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goaskangel · 2 months ago

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pussy job w perv!toji and his sweet virgin gf !

cw :: overstim, slight dubcon, use of 'kid', sexy pussyjob !!!!

toji holds you through the night like you’ll slip right out of his hands if he even thinks about letting go. he loves ending the day with you spooning in bed beside him. either facing him so he can kiss your pretty face to sleep, and feel the way your tits press up nicely on his body through your thin tank top. maybe you're facing away with your body snug up against him so he can smell the aromatic scent of your shampoo and lotions, and how your ass pushes back on him subconsciously.

he cannot get enough of it, seriously. especially when you're so willing to take this time to let him touch you.

you’re comfortably laying in your dimly lit bedroom with toji assaulting your neck with quick pecks, taking your tied up hair and exposed skin to his advantage. he’ll stop when your fit of giggles turn into small slaps on his arm that’s curled around you.

“can’t help myself, baby,” stroking that hand on your soft jaw, “you’re just too pretty.”

you turn to face him and snuggle up, your face rubbing perfectly on his chest. warming up on him like a cat, your hands finding their place rubbing his stomach. you can’t help but think he’s so perfect like this, domestic and resting in a shirt he’l take off later in the night and plain boxers. he sighs when you plant kisses on his clothed chest.

you look up to him and scoot up to kiss him, toji’s hands coming to keep your head straight as he practically kisses all the breath from your lungs. keeping a steady pace before you squeeze the sides of his body. he pulls away just inches away from your face and slowly turns you to your back, his big body hovering right over you.

“now? toji—”

“mhmm. told you, can’t help myself, pretty.” digging back in your neck, he takes deep inhales of your sweet scent before lapping like a dog. the heavy breathes he takes and the groans he lets out, god, the feeling of his wet tongue licking at some of your most sensitive spots makes your virgin cunt spill excessively behind your panties.

“toji—”

“i’m getting there, kid, don’t worry.” he presses a couple of softer kisses on your blushing face and hooks his fingers on the band of your panties. he tosses them and admires your slick little cunt in the dim light he has before running fingertips gently from your puffy clit to your soppy hole. he leans down a bit and spits obscenely at your waterfall of a pussy, chuckling to himself at the vulgarity. you almost whine at him while bucking your hips before he holds you down and interrupts,

“trying somethin’ new. trust me, alright doll?”

you nod and watch him toss his shirt, the slight weight gain he’s putting on hypnotizes you. a good amount of pudge sitting at his lower stomach with more on his arms and thighs. hell, if he decided to fuck you now, you couldn’t complain. he discards the boxers as well, giving himself a few strokes as he places wet kisses on your twitchy clit before kissing your face again. distracting you from feeling the hefty weight of his cock—a sudden weight you couldn’t ignore—slipped right between your folds.

“mmm! oh god..” whimpering right into his mouth as he whispers gentle praises right back, kissing you softly as he moves his hips slightly, just to feel the precious perfection of your cunt. until you start moaning longingly, he keeps a steady pace and finally speeds up.

he grinds his cock between your puffy folds, coated and drooling with slick and saliva. groaning occasionally when the underside of his tip rubs on your hot, hot clit, stimulating both of you.

“feel good, huh, baby? ‘m right there—fuuck, just a little more and i could be right inside you. mhmmhm, and jus’ fuck your little virgin cunt,” he fucking laughs when you shake your head, “no? you don’t want your boyfriend to finally fuck through your cute pussy, huh? but you’re so fucking wet, dolly. your sweet cunt’s jus’ asking for it.”

he leans back and teases your entrance, which is fluttering at just the thought of him pressing in. totally raw and unprotected deflowering because he just couldn’t help himself, you moan out and squeeze his arm when he rocks to catch the tip of his thick cock to your needy virgin hole. tears swell in your pretty eyes, either upset that he’s teasing you about this or maybe because you just wanna come. he gets this instantly and kisses your heated forehead, holding his heavy cock down with his thumb and rubs continuously on your clit.

the chubby, raw bud burning with excitement as you roll your hips to achieve more of that sensation, your fingers digging into your man’s buff shoulders as he makes you both climax. hot ropes of semen coming undone on your clit and mound, maybe next time he’ll get oh-so lucky ^3^

OUHHHH MAYBE NEXT PART IS THEEE PART

read part one, two, and three!

taglist : @tojisfourthbiatchoftheweek@booboobear-12@anthy-jay-ander@euhphoq@duooy@imnotlurkingherepls@satorusprites@kaypinkess@hisarmsaremycocoon@idkk9@channnee@chjinua@thatbitch4u@samisfunky@viluvs-u@doeeyestoji@sxwgal0

masterlist

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rafey-baby · 7 months ago

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trinket

rafe thinks his maid is just the sweetest little thing...

prince!rafe x maid!reader

c/w: rafe being a menace, him flirting (?) w her, some royal cameron family angst ig, brief descriptions of him having sex w another woman, 18+ mdni!

wc: 2.3k

also this is by no means historically accurate which is why i’m not gonna name any specific era for this xx

moodboard & introduction

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Every mid-December, the palace comes alive in an entirely novel way with the bustling preparations for the annual winter ball that the king and queen host to celebrate ‘another wonderful year’.

The once quiet and calm castle transforms into something colorful and vivid with the mouthwatering smell of cakes and pastries cooking in the ovens of the royal kitchen, along with maids and other servants whirling around the long hallways as they place intricate decorations and shiny ribbons all over the broad staircases and windows.

She’s grateful she doesn’t have to partake in the hustle and bustle all that much since her primary duties include taking care of the prince and ensuring he has everything and anything he could possibly need.

Although right now, she sort of wishes she could be stringing up polished ornaments or garnishing elegant baked goods because apparently, being the prince’s personal maid sometimes means sitting quietly in his bedchambers (as per his request to keep him company while he’s reading) with her own thoughts and the sounds outside the door her only source of entertainment.

Therefore, she’s elated when he suddenly turns to face her in his armchair— flitting his eyes over to her from the hefty book that seems to have made him exasperated rather than enthralled.

“Will you join me for a walk? All this noise is makin’ m’head hurt.”

There’s enthusiasm in the nod of her head; a yearning to see the fresh layer of snow covering the trees and painting the entire kingdom with its powdery whiteness— the aftermath of last night’s blizzard. She doesn’t think there’s anything more beautiful than the crystalline snowfall glittering under the touch of the afternoon sun— or maybe a certain pair of aquamarine eyes, but that’s beside the point.

“That would be my pleasure, Your Highness,” she easily agrees.

“How many times do I have to tell you how much I despise that name? There’s no need to use it when s’just me,” he scolds her before he’s straightening up and stretching out his arms over his head.

“My apologies, it’s a habit,” she rises to her feet as well; trying her hardest not to let her eyes linger on the sliver of his stomach peeking out from underneath the silky fabric of his shirt.

“I don’t want your apologies, want you to use my name,” he says before stepping closer— standing tall before her and forcing her to blink up at him in order to meet his eyes. “Go on, sweetheart, say it,” he practically orders; eager eyes fixed on her face.

She hesitates under the sudden attention. He’s always seemed so fascinated by her and she doesn’t know why.

“Um…Rafe.”

He lets out a hum of approval. “That’s good. You ready to leave?”

“Y— yes, uh, Rafe.”

“Good job. Not so difficult, is it?” he coos at her almost mockingly— fingertips grazing the skin of her cheek when he tucks a loose tendril of hair back behind her ear.

She merely shakes her head— a warmth dusting over the apples of her cheeks when his touch lingers on the side of her face afterwards. And for a moment, she thinks she’s going to drown in the lagoons of his eyes, but then he clears his throat and offers the palm of his hand for her to take.

And it’s rather unusual for someone of his status to do; a prince who’s bound to wear the crown one day holding his maid’s hand isn’t exactly something that’s written in any book regarding the royal etiquette. However, he’s never been one to allow for dreadful rules and traditions to dictate his behavior, especially not towards her.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Are you looking forward to the winter ball?” she asks when they stop by the stables to check up on his horse, Jupiter.

“You know I hate dancin’,” he mutters out as he watches its teeth grind on the carrot he brought with him.

She smiles because she does know, before letting out a wistful sigh. “I wish I could attend.”

“You do? Why?” he’s perplexed by her enthusiasm towards something he considers as more tedious than anything— having to plaster on a smile for an entire night and socialize with people he doesn’t necessarily care for in order to humor his father never being something he’s particularly taken delight in.

Especially when Sarah is going to be the one receiving all of their father’s attention anyway. Not that he cares (he does) but he would appreciate it, if for once in his life, his old man would show him even an ounce of the care he seems to so easily shower his sisters in.

“Well, I’d love to wear a ball gown, but mostly for the food,” her feather-light voice brings him back to the moment.

“I’ll make sure to bring you a plate ‘n you can eat it in my room then, yeah?” he promises as he runs his fingers through Jupiter’s black main.

“You would do that?”

“If you promise not to tell the other maids or they’re gonna accuse you of gettin’ special treatment,” his tone is playful.

“They already do that,” she points out. “They think we spend too much time together.”

“And what do you think?” he asks, genuinely curious.

“I don’t mind. I quite enjoy your company,” she answers truthfully. After all, she has grown quite fond of Rafe throughout the years. Sometimes she just wishes he wasn’t so overwhelming, in every sense of the word.

“Yeah?” a smirk pulls at the side of his mouth, seemingly pleased with her answer.

She’s certain he’s well aware of the effect he has on her— the effect he has on everyone. And she thinks that he enjoys it; relishes in toying with her for his own amusement simply because he can. He can practically do anything he wants since his father is oftentimes gone for long periods of time; fulfilling his duties for the kingdom and whatnot.

And she knows Rafe doesn’t particularly mind the fact that his father is rarely home because he’s always been hard on him, much harder than on his sisters because whether he likes it or not, he’s set off to be the new king one day. And his reputation of having female guests over more often than not whenever his father is away doesn’t necessarily help with gaining his approval.

After all, rumor travels fast around the palace.

Rafe once admitted to her that he often felt like a disappointment, and that the pressure of everyone’s expectations sometimes made him wish he was nothing more than a stableman. After all, he does get along with horses better than he ever has with his family— it’s not exactly a secret amongst the royal court.

“Would you wanna go for a ride with me? Think Jupiter’s gettin’ bored,” he suddenly asks.

“Oh, I would love to but I’ve never, um, ridden a horse before,” she timidly admits.

“No? You wanna know how it feels? You could jus’ sit behind me, don’t need to do anythin’, yeah?” he coaxes her to say yes with a seemingly sincere smile; already walking Jupiter out of its stable and leaving her no choice but to follow them outside.

“Really?” the frosty air causes a shiver to crawl up her spine when she eyes him, hesitant.

“Mhm. Promise nothing’s gonna happen, I’ll take care of you. ‘N I know you’ll like it, s’very freeing,” he assures her as he’s already saddling up the horse, seemingly aware that she could never refuse him of anything.

“Okay...if you insist,” she tentatively agrees with a nod that he rewards with a beaming grin; the icy snowflakes sticking to his hair making him look like something straight out of a fairy tale.

Then, he’s lifting her up to straddle the entirely too big of an animal that sort of still scares her— strong hands gripping onto her hips and leaving her momentarily starstruck at how effortlessly he does it; as if she weighs nothing more than the carrot Jupiter was just chewing on.

He follows soon after, settling down in front of her with ease before looking at her over his shoulder. “Need you to hold onto me unless you wanna fall,” he instructs, seemingly reveling in the fact that he gets to be the one teaching her something new.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” she says, gingerly setting her hands on his waist, movements uncertain.

“Gonna need you to hold on tighter, promise I won’t bite,” he huffs out a laugh before he’s grabbing her arms and wrapping them around his middle more firmly— forcing her to fully lean against his back when the sudden clip-clopping of Jupiter’s hooves against the snow-covered cobblestone causes her to let out a surprised shriek.

“Good?” he asks, seemingly amused at the way she’s practically clutching onto him as the cottony snow prances around them.

She manages out a hum, wondering if he can hear her poor heart loudly thumping in her ribcage when he decides to pick up the speed some more, as if she wasn’t already terrified.

“Rafe! Can you slow down?” she squeaks out when Jupiter seems to only accelerate further underneath them.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he lets out a hearty chuckle in response, apparently finding amusement in her utterly frightened state while she wonders why she let herself think for even one second that he had pure intentions.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Y/N? Will you go look for my son? I fear he’s once again escaped his responsibilities to God knows where,” the king requests with an exasperated sigh while she’s crouching down and helping a servant clean up the sharp pieces of a shattered wine glass— the sound of laughter and dancing flourishing around them.

And she could swear she saw Rafe conversing with a guest only a few short moments ago. However, as she looks around in an attempt to locate the missing prince, he’s nowhere to be found.

“Right away, Your Majesty,” she’s quick to answer with a polite smile.

“Thank you,” he nods gratefully, seemingly fed up with his son already.

She ensures that the poor girl who accidentally cut her finger on the broken shards is not going to faint before tiptoeing up the broad flight of stairs in order to reach the higher levels of the palace— the loud music and blooming celebrations echoing around the halls.

“Your Highness? Are you in there?” she knocks softly on the mahogany door leading to his bedroom.

However, she isn’t granted a response.

“Rafe?” she tries once more before pressing her ear against the wood separating her from the muffled sounds she can now hear from the other side— brows furrowing when something akin to a whimper reaches her ears.

It sounds nothing like Rafe; it has a higher pitch, something more feminine than his usual drawl. And as she stands there, contemplating whether something is wrong or if she should just leave, the volume only amplifies.

And in a moment of cloudy judgement, she finds herself pushing down on the handle.

However, she curses her curiosity the moment the door cracks open and she’s faced with the view of some woman’s naked back. Her long, beautiful hair reminds her of lady Lydia (a daughter of one of the dukes invited to the ball) with none other than the prince himself underneath her sweaty form.

The sheets that she changed this morning are crumpled and creased around them and without the barrier of the door, she can now hear Rafe’s low grunts as well— can see how his big hands guide her movements. And they’re both panting heavily, seemingly lost in some haze— maybe the same one that forces her to stay rooted to her spot in the doorway.

With her eyes as wide as saucers and mouth parted, she’s not entirely sure how long she stands there for. Until out of the blue, she notices Rafe’s eyes flickering over to her— a smirk tugging at his mouth when he catches her staring.

She tries to move her legs but they won’t listen; making his lazy grin only grow in tandem with his strained groans that seem to only increase in volume as he locks his eyes with her.

And she can’t breathe; the air clogging her lungs instead of flowing through as her dazed mind tries to get her to do something, anything to get her to leave the room but his heady gaze seems to have hypnotized her— compelled her to stay right where she is.

All at once, a gravelly noise rumbles from his chest— his head dropping against the cushion of his fluffy pillows, seemingly reaching some sort of a peak in his search for pleasure as the woman above him begins to slow down her movements. And that’s when she’s finally able to step away; shutting the door behind her before scurrying down the stairs with bated breaths and heart pounding in her ears.

When she reaches the bottom, she accidentally stumbles into someone holding a golden serving tray— causing it to topple over to the floor with a loud clatter.

“I’m so sorry,” she apologizes before her wobbly legs are scrambling off in an attempt to locate the nearest escape route to the garden.

And once she’s managed to make it outdoors, she feels like she can finally breathe— the crisp December wind granting her heated skin an opportunity to cool down as she sits down on one of the wooden benches with a sigh.

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