across his lips.
“Should I be flattered?”
“Please, don’t be.”
With that, Urahara reaches out – the tip of his finger touching the Hōgyoku.
The orb glows faintly, causing a ripple in Aizen’s Reiatsu flow.
He almost flinches at the sensation.
Urahara notices – doesn’t comment. These fingers of his keep brushing the orb – carefully, almost tenderly – a kind of touch that sends shivers through Aizen’s whole body.
“Remove your hand,” he orders, voice steady through effort.
Urahara ignores him, fingernails grazing over the smooth surface of the artifact embedded into Aizen’s chest – or rather, in his soul.
“Oh, don’t be like that. You observed me closely back in the day, didn’t you?” Urahara mutters, almost absentmindedly. “Allow me to return the favor.”
Dipping his head down, the man draws his face close to Aizen’s torso. “What if I do… this?”
“Don’t you dare treat me like I’m your experiment,” he means it as a threat – or warning. “I’m not your… mmhm.”
With a quick flicker of his wicked tongue Urahara tastes the glowing orb.
The reaction is immediate.
The surge of Reiatsu. Not directed outward – not defensively – but inward. As if a non-painful Raikōhō were running through Aizen’s flesh, causing his body hair to stand up.
He lets out a drawn-out sound he isn’t exactly proud of, and fights back the urge to pull away – not like the bonds will allow much movement.
“What are you doing?” he demands, breathlessly, struggling slightly against the bounds. The Shibari tightens, pressing harder – the red energy net buzzes around him, biting into his skin. “What nonsense is this?”
“I was simply wondering, how does it feel when it redirects your own desire back into you. If you wish to report the results, please do.”
Urahara pauses as if waiting for Aizen to reply. When Aizen doesn’t, the researcher resumes with the test: pressing his tongue harder this time – chasing the reaction, experimenting, exploring.
“You have no comprehension of what you’re influencing, Urahara,” he tries not to sound like he is affected but Urahara’s warm, traitorous tongue repeats the flickering move with a deliberate malice, and his composure cracks a little.
He holds his breath, refusing to moan. His muscles stiffen involuntarily. It makes no sense for it to feel this way when there shall be hate, and anger, and loathing.
“Oh, I beg to differ.” Urahara doesn’t even look him in the eyes, gaze focused solely on the spinning energy inside the Hōgyoku. “I have more than a clue. You’re feeding me feedback.”
“Don’t…” He cannot finish it without making himself look weak.
A pair of soft lips latch onto the orb.
Aizen shuts his mouth before a gasp can escape him.
Urahara sucks on the artifact with his full mouth. It takes him a few quick, vigorous licks before he pulls away to speak again.
“Don’t take it personally, Aizen-san. I’ll log it as data.”
That does it.
The fury strikes Aizen like a Kidō blast – hot and unbearable – his Reiatsu spikes in an uncontrolled manner.
He aims to assault Urahara – to show him his place.
Then, something entirely different occurs.
A subconscious doubt: Do I want to stop him?
And before his mind can contain it, the Hōgyoku reacts. Whatever transcendent power he still had within him now vanishes. And so do the remnants of his white, godly robes.
The fabric starts to crumble into pure Reishi and peel off of Aizen like a shedding skin. This leaves him bare, exposed in every sense: confused, embarrassed, and mad at Urahara. He wishes to be above it but his control is slipping as it obviously was from the very start of this encounter.
Benihime’s knots hold him well, burning into his naked skin like tongues of fire.
Urahara pulls away and lifts an eyebrow while taking in the scene. “Well,” he muses, eyes hidden by a shadow of his silly hat, “that’s an intriguing development…”
Aizen knows all too well where this nasty gaze is lingering.
It isn’t on the Hōgyoku.
He immediately rebukes himself for getting excited at this thought.
“How long are you planning to stare?” he taunts, compensating for how stripped of dignity he is right now.
Urahara smiles at him – a small, curious smile. “What do you think happens next?”
“You are a victor,” Aizen teases, handing him freely the illusion of power. “You decide.”
This is not a surrender, although it may look like one. It’s a conscious decision that makes perfect sense to Aizen at the moment.
“Well then,” Urahara nods. “If you insist. I may have a few ideas of what to do with you.”
The push comes unexpectedly – as Kisuke’s palm grabs his face, forcing him down onto his back with no hesitation. He doesn’t yelp, he never allows himself such crudeness, only a small grunt of discomfort escapes him as his body collides with the flooring.
This action puts him in an even more vulnerable position than before, much worse than kneeling before Urahara. Benihime’s net still holds him firmly, humming softly as if the blade herself were amused by Aizen’s misfortune.
Urahara hovers over him – one hand next to his head, the other placed on his torso beside the Hōgyoku. Slowly, he leans down and murmurs: “Shall we begin?” His breath inches away from Aizen’s earlobe – hot and ticklish across his skin.
These nimble fingers of a skilled tinkerer trace the shape of the orb that had brought them so close. After a moment of playful teasing, Urahara starts adjusting the binding. Aizen’s spine arches back in response, his thighs pulled apart by the shift in pressure.
He doesn’t resist this treatment, no – consent being its own kind of dominance.
His mind is made up.
And his cock is hard.
Despite his resentment, he feels the ugly need to allow this man to top him.
Urahara lowers himself, hand reaching down, fingers casting quick Rikujōkōrō. A small ring of light surrounds Aizen’s cock – the grip of the spell feels so right, it shamefully makes him gasp.
“Well, well,” Kisuke hums, admiring his work. “It seems, we’re finally reaching an understanding.”
Aizen closes his eyes. “It looks like we are.”
Perhaps his hatred toward Urahara is not deep enough.
Perhaps their worldviews could align as well, if their bodies can – symmetrical like a pair of elegant equations.
