I Need To Be Put In My Place (the Morgue)

I need to be put in my place (the morgue)

James Potter x best friend!fem!reader

Summary: James panics when he sees what his boggart is.

Genre: hurt and comfort

Warnings: mentions/descriptions of reader's death, crying, panic attacks, swearing

~ anon, this idea was amazing! thank you ☺️ ~

James's arrogance is his Achilles's Heel.

He truly can't help it sometimes—especially now when that arrogance is accompanied by his friends' laughter as he teases everyone about their stupid boggarts. Emma Johnstons' was a spider, which scared Peter, but had Sirius and James in tears at the back of the classroom.

"Wait until it's your turn, Potter," an annoyed Emma hisses as she walks by them, still pale from fright and embarrassment. She sends James a murderous look and continues, "Then we'll see who's laughing in the end."

James's grin only widens and he sees her words as a challenge. His hand shoots up in the air and he bounces on his heels. "Oi! Professor?! Can I be next?!" 

Professor Windward looks at him behind his small glasses, already exhausted by James's antics but he allows him to walk up to the front of the classroom anyway. James sends his best friends an obnoxiously confident wink and struts up to the front of the line.

James isn't in any way prepared for his boggart. 

He's expected something mundane—like an animal, or even death eater—or maybe some scary creature he'd read about in library books. What he didn't expect was to see you, dressed in your uniform and robe, your shiny hair sprawled across the wooden floor-board as blood slowly dripped from your mouth.

Your eyes are round but they're lifeless and your clothes are soaked in crimson liquid. You aren't moving and it looks too real that, for a moment, James is completely frozen. 

He hears the whispers of his classmates—whispers of your name and reminders of your relationship with James. Friends, the word rings around the classroom just as James's mind breaks and he completely panics at your body on the ground in front of him. 

He drops his wand, breaking into an awkward run to where you lay, entirely prepared to skid across the floor and hold you in his arms, but Professor Windward is quicker. He grabs James by his collar and pulls him back, his arms encasing around James's shoulders as he makes the boggart disappear with another spell. 

It seemed too cruel to turn the image of your dead body into something ridiculous. 

No one in the room is laughing, not even Emma Johnston, as James makes a pained sound and attempts to shove past Professor Windward and hold you like he'd planned. His mind is racing and he's panicked as the sounds around him make him feel like he's trapped underwater.

"Son, it's a boggart. It cannot hurt you. It's not real," Professor Windward explains, his grip on James firm, but James doesn't seem to understand him. Sirius, Remus, and Peter are beside James in an instant, holding him up and comforting him. 

Without much convincing, Professor Windward lets them lead him outside into the corridor and down the stairs. James is a mess and he keeps looking around for danger or you. His mind screams at him that he's being unreasonable, that it wasn't real and he knows this, but his heart is in a complete panic. 

"Prongs, hey, it's okay," Remus tries to explain as James's hand tightens in Sirius's. "She's probably in her dorm—she's okay."

"Should we take him to her?" Peter squeaks, looking between his friends with concern. 

"No–"

"Yes–" James interrupts Remus's answer and he turns to Sirius, his eyes round and desperate. "I wanna see her. Please. I wanna see her now. I need to know she's okay!" Remus doesn't think it's smart to bring James to see you when he's like this but Sirius can never deny James what he wants so all the boys pile into the door to the Common Room and then quite obnoxiously, James and Sirius start to scream your name as Peter rushes up to their dorm to find the map. 

A moment later, when you still haven't answered, Peter scampers back down from their dorm and holds up the map. "She's in the library," he says breathlessly. Sirius jumps up, snatching the map from Peter's hands.

"Onwards," he shouts in an attempt to lighten the mood but that only earns him a sniffle from James and a glare from Remus. 

* * * 

You're peacefully unaware of the chaos that's about to ensue as you're curled up in an armchair, a book in your lap. You absentmindedly chew on your lower lip as you concentrate. 

"Y/n!" a familiar boy screams your name and you look up, sitting normally in the armchair as your four very anxious looking friends stumble in front of you. "Look, she's okay," Peter points, sounding relieved as well as he moves aside to reveal a very distressed looking James Potter. 

You stand up, dusting your uniform and your eyebrows crease. "What's happened?" you ask seriously and then you feel James's arms wrap around your shoulders as he pulls you into him. His lips find the exposed skin of your collarbone as he inhales your scent and almost crushes you closer to him. 

James's always been an affectionate person. Since you can remember, he's never not taken an opportunity to kiss your cheek, wrap his arms around you, or even hold your hand, but this is extreme even for him. You glance at the other boys, confusion evident on your expression, and they send you sympathetic looks. 

"Jamie," you whisper and hug him back, your hand hesitating but ultimately finding his hair. 

You hear a choked cry and you realize he's almost in tears. Concern overwhelms your senses and you pull away only to have James's hand find yours. His eyes are shiny with tears and, as if he's reminding himself, he mutters, "You're alive." His thumb caresses your palm. 

"You two should talk," Remus interrupts bluntly and sends Sirius, who seems entertained by the scene in front of him, a sharp glare, "Alone." Remus pulls Sirius away, ignoring the latter's hump of protest as Peter trails behind them.  

James doesn't seem to care as he stares at you, he looks much calmer now. 

"What do you mean? Of course I'm alive." you ask gently, pressing your palm to his cheek. 

He leans into your touch. "I saw you dead. In Defense Against The Dark Arts. Professor Windward was showing us boggarts and it was funny until it was my turn and that dreadful thing turned into your lifeless body, right there in front of me, and—and I didn't know what to do because I realized if you died, I would just have to die too," James explains, sounding like he's made up his mind if the scenario ever comes up. 

Boggarts? James's biggest fear was your death? You can hear the sincerity in his voice and you can't help the way your heart jumps for his. 

"Does that make you the Romeo to my Juliet?"

James frowns and asks, "Who?" which reminds you that James hadn't heard of some muggle writer like Shakspeare and that even if he had taken Muggle Studies last year, like he was supposed to, he wouldn't have listened that intently anyway.  

"Star-crossed lovers," you shrug, ignoring how warm your cheeks have become. 

James's shoulders relax and he chuckles. "So, you're saying we're star-crossed lovers now?"

You like that your little quip has lightened the mood successfully so you shrug again, deciding to tease him. "Never said that. Why? D'you want to be star-crossed lovers?"

"No. Because I don't want our relationship to be doomed," James deadpans and he runs a hand in his curly hair nervously. He looks behind you through the stained glass window of the library and hears the soft patterns of afternoon rain. "It's raining," he says and he moves closer, his hand finding yours again as he fiddles with your fingers.

"It appears so," you answer in a whisper. You look at him, trying to read him. You squeeze his hand. "I'm right here, James. 'M not going anywhere."

A moment of comfortable silence passes and James looks so serious as he stares into your eyes, his breathing becoming harsh again. He leans in and he's wearing the same look on his face every man does before he kisses someone—only James Potter wears it well. Your breath hitches and your eyes flutter shut, nerves bubbling in your stomach.  

When his lips touch yours they're accompanied by his hands around your jaw. He's gentle with you, kissing you like he's savoring your touch. He pulls away only to press his forehead on yours.

"Merlin's beard, I've wanted to do that for so long. You're intoxicating, Y/n," he whispers as if he's just made a revelation and he takes your chin in between his thumb and index, smiling like the love-sick fool he's always been. 

"I really like you."

Your eyes widen. "You do?"

James's smile turns into a smirk. "Yeah, 'course I do. Was that kiss not enough confirmation?" He raises an eyebrow and leans in again, this time peppering open mouth kisses across my entire face, "Here. I really really really like you," he mumbles and enjoys the sound of your giggles as you shy away from his kisses. 

"I really like you too," you say, finally escaping his kisses as James pulls away. He looks over the moon happy.

"The boys are never gonna believe this," James mutters, completely unaware that unlike him, it hadn't taken Sirius, Peter, and Remus this incident for them to realize James is madly in love with you. They'd known from the first time James had uttered your name. 

"Shit, you're already the best girlfriend I've ever had—not that I've had many," James says, almost to himself as he tucks some hair behind your ear. 

You laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Woah, slow down there. Take me on a date first, then we'll talk about labels," you joke, knowing damn well that by the end of the date James would be proclaiming his love for you to everyone who would listen and you don't mind one bit. 

James's eyes shimmer at the opportunity to spoil you. "You have a deal, m'lady."

You laugh. "Merlin, you're so cringe, James." You take his arm and pull him towards the window where a bunch of pillows are laid out on the edge and you plop down, momentarily looking out the window at the rain.

James follows your lead and when he leans against the wall, you lay your head on his chest and rest in between his legs. 

"Stay with me for a bit?" you ask.

His heart feels like it's fluttering at your closeness and he's completely calm—the memory of your dead body completely distant now. It's now a memory he'll only remember in the dead of night, when he'll have you to hold him and kiss all his worries away. 

James nods and then he leans his head on the wall and looks outside, his hand playing with your hair as you hum and continue to read your book. The soft sound of rain is like a piano melody as he watches the droplets fall down the glass. They're racing in his mind like they would when he was a child and he smiles. 

He kisses the top of your head, earning him a giggle as he mouths, "I love you," into your hair. 

One day soon he'll say the words out loud, just not now.

Today, he's happy just being near you and knowing that he finally has you in some significant way—in a way he'd denied himself for way too long. 

You nuzzle in him and turn your page, your gaze so focused, and his heart swells. 

I love you, he thinks again. I love you so damn much. 

'you never read anymore, you used to love reading' and i have 200 safari tabs open. it never stopped it just got weird

that scene in the half blood prince where one of the inferi is dragging harry down into the water

do you think maybe it was regulus thinking harry was james

OMG??

☾ .⭒˚ the sixth of march ♡ rafayel birthday special

☾ .⭒˚ genre: smut, porn with very little plot

⋆.˚ ☾ word count: 5.09k

☾ .⭒˚ content warning: mdni,  semi-public bathroom sex, switch!raf, whiny!raf, semi-public sex, mirror sex, oral sex m!receiving, face/throat fucking, standing sex, hitting it from the back, creampies, cum swallowing, cum in panties, birthday sex, leaking cum in public, please let me know if i missed anything!

☾ .⭒˚ a/n: it’s our little fishy’s birthday! happy birthday rafayel! <3 short lil (lol 5k words short) smut for our precious raf’s birthday. idk why i always end up having raf x y/n sex be in the bathroom its purely coincidental LOL

please note that this is NOT based on his birthday event story OR the birthday event card. It might be somewhat similar but i wrote it entirely separately. If there’s any resemblance its purely coincidental, so don’t expect this fic to be accurate to the event!

as always pls enjoy :) also come interact with me on twit @/aeyumicore

⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚

"Bruschetta, miss?”

Your head snaps to the politely smiling waiter in front of you, holding a tray of the most delicious glistening bread bites, topped with vibrant red cherry tomatoes and fresh green basil. 

"No, thank you,” you decline politely, having had your fill of the endless lavish hors d'oeuvres at the birthday party you’d put together for Rafayel. Instead, you let your eyes wander back to the highly in-demand purple haired birthday boy across the sea of random people you didn't know, and honestly you weren’t sure Rafayel knew them either.

You’d originally wanted something quaint and intimate for Rafayel’s 25th birthday, but thanks to Thomas it’d turned into a huge elaborate party with business partners, sponsors, and just so many important industry contacts. The guest list spun out of control so fast, until it became a full blown business event.

Honestly, you felt so terrible. You knew this is not what Rafayel wanted for his birthday, but he was being an incredibly good sport about it, making polite conversation with every single person that approached him. Which was extremely unlike him, and that scared you even more. Besides the brief embrace you’d shared when he’d arrived, you hadn't had the chance to spend any time with him tonight.

So, like you had the rest of the night, you stared at him from across the ballroom floor, admiring him from afar. He was so unfairly dashing in his white jacket adorned with a gold leafed lapel chain that matched the stars and moon that hung off his golden waist chain. His black tie hung loosely against his hard chest, contrasting beautifully against the shining white pearls on his lapel. 

He’d picked out and gifted you a matching dress for you to wear, and had a driver deliver it to you this morning. It was nothing short of art itself, an extravagant golden a-line tulle evening gown with an expensive sequin and pearl applique that mirrored the starry night sky. The strapless sweetheart neckline pushed your cleavage up as the high slit exposed your bare legs, leaving you feeling beautiful and confident, something Rafayel always knew how to do.

Rafayel looks up from the undoubtedly very rich and important man he’d been talking to, and catches your stare from across the room. His lips don’t quirk, still caught in his conversation, but his eyes sparkle as they drink you in, the corners crinkling in their own little smile. 

You grin back at him, raising the glass of champagne you’d been holding onto for the entire night, and taking a languid gulp. As you lower the glass, you purposely let a droplet drip down your chin, using your index finger to catch it and bringing it up to your tongue to lick it off.

Even from yards away, you can see Rafayel’s eyes darken and his neck bob with a gulp. You watch as he falters in his words, trying to steel himself back into his conversation. Chuckling to yourself, you turn away from him to give a brief reprieve of your teasing.

The champagne lights your face ablaze, so you decide to run to the bathroom to touch up before your makeup starts melting off. You weave through the hordes of elegantly dressed guests, slightly in shock of how many people showed up to celebrate Rafayel. Or at least showed up to get in his good graces. 

The banquet hall you’d booked was expensive and intricate, and the bathrooms were no different. As you slipped into the single unisex washroom you barely noticed as Rafayel slipped in behind you before you could let the door shut fully. 

You yelped in surprise as he followed you into the single stall bathroom, but the alarm dissipated when you realized it was him and not some random stranger. 

"Rafayel!” You reprimanded, pushing the door shut behind him so as to make sure no prying eyes caught the two of you, "What are you doing?!”

Rafayel doesn’t respond, instead capturing you in his embrace, his hands settling around the small of your back as he pulls you tightly into his hard body. 

"You shouldn’t tease me all night, it’s not very nice,” he hums, playing with a curled lock of hair against your cheek.

You feign innocence, eyes widening and head cocking to the side, "What am I doing?”

Rafayel pouts, his cheeks rosy under the fluorescent bathroom lights, "It’s my birthday, you should be nicer to me.” He tucks the strand of hair he’d been playing with behind your ear.

"I haven’t gotten to see you, all night,” he sulks, his voice tinged with a sharp whine.

You can’t help but giggle at his childish behavior and tease him a bit, "But you were looking at me just earlier!”

He grumbles, thoroughly unamused, "You know that’s not what I mean.”

You sigh and let yourself melt into his hold, your arms wrapping around him in return, "I know, I'm sorry Raf. This was supposed to be small, just you, me, and some friends. It got out of control so fast.”

He continues with his pouty tirade. "It’s my birthday,” he whines, burying his face deep into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, "And I don’t even get to enjoy the only thing I want.”

He pulls away so he can admire you again, this time right before his hungry and waiting eyes like he should’ve been able to. His gaze devours every inch of you, from the exposed and flushed skin to the way the dress hugs your figure in all the right ways.

"I miss you,” he complains, eyes still drinking you in and hands tight against your waist.

"M’sorry Raf,” you murmur, dusting his purple locks away from his eyes, "I missed you too.” 

He sighs dramatically, "I don’t want to talk to any more of those old farts. Especially when you look like this right across the room.”

"It’s a beautiful dress. I didn’t have the opportunity to thank you for it yet,” you mumble bashfully, suddenly nervous under his scrutinizing stare.

"I knew you would look exquisite in it,” he grumbles, "But I thought I would be able to spend my night admiring it on you. And off you.”

And though you can tell Rafayel is half joking, you can’t help but feel bad that you’re partly to blame for him having to spend his birthday like this, with people who wanted his attention for their own personal selfish reasons.

"I’m sorry babe, it’ll be over soon. I’ll make it up to you, I promise!”

Sighing deeply and theatrically again, "How will you make it up to me? I only get one birthday a year, you know?”

You get a mischievous and filthy idea. Your hands travel from his back to his abdomen, pushing slightly to create space between your bodies. He eyes you curiously, but lets you continue. As your hands travel further south, undoing the intricate latch of his expensive belt, his eyes widen.

"H-hey! What are you doing?!”

As you get down onto your knees, pulling his pants down with you in your descent, you look up at him through your eyelashes, batting them earnestly, "My birthday boy is unhappy, and we can’t have that can we?” Though the bathroom is spotless, the tiled floor likely cleaner than your own bathroom, you’re careful to bunch the beautiful gown up and hold it above your calves, as best as you can.

"I can just give you one of your birthday gifts right now,” you murmur, "But you’ll have to wait until we’re home to unwrap the rest.”

Rafayel only gulps in response, his cheeks and earlobes slowly turning crimson as he’s left standing in just his briefs. Mesmerized, you watch as his erection lifts against the restraint of his underwear, grasping the base with your fingers and reveling in the way he whimpers into the brisk bathroom air.

You rest your lips against the tent in his briefs, licking at his length against the clothing. He hisses, hands finding purchase in the sink behind him to ground himself against your teasing licks. You keep your eyes glued to his, batting your eyelashes as you take his cock out. As the cold clean air of the bathroom hits him, he sucks in another sharp breath, gripping the sink almost painfully.

Rafayel has to remind himself how to breathe as he watches your beautiful eyes widen as you lick at the copious amounts of pre cum dripping down his length and onto his briefs. 

"H-holy shit,” he wheezes out, throwing his head back as your tongue skillfully maneuvers over his glistening bulbous head, the skin pink and angry, demanding attention. You take him fully into your mouth, moaning at the taste of his slick filling your senses. Rafayel whines and twitches at the vibrations of your mouth, trying desperately to keep from busting his load into your mouth right there.

You tease him dutifully, only letting his cock enter your mouth, not taking him into your throat just yet. A mess of whimpers and moans, Rafayel holds himself back from forcing his length down into your warm and waiting throat, like you’d let him so many times before. The sight of you, all done up in the beautiful golden gown he’d personally picked for you, on your knees for him, drove him insane, but he wanted to be a good boy for you.

"Baby,” he whimpers, beautiful sobs breaking out from his mouth, "You feel so g-good.”

Your mouth bobs up and down earnestly at his praises, and he’s being so good for you you want to reward him. But your hands are busy holding up your dress from falling to the bathroom floor which makes it difficult for you to service his entire impressive length. So instead, you use one hand to bring each of his palms into your curled hair. Luckily you’d worn your hair down in tousled waves so you were able to easily thread his fingers into them, urging him to grip onto you.

You hold his hand there until he gets the message of what you’re asking him to do, or rather giving him permission to do, and he hardens further with excitement. His fingers tighten at your scalp as he begins to fuck into your mouth, eyes rolling back at the feel of your thick lips against the veins of his cock.

"Hah – you’re so good to me,” he pants, pelvis fervently hitting your mouth as you do your best to relax your throat and take him as deeply as possible. He continues to babble, "F-fuck feels so good baby, I-I can’t stop.” He handles you roughly, hands tight and pace unrelenting, but you absolutely love when he’s this demanding with you.

You moan at his words, feeling yourself dampen in your panties, trying to let the vibrations hit him when he’s as deep as possible. You use your tongue to stroke the vein on the underside of his shaft, wanting to see your birthday boy come undone just for you. He bucks excitedly into your mouth, absolutely lost in the way your mouth attempts to accommodate every inch of him. 

"You take me so fucking well,” he whines, still fucking vigorously into your mouth, "Your mouth was made for me to fuck, my perfect girl.”

Rafayel’s vision blacks as you gulp around him, your throat constricting impossibly tight against his cock. The sounds of your guttural choking drive him to the edge, and when he looks down to see tears running down your gorgeous face and drool trailing down your chin, his erection lurches with the need to release deep down your throat. 

"M’gonna cum baby,” he warns, "You can take it all right? You can, you will.” 

You hum in response, and the vibrations send him over the edge. With his hands intertwined in your hair, Rafayel lets out a strangled moan as he absolutely explodes into your waiting mouth. 

You do your best not to choke on the sheer amount of cum he releases, the sweet-salty taste blinding all your senses. You lick his cock diligently, working him through his climax, and savoring every last drop of his essence. 

He twitches with overstimulation inside your mouth, but still painfully hard. You release him and gasp for air, as stray rivulets of cum streak down your chin. Rafayel bends down to lift you up off your knees, mesmerized by the fucked out look on your face, even though he’d only ravished your mouth. 

"That was incredible, you are incredible. I wasn’t too rough was I?” He inspects your face carefully, wiping a tear off your cheek.

"You weren’t,” you reassured with a smile, turning to the mirror and sink behind him. 

"Is your birthday night slightly better now?” You tease, fixing your appearance in the mirror. You wash the spit and cum from your chin, and then dab carefully at the dark smudges of makeup smeared under your eyes.

"I want my other gift now,” Rafayel mumbles, coming up behind you and moving your dress to the side so that the slit parts and exposes the back of your thighs. 

"H-here?” You ask in disbelief, as if you didn’t just suck him off. But your risque streak had evaporated as fast as it had come, and now you quivered at the idea of having sex in this private, but still public, bathroom, with dozens of people outside likely looking for the artist himself. 

"Can I please?” He pouts, and you can see his begging eyes behind you in the mirror, "It’s still my birthday for another few hours.” His hands fiddle with your dress impatiently, but still waiting for your consent nonetheless. "And I was so good tonight, talking to those people all night when all I  wanted was to be with you.”

Your heart squeezes at his adorable pleas. You can’t deny the way the idea of Rafayel taking you in this shared public space has you leaking. The hungry longing in his eyes, masked by the adorable puppy eyes, makes you cave. You nod gently, and Rafayel’s instantly on his knees, burying himself under the tulle of your dress.

You can feel Rafayel pausing with his face close to your heat. "Raf?” You whisper, breathless with anticipation. 

"When did you buy these?” You realize he’s admiring your panties, part of a set you’d bought to surprise him for his birthday. You’d nearly forgotten you wore it under your dress, wanting him to unwrap you like a present after the party. 

"Happy birthday Rafayel,” you giggle weakly, his breath fanning over your cunt, making you squirm. The purple haired artist is speechless under you, staring at the intricate embroidered sea stars and shells that adorned the turquoise semi sheer mesh, making it look like you were naked save for the beautiful applique. 

"You’re telling me you were wearing this under the dress?” You can tell Rafayel was on the edge of going feral just by admiring the little knit shells against your most delicate region. You shivered thinking about how’d he’d act when he’d see the matching bra, hopefully later tonight. His words came out strained, as he tried his best to keep himself level. 

"It’s your birthday, and I wrapped myself up nicely for you,” you murmur, as you lean over the sink with your hands gripping the sides, waiting for him to finally do something. You almost want to step back and shove yourself into him, but you do your best to remain patient, letting him admire every inch of your lace clad cunt.

He swears, finally snapping out of his trance, "Fuck, I will take my time with you later. Right now I j-just need you.” You hiss as his fingers finally glaze over your no doubt glistening folds, the cold air nipping at your exposed and sensitive area. He pulls the intricate lace off of you, stuffing it into his pockets so as to not let them touch the floor.

You cry out when his lips find your dripping cunt, devouring you from behind. His strong fingers grip your ass, pulling your cheeks apart slightly to give him better access to his favorite dessert. Like you yourself had earlier, he moans at the taste and his vibrations resonate straight to your g spot. Your knees buckle at the pleasure, and you do your best to keep your moans muffled in case anyone was waiting outside the locked door.

Rafayel fucks you with his tongue languidly, his hand reaching between your legs to rub at your throbbing nub. Your eyes roll into your head, and you cover your mouth with the back of your hand, biting down to stop the scream from ripping out.

Rafayel is unhappy with your muffled cries of ecstasy, wanting to hear you in full. He stands to his full height, leaving you whimpering at the loss of his warmth against your dripping pussy. He stands, incredibly tall behind you, leaning into your ear.

"You know I hate it when you hide your noises from me,” he whispers, lining up his hardened length against your hole, bending you over the sink.

"I-I don’t want anyone to h-hear,” you stutter, grinding yourself onto his cock, wanting to be filled. 

Rafayel rubs himself against you, gathering your slick and lathering it all over, "Then I'll just have to force them out of you, huh?” With that slight threat, he sheathes himself fully into you, you practically scream into your hand, except this time Rafayel yanks your hand away, holding it behind your back firmly. Your scream echoes against the walls of the bathroom, and you pray no one is outside the door. Anyone within ten feet of the door would undoubtedly hear the lewd noises coming from inside the bathroom.

"Let me hear you,” he purrs against your ear, thrusting slowly into your gummy walls. But still, you bite your lip, the idea of someone hearing you both mortifying and incredibly hot. 

His thrusts are rough and demanding, making you bump into the cold surface of the sink. With Rafayel’s other hand he grabs your chin between his fingers and holds it up so that your eyes level with the mirror in front of you.

"Watch. Watch me fuck you baby,” his voice is so charismatic you can’t help but obey him. Your eyes meet his in the mirror, as you watch his face contort as he fucked into your womb. He smirks at you, hands leaving your face when he’s sure you won’t look away, to grip your waist. His large hands manhandled you so deliciously, using your body like a toy against his ravaging strokes. 

Watching Rafayel’s cocky smile as he forced you to keep contact with his eyes through the mirror quickly drove you closer and closer to your climax, the excitement of it all unbearable. Your moans echoed throughout the bathroom, the sounds of his pelvis hitting your ass deafening. 

Rafayel ravages you with the intent to make you absolutely lose your mind. He wants you to moan so loudly that you can’t restrain your cries of pleasure, so that anyone outside could hear exactly what he was doing to you.

"That’s my – haah –fucking girl,” he moans, hand smacking against the ripples of your ass bouncing against him. You yelp at the contact, the pain mixing deliciously with the endless ecstasy. Your walls sucked him in repeatedly, squeezing every inch of his length, trying to milk him. "Taking me so so well. Hah – look at you, spoiling me for my birthday.”

His palm gently strikes your rear again, "I must be the luckiest damn man on this planet. In this galaxy.” He reaches to your front, rifling through all your layers of tulle to find your clit, rubbing the slick nub until tears leaked out of your eyes. 

"R-Raf, feels s-sooo good,” you slurred, leaning backwards so you could reach up for his hair as he gripped you from behind. Your bare back slotted tightly against his chest and your fingers gripped into his soft purple hair, tugging roughly. You laid your messy hair into his chest, and he rested his chin in the crook of your shoulder and neck, and the two of you made eye contact in the mirror. 

Rafayel always put your pleasure above anything else, focussing on making you feel good before he even thought about himself. But your ecstasy was his pleasure. And so as he watched your face contort, eyes practically all whites, tongue lolling out of your beautiful lips, tears running down your face, his cock throbbed wanting to fill you to the absolute brim.

He was suddenly filled with the urge, the need to breed you. His woman, who’d dressed up just for him, in a set that was undoubtedly picked just to drive him insane. His love, who he spent the whole night admiring from across the room, when all he wanted for his birthday was to be with you. His girl, his everything, who’d spent weeks planning a whole night for him, even if it didn’t turn out the way he’d have wanted. 

Well that wasn’t entirely true. It actually did turn out exactly the way he’d wanted, with you a wet whimpering mess for him, his cock stuffed inside you while you begged for more. This was in fact exactly how he wanted to spend every second of his birthday, inside you.

"You’re – hah – all mine,” he slurred, drunk off your pussy, his thrusts becoming sloppier with each stroke, "I’m gonna cum in you tonight, ‘kay?”

You nod eagerly, watching his feral expression in the mirror. His brows crinkled adorably, with his lip gripped tightly in his teeth. "You’re gonna – fuuck – walk around the rest of the night with my cum leaking out of you, okay baby?”

You clench at his filthy words, knowing he’s dead serious. Amidst the lust filled haze, you’re so fucked out that nothing sounds better than that. The idea of having to mingle with so many people while Rafayel’s claim to you literally drips down your legs is just enough to have you crying out for him, completely uninhibited.there was no doubt anyone even remotely near the bathroom would’ve heard the way you wailed and moaned for him.

You catch Rafayel’s satisfied smirk in the mirror as he takes you repeatedly from behind, eyes still glued to yours. The heat in his blue-purple orbs is palpable, almost threatening to devour you whole, and your grip tightens in his hair. You pull him impossibly closer, straining your neck painfully so you can turn and kiss him. 

He leans in so you don’t have to bend too far backward, taking your lips passionately into his, even at this awkward angle. You slide your tongue into his mouth, wanting to take the teeniest bit of control as his cock burrowed its way into your stomach, claiming every inch of your gummy walls. 

Rafayel moaned at the feeling of your sweet tongue flickering against his, letting you explore his mouth. He was happy to relinquish control, even if only slightly, especially if it meant he could watch the way your face contorted at every little movement he made. 

The mirror made things exponentially more erotic, the way he could see his girl blissed out in front of him, and admire every single angle and aspect of you taking him so beautifully. The way you could watch each other, watch the way your bodies made absolute art together. 

As your tongues danced, your cunt clenched in anticipation, wanting desperately to release all over him. 

"R-Raf,” you pant, "M’so close.” 

"M-me too love,” he ground into your ear, teeth gritting on the brink of pain, "Gonna paint your beautiful little pussy ‘kay?”

You nod vigorously, eyes shutting as you feel the orgasm creeping up on you and igniting every nerve ending on fire. You gasp as you feel Rafayel’s fingers gently grip your throat, squeezing just enough to have sparks ignite in your vision. 

"Watch,” he commanded forcefully, a rough demand you so rarely heard lacing his alluring musical voice, "Need you to watch when I pump you full of my seed, okay love?”

You force your eyes to stay open, watching the primal expression on his face as his thrusts go deeper, harder. He forces himself into brushing harshly into your g spot, his free hand returning to rub ruthless circles onto your soaked clit. 

You scream out when he touches you, every single point of contact an endless tsunami of pleasure. His eyes command yours, forcing you to watch every single thing he does to your body. 

"God you’re so fucking beautiful, and you’re gonna – hah – look even more beautiful with my baby inside you.”

Your eyes widen at his words, lust getting the better of your usually sound judgment as you clench uncontrollable around his throbbing cock. He hisses at the harsh squeeze.

"Such a greedy girl,” he huffs breathlessly into your earlobe, nibbling down gently, "You want to be a mommy that bad? You’re trying to – hah fuck –  squeeze it out of me?” 

His words push you tumbling into your body numbing orgasm. You’re unable to hold back the scream that wrenches from deep in your throat, Rafayel’s fingers still gripping forcefully. 

"Oh god, m’cumming Raf, cumming so hard,” you wail, body fluttering around him uncontrollably and knees going weak. Rafayel holds you steady so that you don’t crash into the floor as he continues to fuck into your body, so close to his own unraveling. He only grunts in response, losing himself in the tightness and warmth of your grip on him.

"Please, please, please!” You beg, wanting him to give you everything he has. You’re still in the thick of your orgasm and you wracked with the absolute need to feel him all over your insides. 

Rafayel whimpers into your ear, getting wrapped up in the way you beg for him, "Sh-shit Y/N, if you keep s-squeezing like that I'm gonna –” he cuts himself with a torrid curse as your orgasm causes you to crush him inside of you.

"Y-yes please. Raf please. I need you s’bad,” you cry as he stares at you in the mirror, refusing to let go of eye contact. You’re desperate to feel him release inside you while you’re still in the midst of your own climax.

"O-okay love, anything for my needy little princess,” he groans out, before unleashing the most unholiest of swears, erection faltering inside you and trembling as it unloads completely. 

Rafayel grips you for dear life as he cums inside you, his load hot, thick, and unrelenting. His hand is still at your throat as he whimpers into your ear, his breath hot and warm on your skin. You watch the euphoria on his face as he continues to rock into you, his copious release already leaking out, dripping down your thighs.

You reel, feeling faint and short of breath, as you come down from your high, still leaning back into Rafayel’s sturdy stature. His arms move to wrap securely around you, kissing the curve of your neck as his languid thrusts slow to a stop. 

"You’re the best birthday present ever,” he murmurs, burying his face into your neck and inhaling your pheromones, absolutely drunk off of you. He removes himself from the warmth of your cunt, and you whimper as your combined release comes rushing down your thighs, your poor pussy just unable to hold the sheer amount of release Rafayel had pumped into you.

You try your best to smooth your dress, grabbing some paper towels to wipe your thighs off. But Rafayel stops you, his fingers gentle but firm against your wrist.

"What are you doing?” He’s smirking at you, so much mischievous light in his eyes. He fishes your panties out of his pocket and hands them to you expectantly. 

"Put them back on,” he grins at you, looking absolutely and devilishly handsome despite having just ravaged you thoroughly. You on the other hand looked like a mess, like you’d undoubtedly just been fucked. 

You’re about to whine and complain, but you bite it back, wanting to please your birthday boy. Sighing, you lift your dress, slowly slipping the panties back on. You wince as the fabric dampens, pushing the release back into your sopping cunt.

"Let me see.” Rafayel is on his knees in between your legs again before you know it, widening the slit of your gown. He admires you for a good ten seconds, before kissing your inner thighs and rising back to his feet. 

"Are you satisfied?” You tease, trying to shake off the discomfort between your legs. 

"Hmm...I guess you’re a little forgiven…'' he feigns being deep in thought, scratching his chin with his fingers, "I expect many more presents when I take you home tonight.”

You lean up on your tiptoes, even in your heels Rafayel still towered over you, and brushed a gentle kiss to his lips. You giggle at the way even the softest kiss has his ears and cheeks turning deeply pink. "There will be many more presents for you waiting at home. Of the naked variety.”

You thoroughly enjoy the way Rafayel shys away from your eyes, the crimson on his face deepening. His excitement is evident by the way he has to readjust his dress pants, and he clears his throat trying to calm himself down. 

"You’re going to regret that at home, sweetheart,” he grumbles.

"Will I?” You can’t stop teasing him, your eyes glimmering with mischief as you whip around as gracefully as you can, slipping out of the bathroom and leaving him thoroughly frazzled behind you.

–

You spend the rest of the night trying to mingle with Rafayel’s guests, and trying your best to ignore the way Rafayel’s cosmic eyes track your every move. The way you feel like he can see right through your layers and layers of tulle, and see his milky white essence dripping slowly down your thighs. 

He grins at you from across the room, raising his glass of champagne at you as he throws himself animatedly into conversation with his guests, with much more enthusiasm and vigor than he had previously all night. 

And when he did take you home that night, he absolutely did make you regret teasing him on his very own birthday, in ways that had you unable to walk the next day. 

© aeyumicore 2024. please do not steal ♡

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found this on reddit and it summarizes perfectly how to shift realities. this is not even a hack, this is how you shift. it’s literally this simple