Heaven sent

it was enzo. the guy you knew since you were in diapers. the guy with whom you shared countless of baths when you two were kids. the guy who was there through every embarrassing stage of your puberty.

staying in your underwear around one another was nothing.

“it’s the highest setting, right?” you mumbled after locking your phone and dropping it to the side, displeased by the little breeze of the electric fan.

“yeah…” he muttered back, slight disappointment latched onto the brief confirmation. he didn’t even bother to raise from his horizontal position, already recalling the desperation he had while smashing the plus button on the fan.

“ugh, i wanna peel my skin off my face.”

it was evening already, yet the heat was as persistent as ever. maybe you should get some ice from the freezer and just… dump it on you? yeah, maybe even sneak some pieces in your bra to cool off bett–

bing.

…

“oh, fuck off.”

checking your phone after the notification pierced the peaceful ambiance of the room, you immediately lock it back, infuriated by what you saw.

“again?”

enzo had a hunch about the source of your sudden rage, and by his short question and your audible huffs of annoyance, he knew he was right.

“is that michael guy still pestering you? didn’t you block him?”

“it looks like he made another account. ugh, why doesn’t he take the hint?”

you raised your upper half off the couch, leaning on the pads of your palms just for a few seconds, before diving head first between the scattered pillows next to you.

you groaned into them, and enzo could hear your agony even through the plush material.

“you told him you have a boyfr–?”

“multiple times. i even sent a picture of you to convince him.”

you did not have a boyfriend. you have been single for months now, but michael doesn’t need to know that. your sweet best friend enzo offered to play boyfriend to scare off the creep, but it seems like even that wasn’t enough.

“aaaand?”

“he knew we’re not together.”

you should’ve expected the number one stalker to recognize lorenzo from the pictures you have on your account.

“damn. i am sorry, babe.”

“ahh, it’s fine. i will just block him aga–”

bing.

“is that him again?”

enzo reacted more energic this time, jumping from his seat, abandoning his own phone, all to crawl towards your part of the couch. to see for himself what that weirdo does in your dms.

“wait, let me chec– oh my god, ewwwwwwwwwwww.”

if last time you dropped your phone on the couch, now you straight up threw it away from you. you shriek into a ball, clutching one of the pillows close to your chest and hiding in it. the heat no longer mattered as you were now dominated by disgust, captured by the need to be hidden.

“what? what?”

lorenzo panicked, eyes almost flaring out of his sockets at your unusual reaction. you were so affected by whatever you saw on your phone, you were almost shaking.

“that bastard sent me a dick pic. it looked like a bald rat, i feel like puking.”

enzo stilled for a second.

then he blinked.

“a bald rat?”

“yes.” you wailed, face still buried in the pillow. “a naked mole rat. pink and sickly and shiny. i’m traumatized.”

he snorted at your description. then choked on it trying to suppress his laugh, realizing it is not an appropriate reaction. “i’m sorry, i’m not laughing at you, babe, it’s just– god, that’s disgusting.” he reached for your shoulder carefully, hand warm and grounding as he gave you a gentle stroke.

“you okay?”

“no.” you mumbled pathetically, burying your face deeper into the softness. “i was just trying to exist. and now i’ve seen that. i need to bleach my brain. i need to send something back to scar him for life.”

enzo hummed, rubbing lazy circles into your shoulder. “like a revenge dick pic?”

“yeah. but…” you peeked at him from your pillow, lips pouting. “i don’t have a dick.”

he blinked again. and then his lips curled. slowly.

“so use mine.”

you raised your head so fast you nearly knocked foreheads with lorenzo. in that moment you realized just how close he was to you.

how close and naked he was.

“enzo–”

“what?” he grinned, boyish and infuriatingly calm, as if he hadn’t just offered to donate his cock for the cause. “he values dicks so much, i’ll give him one. free of charge. beautifully lit. no filters. let him compare.”

you gaped at him, blood boiling beneath your skin with every word of his, flushing your face with embarrassment.

he was just messing with you, right?

“you’re not serious.”

enzo moved his body closer, until your bare knees touched, and his palms spread over your naked thighs, keeping you still on the couch. with such proposals on his lips, enzo had a feeling you’d run away from him.

so he didn’t give you the opportunity at all.

“i’m dead serious. let me help you. he sends you a shitty unsolicited dick? you send back mine. i guarantee he’ll never message you again.”

you choked on a nervous laugh, trying to calm down your nerves and not read too much into it. lorenzo had no ulterior motives with such a suggestion, so why was your mind fostering unholy thoughts all of a sudden?

the nakedness of your two bodies didn’t help, especially now with his skin touching yours. his hands were firmly planted on your thighs, resting mainly on the top — only his fingers, fidgety and restless, tapped against your inner section.

making your head spin and forcing your legs to close up.

“you’re insane.” you whispered back at him, averting your gaze from his piercing ones and opting to stare at your abandoned phone.

he squeezed your thighs, fingers digging in the fat of your legs — bringing your eyes back on his.

“and you’re suffering. babe, come on. you know i’d do anything for you.”

your mouth went dry, spit refusing to further pool in. yet something else pooled... in your underwear.

his voice dropped just a little lower, his face dragging just a tad closer to your ear.

“i don’t want anyone making you feel unsafe. or disgusted. especially not some pathetic little creep who thinks his dick deserves attention.”

you swallowed, keeping focus on his gorgeous face; that mischievous glint in his eyes, the devious curl on his wet lips. he was still smiling, but there was something else in his expression now — sharp. protective. hungry.

and when you didn’t answer, enzo gently tugged you closer by your thighs, tilting his head.

“unless you’re too shy to see it?”

your lips parted, words rushing to get out in a short protest. “i’m not.”

“you sure?” he whispered, thumbs rubbing up your inner thigh now, almost brushing the edge of your panties. “because you can. if you want. i’ll even let you take the picture. show him what a real one looks like.”

your thighs squeezed together, trapping his digits briefly in between. your skin was warm, warmer than before, and where his hands stood — the patches burnt with unspoken desire. the heat licked up your spine too, spreading arousal all over your body like a raging fire.

you stared at him.

you’d known lorenzo your whole life.

and yet… right now, you couldn’t stop picturing what he would look like bare.

hard.

just for you.

your voice came out small, just a flimsy string of sanity keeping you away from his plan. “he won’t believe it’s real.”

enzo shrugged, eyes dark, whispering yet another possibility. “then we’ll take another. with your hand on it this time.”

“enzo!” you gasped, outraged by his proposition, going as far as pushing the pillow into his face.

but he only grinned wider, accepting your attacks with open arms and letting the pillow crash into his face. he immediately removed it, throwing it out of the way, and took back his position next to your blushing face.

“say the word, babe. i’ll even get it hard for you.”

you swallowed again.

you could feel your heartbeat in your throat, in your stomach, in the places where his thumbs were still drawing lazy little circles against your inner thighs.

the summer heat had nothing on the burn spreading beneath your skin now. and the look on his face — steady, teasing, inviting — wasn't helping.

“okay.” you murmured, almost like you were afraid to break the moment, finally giving in. “okay… let's do it.”

“yeah?” enzo’s brows lifted just a bit — surprised… or thrilled.

you nodded, lips parted, your tongue already poking out and wetting your lips.

“but… only if you get hard first. i’m not sending him a softie.”

enzo barked out a laugh, loud and wicked. “god, you’re fucking perfect.”

his hands slid from your thighs to his lap, lazily adjusting himself in his boxers. he was already half-hard, just from the idea of you seeing him. he didn’t even try to hide the way his cock twitched when you looked down, just once, then looked away quickly like you hadn’t meant to.

“c’mere.” he said, voice a little rougher now. “closer. talk to me.”

“talk to you?”

he hummed, stroking himself through the thin cotton, tentatively gripping his cock with his long fingers. he didn’t take it out yet — afraid to scare you — but you could still see the shape of him swelling beneath the fabric, thick and eager.

“yeah. want you to talk me through it.”

“enzo…” his name bloomed on your tongue with a whiny tinge, barely escaping from between your lips.

but he heard it clearly. he let out a low, throaty groan as a result, his head slightly lolling back on the couch.

“fuck. say it again.”

“what?”

“my name. with that voice…” he breathed, slowly dragging his palm up and down the length of his cock, the fabric now visibly wet at the tip, clinging to his mushroomy tip.

“goddamn, babe. didn’t know you could sound like that when you say it.”

you swallowed hard, thighs pressing together, your own panties now marked by dripping need. he looked beautiful like this — messy hair damp from sweat, chest rising and falling with each breath, mouth parted as he stared at you like he could eat you alive.

“enzo.” you whispered, unsure if you were trying to calm him down or make it worse. “you’re… getting really hard.”

“because of you.” he groaned again, accentuating it with a harsher tug on his cock. “your voice. your fucking voice, babe — talk to me.”

your cheeks flamed, but something in you cracked open; some hungry, curious part of you that liked the way his hips bucked into his hand at the mere sounds of your voice. liked the way his lashes fluttered, how his eyes rolled back.

liked how needy he looked.

“you’re doing so good.” you whispered seductively, barely able to believe the words were coming from your own mouth. “look at you…”

enzo whined, pressing harder against his boxers. fuck, this was really happening!

“look at how hard you are.” you said, braver now, watching his cock twitch under his touch. “shit… all for me?”

“yes, yes, fuck, yes–” he was panting now, jerking himself faster, his head tipped back completely, throat taut. “keep going, please– your voice, i– fuck, i’ve never gotten this hard this fast–”

“you’re gonna make a mess in your boxers…” you tutted, more to yourself, pressing your thighs together — now shamelessly.

“you want me to help? want me to pull them down and stroke you for real?”

enzo whimpered, and this time he shuddered — hips lifting, breath stuttering, a thick wet patch forming all over his cock.

“babe–” he gasped, looking at you like you’d just offered him the most amazing offer in the world. “please. please touch me.”

your palm was hot against his abs before he even finished the sentence.

and when your fingers slid under the waistband of his boxers — slow, sweet, teasing — lorenzo’s breath caught in his throat like you’d just sucked the life out of him.

his cock sprang free, flushed and twitching, curved thick and dripping precum towards his belly.

and fuck, he really was big. more than you imagined. heavy and sticky in your hand when you finally curled your fingers around him.

“fuck, enzo.” you whispered.

he groaned, head tilting to the side to see your hand work around him.

“say that again.” he rasped, eyes glued to your fingers wrapping around his shaft, getting all wet and nasty with his arousal. “say my name. say anything. just… don’t stop.”

you leaned in closer, breath feathering over his cock as you began to stroke him close to your face — slow, gentle pulls from base to tip, gathering the leaking precum with your thumb and swirling it over the flushed tip. he jerked at the touch, hips bucking, one hand gripping the couch for dear life.

“you’re so sensitive…” you murmured, tilting your head, studying him. “does it feel good, enzo?”

“yes– fuck, yes. your hands– god, your hands are so soft!”

you smiled, slow and sly. your other hand joined in, cupping his balls, stroking in rhythm with the other, until he was panting again, hips faltering, lashes fluttering with every twist of your wrist.

“you’re so pretty like this.” you breathed, voice all syrup and sugar, so close to his cock, yet so far away. “flushed and messy. moaning just from my hands.”

enzo bit his lip, the sound that escaped him something halfway between a sob and a growl.

“fuck, keep going– don’t stop– say more–”

you leaned in, lips brushing the muscles of his abdomen, voice like velvet.

“you gonna cum for me, babe? just from my voice and my hands? poor thing, you’re so pent up…”

“holy shit–”

his stomach jumped, his thighs trembled, and his hand suddenly darted for your phone, unlocking it with shaking fingers.

“what are you doing?” you asked, still stroking him, but slower now, more curious than anything.

“picture.” he panted. “fuck– we need to send that creep a real dick pic. one he’ll never forget.”

oh, that’s right. you were supposed to get him hard for a picture…

“you’re gonna send him this?” you laughed, light and breathless, watching as he snapped a photo of your delicate hand wrapped around his flushed cock. “you’re actually so cruel.”

that michael guy will fucking die.

“you’re the one stroking me like this.” he said with a grin, snapping another picture from a lower angle, your other hand on his balls now visible. “and your voice– fuck, your voice is even hotter than your hand.”

you squeezed him, just to make him shut up and focus on you.

he gasped at your ministration, nearly dropping the phone on you.

“enzo.” you whispered against his ear, your thumb brushing under the head. “focus on me, babe. cum for me.”

he did.

with a strangled moan and a whimper of your name, he spilled all over your hand and his stomach, cock twitching in your grip. he finally released the phone somewhere beside him, both hands flying to your hand as he rode it out, chanting your name like a prayer.

“fuck. fuck, babe–” he panted, pulling you in closer, resting his head on your shoulder, still shaking a little. “you’re unreal.”

before either of you could say a word, the notification pinged.

michael had already replied.

lol that’s a stock image :)

enzo stared at the message. blinked. stared again.

and then, very softly, almost in disbelief. “stock image?”

you snorted, and then started to laugh — loud and breathless, your forehead falling against his shoulder as your dirty fingers absently toyed with his still-softening cock, now wet and twitching in your palm.

“enzo.” you gasped between laughs. “he thinks… he thinks that is a stock image?”

“my dick is not a stock image.” he mumbled, borderline offended, his voice cracking with the way you were still feather-dancing across him. “what stock photo site has your hand in it?”

you grinned, turning your head just enough to catch the pink flush blooming on his cheeks.

“you want to prove it to him?” you asked, wickedly sweet, now concocting a plan of your own.

“…how?” enzo glanced at you, heart in his throat, his whole body buzzing with expectation.

you leaned in, lips brushing his jaw. “fuck me. right now. raw. and take a video.”

he froze.

and then–

“w–what?”

“you heard me.” you whispered. “he doesn’t think you’re real? let’s give him something real.”

enzo’s cock twitched again in your hand — just barely — but enough to signal he was hardening again.

“please.” you breathed, nosing at his neck, voice breaking into something soft and whiny. exactly how he likes it. “fuck me, enzo. i need it. want you so bad–”

your voice cracked with desperation, half faux, half real.

“need you inside me. need you to fill me up. make me yours.”

enzo whimpered, eyes rolling back once more, the mere image of you impaled on his cock making his pulse spike. he was still sensitive, still dazed, but you begging like that?

he grabbed your waist, almost clumsily, and guided you into his lap — your soaked panties rubbing against his cock, already stiff beneath you.

“you don’t know what you’re asking for.” he whispered, trembling. “i won’t be able to stop.”

you cupped his face, squishing his cheeks together and making his lips into a pout.  barely touching them, you whispered one final request.

“good. i don’t want you to.”

he didn’t waste another second.

his hands gripped your hips like he owned them — like he always had — and with one swift motion, he pulled your soaked panties aside, guiding his thick cock to your dripping slit. the blunt head bumped your folds, sticky and aching, and your body clenched before he even pushed in.

“hold the phone.” you whispered, breathless, reaching for it where he’d dropped it on the cushion. you tilted it up just as you sank onto him, but he couldn’t comply.

lorenzo groaned, deep and broken. his head slammed back against the couch and his hands tightened, digging into your waist as you slid down his cock — inch by thick inch — stretching, aching.

taking him raw.

“fuck. babe.” his voice cracked. “you feel insane. so fucking wet. you’re dripping down my balls– fuck–”

you whimpered, clutching his shoulders for balance, camera still rolling in your other hand. the way he filled you up was nothing short of divine — so thick and deep. he curved just right, making your pussy clench around him like it was made for him.

you bounced once.

enzo yelled.

hand flew to your ass, spreading you wider, keeping you flush against him as you began to ride — sloppy, wet, desperate. his cock dragged along your walls perfectly, the obscene sound of your arousal filling the space between you, your breaths quick and needy.

the slight flash of the phone still capturing everything.

“y–you’re gonna–” he whined, eyes fluttering as he stared between your bodies. “god, i’m gonna lose my fucking mind.”

you laughed softly against his neck, still bouncing, nails digging into his shoulders as you went deeper and deeper with every move. “yeah? you’ve been imagining this?”

“every night.” he admitted, voice breaking. “every fucking night, since we were teenagers.”

you moaned his name, pleased with his answer, rocking your hips faster. and enzo shuddered, grabbing the base of his cock as you rode him, watching it disappear again and again into your soaked cunt.

“you want proof?” you panted, angling the camera down even more, catching the perfect image of your pussy fluttering around enzo’s cock. for the creep in your dms. “tell him, babe. tell him this is real.”

lorenzo looked at the phone — flushed, panting, eyes nearly wild, watching himself disappear in your greedy tight hole on film.

it was so hot, shit–

“this is my girl. my fucking pussy. you wish you had her voice in your ear while you came. but guess what?”

he wrapped an arm around your back, pulling you down until your forehead flushed against his, hips snapping up hard–

“she’s riding me.”

you moaned when he thrust up again — rough, relentless, so deep you could barely catch your breath. the head of his cock dragged right over that spot that made your thighs shake, your body clenching around him in helpless pulses.

enzo grunted, hips stuttering, the wet slap of your bodies echoing through the apartment.

“you hear that?” he breathed, voice hoarse with awe, sweat beading along his temple as he watched you bounce. “fuck, it’s so loud — that’s your pussy, babe. sucking me in.”

“enzo…” you whimpered, nails clawing at his shoulder. “you’re so deep– too good–”

he angled his hips just right, the tip of his cock nudging your cervix, and your body jerked. your walls clamping down so tight that his eyes fluttered shut and his head dropped back again.

“you’re close, huh?” he rasped. “feels like you’re about to fucking milk me.”

you nodded, frantic, desperate.

“tell me what you want.” he panted, breath shallow, also close to climax. “tell me how you want it.”

your voice broke. you were already trembling.

“inside.” you gasped, not even ashamed now. “please, enzo– want you to cum in me. fill me up. make it messy.”

he growled like an animal, finally catching his prey.

“fuck– fuck, babe” he slammed up into you so hard you saw stars, one hand clutching at your ass, the other gripping your hip so tight it would bruise. “say that again. say it.”

you pulled the phone back up, aiming the camera down at where you were connected once more — where his cock was glistening, coated in you, buried all the way to the hilt.

“i want your cum.” you whispered close to your phone, with eyes locked on his own blown-out orbs. “deep inside me. i want you to ruin me, enzo.”

his hips jerked. a broken moan punched out of him.

“you’re so– fuck, you’re gonna make me–”

“do it.” you moaned, hand scratching down his chest and leaving marks all over his skin. “fill me up, babe. i want it all.”

he came with a cry — full-body shudder, cock twitching inside you as he emptied himself in thick, hot spurts. you felt the heat of it coat your insides, your cunt fluttering around him in aftershock. he clung to you like he’d fall apart if he didn’t, hips still rutting weakly, desperate to stay inside you, to push it all in deeper.

you collapsed against his chest, both of you panting, his cock still sheathed inside you — warm and twitching and still dripping cum.

the camera caught it all.

his fingers found the curve of your thighs, spreading you slightly, just enough to let the phone capture your folds stretched wide around him, cum already beginning to leak.

“damn right.” he muttered, flushed and breathless, voice hoarse with pride. “real enough for you now, michael?”

michael wasn’t gonna sleep tonight.

©dearmisshoney 2025. do not copy, translate, or claim any of my writings or works as your own.

No matter how hard Regulus tried, you refused to leave his orbit. You had no business affiliating with him and his friends, and had no idea what that affiliation truly meant. It meant darkness. It meant bloodshed. It met imminent and very real danger. A war was brewing right under your nose.

Regulus had been born and bred for this, as had most of his friends, but you…you were an innocent. Intelligent, witty, trusting. As much as he tried not to care, he couldn’t stand to watch your light be snuffed out for simply existing around them: metaphorically or literally.

But no matter how many times Regulus tried to run you off, spare you from what came next, you would not heed. In fact, you seemed to take his animosity as a challenge, leaving him in the predicament of being your unwitting adversary.

You were in the Slytherin common room now, curled up by the fireplace with Pandora, Evan, Barty and a few others, doing more gossiping than studying despite the piles of books and parchment on the floor around you. The greenish light of the lake contrasted with the glow of the fire against your face, creating an otherworldly halo around you.

You hair was pulled back, revealing the slender curve of your neck, the dip in your v-neck sweater where a silver pendant rested against your clavicle.

You laughed at whatever terrible joke Barty made and Regulus rolled his eyes, turning back to the spell book in his lap. He was studying alone, having told Evan a number of times to fuck off and let him work on his assignments in peace.

“Regulus!” Emma called suddenly, and he cringed, pretending he didn't hear his Quidditch captain. “Reg!” She called again.

He closed his eyes, willing them all to disappear.

“Regulus fucking Black!” She hollered, loud enough for the whole common room to fall silent.

He clapped his book shut and stalked over to where you all were sitting, one hand in his trouser pocket, the other clamped on his book.

“Yes?” He droned, leaning against the arm chair Emma was sitting in.

“Can you help me with this?” Emma asked, holding up her Defense Against the Dark Arts homework.

Annoyance prickled along his skin. “What good is a genius pet if she doesn't help with your work?” He asked, leveling you with his coldest stare.

You tilted your head, eyes flicking from his black, curly hair to his leather shoes, and didn't respond.

“She said she wouldn't help me,” Emma pouted.

“I said I wouldn't do it for you,” you corrected.

“Barty, then?”

“No can do, Reg,” Barty responded, coughing up a lungful of pungent smoke, waggling a joint in Regulus’ direction.

Emma waved the smoke from her face. “Will you help, Reg? I have to get a good grade in the class or I could lose my spot on the team. And you know these lot are useless at spells.”

He sighed and took the assignment from her hands, flipping through the pages. It was rudimentary work, things she really should know in order to defend herself.

“Can't help you,” Regulus said, handing it back to her. “If you can't do this, maybe you should be demoted.”

The group ooooh’d at his dig.

“Reg!” Emma whined.

“Ignore him, Em. Not everyone takes to dark magic as easily as the ancient and most bitchy house of Black,” you quipped, narrowing your eyes at him.

Regulus resisted the urge to clench his jaw, feigning the nonchalance you wore like a second skin. The group swiveled to look at him.

“All magic, really. But thank you, darling,” he purred, winking at you.

“You should have seen Sirius in advanced Transfiguration last semester, he's a natural. Truly a gifted wizard,” you continued.

“Hot as fuck, too,” Evan added, just to dig the knife in a little deeper.

Regulus’ blood began to simmer, his temperature rising beneath his dark robes. He tsked under his breath, shaking his head. “I thought you'd be smart enough to not fall for his clown act.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Evidently not.”

“I wouldn't touch a Black with a twenty foot pole,” you replied, leaning back on your hands, stretching your long legs out in front of you, your skirt sitting high on your thighs.

“Who said anything about a pole?” Regulus replied, mimicking your condescending head tilt.

The group snickered, watching your verbal sparring like it was a duel.

“You sound a bit jealous, Reggie. Need a little attention?”

Reggie. His mask nearly slipped, he was so caught off guard by the nickname on your sharp tongue. “May as well, since you give it out so freely.” He glanced down at your shapely legs, punctuating his point.

Your head fell back as you laughed, your chest pressing up and tits bouncing, and he felt an irritating kick in his trouser as the heat of his anger took a new, sinful shape.

“It's the 70’s, love. Are you still so prudish?” You lifted your head, pining him with eyes fierce enough to cleave him in half.

He smirked. “Far from it. Just selective.”

“Don't see much of a selection to chose from,” you chuckled, earning another spike of laughter from the group. “What I see is a spoiled youngest son with nothing better to do than needle the people around him to fill the hole in his chest.” You got to your feet, shouldering your bag.

Regulus felt like he'd been punched clean through the sternum, your words never failing to cut to the quik.

“Spoken by a girl with nothing better to do than fish for a rich husband that might save her from her home in the gutter. Trust me, nothing can fill the hole of inadequacy, y/l/n.”

You stepped over Evan and Barty's tangled limbs and left without another word, leaving Regulus’ cruelty to echo off the glass and stone, the group silent.

Regulus turned on his heel and disappeared into the boys dormitory, guilt dogging every step.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The Quidditch match was in full swing, Gryffindor versus Slytherin, and the score was neck and neck. It was up to Regulus and the Gryffindor Seeker now, since neither team could get a leg up through the rings.

You sat in the stands sipping hot chocolate with Marlene, Pandora, and Dorcas, Barty pouting to your left because he couldn't sit with Evan in the Slytherin stands.

Regulus hovered a few meters away, his eyes trained upwards, catching every falling leaf and ripple of air around him. You hated how handsome he looked in his Quidditch robes, his lean body relaxed on the broom despite the stakes.

That was Regulus, un-fucking-shakeable. And it drove you insane that you could never get a rise out of him, but he managed to needle one out of you time and time again.

He was as relentless as a northern wind, and you couldn't help but be swept away.

His dark curls framed his angular face, those perpetually sleepy eyes the most arresting green. Sure, everyone thought Sirius was hot, but Regulus was beautiful, ethereal almost, and he wrapped around your mind like a constrictor.

You watched as the other Seeker suddenly took off above the Hufflepuff stands, in pursuit of something, and the Gryffindor stands cheered. But Regulus remained motionless, watching his opponent like a cat trailing a mouse. Even as Slytherin urged him to take up the chase, he remained unmoved, bidding his time.

His bottomless patience would be awe-inspiring if it wasn't so damn frustrating.

You wouldn't have an issue with Regulus, maybe even could have been friends with him, if he hadn't taken issue with you first. You had no idea what his fucking problem was, whether it was because your family was poor, you had better grades than him, or what. He loathed you from the moment you showed up in the Slytherin common room, and you've yet to receive an explanation.

You'd been saddled with a one-sided rivalry, but you'd be damned if you let him defeat you now after a full semester of back and forth.

The other Seeker pulled up short, whipping his head around like he'd lost something, and you saw Regulus crack a smirk, his canines white and sharp.

Regulus turned his head suddenly, quick like a bird, and then he was off in a blur of motion. His opponent was all the way across the pitch, entirely too far to get there in time.

A moment later— “Regulus Black has caught the snitch for 150 points! Slytherin wins!”

The Slytherin stands erupted with cheers while every other house booed, including your own. But you knew a Slytherin victory meant a rager in the dungeons, so you kept your lips sealed.

Instead, you watched Regulus land at the center of the pitch, the golden snitch held lazily between his pointer finger and thumb above his head. Any other Seeker would have been parading around the field, or flying in wide circles over the stands, screaming their head off, but Regulus was silent. His victory spoke for him.

Although, you knew he'd still be smug as fuck later.

As soon as the stands began to drain, you, Pandora, and Barty caught up with the rest of your Slytherin friends, all of them buzzing about the victory, even melancholic Severus. By the time you all reached the dungeons, a party was already in full swing.

Music thrummed along the walls, so loud it caused ripples in the Black Lake, making the emerald-tinged moonlight shift and dance along the floor. You happily accepted a shot of gin, then another before letting Evan cajole you out onto the dance floor.

Sweat pooled along your spine as the music wore on, your hair wild and loose down your back as you danced, electric energy flowing through you.

A cheer came up from the entrance and everyone turned towards the commotion. The Slytherin Quidditch team strode into the room, black robes billowing behind them. Regulus stood at the front, of course. Even from several meters away, you could see the confident glimmer in his eyes, the arrogant tilt of his chiseled jaw.

Fucking Black’s.

Like a magnet, his eyes found yours across the room, and you nearly tripped over Evan’s feet at the venom they held. But he looked away as quickly as he found you, getting swept up by the crowd and disappearing from your line of sight.

You tracked down another shot and rejoined Evan and Barty on the dance floor, squished between them in a tangle of limbs. Impossible to tell who’s hands were where, just a mess of sensation and touch. The temperature in the common room was rising expontentially, so you shed your sweater, leaving you in your skirt and a white camisole, sweat making the fabric cling to your skin.

A few songs passed like that, and a blonde guy you barely know, Rowle, you thought, took your friends place when they tapped out to smoke. You rolled your body against his, enjoying the way his thick muscles felt beneath his robes, the hungry way he was staring down at you. But you were about ready to take a break yourself, the musky smell of weed calling your name from across the room, when the hair on the back of your neck suddenly rose.

You looked around, searching for the source of your bodies response, when you locked eyes, once again, with Regulus.

He was sitting in a circle of couches against the glass wall with your shared friends, a halo of smoke around his head, a girl perched on his lap, sucking at his neck while he took a drag off of a cigarette. But his eyes were glued to you, tracking every movement you made with the same intensity he tracked the golden snitch.

Confidence wafted through you, and you wrapped your arms around your dance partners neck, letting him dip you so low your hair pooled on the floor, your tits nearly falling out of your shirt. You rolled back up slowly, articulating every vertebrae in your spine until you were chest to chest with your partner, sharing the same breaths.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Regulus choke on the smoke, dislodging the girl from his skin, and you smirked.

You let your partner turn you, showing every angle of your body, and you dropped low, circling your hips in time with the resinous goth song as you rose back up.

Regulus' cigarette hung limp between his fingers, his perfect jaw a little slack.

Emboldened, you broke away from your partner, letting yourself get lost in the sensuous, thrumming beat. Your arms rose above your head, your shoulders and hips swaying in time. It felt like you were hypnotizing him, his eyes glued to every undulation of your hips, and you couldn't recall a time where you felt more alive.

Too soon, though, the music changed to a more electro-pop vibe, and you slipped reluctantly off the dance floor, the taste of smoke beckoning you across the room.

You sauntered over to the circle, pointedly ignoring Regulus as you approached.

“There she is,” Even cooed, extending an arm to you. “You looked amazing out there.”

You smiled, sliding into his lap and taking a drag from the joint between his fingers. “Thank you, lovely.” You smiled sweetly up at him, and you could have sworn he started drooling.

“Feels even better,” Barty teased, sprawled out on the couch beside Evan, clearly a little too inebriated already.

You winked at him, and he flushed a deep scarlet. Pandora, who was resting on the floor between Dorcas’ legs, chuckled at his expense.

Regulus was quiet, per usual, watching as the group chattered around him, turning the golden snitch he caught over and over in his long fingers.

The smoke made your mind a little hazy, your tired muscles from dancing going loose, and you sagged into Evan’s side, leaning your head on his shoulder.

Regulus’ fingers tightened on the snitch, his jaw feathering, and your stomach swooped with nervous excitement. You’d never been able to rattle him before. Had you finally knocked the monolithic Regulus Black off of his axis?

“Reg, why so quiet?” Evan asked, nudging his leg with his boot.

Regulus raised a brow. “What would you like to talk about, Rosier? Fucking Junior? Or eye-fucking y/l/n?”

“We can talk about eye-fucking y/n.” Evan winked down at you, and you rolled your eyes. Avery barked a laugh from his spot on the other side of Regulus.

“Yes, let's,” Barty added, raking his willowly fingers through your hair draped over Evan’s arm. You hummed under the attention, knowing it was all in good, hedonistic Slytherin fun.

Well, almost all in good fun.

As always, Regulus couldn't let your ego inflate too much. “It's hard not indulge in a little novelty, no matter how ineffectual.”

Ouch. His words landed like barbs on your skin, but you ignored him, leaning into Barty’s attention with light moan.

Regulus shifted a little in his seat, his hands falling over his lap, and you nearly smiled. Regulus may act all high and mighty, but he wasn't impervious.

“Look at you,” Even purred, blowing smoke over your heated skin, your decolletage exposed as you stretched towards Barty. “Prettiest girl at Hogwarts, stretched across my lap.” You flushed, squirming a little in his lap, and Evan groaned. “You're torturing me, baby.”

Barty tugged on your hair, sending a skitter of pleasure down your spine and craning your head back even further. “Oh, keep doing that. He loves being tortured.”

“What a good girl,” Regulus hummed, and your pussy throbbed, soaking through your underwear. It was a rush, being admired by the heirs of some of the most powerful families in the magical world. But hearing those sweet words from Regulus, twisted into degradation, did sick things to your mind. “She's on track to graduate with her perfect, filthy-rich husband, and spend the rest of her days as mindless, fertile eye candy.”

You flinched, not that the boys noticed, and sat up a little, suddenly self-conscious in your barely-there shirt.

“We volunteer,” Avery and Wilkes said at the same time.

Evan’s arm tightened around you. “You'll have to pry her from my cold, dead hands,” he replied.

Claustrophobia clawed at your throat, but you couldn't let Regulus know how thoroughly he'd flipped your night upside down.

Wilkes drew their wand, pointing it at Evan’s head. “That can be arranged.”

“A no-name isn't worth it, children,” Regulus sneered. “Save your Azkaban trips for nobler pursuits than cunt.”

That's it. You swung your legs to the ground and rose, stalking towards Regulus. The group whistled and hooted, excited by the oncoming storm of drama.

You climbed into Regulus’ lap, straddling him and stealing the golden snitch from his hands. He was warm and solid beneath you, his expensive, amber cologne swirling with the smoke to create an addicting combination.

His hands immediately fell to your bare thighs, the cold of his rings biting into your heated flesh. His green eyes darkened, lids growing heavy as he looked up at you, his ebony lashes casting delicate shadows over his cheeks.

“Regulus Black,” you murmured in his ear while loosening his tie. His hands tensing on your thighs for a split second before he relaxed them. “You will never find someone that can withstand your thorns the way I do.”

He loosed a breath, chin lifting a little closer to your face like a wilted rose tilting towards the sun.

“You will never scare me off.” You brushed your nose along his temple, feeling his heart rate increase, his breath turn shallow. “I will ruin you, and you will thank me for it.”

Before he could respond, you slipped away, taking his prize snitch with you all the way to Ravenclaw Tower. Unreachable, even for the boy that had everything.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Regulus turned your words over and over in his mind, an endless, torturous loop. The others seemed obvious to his torment, prattling on and on while he burned through cigarette after cigarette, his tongue raw and throat scratchy.

Nothing would numb the ache on his chest, the pulsing strain of his cock beneath his robes. He'd already been painfully hard watching you move, watching you stretch across Evan and Barty like a contented kitten, preening under their devoted attention.

But when you climbed into his lap…fuck.

He was a heartbeat away from coming in his pants. One roll of your hips and he would have been done for, and you had no idea.

Or, maybe you did.

I will ruin you.

It was a miracle that you'd climbed off of him and stormed away, because the only thought he could formulate was please.

Eventually, he couldn't fucking take it anymore. He didn't even say goodnight to his friends, just disappeared into the dormitory and locked the door behind him.

He shirked his robe and grabbed a spare Slytherin scarf from his drawer. He flopped onto his bed and freed his aching cock, the head and angry red and shiny. He wrapped the scarf around it, squeezing hard for a semblance of relief.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned, pumping his cock slowly as your voice filled his mind again, the feeling of your weight on top of him, your sweet breath on his neck, your perfume rewiring the synopsis in his brain.

His hand started to move quicker, breath coming out in desperate pants. He imagined licking across your dewy chest, tasting the salt on your skin, gin on your tongue. Blowing his cigarette smoke over your naked body, into your open mouth. So eager and flayed open for him to ravage—his innocent lamb to ruin.

“Fuck, y/n!” Your name wrenched itself from his throat as he came hard into his scarf, imaging it was deep inside your greedy cunt. His whole body shuddered with the force of it, his jaw hanging open as he pumped himself through the orgasm until he'd milked every drop from himself, wondering if your pussy, your mouth, would do the same.

He slumped back onto the pillows, completely exhausted, and shoved the scarf under his bed.

You were right, you would fucking ruin him, ruin his plans. And he wasn't sure if he hated or loved you for it.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Regulus avoided you for two weeks after that party, going so far as to skip your shared Potions class entirely. It was for the better really, you still felt a little raw after that night, the dull ache of his words combined with the unresolved arousal has left you out of sorts, to put it mildly.

If you ran into him, you weren’t sure if you’d throttle or fuck him to death.

Your friends were beginning to grow suspicious of his absence, and your squirrely behavior, and, unbeknownst to you, they set a trap to bring this stand-off to a finish once and for all.

Pandora chatted animatedly beside you as you walked together down the stairs to the dungeon, ranting about something Aurora did to piss her off. When you arrived to the dungeon, she suddenly paused to tie her shoelace, waving for you to go on ahead of her into the common room.

You did, and the large green door swung shut behind you.

“No! Fuck, Dora!” Regulus was right there, banging his fist on the door.

You looked around, bewildered, only to find the common room completely deserted. Except for Regulus, of course.

“Move,” you hissed, withdrawing your wand.

“I tried everything,” Regulus huffed, a hand raking through his dark hair.

“I said move,” you repeated, pointing your wand at him.

He rolled his eyes and stepped aside, walking back into the common room. He dropped onto the couch by the fireplace, retrieving his book.

You threw every spell you could think of at the door, but it simply wouldn’t budge. “What the fuck!” You shouted, nearly throwing your wand across the room out of frustration.

“They left us a note,” Regulus said, not looking up from his reading.

You stalked over to him, finding an open piece of parchment on the coffee table. Immediately, you recognized Pandora’s loping hand.

“Just bone already.” You read aloud, and scoffed. “What the fuck does that mean?” You glared at Regulus, as if he was somehow responsible, but he still didn’t look up.

“I suspect they’re tired of our bickering,” he replied, turning the page.

“And what does locking us in the dungeon together accomplish?” You couldn’t believe this was happening. Couldn’t believe they’d lock you in a dungeon with your fucking nemesis. Your school yard bully. The bane of your goddamn existence.

Regulus shrugged. “Maybe they think you’ll kill me.”

You let out an exasperated sound and stormed away from him, trying the door to the girls dormitory.

“Locked,” he called a millisecond after you tried the handle.

“Maybe I am going to fucking kill him,” you muttered to yourself. Resigned, you sat on a chair by the glass wall, as far away from him as you could possibly get, and sulked.

You had no clue how much time passed, the only light filtering in through the murky lake. The cold leeched through the glass, chilling you to the bone, but you refused to move closer to him. You’d freeze to death in here if you had to.

“Y/l/n,” Regulus said after the fifth full body chill wracked through you. “Come sit by the fire.”

“Go fuck yourself,” you bit back, and he snorted.

“Fine, freeze.” He returned to his book, not sparing you another glance.

Your hands started to ache from the cold, your jaw sore from your teeth chattering together. With a sigh, you got up and crossed the room. Regulus still didn’t look up, though you could feel his attention shift to you as you sat directly in front of the fire, holding your hands out to it.

“You really think they’ll leave us in here all night?” You asked, staring at the dancing flames.

“Absolutely,” Regulus answered, lowering his book to his lap.

You sighed, resigned. The only way out is through. “I’ll start.”

He tilted his head, dark brows drawing together in suspicion.

You cursed under your breath, and dove headfirst. “I don’t understand why you’re so shitty to me,” you blurted, refusing to look at him. “I’ve never done anything to you.”

He was quiet for so long, you finally caved and glanced over at him, only to find him staring back at you, expression unreadable.

“Regulus,” you huffed, frustrated.

“Y/n,” he mocked, and your stomach flipped despite his attitude. He’d never used your first name before.

“Just fucking talk to me.” You straightened your spine, folding your legs on the ground underneath you, the fire at your side.

He stared at you for a few more moments, his eyes dancing back and forth, before he leaned back against the couch and picked up his book.

“You’re a lot of things, Black, but I didn’t take you for a coward.”

His eyes flickered with anger, but he didn’t bite.

“Reg,” you murmured, softening your voice, and he rolled his eyes, the most unbelievably bored expression on his face. You shifted your weight, placing your hands on the ground, and lifted to your knees. Slowly, you began to crawl to him, being careful to not sway your hips too much, and he broke after only a few seconds.

“On your knees already, darling?” He teased, but the casual tone didn’t match his eyes. The fire in them, the way his hands tightened around the cover of his book, betrayed his true feelings.

Once you were directly in front on him, you sat back on your heels. “Be honest with me, Reggie, did it turn you on seeing me with Evan and Barty?”

He blinked, clearly taken aback by your question. In his lap, you saw his cock twitch, a small pulse along his right thigh.

Men are so fucking easy.

“What about when I was dancing with them? Sandwiched between their bodies?” You rolled your head on your shoulders, mimicking the way you danced and revealing the fragile plains of your throat, your hair falling around your face. “When Barty pulled my hair? When Evan blew smoke over my tits?”

Regulus swallowed hard, his eyes like melted jade.

“What about when I crawled into your lap?” You took the book from him and set it onto the table. Then, you placed your hands on his lean, muscular thighs and pushed yourself to your feet, straddling him the same way you did that night. His entire body was rigid beneath you, muscles coiled tight with tension. “Did you like when I whispered in your ear, Regulus? When I told you that I’d ruin you?”

“Y/n,” he rasped, breathing hard.

“Tell me the truth.” You were so close, your lips brushed the shell of his ear as you spoke. You committed to the contact, brushing your lips along his racing pulse, down his jugular vein. You fought to keep your thighs from clenching together, your own body responding to the feeling him slowly unraveling beneath you. “Do you hate me because you want me?”

“I don't,” he hissed through his teeth.

“If you say so,” you hummed, moving to slide off his lap.

He grabbed your waist, his grip bruising. “Don't you fucking dare."

“I thought you didn't want me?” You taunted, sitting back on his lap to look at him, a hand braced on his sternum.

When you shifted your weight, your pussy accidentally pressed against the hard outline of his cock. You had to force your hips to stay still, your pussy practically begging you to move when you felt him throb against your warm heat.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said. All the malice had drained from his voice, his eyes locked on yours.

Then what the fuck did he mean?

You rolled your hips, biting back the moan that crept up your throat as pleasure snaked through you. Regulus was less successful, a broken groan falling from his pretty mouth.

“It would be so much easier to just tell me the truth,” you purred, slowly rocking your hips over his twitching length, allowing a hint of breathlessness to bleed into your voice. “It would feel so good, Reg, to let it all go. To lose control.”

“Shit,” he crushed under his breath. “What the fuck are you doing to me?” He grated, sliding his hands down to feel your thighs flex with each movement, his fingertips dimpling your flesh.

“What did you mean by ‘I don’t’?” You asked, tilting his chin up with a finger.

His jaw went a little slack as he stared up at you, his eyes heavy-lidded and shining. “I don’t hate you,” he answered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Then why do you say such awful things?” You stopped your movements, and he made a small noise in his throat, nearly a whimper, but didn’t answer. “Regulus,” you prodded, lifting yourself from him entirely.

“N-no, please, fuck y/n,” he stammered, lifting his hips to grind against you. Another moan threatened to spill from you, his body felt so fucking good against yours, but you managed to restrain yourself. “I did it to try and push you away, I—”

You lowered back onto him, your hips grinding in tandem, and his head fell back against the couch, releasing a throaty groan. You couldn’t hold back a small squeak of pleasure when the hard head of his cock grazed your clit just right, and a wave of pleasure crashed through you.

“Why did you want to push me away?” You started undoing the buttons of his dress shirt, revealing the pale expanse of his chest, lean muscles flexing as he thrusted up against you.

He shook his head, picking it up to look down at where your bodies met, a pool of your slick dampening his trousers. “Getting me all wet, lamb. You like toying with me?” he rasped, moving one of his hands to press a thumb against your clothed clit, his long fingers splayed across your pelvis. “Is that why I couldn’t scare you off?”

You nodded before you could stop yourself, a full moan finally breaking free with the added pressure. You were embarrassingly close to coming, to banter combined with the friction between your bodies was a lethal cocktail, a drug you weren’t sure you’d be able to quit.

You wrapped your hands around his throat, applying enough pressure that he gasped, the sound vibrating your hand. “Why are you trying to push me away?” You leaned closer to his face, his strained pants fanning across your lips. He was so beautiful like this, ravaged by lust and desperate.

“You know why,” he growled, grabbing your wrists. He rolled suddenly, flipping you beneath him and pinning your hands above your head. “What’s my name, y/n?” His free hand slid under your skirt, palming your soaked panties.

“Regulus,” you gasped, arching into his chest.

“Regulus what?” He started rubbing the heel of his palm over your clit, electric pleasure burning through you.

“Regulus Black.” You were on the brink of coming, teetering on that torturous edge.

“Tell me then, my clever little Ravenclaw. What does that say about me and mine?” He leaned down and dragged his teeth along your pulse point, pausing to suck a mark under your ear.

“Fuck, Reg, I’m going to come,” you whined, fighting against his hold as the feeling started to overwhelm you.

His hand stopped suddenly, ruining the orgasm you had just begun to crest. You cried out in frustration, tears springing to your eyes as the pleasure bled out of you, leaving you desperate and humming with tension.

“Answer me,” he demanded, grabbing your jaw with his slick covered hand.

“I’m not an idiot,” you snapped, eyes blazing into his. “I know what the fuck it means. And I don’t care.”

He fell still, eyes searching your face. “Then maybe you are an idiot,” he murmured, eyes softening now that the truth was finally out. “But so am I.”

He closed the final inch between you, connecting your lips in a searing, devastating kiss that you felt all the way to your toes. He released your hands and you tangled your fingers into his curls, finally feeling their softness for yourself as you pulled him closer. Your mouth parted for him, his tongue delving in to taste you.

“Reg, please,” you whined against his mouth, pressing your hips to his again.

“Tell me what you want, lamb.” He kissed down your neck, one of his hands sliding down to grip your thigh and draw it over his hip.

“Fuck me, I need you inside of me.” You clawed at his belt, flipping the clasp and tugging down his zipper.

“Merlin, yes.” He finished undoing his pants and freed his cock, pulling aside your panties to glide the head through your slick folds, lubricating himself. He notched the head at your entrance, hissing at the warmth already kissing him, and eased himself in.

Regulus wasn’t overly large, but the stretch was still divine, filling you until you went cross-eyed, an unholy cry ripping from your chest. He drew his hips back and slammed back into you, over and over again until your were in shambles, a moaning, shaking mess, on the precipice of coming for the second time.

“Come for me, love. I want to feel you break.” He cupped your face, kissing you as he finally pushed you over the edge, an orgasm ripping you apart at the seams. You screamed into his mouth, your cunt clenching around him as your body convulsed. “God, I love this fucking cunt. So perfect for me,” he growled, his hips losing their rhythm as your walls bared down on him, sucking him back in every time he pulled out.

“Reg,” you whimpered, sagging against the couch as the strength bled out of of you.

He pulled out suddenly, pumping his cock in his fist, your honey coating him. “Stay just like that, pretty girl. All fucked out and used. All mine—” a guttural groan broke the final word as he came in his hand, spraying ropes of cum over your rumpled skirt and Ravenclaw sweater, his head thrown back. He looked gorgeous milking himself for you, his muscles flexing with the effort, sweat beading along his skin.

He slowly relaxed, chest heaving, and looked down at you, ruined and covered in his cum. You stared back, completely starstruck by what just happened.

“I’m sorry,” he said, draping himself over you and pressing ksises to your forehead, your cheeks, your neck. “I’m sorry for everything I said. I didn’t mean any of it, I—”

“Me too,” you interrupted him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I know how hard things are for you, at home, I mean, and I shouldn’t have—”

“No, no. I deserved it. I shouldn’t have brought up your family—”

“But I kept—”

“I never meant too—”

You both exhaled, laughing softly at your rushed confessions, the sudden, giddy nervousness that bloomed between you where there once was glacial wit and razor-sharp banter. He sat you both up, removing your stained sweater and straightening your skirt, then righted himself.

“What now?” You asked when he finished fussing, studying his flushed cheeks, his tousled hair.

He sighed, suddenly looking grim, and your heart gave a nervous thump. “We find a way to keep you safe, lamb,” he said, meeting your eyes. “Okay?"

"Okay."

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Thanks for reading!

It wasn’t as though you had something worth sharing anyway—your private life was, well, private, and besides a few dating rumours over the years which you couldn’t confirm nor feed into, nothing worth mentioning came to mind.

Quite literally. Nothing.

All these years, you’d been overly preoccupied with school and internships, mostly giving yourself barely enough free time to breathe—and even then, you sheltered yourself from parties and peers, drowned yourself in books instead. No Potions or Transfiguration texts then, but rather novels you borrowed from the tiny, cramped bookstore in Hogsmeade.

For you, they were an escape from reality—from day-to-day expectations, from the noise drowning in during late-night common room parties.

A fictional reality where you got to experience what you weren’t sure you’d ever get to feel in person.

Love.

A huge part of it, you believed, was your own fault. There had definitely been a good number of people interested in you—more than just interested, your friends suggested—though, you never reciprocated any of it.

Not the letters, not the gestures, smiles, gifts…

As a prefect and now Head Girl, you had certain responsibilities. A reputation to uphold.

You had built respect around your name—and you wouldn’t let something as simple as a failed relationship invalidate your hard-earned achievements.

Especially when your fiercest competitor went by the name Tom Riddle, and neither involved himself in any things of that sort. As long as that stood true, you had no interest in straying from the path you’d set yourself.

The only gatherings you never seemed to be able to excuse yourself from were the annual House parties. Each House had their own, on separate dates. 

And this time, you’d broken the one rule you’d kept safe all this time.

Your friends had left the day prior for their exchange trip to France—not around to save you from the inevitable.

Two or three too many drinks, and you let yourself be dragged in the midst of a circle where students had gathered to play a game similar to truth or dare—with an additional third category added.

Confession.

The worst part: you didn’t even get to choose, but the other players picked it for you. 

So, either truth, dare, confess, or drink.

The fourth option saved you in the first few rounds, but by the fifth, with heightened confidence, you suddenly no longer felt intimidated by their questions.

A confession seemed easy. Too easy. You could come up with almost anything—a lie even—or something as simple as you cheated on an exam in second grade. Would they be satisfied with that answer? Most likely not, but your debt would have been paid either way.

It’d have been fine, you could’ve stopped playing and left the party after.

Still, with the general direction of the truths and dares given beforehand, your mind, spinning and fuzzy, skipped right past that simple option, and the words left your lips too quickly for what was left of your sanity to intervene.

“I have never had an orgasm before.”

Deafening silence.

Your heartbeat drummed in your ears, and you attempted to swallow the lump that had formed in your throat—without success.

Wide eyes stared right at you, and the sheer embarrassment of what you’d just admitted sobered you up faster than the Potions your friends had given you in the past ever could.

The air around you nearly suffocated you when you scrambled to your feet, snatching your purse from where you’d left it, the overwhelmingly loud noise in your ears drowning out the calls for you to stay and continue playing.

Either way, you couldn’t have.

Hell, not even your closest friends knew this about you—and now, more than twenty strangers from different years and Houses had heard you speak it out. You—the good, responsible student who never did anything other than studying or reading—just ruined your treasured reputation with one single sentence.

It would spread like wildfire, and by Monday, it’d have reached every last corner of this damn castle.

Your cheeks burned hot with embarrassment and perhaps also one or the other tear as you stumbled your way through the packed common room, eyes fixed on the floor, not daring to lift your gaze until you made it to the corridor.

As you did, fists clenched tight at either side of your hips, heels furiously clicking on the stone floor, you felt it—the unmistakable sensation of someone watching you leave.

You whipped your head around, infuriated someone tried to follow you—though you instantly regretted that choice.

Leaning against the entrance he stood, observing you. The playful smirk he wore did not smooth into his usually unbothered expression, not even as he slowly lifted a glass of what you assumed to be Firewhiskey to his lips and took a sip.

Tom Riddle had heard your unfortunate confession.

The gears in his awfully brilliant mind were most likely already turning to find a way to use this information against you.

Fuck.

—

The silk of your nightgown you’d slipped into moments ago still lay cool against your skin as you settled beneath the covers on your bed, reaching for the book you’d left abandoned on your nightstand the morning prior when a knock on your door startled you, your attention shifting to the source of the sound.

A quick glance at the clock made your brows furrow.

It was 22:00 on a Thursday.

Curfew had begun an hour earlier, and before a single muscle in your body dared respond to the natural urge to open the door for your unannounced visitor, your mind sped through all the possibilities as to who may be requiring you this late.

One of your friends, you thought at first, and almost settled with that explanation—until you remembered that no, most of them were still on their trip to Beauxbatons and not around to entertain you.

It had to be a professor, you were sure of it—and before your brain could come up with terrible scenarios as to why they’d want to speak to you at this late hour, you hastily tugged the duvet aside, practically jumping out of bed when another knock came rattling against your door.

Barely a few centimetres open, your reflexes almost worked faster than your mind, attempting to slam it shut again—but a foot had wedged itself in between the gap in the meantime, preventing it from closing.

The strict, deep brown eyes that had met you when you first opened the door could only belong to one person.

The last person you wished to speak to of all people in this entire castle.

Tom managed to push the door back far enough for him to slip inside, not sparing you more than a short look. He strode into your dorm as though he owned the place, posture straight and collected as always, his expression unreadable.

With a slight hint of amusement, perhaps.

If he was here just to remind you of what happened a few days ago, you would hex him. Hell, perhaps your aversion to the dark arts wasn’t as serious as you thought it to—

“You know what they’re saying about you?” Tom broke the silence first, not bothering to turn and look at you. His hands rested in his pockets, observing a group of magpies and ravens as they glided past the window of your single dorm.

Your hands crossed over your chest, taking a step forwards. “Riddle, leave.”

“The Head Girl can’t even make herself come,” he continued, not listening to your plea, which you’d attempted to wrap in the venom of a threat.

The insult you’d prepared died on your tongue the second the weight of his words hit you, and for a few awfully long seconds, you just stood there, not able to muster up a witty comeback.

There was none.

He was right.

And he was well aware of it, too.

When no reply came, Tom huffed, shaking his head before he finally turned to look at you.

His gaze wandered over your body, but there was nothing left of the usual disdain in the way he looked at you—it was different. The flame alight beneath the dark brown of his eyes was not fuelled by hatred, and the realisation made your skin crawl.

Tom drank you in like a lion its prey.

Only then did you realise how little you were wearing, how much skin showed that was usually hidden beneath your school robes.

His wandering eyes slowed as they reached your cleavage, the thin silk fabric of your nightgown doing nothing to conceal the stiff peaks of your breasts.

Tom made a low sound of approval when your thighs clenched together as his eyes descended further, and he took a step towards you—which you reciprocated with a big step backwards.

“Some sounded almost concerned, you know,” Tom said thoughtfully, inching closer, slowly.

“And, as a Head Boy and prefect, it is my duty to listen to their worries—I presume you are aware of that, though.”

“Riddle,” you said warningly, and the next step backwards had your breath catch in your throat—he’d backed you against the long edge of your bed.

“Is it true?” He asked, standing still for a moment.

You scoffed, turning your head to the side.

Avoiding the question.

“Never?” He insisted, eyebrows drawn together. Again, he did not receive an answer.

“Fuck.”

Tom closed the distance without sparing it another thought, shoving the voice telling him that this may be a bad idea to the back of his head.

Ever since he heard your little secret, he’d been determined.

Determined to change it.

He was standing right before you when his index finger trailed along the dainty, golden chain decorating your neck, adjusting your pendant so it pointed to where his eyes were glued moments ago.

“Let me help you,” he murmured, letting his hand slip to your shoulder, playing with the strap of your nightwear. “Please.”

Please?

“I don’t know if that’s a—“ you started, sighing a breath when he eased the slightly elastic fabric down your arm. “—good idea.”

“Mmh,” Tom crooned, his head dipping to brush his lips along your collarbone. “Let’s worry about that later.”

His other hand eased the second strap off your shoulder, and a moment later, the silk slipped down the length of your body, revealing you to him.

The hand you lifted to shield yourself from his scorching hot gaze was quickly tucked to your back, and he used the chance to press a kiss right below your jaw, making you exhale a shaky breath.

What the fuck was he doing to you? And why on earth were you allowing it?

Questions you would, as he said, ask yourself later.

For now, the heat that had built in the deepest pits of your abdomen seemed to consume you whole, and your free hand impatiently tugged on his robes, which he stripped off with ease just a moment later.

Your eyes locked, and before you knew it, his lips crashed on your own, stealing the breath from your lungs.

Morals. Values. Hatred.

You’d had it all not longer than five minutes ago.

And now?

You couldn’t care less.

You tried to convince yourself this wasn’t Tom, this was someone else entirely—but, in the end, it washim. It was Tom who’d walked into this room as though it was his own, who looked at you like a predator at its prey.

“Lie back,” he said with a smug grin, tugging his tie loose as he watched you get comfortable, your back resting against the headboard of your single bed.

Tom joined you not ten seconds later, not bothering to undress himself—earning him a confused glare.

“This is about you, sweetheart. Not about me—not today.”

Fuck.

You didn’t even know what made this worse—the petname or the hinted promise that there would be a next time. That this was not a one-time occurrence, not just him using your secret, your ignorance to his advantage.

“Spread your legs for me,” he encouraged, brushing a warm hand down the inside of your thigh, making you tremble. Still, you did as he said, revealing your red lace thong to his waiting eyes.

He growled at the sight in front of him, trailing a finger along the waistband and pressing a kiss to your knee.

“Off,” he says, helping you ease the fabric down your legs when you lifted your hips for him.

Then, you were bare.

And he was fully dressed—save for the robes he’d left draped over your chair and the tie that hung loose around his neck.

He looked awfully human like this. Not like he usually did—strictly polished, stern expression, not a single crease in his clothes.

Tom looked hungry.

Hungry for what was waiting for him a mere breath away.

With both of his hands splayed on the inside of each thigh, he gently spread them, softened brown eyes sweeping over the length of your glistening pussy before his index finger repeated the same move.

“Oh—“ you gasped, clenching your thighs around his arm as the foreign sensation spread warm and fast throughout your entire body.

“Open, or I will stop,” Tom warned, and you obeyed, parting them again.

His thumb pressed down on your clit, circling slowly while he dipped a single finger between your folds, coating himself in your arousal before he pressed inside.

Your eyes never dared to stray from his, not even when he curled the single digit which had found its way into your pussy, finding that one spot he knew would free your mind from your worries—at least for now.

He kept a steady pace, only quickening when he felt you clench around him. Small gasps and moans slipped past your parted lips, and if he wasn’t already so utterly enchanted by your voice, this would have done it.

Tom sensed you were close—thighs trembling, walls clamping down tight around him—smiling to himself at how fast he got you to the breaking point.

Poor girl.

“Tom—“ you squealed when the sensations he was giving you became nearly overwhelming, but he held you steady, not letting you move away from his touch. “I— I can’t—“

He merely shook his head. “Oh, but you can, darling. Focus on everything I am giving you—it feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” you nodded and tried to keep your hips planted on the mattress, fighting the instinct to meet the gentle, slow thrust of his hand. He was watching you, and you had intended to keep it low, not give him the satisfaction he, if you were being honest, deserved to watch you fall apart for him—but when it was time, when the knot in your lower abdomen had wound so tight it was about to snap—you could no longer stick to it.

“Fuck, I—“

Tom drew tight figure eights on your clit, watching as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

“I know. Stop holding back. Be a good girl and come for me, hm?”

Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t hold back any longer.

With a broken half-moan, half-sob, you were pushed over the edge. He massaged over the spot he previously discovered, watching your every reaction.

How your thighs clenched around him, how your walls spasmed and pulsed, how your fingers dug into the bedsheets…

Tom worked you through it, only stopping when you whimpered his name, fingers closing around his wrist.

He resisted the urge to taste your sweet arousal on his tongue, instead watching your tired eyes stare back at his.

Without any hint of regret.

“Good?” He asked after a few moments, pressing a kiss to your knee, observing you with his usual self-assured, distanced eyes.

Smug bastard.

“Amazing. So fucking amazing.”

You meant to reach for your nightgown, but a firm hand stopped you.

“Not yet,” Tom purred, and before you could ask, his hand had descended between your legs once again. “One more for me, sweetheart.”

“Riddle,” you glared at him, but it only spurred him on. He dipped his thumb between your folds and trailed along the length of your pussy, circling your entrance before he eased inside.

“Yes?” He asked, raising a brow as though he didn’t know what you could possibly mean, watching your lips part for a moan.

“Why do you have to be an overachiever all the fucking time?” You asked through gritted teeth, staring at him.

“Mostly, I am doing what is asked of me, that’s all,” he says. “I am merely doing a good job—better than others. Better than you, for example.”

“Oh, fuck you, Riddle.” You snarled, wrenching your hips backwards, away from his touch. 

Your heart skipped a beat when you saw the grin forming on his lips, and he yanked your legs apart, kissing his way down the inside of your thigh until he was so close to your soaked cunt, you thought he may—

“Fuck you? Like this?” Tom asked innocently, slipping not one but two of his fingers inside you, head inching forward until the tip of his tongue brushed over your clit before his lips wrapped around the swollen, still sensitive bud.

“Oh— oh God,” you cried out, nails scratching over the satin sheets, desperately trying to find something to hold onto—without success.

You settled for the curls of his dark hair instead, and he groaned against your pussy as you tugged on the roots with every swipe of his tongue over your clit.

“I prefer Tom,” he murmured simply, with such confidence you might actually have to hex him after this. He didn’t let you finalise those thoughts though, burying his fingers knuckle-deep, suckling and licking like a man starved.

“I— I hate you.”

He smirked, biting down gently. “I am aware. Now come for me, angel.”

You climaxed not even a minute later, moans echoing off the walls in your dorm as your hips bucked against his face. And for once, just this time—you were more than relieved that your dorm was so far away from any other students. Judging by Tom’s satisfied expression, you must not have held back.

Tom licked his lips—swollen and wet with your slick—and gazed up at you. So innocently, if he wasn’t still centimetres from your pussy, you may have mistaken him for an angel.

He straightened himself, fixed his tie, stood up, and grabbed his robes.

You assumed he’d leave without saying another word—but you were mistaken.

“Stay away from the bar next time. Or don’t—I can’t wait to see their faces when you confess to this.”

You grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at him.

“Fuck you.”

He didn’t bother picking it up from the floor as he headed for the door, still wearing that same smug smirk from before.

“Next time, sweetheart.”

thank you so much for reading! <3 feel free to reblog and leave feedback! :3 — masterlist. | oneshots.

©2026 viperify. please do not copy, translate or claim my work as your own

𑁤 general taglist:

If you were to think back, it honestly never bothered you much, you’d come to terms with it quite well—you were a late bloomer.

Sure, it meant that you didn’t have the exact same experiences as most of your peers when growing up, making those late nights in the dorms when the voices of all your friends danced around the room, feet kicking giddily as they shared which boy they’d gone to Hogsmead with that weekend. Or when they detailed the innocent lingering touches and fleeting eye contact they’d made with their crush—in person demonstrations and all. Of course, those nights were fun, playful girls nights, but it more listening than reenacting for you.

Even as you progressed further, graduating and starting univerisity, it didn’t bug you like your friends had assumed it would—’it’ being your lack of experience.

And it wasn’t that you were undesirable, far from it, opportunity isn’t an issue—you just weren’t in a rush. It also didn’t make you any more eager to speed things along after hearing countless disappointing and awkward recounts of your friends experiences.

Quite frankly, it just wasn’t the be-all and end-all of your youth, you had plenty of other things to worry about, plenty of other things that kept your mind comfortably occupied. And you were still young, there was still time for you to play catch-up, if and when you decided you wanted to.

The thing is, you were under the impression had a say in it in the first place—when in reality, the universe had other plans for you.

And those plans?

As it turned out, took form in the shape of three boys.

You’d thought they were a bit strange at orientation, their dynamic an interesting sight to say the least. But it wasn’t very long before you were sucked into their orbit, well and truly in the thick of it—completely out of your depth.

Because you’d yet to have a boyfriend, let alone three, but alas—you found yourself unable to deny them.

Falling into place with them relatively seemlessly, although the boys had been dating long before you came into the picture and have known each other longer, that wasn’t why you kept finding yourself picking at the skin around your nails, knawing at the flesh on the inside of your mouth, frequently lost in deep thought.

Granted, most of this was fairly new.

Welcomed, wanted, loved—you should be perfectly content right now, but there was small looming inkling of something in the back of your mind every time you saw them.

They were so comfortable together, in complete and almost constant harmony with each other—and it was a sight to behold, perfect and cozy as they lounged around Sirius’ thankfully large flat.

Both him and James lying on one end of the settee, tangled together in an obsure pile of limbs. Sirius had his hands underneath James’ shirt—baring the bottom of his stomach and pretty brown happy trail out in the open, fingers tracing soft and small patterns onto his skin. James’ hand carding and threading through his curls while mindlessly scrolling on his phone, occassional content hums leaving his mouth. Remus—he was sat on the floor resting his back against the sofa, pressed against James’ leg, head leaning on his knee, book in hand.

The epitome of domesticity.

All so very intune with each other, and then there was you.

Sat at the other end of the couch, just over an arms length away from them, scrunched into the corner covered in a blanket—trying to reach the word count for a project and failing miserably to focus on the screen in front of you.

It’s simple, you could go, scoot over and join them in their comfortable bliss, but it seemed just that bit too hard—where would you start?

Until now you never considered being inexperienced a bad thing, but you couldn’t help but wonder how if just a bit of knowhow would’ve make you less shy to join.

Navigating the mass of bodies should really be at the bottom of your to-do list, so taking a deep breath, you force your attention to the painstakingly boring work on your lap, once again starting to type. You’d built up a good rhythm, the words flowing easier as the time went by, and even though your legs had gone numb a while ago, it seemed like a good idea to ride the wave of concentration while you still had it.

So much so that you didn’t notice the shuffling sounds of movement going on a meer meter away. James had made his way up and off the couch, padding into the kitchen, switching on the radio upon entry—a telltale sign he’d about to start cooking.

The space James had left on couch was still hot from his residual heat when, on cue, Sirius reach his hand over to Remus’ shoulder, pouting dramatically, patting the still-warm space on the couch. “You’re not coming up?”

Remus, his neck tilted back slightly to look at Sirius, exhaled through his nose. He hesitated for half a second before shifting to stand. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” he muttered, pushing himself up.

As he moved past you, his fingertips brushed against your leg—so lightly, so fleetingly that you barely registered the touch, too engrossed in your project to notice. If you had noticed, you might’ve seen the way he glanced at you, how his gaze lingered for just a beat longer than necessary.

By the time he plopped down onto the couch, Sirius wasted no time crawling onto him, sprawling across his lap like a cat seeking warmth. Remus just huffed out a light chuckle as Sirius melted against him, pressing his face into his shoulder and humming contentedly. Instinctively, Remus’ hand came up to his hair, fingers tangling in soft curls, stroking without thought.

But even as he did, his eyes flickered back to you—quick, searching glances that went unnoticed. He can imagine it to be overwhelming, entering an already established relationship—still so many things unspoken, still so much to learn. And Remus ever the watcher, had noticed how your little habits—your tendencies to take up as little space as possible, shrinking slightly under the pressure of intimacy.

It’s not that you’re afraid of it—affection, intimacy—it was that you were just genuinely clueless, there’s not exactly a manual on how to do all; something that they already do so well, so intuitively between themselves.

It made you nervous is all, unable to imagine how awkward it would be if you’d done the wrong thing, put yourself in the wrong place—the room for mistakes seemed endless.

Still, Remus wasn’t going to push, or pry. Not until he was sure, sure that the way your fingers twitch by your side was with the desire to join, sure that your not so discrete hesitant glances were of a longing nature.

All his thoughts were about you, that was until Sirius distracted him in the best way he knew how.

Soft, light kisses pressed against his collarbone, trailing up to his neck, his jaw. His lips warm delicately working his way up until he was scattering pecks across Remus’ face—his nose, the tops of his freckled cheekbones, his temple—Remus was still slightly spying on you despite Sirius’ playful assault.

And, of course just moments before this your concentration had finally faltered, the smell of whatever James was cooking breaking your focus ever so slightly.

His eyes flicked toward where you sat—shoulders hunched ever so slightly forward, brows furrowed in that way they always did when you were deep in concentration. He wondered if you even realized the way you bit at your lip, the way your fingers twitched ever so slightly like they wanted to fidget, to reach out.

Sirius barely registered the amused hum from him before the next kiss landed, this time firmer against the corner of his mouth. Then another—this one lingering, coaxing, before Sirius finally pressed their lips together properly, letting it stretch just long enough for Remus to forget what he was doing.

You blinked, taking in the scene, your eyes widening slightly before flitting away, your fingers pausing over your keyboard. Lips pursing together slightly before your teeth peaked out and took hold of the corner of your mouth.

Sirius felt the way the corners of Remus’ lips spread into a smirk before he pulled away from him, just long enough to whispered to him, breath tickling the shell of his ear, “Watch her,”

Pulling them both onto their side, stealing small looks in your direction as he kissed Remus again—this time deeper, more obnoxious, more deliberate—sighs and hums of contentment bouncing between them.

Naturally, your eyes drifted to the source of the noise, body stilling as though unsure whether to look away or keep watching.

They found it quite cute, the way you eyes darted around the room frantically, trying hard to not stare despite being helplessly drawn to look at the cause of sounds. Teeth mercilessly taking refuge in your cheek, forcing your lips in to a pout that bordered bashful.

Curious thing, you were.

Satisfied with the effect, he exhaled a quiet laugh against Sirius’ lips and decided to stop tormenting you—for now. With a final squeeze to Sirius’ waist, Remus stood, making his way over towering tall over you and, without hesitation, shut your laptop with a soft click.

Whipping your head to find him, brows arched up, a light smirk twitching at his lips as he looked down at you—gaze so intense you couldn’t bring yourself to look over at whatever was causing the sofa to dip beside you.

Only breaking when you felt his hot breath skim along the edge of your earlobe—spine immediately becoming taut, skin prickling down the back of your neck. Sirius was so close and you didn’t need to look at him to know he had a mischievous smirk playing on his lips—“I think you’ve worked hard enough, sweetheart.”

You swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of the warmth radiating from them both, of the weight of their gazes—teasing, expectant, knowing. You weren’t completely unfamilar with their touch, James loved to press obnoxious wet kisses on your cheeks. Remus was also very well versed in the language of forehead kisses and hand holding—Sirius had even gone as far to occassionally sneak dangerous little pecks onto the thin skin behind your ear when you cuddled.

Alert, and flickering panicked looks between them, the tips of your ears felt hot as you stammered out the words, “uh—everything okay?”

Your hands were in your lap clasped together tightly—thumb unconsciously picking at the skin around your nails when Sirius came impossibly closer to you, a small huffed chuckle leaving as he neared. Fingertips brushing a few stray hairs behind your ears, voice low and smooth— “Mmmm, everything’s fine—Moony’s just got a question,”

He could feel the slight shudder that ran through your body, gaze shifting to Remus, hands stuffed into his pockets, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he leaned down over you—very clearly entertained by your reactions. His eyes darted around your face, scanning, observing your wide-eyed expression, how you sunk into the soft cushion, trying to put space between you.

The corner of his lips quirked up into a crooked smile, tilting his head as he asked;

“Would you like one?”

The warmth of Sirius’ fingertips trailing light ghostly touches down the side of your neck was so distracting, making your mouth painfully dry, air catching in your throat as your opened and closed your lips repeatedly. Wracking your brain for a response, words, anything—but it felt annoyingly blank, sucking in a shaky breath, your words came out pinched and meek—breathy on the exhale.

Sirius snickered under his breath, barely containing his delight at your reaction, and Remus exhaled a soft chuckle of his own.

“One what?”

Even if you tried to push yourself any further into the couch, practically willing yourself to become one with the fabric—anything to escape this awful flipping feeling at the pits of your stomach—you couldn’t. And it only got worse when Remus leaned in further, precariously close, the tip of his nose just barely grazing the skin of your cheekbones, Sirius could see the way your shoulders inched up and up, closer to your ears as your virtually shrunk into yourself.

Remus’ voice was rough and teasing, making the heat that resided in the tips of your ear spread invasively under the skin of your cheeks. “I saw you—it’s okay to be curious, my love, ” He took his hands from his pockets and brought one to the arm of the sofa, the other resting on the ball of Sirius’ knee, that was flush against yours. He leaned back as he continued, capturing your gaze, “You don’t have to be so shy about it.”

His words were low, steady, laced with that quiet knowing that made your stomach tighten. He was close—too close, and Sirius wasn’t any better, his fingertips still ghosting along your jaw, trailing up toward your ear, his shoulders brushing against yours.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe properly, heat blooming in your chest—radiating outwards, the close proximity, it all just had your head feeling rattled. “I—” You started, but the words immediately died in your throat, and Sirius huffed dramatically, shifting even nearer.

“C’mon, love, we won’t bite.” His breath was warm against your skin. “Unless you want us to.”

Your inhale was sharp, and Sirius grinned, practically preening at your reaction.

But Remus—Remus remained still, observing, reading for any flicker of hesitation, every small tell you didn’t even realize you were giving away. He tilted his head slightly, watching the way your hands curled into your lap, the way your breath hitched when Sirius’ fingers traced your pulse.

And then, his voice dropped even lower, softer—”So would you like one?” The back of his fingers came lightly over the curve of your jaw, lips brushing the bottom of your earlobes when he finally whispered,

“A kiss.”

Your stomach flipped violently, breath hitching and as a light shudder passed over your body—Remus must have noticed, because he smiled—soft and knowing, tilting his head slightly, giving you space, waiting. He wasn’t pushing, wasn’t demanding—just offering.

And somehow, that was even more overwhelming.

Lips parted slightly, words failing you completely, barely forcing out the start of a sentence, “B—” When his voice rang just behind you, dripping with amusement; “Have I walked into an ambush?” You hadn’t even noticed James entering the room.

But that was exactly how you felt, ambushed—trapped like a lamb in the midst of a group of lions, chest skipping out of its rhythmic rise and fall when James’ hand slid gently over your shoulder, your lips were still parted, holding the remains of your unfinished sentence. Sirius spoke, turning his head to look at James, smirk taking on a wolfish quality—”Just seeing if our girl would like a kiss,” As the last word left his lips, he was facing you again, head tilting to fit into the dip of your neck, lips almost gliding over the skin.

No where to run, the combined weight of their gaze made you awfully aware of your racing heartbeat, sounding loud between your ears, riccocheting off the empty space in your brain—only able to blink-up at Remus, mouth agape.

Sirius made an amused little noise in the back of his throat. “She’s thinking too hard again,” he murmured, his fingertips moving from their place on your collarbone, to travel down the curve of your skin—fighting every urge in your body to not arch away from his touch. His palm stopped and rest in the small of your back, hot and anchoring.

“Darling, it’s a yes or no question.” The words were still soft, still pressure-less, leaving you all the room in the world to stop this.

Your fingers twitched slightly, curling into the fabric of your sweater, throat suddenly unbearably dry—still completely entrapped under Remus’ watchful eye.

“I’ve never—” You swallowed. “I don’t know how.”

It was more breath than words, was barely a whisper, almost inaudible, but they all heard it.

Sirius exhaled sharply through his nose, amused, James’ palm soothed comfortingly over you shoulder, while Remus’ smile softened further, something impossibly tender flashing across his face.

“That’s alright,” he murmured, voice quiet, patient. His hand lifted slightly, fingers hovering near your cheek but barely touching, waiting for any sign, any indication from you. “I could show you.”

Sirius hummed lightly beside you, clearly pleased with where this was going. “Mmm, yeah, Moons is an excellent teacher.”

Your gaze flickered between them, caught between the heat of Sirius’ mischief and the warmth of Remus’ patience, the quiet promise in his eyes.

Your heart was pounding.

Opening your mouth, but nothing came out, your throat tight—only able to nod shyly. Sirius took pity on you, grinning as he shifted back and patted his lap invitingly.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” he purred. “Front row seat for the lesson.”

You blinked at him, completely dumbfounded,

“What?”

Remus, ever patient, gave Sirius a look, but there was amusement there, too. “We’ll give you a demonstration.”

Sirius patted his thigh again, eyes glinting with mischief. “Come on, love, don’t be shy.”

You hesitated for a long moment, but Sirius just raised an eyebrow, waiting expectantly, his fingers tapping against his leg. James had already made his way around the sofa, and looked just entirely too pleased at the idea.

Eventually, you sighed, heat creeping along the back of your neck as you shuffled over, hesitantly perching yourself on Sirius’ lap. His arms immediately wound around your waist, back flush against his chest, keeping you snug against him as he leaned in, breath tickling your ear.

Remus huffed out a quiet laugh, already reaching for James' collar, tugging him forward until their lips met in an easy, practiced rhythm. Practically melting into each others touch.

It was undemanding, natural. And unconsciously, your eyes darted away from the scene, flickering down onto your hands that still endlessly fiddled with the hem of your sleeve. But, against your luck, Sirius caught you.

“No no no, keep looking,” His voice was gentle, no traces of reprimand, he could feel stiff you were—breath shallow, shoulders tense. Pulling you in further against him, hand moving from your waist to settle on the round of your thighs—thumb stroking in a soothing pattern. Along with the way his voice rumbled of his voice in chest against your back and the velvety hum of his words, “Relax, love,” purged some of the nervous tension that had settled in your bones away.

It wasn’t just that they were kissing—it was how. The effortless way James’ hands slid into Remus’ hair, the way Remus exhaled softly into it, melting just a bit. The way their noses brushed, the way Remus tilted his head slightly to deepen it, slow and unhurried, languid in a way that sent something strange and warm curling in your stomach.

It was so fluid, second-nature.

James made a quiet noise in the back of his throat when Remus bit at his bottom lip, and Sirius hummed behind you.

“See that?” he murmured against your ear. “Slow, but firm. It’s not a race, love. It’s about feeling it, letting it happen.”

Your breath was shallow, completely entranced, and James—who had definitely caught the way your fingers curled against Sirius’ hands your thighs—broke the kiss just long enough to grin at you.

“You taking notes, sweetheart?”

Your mouth opened, but nothing came out.

Sirius chuckled, chin propped on your shoulder. “Don’t worry, Prongs, I think she’s getting the idea.”

Your entire body was on fire.

And he could feel it, the heat radiating off your body against his, trying not fidget in his lap, and he didn’t help your case. Opting to torture you more with his low teasing cadance and lips dangerously close to your pulse, whispering; “Think you’re ready to try?”

You swallowed thickly, pulse hammering in your throat. Ready to try? That was the question, wasn’t it?

Because in theory, you knew what kissing was supposed to be. You’d seen it a thousand times—in movies, in books, in passing glances stolen between strangers. But knowing wasn’t feeling, and feeling was something else entirely.

Especially when three sets of eyes were locked onto you, waiting.

You wet your lips unconsciously, and Sirius made a pleased little sound behind you, his hands settling more firmly, squeezing lightly against your thighs. “That’s a good start,” he murmured. “Mmm, maybe she’s a natural, Moons.”

You exhaled sharply, tilting your head slightly to catch Remus’ expression. He was still watching you, his gaze steady, unreadable. You searched for impatience there, for amusement, for any sign of frustration—but there was none. Only quiet, open curiosity, waiting for you to make the call.

Inhaling deeply though your nose, a light wave of hesitance flickering through you.

“I…” You trailed off, glancing over at James, who had since leaned back against the couch, all easy confidence, his head tilting slightly to the side. “With…who?”

The second the words left your mouth, Sirius laughed, delighted.

“Oh, love,” he purred, adjusting his wide legged position even wider, causing your hips to fall further into his middle—sinking into his touch. “That’s the best part.”

James smirked at that, hazel eyes flashing. “Mmm, guess it’s only fair we let you pick,” he mused. “We wouldn’t want to overwhelm you.”

Liar.

You didn’t believe that for a second, not when Sirius was grinning like the cat that got the cream, and certainly not when Remus had the nerve to sit beside James, looking at you like he was already in your head, reading your thoughts before you could even think them.

Your heart was racing so fast you were surprised they couldn’t hear it.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to—you did. But what if you messed it up? What if you got the angle wrong, or forgot to breathe, or—

“Darling.” Remus’ voice cut through your spiraling thoughts, quiet but firm. You snapped your gaze to him automatically, fingers twitching, picking at the jean fabric of by Sirius’ hands. “There’s nothing to get wrong.”

You barely had time to react before he leaned in—slow, deliberate—just close enough that the warmth of him made your breath stutter.

“Close your eyes,” he murmured.

You hesitated, but after a beat, you did.

The next thing you felt was the feather-light brush of his lips against your cheek—not quite a kiss, not really, just the barest ghost of contact. Lips parting, letting a shallow hitching breath pass.

“There,” he murmured. “Easy, isn’t it?”

His lips brushed another kiss over the curve of your jaw, still unbearably gentle, giving you time, giving you space. You inhale shakily, body still burning against Sirius, Remus just hummed, trailing the kisses just slightly lower. There was barely any time for you to respond before he finally—finally—pressed his lips against yours

It was so much softer than you’d expected, warm and welcoming. Not demanding, not urgent—just there, patient, waiting for you to catch up.

Your stomach flipped, and Sirius hummed his approval against your ear, his hands rubbing absent, slow circles into your sides. James, let out a quiet exhale, watching intently from beside Remus—hands twitching almost in efforts to stay put.

Trying your best to stay out of your head, focus on the kiss but not too hard, pace yourself, enjoy the moment—your hands curling into themselves at your sides. But when Remus hummed, a small pleased sound into the kiss, the tension building in you slipped away. Further and further into the back of your mind.

He kissed you like it was the easiest thing in the world, like he wanted to be kissing you, and your brain was getting more mushy as the contact continued. Your hands twitched again, and this time, you actually moved, leaning slightly into the kiss—one of them hesitantly lifting to rest against the front of his shirt.

Sirius, sensing the change immediately, grinned, chin still propped on your shoulder.

“That’s it, sweetheart.”

James hummed in agreement, eyes dark with interest. “Looks like she’s a fast learner.”

Remus, still entirely too composed, simply smiled into the kiss, his hands finally moving to cradle your jaw, holding you there as he deepened it just slightly.

By the time he pulled back, you were breathless, cheeks flushed—lips wet and reddened.

James, evidently unable to contain himself, turned your chin slightly toward him, eyes practically shining with mischief.

“My turn.”

His lips were on yours, and if Remus was patient and careful, James was the opposite.

Kissing you like he was playing—feverish and teasing, like he knew exactly how new it was for you, how you were still unsure, and he was more than content in exploring.

Initially he let you take the lead, barely pressing into you, lips moving slowly, teasingly, his thumb brushing absentmindedly against your jaw as if coaxing you forward. But as he leaned further into you, hands planting themselves firmly on your thighs—parting his lips against yours.

You were vaguely aware of the sound of Sirius humming in approval somewhere behind you, his fingers tightening just slightly on your waist as James’ tongue flicked playfully against your bottom lip. Your breath caught in your throat, and he grinned against your mouth, clearly pleased with your reaction.

James littered more kisses onto your skin, starting at the corner of your mouth, down your jaw, bringing the exposed skin of your collarbone gently between his lips—nipping and sucking softly. Earning him a breathy whimper, exhaling “Jamie,” as you craned your neck into him more, hands jumping to find purchase on his arms.

Remus’ hand inched up James’ spine, almost as a reminder that said, don’t be greedy. Withdrawing, he allowed the other a better look at your expression—half lidded, satified hums leaving your still kiss-flushed lips, unbareably pretty.

Sirius let out a low, appreciative whistle behind you, a low “Damn,” passing into the air, breath skimming over the back of your neck.

“Ready for round two?”

You hadn’t had time to come back down into the room fully before Sirius’ hands came down to your hips—the words barely proccessing in your mind as you spun on his lap. Positioning you so your legs split across his thighs. His hands settled on your waist, warm and steady, fingers splayed just under the hem of your shirt, grounding you.

Sirius was still watching you, that signature smirk playing at his lips, but there was something softer in his expression now—something reassuring, like he was making sure you weren’t too overwhelmed.

But how could you not be?

You could still feel the lingering warmth of Remus’ kiss on your lips, still taste James’ breath against yours. And now planted on Sirius’ lap, he was moving closer, eyes flicking over your face, searching for hesitation.

You didn’t even realize you’d clenched your hands into nervous fists until Sirius made a small noise of amusement and pried one open, lacing his fingers through yours. “Breath, sweetheart,” he murmured, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to your knuckles. “You’re in good hands.”

Unlike Remus’ patience or James’ teasing, Sirius kissed you like he was yearning.

its like a torch had been lit, your body was set even further ablaze when Sirius pressed his lips firmly against yours, immediately tightening his hold on your waist. Pads of his fingers grasping almost desperately onto the flesh trying to pull you closer than you already were—shifting his hips upwards into you. Your voice trembled in your throat, failing to make it to your lips as muffled moan threatened to leave you. Hands coming up to his neck, fingers threading and tugging at the hair at the base of his neck.

“Fucking hell, you two,” sounded from beside you, but it felt so far away, dulled by the thumping echo of your pulse in your ears and the soft hums and mewls leaving the both of you.

He kissed like he meant it, like he wanted you to feel all of it, tongue just barely teasing against the seam of your lips, making you gasp out a whine. He took full advantage of the sound, his hands squeezing at your curve of your hips before he pulled back just enough to grin against your mouth.

“Good girl,” he murmured.

The words sent a sharp jolt of heat down your spine, it had you arching into him against you will, rocking involuntarily into him, and Sirius let out a delighted little laugh. Head falling into the crook of his neck, slightly embarrassed by the reactions he so easily compelled from you.

“Ohh, Pads,” James drawled, chin resting on his shoulder, breath warm against his ear. “You’re gonna break her.”

Sirius hummed, utterly unbothered. “Dunno, Jamie—” his lips ghosted against your neck again, just barely touching, a tease, “—she seems to be holding up just fine.”

You weren’t.

Your thoughts were scrambled, body thrumming, your hands clutching onto Sirius as if he were the only thing tethering you to the earth.

And when you brought your head out of its hiding spot, Remus’ could barely contain the laugh that bubbled in his chest, musing with a tilting his head. “Mmm, think she likes it.” Your parted lips, chest heaving trying to catch your breath—pupils blown and hazy expression Remus was more than convinced you liked it.

Sirius, still curled up comfortably beneath you, pressed a lazy, open-mouthed kiss to your collarbone. “Yeah, sweetheart?” His voice was teasing, syrupy sweet, lips dragging up to your jaw, inching up to the corners of your mouth—almost kisses—then trailing back away. And you could only melt into them, breathless and dizzy and completely, utterly lost in it all.

“Should we stop, or do you wanna keep learning?”

this is my first time writing poly! so pls be kind x

It’s no secret that you’re Tommy’s pet. If the rumors weren’t enough, you always at his side, collared and mostly kneeling, would’ve made it obvious. He liked taking you out, taking you on walks. If you’re good he’ll let you off the leash, but if not then you stay firmly by his side, being dragged by your neck if you couldn’t keep up. 

He knew that everywhere he took you, men wanted to stare. They wanted to eye fuck you and use their imaginations to get rid of what little clothing he allowed you to wear. But most of them didn’t. Because everyone knows that you're his property— and he’s very protective of his property. 

The one man who dared to lay a hand on you while you were off your leash, being allowed to roam the Garrison while Tommy was talking, met a fate worse than the traitors did. That was the one and only time someone tried to touch his property.

You were sitting at his feet, almost under the table, with your head on his thighs as he ran his fingers through your hair and scratched your head. You weren’t listening to what he was saying, you just knew that it was important and you had to stay quiet at all costs. So you hugged his leg and nuzzled your face into his thigh with a pleased sigh. 

You love when he’s gentle with you. When he treats you like his puppy rather than his bitch. It fills your stomach with butterflies everytime. 

His hand moved down to gently caress your cheek, then he was placing his thumb over your lips, offering you something to take your mind off of how long you had to wait here. You took it in your mouth eagerly and sucked, letting your eyes flutter closed as you smiled around the digit. You probably could’ve fallen asleep if he left you here long enough. But just as you started dozing off, he was taking his hand back, making you frown. You realized that there weren’t any voices anymore and you couldn’t see any shoes under the table. 

“Aren’t you such a good pet… staying nice and quiet for me.” He cooed and you were too dumb and spaced out to realize he was mocking you. Nodding eagerly, you gave him a smile in response to the praise as you sat up straighter. “Go lay down in my office. I’ll be there shortly.” He ordered softly. 

“Yes, sir.” You crawled there, keeping your head down to avoid any passing eyes. If you got embarrassed, you’d slip up, then you’d be punished. You made it in his office and laid down on your cushion that was on the floor next to his desk. You weren’t sure how much time passed before he finally joined you, but you immediately sat up, eagerly waiting for his next command. He closed and locked the door, then walked over to pour himself a drink before sitting behind his desk with a heavy sigh. 

“Are you okay, sir?” He seemed stressed… The thought made you frown. 

“Just been a long day s’all.” He took a sip of his drink, then finally turned toward you. “You did a good job during my meeting.” He added, changing the subject. 

“Thank you, sir.” 

“I want to teach you something for next time.” He took another drink and you waited in anticipation. “At my feet.” He ordered, moving the chair back to give you enough room to kneel in front of him. “So obedient.” He murmured, almost to himself. “So small… So delicate.” His eyes darkened and you tried not to squirm under his gaze. “Sometimes I worry I’ll break you.” He uttered softly. 

“I can take it, sir.” You assured him, making him scoff a laugh. 

“s’that so?” He asked with amusement. You nodded in response. “Shall we test that?” He stood up and your eyes followed him curiously as he leaned on the edge of the desk, now behind you. “Face me.” You scrambled to turn around and sat on your knees eagerly. 

“I’m gonna teach you a new trick, love.” He set his glass on the desk and started unbuckling his belt. Your mouth was already salivating at just the sound of it clinking. He kept it in the belt loops, then started unbuttoning his pants, opening them just enough to slip his cock out. He only stroked it twice before pausing. “This might be easier while I’m still half soft.” He realized. 

“In your mouth.” You shuffled forward and wrapped your lips around him, starting to bob up and down until he stopped you. “No. All the way down and stay there.” You obeyed, wondering where this was going. He placed a hand on the back of your head and pushed you into him even more, squishing your nose against his pelvis. Once he was satisfied, he grabbed his belt and brought it behind your head, then started buckling it again. You stared up at him in confusion— how were you supposed to suck him off like this? He only looked at you after he finished securing it, then picked up his drink. 

“We’re training your throat today, pup. You’re going to stay there until I finish my drink.” He explained and your eyes widened. You’ve never stayed down that long before. 

Already you could feel his cock getting harder- bigger. You breathed steadily through your nose, trying to stay relaxed. He took a sip of his drink and stared down at you lazily. He still had almost half of the glass left and you had no idea how you were supposed to stay here until he finished. 

“Do you know why I’m training you to do this?” You could only let out a muffled sound in response. “I want to get you used to keeping my cock in your throat without choking and makin’ too much noise.” He gruffed, taking another small sip. “Once you can do that, that’s how you’ll stay during my meetings.” Those meetings are endless! How are you supposed to stay down the whole time? You wanted to ask that, but you could barely even whine. 

You felt the constant pressure on the back of your mouth now and you knew that he was close to being fully hard— close to going down your throat. You choked and your body convulsed, but you managed to calm down again, breathing heavily through your nose with tears in your eyes. He took another small sip, eyeing you with a lazy smirk as you started struggling. When he started petting your head, you looked up at him with a whimper. 

“Thought you said you could take it?” He murmured, challenging you to keep trying. So you took a deep breath and tried your best to relax. As soon as you did though, his cock was pushing past your throat barrier, making you gag as you whimpered and brought your hands up to his thighs, earning you a hard slap to the cheek. “Down.” He scolded, making you lower them with a blush. He drank a little more and it finally was a little less than half full. When you choked again and started squirming, trying to get away, he slapped you again. 

“Stay.” He ordered, making you whine. You stopped squirming and did your best to control your gag reflex. “So good at following commands, aren’t you, bitch?” You sobbed around him at the name. Anytime he orders you around like a dog, calls you bitch, pup, or puppy, you just get so fucking needy and so fucking wet. 

He took another slow sip and let out a pleased sigh at your obedience. When his eyes suddenly turned darker and almost sinister, you quickly grew nervous. He plugged your nose and your eyes widened as your struggling picked up again. He let you panic and writhe like that until your lungs were starting to burn and your head was starting to feel heavy, but he let go. You took in a sharp breath through your nose, then let out a strangled sob around him. 

“I know…” He cooed with mock sympathy. “Doing such a good job, keeping me so deep.” He started petting your head again and you beamed at the praise. “I think you can go deeper though.” Before you even had a chance to think about what that might’ve meant, he was hitting the back of your head a few times, making you choke again. “Good pup.” He groaned, ruffling your hair. “Maybe you were right. Maybe you can handle it.” You were worried that meant he was going to do something to make this harder, but he just raised the glass to his lips again, taking a larger gulp this time. Barely any left— maybe two more sips. You can last that long.  

“You do make such a good sleeve for my cock.” His praise always makes you blush. “Maybe that’s what you should go by; Tommy’s personal pet and cocksleeve.” He took another small sip and you would’ve cried in relief if you were able to. “I think like that actually.” He raised the glass again and you whimpered as you stared up at him with pleading eyes. Just before it reached his lips, he paused, not drinking yet. “What about you, pet? Do you like that?” You did your best to nod, say yes, anything to satisfy him. 

With a pleased smirk, he finally threw his head back and downed the rest of the drink before placing the glass on the desk and looking down at you, finding you waiting eagerly for him to unbuckle the belt. 

“I think I’ll have a smoke too.” He reached in his pocket and you let out a garbled moan, realizing that he was far from done with you. Once it was lit, he lifted it to his mouth and took a long drag, then blew the smoke down onto you. “After this, then you can be done.” He said teasingly. You tried to whine around him, but it just made you gag again, so you focused on staying completely still and quiet, and breathing slowly through your nose, even though it felt like your airway was partially blocked. 

“This was supposed to be a challenge, pup. But look at you… taking it so easily.” He took another drag of the cigarette and you had to force down the cough that the smoke was bringing up. “Who’s pet are you?” He stared down at you with a glint in his eyes, waiting for you to answer. You tried to speak, but you could barely get out one syllable before gagging again. “What was that? Use my full name, love.” 

You whimpered and tried to say “Thomas Shelby’s” but you started choking again. Everytime you sputtered, more saliva that had built up in your mouth was being forced out of you, some of it trailing down his balls or your neck, and some of it getting on his pants— you knew you were going to be punished for that later. 

“Come on pet, it’s not that hard. Say my fuckin’ name.” You looked up at him with a strangled whimper, silently begging him to not make you try again. When you didn’t speak, he raised his brows and took another drag of the cigarette, giving you one last chance. “If you can’t follow orders, I’ll put this out on your pretty face, and then light a new one.” He said, gesturing with the cigarette. 

So with a shaky exhale through your nose, you tried to suppress your gag reflex enough for you to talk again. You barely managed to mumble out an incoherent ‘Thomas’ before you gagged again, the hardest you had so far. You instinctively brought your hands up to his thighs as your body convulsed. It wouldn’t stop. You kept gagging, kept choking— you were practically dry heaving at this point— but he was barely half finished with the cigarette. 

“Settle down, love.” You whimpered and squeezed your eyes shut with furrowed brows, making him chuckle. “I know…” He cooed. “I know, puppy.. But you’re doing such a good job, you can’t stop now. You’re almost done.” As if to emphasize his point, he brought the cigarette up to his lips again. 

Tears were streaming down your cheeks now and you squeezed his thighs tightly to keep yourself from hitting him away or trying to push him back. You were starting to panic even more now though. With the intrusion in your throat and the shallow breaths as you cried, it felt like you couldn’t breath, which only made you need to hyperventilate, making the feeling worse. 

“Look at me.” He said softly. You whimpered and forced yourself to look up at him with teary eyes, taking in his blurry figure. He was petting your head again, trying to soothe you. “Just try to breathe. You’re doing so good, I know you can take it for just a little bit longer, eh?” You whimpered and averted your gaze, not really agreeing with him, but unable to say that. “Cause you’re my good girl. You’re my pet. And Tommy Shelby’s pet is as strong as he is… that’s why he chose her.” Your whole face flushed down to your chest at his words— you’re used to some praise, but never to this extent. 

When you let out a shaky breath and brought your hands back down to your sides, he gave you a proud smile. You felt like you were on the verge of gagging again any second now, so you tried not to move, not to breathe, anything to keep it from happening. 

“Should I give my good girl a treat?” He had the smirk on his face that usually meant trouble and you got a little nervous. “Yeah… I think she deserves something for doin’ such a good job.” You watched as he took a long drag of the cigarette, then your hips flinched when you felt pressure on your core. His leg was extended between yours, the top of his ankle resting right on your clit.   

“Go ahead, pup. Hump my leg.” You tried not to whine at the degrading words, not wanting to gag again. Even though doing this would make you release sounds that would probably make you choke, you knew that he wasn’t asking, he was ordering. So you started slowly rocking your hips, letting out a sigh through your nose as your eyes fluttered shut. Truthfully, everything about this situation had your clit throbbing and you were just glad you could finally get some relief. When you started grinding faster, you choked a little, but quickly swallowed it down. It just felt so good. And the last time you were allowed an orgasm was a few days ago because of how busy he’s been, so you were chasing it eagerly. 

“Just a little humping and my good pup turns into a bitch in heat.” He sighed, almost disappointed. “At least I trained you early. I’m sure if you didn’t have any rules for a day, you’d try to hump everything in sight.” You whined, but it cut off into a gag and you had to bring your focus back to actively controlling it. 

More smoke was blown in your face and you forced yourself not to whine again. When you looked up, you almost sighed in relief when you saw how close he was to the filter. You met his gaze, he was a little blurry through your tears, but you could see the pleased look on his face. It was faint, but it was definitely there. Wrapping your arms around his leg, you started grinding a little faster chasing your own pleasure. 

“Can you do one last thing for me, pet?” You did your best to nod, but your head barely moved. It probably didn’t matter though, he’d expect you to say yes no matter what. “I know I said after a smoke, but can you wait until I finish?” He knew exactly what he was doing using that tone. There wasn’t even a possibility of you saying anything other than yes when he spoke to you like that. To respond, you just squeezed his leg and he gave you a proud grin. 

He was almost at the filter now and with one, long drag, he finally finished it, stubbing it out on the ashtray and putting both of his hands on the edge of the desk next to his hips. 

“I‘m close, but I need a little more to get there, love.” That was the only warning you got before he started grinding against your face, making you choke when he cock pushed impossibly deeper. “If you want to speed this up, you know what to do.” He said through a breath. You brought your hand up to cup his balls, playing with them gently to add more stimulation. 

You were basically dry heaving again. Tears were rolling down your cheeks as you sputtered, your body convulsing as you tried to free yourself. You could feel bile rising in your throat now and you prayed he would be done very soon so you didn’t almost throw up on him.  

“You want me to finish quickly, eh?” You tried to nod again. “And you’re willing to let me do whatever I need to make that happen?” That made you falter… What would he need to do? He didn’t even let you try to answer this time. “Good girl.”

He plugged your nose and your eyes widened as you looked up at him with fear, making him groan. His other hand settled on the back of your head and he started pushing you down, going faster and faster. He wasn’t really pushing you down, but the movement was enough to make you choke anyway. Your lungs burned and the gagging intensified. When you brought your hand up to his thighs to push yourself away, he let go of your nose and slapped your cheek, hard. 

“You know where your hands need to be.” He warned, giving you a chance to put them back… and you did. He plugged your nose again and you had to dig your nails into his leg to keep from moving your hand again. Your other hand on his balls wasn’t helping much because of how hard you were focusing on not throwing up. Garbled whimpers escaped you as you tried pulling your head back, but even without his hand pushing you down, the belt would’ve stopped you. 

“You can breathe when I fuckin’ come.” He gruffed. God- you hoped that’d be soon. Spit was rolling down your neck to your chest, probably making a mess over the pretty clothes he bought for you. You started to feel lightheaded and your eyes were fluttering, trying to stay open. He moved both hands to the back of your head, letting you breathe again finally, but your relief was cut short. 

He let out a choked groan and both of his hands flattened on your head as he bucked his hips. With how deep he was, you couldn’t even really swallow his come, it was just being forced down. You tried to focus on his quiet moans and the way his cock was twitching inside your throat, but nothing could take your mind off of the constant gagging. 

His sounds died down and his hands loosened, letting you up just a tiny bit. You squeezed his thigh to get his attention, as if your loud choking wasn’t enough, and his eyes opened as he tilted his head down at you, his chest heaving. 

“Yes?” He asked innocently, making you let out a garbled sob around him. “If there’s something you want, you know you need to use your words.” He watched you struggle for another moment until his breathing settled into a normal speed, then reached for the belt. As soon as it was released, you shot back and started coughing, bracing yourself with your hands on the floor, watching a glob of your saliva slowly fall from your lips to the ground. When you were finally panting less and didn’t feel bile in your throat, you looked up at him, your chest still heaving slightly. 

“You did good, pet. I’m proud of you.” He ran his fingers through your hair and you sighed as you leaned into his touch. “I have no doubt that with a little more training, you’ll be able to take it without making a sound.” 

Taglist (join here)

an orgasm is a very human thing. and spencer has had many, many orgasms before. he lived basically off of having them. but none of them have been as good as the one he had while seeing the pictures and videos you’d sent him.

and he’s tried…

tried so hard…

a whole week. he’s been going live every night for a week. his arms is sore at this point, he swears it’ll hurt if he got hard again. and he had made so much money… it was stupid, but maybe it was because he had tried everything that week. everything to get an orgasm as good as the one you’d given him. he had used all his toys too; his fleshlight —into which he pumped his dick with abandon using his eidetic memory to remember the sound you made on your videos—, his vibrator —which he’s run up and down his cock and around the leaking tip—, his other vibrator that stimulated his prostate —the overstimulation made him a mess, but it wasn’t as good as your guidance and words—, her blowing masturbator — to imagine what your mouth would feel like—…

but of course… it didn’t work. and you hadn’t joined not even one of those lives. he looked like a kicked puppy on all of them out of camera, needing you to cum easier and well… better, harder.

@ entersandman

@ entersandman; want your mouth on me. i can say please.

@ entersandman

@ entersandman; where are you? i miss you…

it wasn’t fair. you couldn’t just... show him how good “sex” could feel and then leave him like that. he grew paranoid, watching everyone —female of course— in his classes in hopes of a sign, a slip, and needy, that too.

soooooooo needy.

@ entersandman

mommy please

please need you

you smirked at the new messages on your phone.

@ puredoll

can’t baby, you know i’m studying, not everyone is smart as you, my clever boy

@ entersandman

i’ll help you! just tell me who you are and we can study together!

you snickered and sent him a picture of your cleavage, since you were laying downwards on bed, reading your philosophy books.

@ puredoll

almost got me baby. but we both know that studying isn’t what you want.

spencer groaned, at the sight and at the feeling of his cock standing up, pretty and ready to go. he pouted, and thought about sending you a picture to try and get you with his puppy eyes, but ended up getting shy about the idea and gave up.

@ entersandman

you’re mean.

you couldn’t help but laugh when the notification of spencer’s new stream popped up.

toying with him was easy, but you too had needs, and were growing needy as well. you wanted him. so bad it almost hurt. and he was growing closer to finding out who you were since you couldn’t help but stare at him in class, lost in his beauty.

so, one day, you decided to make your move…

it was a sunny day, and you had opted to wear one of your best outfits, a white snug dress that laced up around your neck with golden sandals. your hair was up in a curly hairdo with little strands cupping your face and your makeup was done with a large eyeliner and glossy cherry lips. you looked amazing —like any other day— but you decided that today you wanted to notch it up one bit by applying your favorite scented body cream, repainting your toes and nails in white and spritzing your favorite and most precious perfume around your whole body.

then, you took your school purse and keys and left for the day.

you didn’t even need to find him, he came to you like as if god knew of your intentions. he looked pretty. with a blue shirt and tie, and brown trousers and shoes. preppy, nerdy, slim fingers sliding up the bridge of his nose his glasses. his hair was taimed, perfectly combed, and he was clinging onto his satchel like a little kid.

cute. you smiled and slowed your walking towards the class, so you could…

“oh. sorry. please go ahead.” he said as he almost bumped into you going pass the threshold and into the room.

you looked up at him and with a kind smile said. “thanks, pretty.” the last part was tinged in teasing, your lips curving more into a smirk now as you looked away and made your way inside, your perfume engulfing him as you passed by.

and he stood there, frozen. ‘cause not only a pretty girl had just called him pretty himself, but… “pretty”, what you always called him on streams and in your nightly chats. and that smirk…

he gulped. could it be? he looked inside and saw you watching him, curving your eyebrows as in ‘aren’t you gonna come inside?’

his feet moved alone, and before he could stop himself he was sitting right by your side.

“bold move, spencer.” you said, and he shook to the core.

spencer, spencer, spencer, spencer…

it was as if you were made to say his name.

“is it you?” he inquired, his eyes on your profile until you turned towards him with a playful frown.

“ ‘is it me’? who am i, spencer?” you were teasing him. of course you were. he gritted his teeth and clenched his fists on his thighs, his checks flushing, adam’s apple bobbing. he looked around, at the almost empty classroom. “what is it? you can’t say it?” he shook his head and you cooed. “aw, i thought better of you than this, spencer.”

he swallowed harshly and closed his eyes for a second before looking at you like a puppy.

“mommy.” he muttered and you smiled.

“good boy.” you praised him, and he had to swallow down a moan, it sounded better than he had imagined. you were better than he had imagined. you were beautiful, gorgeous, breathtaking… you surely knew how to take his breath away.

“why… why now? why are you telling me now?” he inquired and you hummed.

“you aren’t happy?”

“no! of course not, it’s not that! it’s just…” you understood.

“well i was growing tired and… i really wanted to play with you.” you pouted, and reached for his cheek, caressing it. spencer swallowed again, and gripped his satchel over his legs. you smirked. “what are you hiding, huh?”

“nothing.”

“spence…” you warned and his cheeks got impossibly red.

“you know.”

“yeah, i know. but i want you to say it.” his whole neck flushed and his lips trembled. “come on, be a good boy.” you purred.

“you made me hard.” he explained and you smirked.

“aw, that easy? baby… someone’s needy, hm?” your hand came into his hair, and he hummed, almost moaned as you scratched at his scalp.

“you… you left me.”

“what do you mean baby?” you played with the little hairs on his nape.

“you didn’t enter my streams.” you cooed once again.

“i know. did you miss me?” he nodded. “you did, huh? what did you do on those streams, hm? tell mommy.” god. you couldn’t talk about this things in public, but again, there were two more people in the class since it still was early, and they were on the furthest seats ever on the back chatting away. there’s no way they could hear you. his eyes trailed over to them anxiously and your other hand fell to his thigh. he almost jumped out of his seat. “spence.”

“i… i played with my toys.” he quivered.

“played with your toys, huh?” he nodded, hair falling to his pretty eyes. “what kind of toys?” he gulped when your hand started to move up his inner thigh and below his satchel.

“my… vibrators.” you hummed.

“and did you cum?” he nodded. “was it good?” he shook his head this time. “why not?” you were now drawing circles with your thumb on his thigh and he was stuttering.

“you weren’t there.” you almost melted at his pout. you would give him anything if he played that move on you, by your reaction, spencer knew, and he was gonna take it to his advantage. “i missed you so much mommy…” suddenly someone shouted in the back and startled you. it was a shriek of joy.

‘the class got cancelled!!’

‘are you joking?’

‘nuh-huh! god i’m gonna go back to my house and sleep the rest of the day.’

you could hear the other couple chatting as they quickly gathered their things and left from the back exists in a hurry to get back into their beds.

it was as if god loved you. how else could you have gotten spencer alone… with you?

spencer suddenly felt as if he were being stalked by a predator by how your eyes changed. your hand moved up… up… up… until you were cupping his erection, and he let out the prettiest whimper you’ve ever heard.

“god, you sound prettier than through the screen…” you sighed.

“mommy…”

“what is it baby?” you started to touch him from over his pants, with your hand measuring his length. he was big…

“we can’t… we’re at school…” he whined, although his hips thrusted against your touch in need for more.

“you don’t seem too sure about that.” you smirked. “you’re so pretty, the prettiest boy ever. you know how badly i wanted to enter those streams and see you? but no. i had to go slow with you. well i’m tired of going slow. aren’t you, spence?” he nodded.

“yes, yes, god…”

you pushed his satchel aside. “wanna see you.” he nodded once again, and with desperate fingers struggled to open his pants, pulling from his clothes so his cock would slip free. you clicked your tongue at the sight of his reddened tip. “baby… look at you. doesn’t it hurt?” he nodded.

“i just couldn’t help it…” he cried out. he had touched himself raw. “every time i thought about you…” he flushed. you understood.

“i can’t touch you like this, it’ll hurt you.” you cooed and his puppy eyes came back.

“no! please! it won’t hurt i promise! i’ll be good!” he begged, and you shook your head. “please mommy please…” you sighed.

“i can’t use my hands…” you said, but smirked, there were other ways to make him cum. and you were good at them. his eyes almost popped out of their spheres when you got on your knees in front of him.

“oh god…” he whispered at the sight and the implication of what you were about to do.

“i’m about to ruin my lipstick, so you better behave, hm?” he quickly nodded, desperately even.

“i’ll behave mommy, i promise.”

“good boy, pretty.” you said, and took him in your hand. he moaned, his head falling backwards on his seat. “baby… i haven’t even started yet.” you chuckled.

“sorry, it’s just… i’ve thought so much about this…” he bit down on his botton lip and you let out another chuckle.

“you’re so cute…” and with that your tongue swiped a stroke across his red and raw head. your lips curved at the whimper that fell from his lips and just how quickly his hand came to the top of your head. you licked clean the beads of precum there with a hum. “taste so good baby… better than i imagined.”

“keep praising me and i’ll cum.” he whined breathlessly and you laughed, pumping him slowly from his base before taking him into your mouth with a little moan.

him and his praise kink…

you loved the heady taste, how thick and large he was, and how warm he felt in your mouth.

he wouldn’t stop leaking, and you started to suck, slowly taking more and more of him in your mouth with the bobs of your head. you thanked this was a secluded area and 1. the doors were all closed and 2. there were no cameras, ‘cause spencer wasn’t good at keeping quiet, and you’d kill anyone who saw the pretty faces he was making right now as you fucked him with your mouth.

“mommy…” he moaned, his back arching as you sped up. “fuck. feels so good mommy, so good… thank you, fuck, thank you…” he praised you, and you felt your core getting wetter than it already was. you too had a praise kink after all.

his hips started to thrust up and your hands left him to go to his hips and push him down on his seat.

“sorry, sorry mommy…” he cried as you popped him out of your mouth and hissed a ‘stay put’ at him.

“you’re gonna be good and take it, aren’t you pretty?” he nodded. “that’s my good boy.” you went back at him, licking him from base to tip before taking him back down your throat.

“oh my god…” he was a mess. but he was your mess. he hissed when you gave special attention to his head, licking and sucking harshly. but the pain only made the whole experience better. he was a gentleman, pushing the little strands of hair out of your face, but he was getting lost on the feeling of his impending orgasm. “mommy, i’m gonna…”

“you’re gonna cum for me?” you asked as you pumped him. he nodded, his tongue peeking to wet his lips.

“yes, yes mommy…”

“where do you wanna cum, hm pretty?” you inquired, sucking on his head.

he blushed. “can i…?” he stopped, stuttering.

“come on baby, be good and use your big words.”

“can i cum in your mouth?” his puppy eyes were back, his adam’s apple bobbing. you smiled.

“you wanna cum in my mouth? wanna fill me up and watch me swallow it all?” you haunted him and he nodded. “how do we ask for it?”

“please mommy, please… can i?” you hummed in thought, just to tease him, before nodding.

“yes, you can, baby.” he moaned, and you went back to taking him back in your throat, down to the base, almost choking. the feeling of your throat closing around him making him whimper and thrash.

“ah-ah-ah!” he hiccuped, voice airy and the grip of his hand tightening on your hair. his cock twitching inside your mouth, and with one last suck, he couldn’t hold it anymore. he let go with a high-pitched whimper, his mouth falling open in a silent moan as his head fell back and his neck got exposed to your hungry eyes. you swallowed everything he gave you as you continued bobbing your head to extend his orgasm.

once down from it, you popped him out of your mouth, licking your lips clean.

you looked up at him to watch his chest rising and heaving in breathless puffs of air.

“are you okay baby?” you inquired him, and he mindlessly nodded. you had just sucked him braindead. “that good, huh?” you smirked, and he nodded.

“so good, mommy. thank you.”

“aw… so polite…” you got up from your knees, but not before putting him back in his briefs. “open up.” you patted his lips and he followed your orders. you spat into it and he moaned, happily swallowing. “good boy.”“tastes good?” he nodded. “does it hurt, baby?” you patted his chest, your noses touching.

“no, mommy.” he shook his head.

“still. you’ve gotta take care of yourself baby, how else am i gonna have fun with you, mh?” he nodded. he was still breathless and with a fuzzy mind. “no more touching until you’re all better, understood?”

“understood.”

“atta boy.”

later that day spencer posted on his twitter.

@ entersandman

@ entersandman; head so good i’d be losing mine

after that spencer really did lose his mind.

you were serious about the “no touching”, but this. this was pure torture.

not only he could remember every little thing about your head, but you just looked so good everyday at school, and your messages, and your pictures… god… he was going crazy.

he needed to touch himself but he was supposed to be a good boy, so he couldn’t.

@ entersandman

@ entersandman; i’m being a good boy i promise mommy

but he wanted to rub one out so badly…

“mommy…” he whimpered.

it was a late night friday. 2AM. and spencer was desperately and ridiculously grinding against his pillow. it had been a week since he had the feeling of your mouth around him. a whole week of teasing from your part. he was already healed. and so, oh so desperate.

he hadn’t cum in a week, and it was getting to his head. that’s how he found himself right were he was right now.

“that’s it baby, keep humping that pillow for me.”

you had been surprised by the incoming call. this late at night? it shouldn’t have been bad, but not spencer moaning and whimpering on the other end, what quickly turned you the fuck on.

“oh fuck…” he whined, his sweatpants being the perfect friction against his leaking cock.

“what are you thinking about, huh?”

“your mouth…” he sighed. “mommy please… let me touch myself, please…”

“mmmh… you sound so pretty begging for it, baby… it’s been long since you last did it, huh?”

“yes.” he whimpered.

“awww, poor baby.” you cooed and he groaned at the way his cock jumped. “you wanna touch yourself baby? you wanna cum?” he moaned as a positive. “but what if i want it for me, huh? all that pent up, heavy load of yours, hm?”

he almost came right that instant as he thrusted against the pillow.

“you want it?” he panted and you hummed. “where?”

“in my pussy.” spencer’s eyes rolled.

“oh my god.”

“so… are you sure you wanna waste it in your hand?”

“no, but…” he whined.

“but?”

“you’re not here…”

“so why don’t you come here?” his eyebrows perked up. “come to my place.”

“are you serious?” he questioned you, and you giggled.

“of course i am, it must have been so hard for you this week… you should come here and let me make you feel better.” you purred. he moaned.

“i’ll be there in 10 minutes.” he quickly babbled, and hung up.

you sent him your address as he quickly put on some clothes and took the keys to his car.

now you just had to wait.

“mmmph!” your mouth was on his as soon as he stepped through the door, tongue swiping his lower lip for entrance. what little of his erection had gone down in the way was quickly back as you pushed into his mouth.

“you taste so good…” you whispered against his lips, his hands on your hips as he kissed you once again, desperately.

“need you…” he whined, his cock throbbing against your belly.

“you do, huh?” he nodded. “how much?”

“so much…”

“yeah?” your fingers trailed down his jaw, and he shivered.

“yeah.” he whispered against your lips.

“then show me.” without needing to tell him twice, his hands shot up to the sides of your face, pulling him for the wettest and neediest kiss someone had ever given you. he was pouring everything he had on it, and you moaned, melting against him as he guided you backwards.

“room?” he hummed between kisses.

“to the right.” you answered and squeaked when his big hands came down to your thighs and pulled you up, making you surround his hips. the two of you groaned at the feeling of his erection against your pussy, and you rocked your hips to feel more.

“fuck.”

he quickly made his way into the room, never straying from your lips and softly placing you onto your bed.

“mommy.” he whispered against your jaw as he kissed his way down to your neck.

“yeah, baby?”

“wanna eat your pussy.” he whispered against your skin, and you shivered.

“yeah? you wanna eat my pussy, honey?”

“yes, please.” he begged and you groaned, nodding. he whimpered at just the thought, his hands quickly followed yours to your shorts, pulling them off along with your underwear as you moved up the bed and him; down, kissing at the exposed skin on your stomach. you groaned at the feeling. you had thought so much about this…

he kissed at the skin of your hip, nibbling and sucking as he made his way in between your legs, pulling them over his shoulders.

“you’re so beautiful…” he groaned at the sight of you all spread out for him and glistening… “god i just can’t wait.” he whispered before diving in and licking a fat stroke up your slit with a moan, whimpering when you did too and your hands made their way into his hair and tugged.

“oh god, spencer…” he ate you out like a man starved, sucking at your clit before going back down to your entrance and plunging his tongue inside to slurp out your juices.

“so good, mommy, you taste so good…” he moaned, licking his lips before going back at it. you pulled at his hair, messing it all up as you rocked your pussy against his tongue, riding his face and pulling him closer. he was even louder than you were as he licked everything up.

one of his fingers caressed your entrance and your hips canted upwards, moaning as he pushed it inside.

“fuck, pretty. you’re so good at this… fuck me with your fingers baby.” you ordered and he complied, starting with the one already inside, pumping it in and out as he suckled at your clit. “just like that, good boy.” he whimpered and added another, curling them to hit your g spot. he wanted to make you feel good. he needed the praise. his hips rocked against the mattress as he fucked you with his fingers and licked your clit. “atta boy, fuck, you’re gonna make me cum…” your back arched. “gonna give you this pussy baby. gonna make you a fucking mess. want your load inside of me, fuck, spencer, fuck!” you could feel yourself reaching it, getting closer and closer and closer… “yes, yes, yes!!!!” you used his face as with a final suck and curl of his fingers you fell apart, your eyes rolling back. he moaned when he felt you squeezing his fingers, fucking you through it.

once you came down, he licked you clean. sucking his fingers inside his mouth with a moan.

“come here.” you ordered, pulling from his tee-shirt until he was in between your legs. “you did so good baby… ate me out so good…” you praised him, and he sighed, smiling. “now give me a taste, will you?” you purred, pulling down his bottom lip to open up his mouth as you guided him to yours, kissing him hungrily as you took off his top.

he whimpered, his tongue dancing with your own as you rolled the two of you over and sitting on his lap. “fuuuuck…” he moaned when you started to roll your hips against his.

“you’re so hard…” you bit down on your bottom lip, discarding your shirt. his eyes widened at the sight of your naked and exposed chest, his hands quickly going to your breasts and thumbs rolling your nipples. “i want you now.” you smirked, and he nodded, helping you get rid of the last piece of clothing that was on him, since he wasn’t wearing any underwear. “no underwear? someone came ready…” you smirked and he whined, being cut off by his own moan when your pussy made contact with his cock. your lips engulfed his length as you rocked your hips, lubing him up.

“you’re killing me.” he cried out, his dick twitching, head dribbling with precum.

“shhh… let me make you feel better, pretty.” you kissed his lips, taking him in your hand as you rose your hips and guided him to your entrance. “gonna fuck you so good spence… you’ll forget your own name.” you promised before you slowly sank down on him.

and spencer knew you were telling the truth, ‘cause just with the tip inside, his mind was blank.

“oh god, oh my god, jesus christ, fuck, shit…” you wanted to laugh at the indecent amount of words that were stumbling past his lips.

“aw come on baby, already?” you smirked. “it’s just the tip.” his hands were on your hips, fingertips pressing against your supple skin. “are you sure can you handle it?” you inquired but he didn’t answer, moaning as you lowered yourself just the slightest amount, taking another inch. “spencer.” you harshly called out his name.

“yes?” he dazedly replied, chest heaving, cheeks flushed. you could eat him up.

“i said. can. you. handle it?”

“yesyesyes, please mommy. i can. i promise.”

“good. don’t you dare cum until i tell you to.” you ordered before taking all of him in in a quick movement. his eyes rolled backwards and from his mouth erupted the most beautiful whimper you’ve ever heard.

“oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…”

“sure, if you wanna call me that.” you shrugged, a smug smile on your lips as you started rolling your hips to adjust to his girth. “fuck, you’re stretching me out so good baby, so fucking big… a pretty boy with a pretty and big cock, you have it all don’t you?” he moaned, nodding at your words even if he hadn’t really processed them. he was trying his best not to burst.

come on, he hadn’t come in a week. a week in which you hadn’t stopped edging him. you had to know what you were doing to him. you just had to.

“don’t move, please.” he muttered, his dick twitching, he was gonna cum so hard.

“we haven’t even started yet…” you sighed, and he pouted. he wanted to make you feel good, but you had this effect on him in which he could cum with just one single touch. “i thought you could handle it…”

“i can! it’s just…” he saw you smirk. “god… you know what you do to me, you know.” you puckered your lips as you leaned closer to his own.

“that i drive you crazy?” you rolled your hips and he moaned, his grip tightening. “oh i know darling, i can feel it…” you whispered against his ear before your lips latched to his neck and your hips started to slightly move.

“you’re killing me.” he whimpered, and you hummed, sucking a pretty mark where you knew he wouldn’t be able to hide it. “don’t stop.” his hands wandered to your ass and helped you move more, slowly riding his cock.

you moaned when his tip kissed your cervix.

“fuck baby you’re so deep, can’t wait to feel you pump me full.” he moaned, and his hips subconsciously pumped upwards, making you laugh, although you almost squeaked. “oh you liked that, huh? like the idea or your cum inside me, pretty?” he nodded.

“yes, fuck, yes. want it all deep inside your pussy mommy.” you moaned, moving harder. the squelches of your wetness around his dick moving in and out of you filled your room, only turning the two of you more.

“yeah baby? want me round and pretty for you?” the idea almost made him cum and you noticed. one of your hands surrounded his neck. “answer me, baby.”

“yes,yes,yes.”

“good boy.” you started to ride him in earnest. his eyes fell to your jumping breasts and then his hands followed, rolling your nipples to stimulate you. your back arched. “that’s it, touch me pretty, touch my tits.” your hand tightened around his neck and his hips stuttered against yours. “you like it, hm? like my hand around your neck baby?” he nodded.

“harder.” he begged and your smile got wider.

“atta boy.” you complied and his moans increased in volume. “that’s it pretty, let me hear you.”

“mommy…” he whimpered. “i can’t, it feels so good…!”

“don’t you dare. i’ve just started playing with you.” he whined, but nodded, his muscles tensing as you went faster, your own moans spilling into the room. “fuck, such a good cock. love it. love your cock baby.” you praised him, and you felt it twitch. he rose to hold you, his hands back on your ass to drive you harder down on his cock until his tip was breaching your cervix and your eyes were rolling back.

you wouldn’t let him cum? fine. then he’ll make you cum first.

his mouth latched to your right nipple as his hips snapped up against yours.

“spencer!” you screamed in ecstasy.

“mommy, fuck, mommy.” he panted against your chest, moaning against your skin before his tongue would circle your nipples and suck.

“don’t stop. don’t stop, just like that.” you were surprised at his sudden change, but you weren’t gonna complain, not when he was fucking the lights out of you.

“it was made for me, mommy. your pussy was made for me. it takes me so good…” he was babbling, whimpering as you tugged on his hair. the two of you moved messily, taking from the other, giving at the same time. desperate. hungry. it was as if you two were in heat, lost on each other.

“fuck baby, i’m gonna cum. gonna cum all over your pretty cock.” you moaned, and he went harder, one of his hands surrounding your waist to keep you in place for his incessant thrusts and the other moving to your clit, drawing circles on it to push you closer. “fuck,fuck,fuck!!!!!” you screamed, your back arching as with a couple more thrusts your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, clenching down hard on his dick.

spencer whimpered, driving into you over and over again to fuck you through it, begging like crazy during it. “please mommy, can i cum? can i cum now? please let me cum, let me fill you up mommy.”

“yes pretty yes, fuck my pussy, pump me full of your cum. i want it in my womb.” his hips stuttered and with, one, two, three more pumps he was burying himself impossibly deeper, breaching your cervix and spilling into your womb with a moan.

you two continued to rock against the other to ride the high down until all that was left was pure bliss. you two flopped down against the bed, you on top of him as you tried catching your breaths.

“uh…” he tried, clearing his throat. he was out of words.

“yeah.” you nodded. “that was…”

“yeah.” he copied you. “wanna go again?” he asked after a beat, too eager to make you feel good again.

“yeah.” you muttered before devouring his lips.

[…]

months passed, and spencer was once again on one of his lives, shirtless, his stomach tied up in knots in nervousness. his adam’s apple bobber, his breath hitched as your fingers scratched his neck.

“hey you all, i have a surprise for you.” he said before an unknown figure slowly joined him on his bed, completely clad in lingerie. “this… is my girlfriend, and today… she’ll be joining me.” he stuttered as you pressed wet kisses to his neck and jaw.

“ready, pretty?” you inquired him, kissing his lips. and he nodded, puppy eyes staring at you. “good. cause i’m gonna fuck you dumb. and they are all gonna watch.”

@ entersandman has started a live!

your whole body thrummed at the notification, your thumb quickly pinching on it to open the app, your hungry eyes ranking over the supple soft skin of his toned chest and abdomen.

@ pin_klily; god

@ yourprettyprincess233; i’m so early!!!!!

@ idealisticashee77; so hotttt

your eyes scanned the upcoming and flowing comment section of the stream, your fingers quickly typing to receive the protagonist of your wet dreams.

@ puredoll; hi pretty boy

his hand was slowly caressing his growing erection from over his clothes, and his sultry voice filled your ears, making you squirm.

“hey, doll.” you could hear the hint of a smirk on his tone.

you bit down on your lip.

@ puredoll; missed me?

he hummed, squeezing his crotch with his veiny hand. “missed you so much, baby. you weren’t here the last time.” you could almost see him pouting. cute.

you smiled. he always made time for you, it was as if you two knew each other. by the longest time, you had been following his socials, and had become part of his only fans. you had bumped with his account two years ago, and since then you’d been completely hooked. you could still remember the post that caught your attention.

@ entersandman

@ entersandman; would you play with me? i promise i’ll be a good boy.

you weren’t very fond of porn, you barely watched it, but once you entered on his twitter and saw the little snippets of his only fans that he’d post to gain more followers… it was over for you. you didn’t even know you were into more submissive men, always having been the submissive one in your sexual encounters, but once you heard him moaning and begging for more to the camera, completely at the mercy of his watchers, so pliant and responsive… you became obsessed.

you had never bought something as fast as you had bought the membership for his only fans.

he was just so… special somehow. his voice so beautiful, even more when he’d whimper and moan to the camera. and the content was so good…

it honestly made your day to come back home to pictures of him.

@ entersandman

@ entersandman; take my clothes off? yes ma’am.

that or his simple comments, like;

@ entersandman; feeling so needy right now. can i bury my face on your pussy, mommy?

he really knew how to get a rise out of you.

@ puredoll; sorry pretty, i was busy. but i never stopped thinking about you…

his hand squeezed his cock once again and a little sound escaped his throat.

“you thought about me?” his breathy voice came through and your thighs squeezed against the other. he sounded surprised, and happy, glad even. as if he thought about you just as much as you thought about him, which was not possible.

@ delicioussin; take the pants off +50$

@ helplesswhore; i wanna see your cock +100$

@ secretiveloveee; play with us

@ puredoll; you see that, baby? they’re waiting for you. why don’t you give them a show?

spencer groaned, his eyes squeezing shut, he couldn’t help the jumping of his dick, not when you talked to him like that.

“should i take this off?” he tugged at his pants, and the chat went crazy, money flowing in, and he chuckled. “alright, alright…” his slim fingers easily snapped open the button, and pulled down the zipper, pushing his pants just the slightest down to show the streamers the sight of his fully erect dick and the stain of precum surrounding his tip.

@ puredoll; haven’t touched yourself and you’re already dripping, so cute…

spencer couldn’t swallow down the moan that left his throat, his cock twitching in need for his hand. he cupped it once again, his length clear as day through the flimsy material. he was big. really big.

“you see this? look what you do to me…”

you moaned at the neediness of his tone, your heart skipping a beat when he pleaded with a “can i take them off?”

@ kittypurr555; get rid of them +100$

@ morppheus_2; show us your pretty dick +100$

@ needyneedyneedy; god he’s so hard!!! +150$

@ uttermostlust; i’m salivating +50$

@ puredoll; so good at asking for permission baby… go ahead, show mommy

he whimpered. and god, you’ve missed that sound so much. fucking finals. fucking school… one of your hands came down to your chest to pinch your nipples as he quickly pushed down his underwear under his balls in between ‘thank you, thank you, thank you’’s. they looked so full. and he was so fucking hard… what you’d do to have him in your mouth…

@ p0rnlover5663; +200$

@ babybluebaby; +150$

@ ashtonishingstamina69; +100$

your tongue licked your lips as you took in the sight of his reddish pretty tip, beaded with precum, the veins that decorated his shaft and the little curls at his base.

a whine left spencer’s lips when his hand wrapped around his cock. “mommy… i’m so hard…” you sighed, smirking at his neediness and tone. gently laughing at the lustful comments in the chat, you typed your response.

@ puredoll; i can see that baby, why don’t you fuck your hand for me, hm?

“fuck…” he moaned as he quickly followed your order, his hand slowly pumping his cock as his chest quickly increased in breaths. his back slightly arched, and his free hand harshly gripped the arm of the chair, knuckles turning white.

@ puredoll; that’s it, you’re doing perfect, pretty. tell me how good it feels

“it feels so good mommy… so good…” he moaned. money was easily flowing into his account, the chat increasing in thirsty comments. “i wish it were your hand, your mouth…” he was begging as he sped up. the hand that was touching your breasts came down underneath your panties, finding yourself soaked through. you moaned as you started drawing little circles on your puffy throbbing clit. “i need you mommy.”

your eyes squeezed shut, your teeth capturing your bottom lip in a vice grip. you could draw blood if you wanted to. your hips bucked against your own hand when another whimper came through the screen. “fuck.” he looked so pretty, his neck (the last thing you could see, since his face was out of frame) and chest were flushed, lungs quickly taking in air as his hand worked his cock, his thumb gliding against his slit in little circles.

“see this? this is how i’d touch your pretty clit, mommy, would make you feel so good…” your eyes rolled at his breathy whine. jesus christ.

@ purringkitty7; my godddd +50$

@ allsheeatsisdickk; i’m literally dripping +50$

@ itsbonercl0ck; +100$

“would you like that mommy? or would you prefer to have my mouth? fill it with your cum over and over again? suffocate me with your pussy and use me?” you moaned, topping with your non dominant hand –since the other was busy plunging two fingers inside your gaping hole-. “please use me mommy, i want you to use me…”

@ puredoll; such a fucking dirty mouth, baby… i bet you’d love that, huh? to be my little toy… beg for it.

spencer moaned, his cock jumping in his hand. his adam’s apple bobbed right before he went ahead and complied.

“please mommy… can i be your toy? please let me be your toy mommy, please… i need it. need to be your pretty toy.”

your fingers curled against your g spot as his words made you moan and clench.

@ puredoll; good boy, baby, such a good little toy for me

spencer cursed, his pace around his throbbing and leaking dick increasing. you smirked.

@ puredoll; slow down… they want to see…

spencer whined but followed the order, deciding to play with his balls instead, showing off the length of his cock with light grasps and jerks of his hand, making it bob and slap against his lower stomach, precum staining his porcelain skin.

spencer was biting down on his bottom lip harshly, his dick twitching in need of release. his hazel eyes trailed along the comments and donations. looking for you. for directions.

@ puredoll; good boy… is all of that for me?

he moaned. “it’s all for you mommy, all for you.” he went back to slowly pumping himself. you fucked yourself at the same pace. “are you touching yourself for me, mommy? am i making you feel good?”

you could almost scream in ecstasy. why did he have to sound like that?

@ puredoll; so good baby, so good…

to that he whimpered, his hand moving faster. just the thought of you touching yourself because of him, of how he sounded and looked, making his mind dizzy and the pressure building in his lower stomach to grow faster than before.

“mommy i’m so close… i can’t hold it.” he whined, his hand going impossibly faster. “can i cum? please can i cum? wanna cum inside of you mommy, wanna fill you up, please…” those words brought you closer to your own orgasm, moans spilling from your lips as your finger curled against your g spot over and over again.

@ iseered633; so hot +100$

@ bestgirlint00wn; fuckkkkk +150$

@ octoberween666; +50$

@ punkypurr; +60$

he kept begging, whining, moaning, whimpering… until he saw it.

@ puredoll; cum.

it was immediate, instant, hot white and creamy spurts of cum coating his hand and reaching up to his chest as he became a babbling whimpering mess for you, his eyes rolling back as his hips fucked into his hand needily.

your orgasm hit you just as fast, triggered by the sight and sound of him coming undone. your back arched as your fingers kept thrusting, curling, fucking you dumb.

both of you rode your highs until there was nothing left.

you watched as spencer laid there, cock still twitching slightly against a pool of cum on his stomach, his chest heaving as he tried to found his breath.

@ puredoll; good job baby, looked so pretty coming for me

“thank you mommy.” he flushed, as always, feeling conscious of his disarray and state in front of the camera. “thank you for coming, i’ll see you next time.” and with that, he ended the live.

spencer posted hours later on his twitter.

@ entersandman

@ entersandman; i see your name and i go crazy

it was another boring day at school. philosophy classes were really kicking your ass.

the professor had gone on a tangent of rambles to which you could not keep up with. that was until he took a deep breath and questioned.

“so, can anybody tell me if abstract concepts, like numbers, really exist?”

someone, someone you hadn’t seen before in your class, which was pretty weird, rose his hand. you couldn’t see much, except for brown hair and his back, clothed in a white shirt.

“yes?”

“from a platonist perspective, abstract concepts exist in a non-physical realm of forms, accessible through intellect and reason. in contrast, nominalists argue that these concepts are mere human constructs without independent existence.”

that voice.

your whole body tensed, your eyes widening and breath hitching. you could recognize that voice anywhere.

entersandman.

“correct, …?” the teacher paused, awaiting for a name.

“oh, reid. spencer reid.”

your heart was about to beat out of your chest. quickly after the class was dismissed since it had come to an end. you were fast at getting out of there to take a look at him.

casual. be casual.

just one glimpse.

but when he left that class and walked into the corridor your eyes couldn’t leave his face. his perfect face.

your heart almost stopped then. hazel eyes, messy curly hair, small nose, pink full lips and high sharp cheek bones. you were fucked.

you could perfectly be gaping like a fish right now, drooling even. he was handsome, pretty, attractive, hot, everything. he was everything. and he was so tall…

you almost moaned when he passed by your side and could smell his cologne.

god…

you could feel yourself getting wet already.

you turned to see him walk away to what you supposed would be his next class. he was here. entersandman was just meters away from you, in the flesh. he was real.

but he didn’t know you knew. he didn’t know who you were. he didn’t know you were the girl that had made him come many times, on and off camera.

but you were gonna let him know.

you had a plan.

that night you came home to more posts coming from spencer.

@ entersandman; thinking about you tying me up with my tie, using me to get off, mommy. want to be your boy toy so badly… can’t stop thinking about your lips on my neck, leaving marks that won’t go away as you take all you want from me.

@ entersandman

@ entersandman; i’ll beg if i have to, baby, i just wanna be in between your thighs

you smirked, your mouth salivating at the sight. so needy…

time to move. you opened his profile and pinched on the message option.

you thought for a minute before typing the decided words and hitting sent.

@ puredoll

somebody’s needy today, aren’t you spencer?

spencer was busy reading his assignments for university when his phone buzzed, a new message notification. his eyes widened when he read your username, fingers scrambling to quickly type his password, unlock his phone and get into the app. but all blood drained from his face when he read what you had written him, more specifically his name.

how did you know it? how did you know him? how?!

you chuckle as the minutes pass and he doesn’t answer.

@ puredoll

cat got your tongue baby?

what a pity, you know i love it when you’re loud

@ entersandman

how do you know?

he bit down anxiously on his bottom lip, his heart was about to burst out of his chest.

@ puredoll

so dry… you hurt me baby, thought you’d be happy to talk with me

@ entersandman

i am, it’s just…

@ puredoll

for all that matters, i’ve gotta say that you’re prettier than i thought, with those puppy eyes of yours and big brain. got me so horny in class…

spencer’s cheeks reddened, his heartbeat loud on his ears, his whole body flushing and cock jumping in his briefs. something about having gotten caught by someone, by you, made his mind fuzzy and his desire stir.

so you’re in his class? which one?

@ puredoll

so quiet… what’s on your mind, hm?

@ entersandman

sorry, so you know who i am

@ puredoll

i do

he swallowed.

@ puredoll

such a dirty boy… going to school by day, stroking your cock for the internet by night.

he groaned, feeling his cock stir.

@ puredoll

and i bet you love it, huh? love the attention. my attention.

@ entersandman

yes

@ puredoll

yes what?

he moaned, biting his lip.

@ entersandman

yes, mommy.

@ puredoll

good boy, spencer.

holy fuck. he could come just by the sound of you calling him by his name. one of his hands came down to his hard dick, squeezing, his lip harshly bit in between his teeth.

@ puredoll

you’re quiet…are you touching that pretty cock of yours for me, baby?

@ enteresandman

fuck. yes, mommy.

@ puredoll

so dirty… let me see.

spencer groaned and quickly followed your orders, opening the camera and hitting the record button, showing you the imprint of his hard cock from underneath his flimsy pajama pants as he stroked it.

@ puredoll

someone’s needy, mh? who are you this hard for, huh baby?

@ entersandman

you mommy, only you.

@ puredoll

yet you have so many clothes on… why don’t you take them off for mommy, huh?

@ entersandman

like this?

he sent you a pic of his completely nude body, and you bit down on your lip.

@ puredoll

exactly like that baby, now go ahead and use your hand

and he did, making sure to show the length of his cock to the camera as he slowly pumped it, whimpering curses and begging for you. yet this time, his face could be seen, eyebrows scrunched, jaw slack as moans spilled out and puppy brown eyes shining with lust.

@ puredoll

so fucking pretty… fuck spencer.

your thighs pushed together as your cunt quickly slicked up.

@ entersandman

please… can i go faster mommy?

@ puredoll

yes baby, go ahead

he moaned and once again pressed record as he sped up, stopping every now and then to play with his balls before going back to stroking the leaking head of his cock.

‘look what you do to me.’ he muttered to the camera, voice sultry and raw.

one of your hands came down towards your pussy, your hand cupping it from over your clothes as a groan left your lips.

@ entersandman

wishing it were your hand, mommy.

@ puredoll

you’re driving me crazy…

@ entersandman

have been thinking about you… want to make you feel good, want to make you cum

@ puredoll

yeah?

@ entersandman

yes…

your hand pushed into your pants and panties, sighing when you felt how wet you were.

@ puredoll

i’m so wet for you, you always get me like this…

spencer moaned, the image of you touching yourself for him driving him crazy, his hips thrusting up into his hand.

@ entersandman

fuck, doll…

you quickly pushed your clothes down, exposing your drenched cunt to the air, your fingers sliding easily through your folds before stopping over your clit and drawing tight circles that made your thighs shake and your back arch.

@ puredoll

you want to see?

@ entersandman

yes please, please mommy…

you smirked and hit record, pointing the camera in between your legs, filming how you touched yourself for him, letting out little sighs and moans before plunging your fingers inside yourself and curling them to hit your g spot.

spencer couldn’t handle it. the sight, your sounds and the fact that this was you, the girl he had been fantasizing about for months on end, touching herself for him, pushed him straight to the edge.

he came so hard his load hit his chest as he moaned loudly. he shakily recorded the remains of his spurts with whimpers as he made a mess of himself and his hand.

and when you returned the favor with a video of your own release, creamy cum surrounding and dripping from your fingers, he knew he had to have you.

and soon.