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You’re not really sure what you were thinking when you had agreed to stay over at your parent’s house for the holidays.
You’d been in the kitchen, nestled between a plethora of gaudy Christmas decorations, swirling a pot of melted chocolate when your mother had first sprung the idea on you - the whole family staying at their place for the week of Christmas. You had agreed almost immediately, softened by the warmth of the crackling hearth, the flow of good conversation, and by the taste of homemade cider you’d been sipping, still sweet on your tongue.
In the weeks leading up to the trip, it had been a nice thought - you and your fiancé Satoru sat around your parents dining table with your siblings, eating your moms homemade cookies and watching your nieces and nephews giggle and tear open gifts. But your honeyed fantasies had come abruptly to a halt when you’d swung the door to your childhood bedroom open and realized that the space was smaller than you’d remembered.
A lot smaller.
Now with a full house and no where else to turn at such short notice, you’d found yourselves cramped in a pink coated three by three square for a week straight.
Being someone who tended to favor their own space, you were less than thrilled by the idea. Satoru of course, clingy bastard that he was, loved it. When that bedroom door - still decorated with petals of tiny painted fingerprints and a big panel spelling out your childhood nickname - had swung open, he’d simply let out a quiet little chuckle and tugged your suitcases inside, flopping onto the bed immediately, clutching your favorite teddy between his arms.
He loved that he got to catch a glimpse of what you’d been like in your youth. Flipping through the little sketches left behind in the margins of your sticker coated notebooks. Poking through your wardrobe - still filled with old dance costumes and a plethora of old gear from long forgotten hobbies - with an expression a touch softer than his usual grin. He especially loved that your parents had never bothered to upgrade the double bed from your childhood. The old frame still shoved into the corner beside a set of drawers, mattress still fitted with cute little pale pink sheets printed with Hello Kitty's face.
He made no attempt to hide his excitement that you were all but forced to sleep shoulder to shoulder every night. Or stacked on top of one another as it ended up most of the time. You curled up on top of his toned chest, legs tangled beneath multiple blankets, barricading you in a bubble of body heat. He reminded you of a cat in that way - you swore he’d crawl inside your skin if he could. He’d happily live and die between the cage of your ribs, nestled beside your heart.
Despite your mild annoyance at the rooming situation, you could admit that it had its perks. For one, you could never say that you were cold at night. And being so close to your doting fiancé nearly 24/7 had its perks too. The way he would shutdown your brothers snide comments without fuss, smoothly taking your side in a way that felt effortlessly protective, natural. He was sweet with your mother and charming with your father. And you’d heard not a single complaint leave his lips about being stuck cramped inside your family home for the winter.
But of all Satoru’s many lovable qualities, discreetness was not counted amongst them.
It was Christmas morning. Early. So early in fact that the birds were only just starting to chirp awake outside, and a cool barely-there light bled into the room through the slivered cracks in the aged blinds.
Instead of snoozing as you should have been, wrapped cozily in your boyfriends arms - you instead found yourself buried face down in the mattress, with your back arched into a curve that was borderline sinful. The cute little Christmas pajamas your Mom had gifted you the night before slid up your back by your fiancés wandering hands.
“f-uh-fuck!- Satoru-…mpffhh!-“
A slender hand crept up your neck, slipping past your quivering jaw to clamp over your lips, applying a firm pressure that had your eyes rolling back. You squirmed in place, nestled between your childhood stuffies. They watched you from where they’d been knocked askew with their wet, beady eyes. Big and black, glittering as if with tears - like you were traumatizing them with each stuttered roll of your hips, each strangled cry through the press of his fingers.
“Shhhh baby. Don’t want to wake the whole house now, do we?” Satoru purred into your ear, voice a low rumble like he wasn’t the sole cause of your spineless whining as he rutted his hips endlessly into the plush curve of your ass.
His flannel pajama bottoms rubbed against the backside of your thighs, still tugged up a little as a barrier against the crisp morning air. Even with your face smushed into the pillows you could tell he was grinning. You could hear it quirking at the edges of his voice, still rough and graveled with sleep.
Whatever he might say, you knew he lived for this. Lived to see your body tremble below him, feel your tongue slipping out to graze against his clamped fingers as you licked your lips, struggling to keep quiet. Most of all he loved the thrill that someone might be wandering down the hallway just outside your door. Maybe they’d hear your strangled groan on their way to the bathroom and tilt their head, or frown at the wet, sticky sound just barely audible over the cover of blankets.
He’d never admit it, but the idea that he might just get caught pounding his fiancee’s sweet little pussy into the mattress, surrounded by stuffed animals in her childhood bed had him rutting into you even harder.
Really, Satoru wasn’t entirely to blame. You were grown enough to admit that you’d been willingly teasing him for the past few days. Bending over the big oak dining table to chase a rouge roll of sticky tape when he stepped into the room behind you. Making sure you waited until he opened the bedroom door to start tugging on your skin tight wool-lined leggings. Your back turned to him, wiggling your ass in a cute little lacy thong as you slipped the fabric up. Purposefully making a mess while drinking cocoa, innocent eye contact suddenly heated as he watched you lick whipped cream slow and tauntingly from the corner of your lip, his icy azure eyes melted to something dark and needy.
You couldn’t deny you’d been aching for it too. Whatever futile idea you’d had pre-trip that you’d have ever been able to abstain from your picture perfect, blisteringly hot fiancé for the week was sorely misplaced.
Watching the way Satoru doted on the kids was enough on its own to have you tugging at your collar for the heat rising to your face. The way he’d kneel down to slip their little mittens on and ruffle their hair as they tugged him out into the field of snow. Letting them beat him in the world’s slowest snowball fight, then collapsing with a genuinely joyful laugh as the preschoolers dog-piled him in the soft powder. He’d trudge to the front door carrying more kids than you thought humanly possible, two slugged over his shoulders, another one in either arm.
Once everyone was inside, stripped from their snow jackets and tucked in-front of the fire, he’d spoil them all with cookies and hot cocoa filled to the brim with pale colored marshmallows. And your heart would swell watching their little eyes, moon wide, munching on sweets as he regaled them with some entirely fabricated tale of knights and dragons until they started dozing off - exhausted, well fed and happy.
For all your teasing, you were frankly surprised he’d been able to restrain himself for this long. Of the two of you he was nine times out of ten the first to crack. You supposed you could at least cancel your less than savory under-table plans for Christmas dinner now.
“Satoru, ‘s too deep! ah-!…” You moaned through the cracks in his fingers, your own hands grappling at his forearm and feeling the muscles there twitch beneath your grasp.
Satoru leaned over you, incessant thrusts pressing harder until you were drooling into his palm, bubbles of spit slipping between his digits and squelching alongside the rhythmic, sticky ‘schlick schlick’ sounds of his cock sliding as it speared you open.
“‘M sorry baby, just couldn’t help it.” Satoru panted. “Watchin’ how well you handle the kids, just makes me wanna give you one of your own - y’know?”
He was nosing at your nape then, trailing hot kisses into the curl of baby hairs at the base of your skull, huffing the scent of your perfume lingering there.
“What d’you think, huh? My extra Christmas gift to you - our own little bundle of holiday joy?” He murmured into the sweat soaked skin of your throat between grazes of his teeth.
“Tell you what honey, why don’t I leave it for you riiiiight here.”
His spare hand slipped down between your trembling body and the mattress to rub flat over your lower belly, like he was giving himself somewhere to aim for. You jolted and whined a broken sound with the pressure of his fingers, feeling the shape of himself through your delicate skin, collapsed into the curve of his bicep.
“Shhh, what did I say? Naughty girl.” He tutted with no real bite.
Loosening his grip on your jaw, he instead curled his hand up to trail two fingers along your bitten lips until they parted beneath, and then crowded your mouth, trailing along the sharp points of your canines.
Your eyes fluttered closed, reveling in the feeling of his fingers petting at your silky tongue. You hollowed your cheeks, suckling diligently on the digits.
Through the buzz of pleasure you could hear it - the filthy, wet slap of his hips and yourself clenching helplessly around his length. if you hadn’t woken up half the house already with your desperate muffled cries, then the slick obscene sounds of your needy cunt alongside the creaking rhythm of the headboard of your little bed smacking against the wall definitely would.
As you mentally spiraled, considering how you were going to explain away the borderline animalistic sounds emanating from your bedroom - Satoru clearly had no such concerns. He mouthed openly at your shoulder, slipped his hips out a little further, thrusts kept deep and controlled just to hear the slick squelch alongside your desperate gasping.
“Fuck baby, y’ hear that? She’s cryin’ for it.”
You don’t know how many time you’d scolded your boyfriend, told him post coitus with your face blazing hot not to refer to your pussy in third person. But fuck if it didn’t send a blaze of desire zipping right through you anyway.
You simply groaned feebly around his fingers, teeth grazing his skin, and dug your knees into the mattress to nudge your ass back harder against the roll of his hips.
“Aww, pretty little pussy wants her gift real bad, huh?” Satoru purred, his own tongue laving long wet stripes up your throat.
You could feel his breathe curl over the shell of your ear, sweet and minty like the candy canes he’d had glued to his lips for the past week. He had his forehead pressed to the nape of your neck, eyes fluttered closed, rubbing against you like a content cat.
“C’mon baby, I’ll let you open one early… jus’ cum for me now, yeah?…” He was panting now, and you could feel in the way his hips were stuttering a little, and the sweet little groans slipping from his throat, that he was close.
Suddenly his fingers slipped from your lips, leaving a glittering string between them before he dug an elbow into the mattress beside your head, leveraging the frantic pump of his hips.
“Please pretty girl, need’t feel you cummin’ around me.” He whined, voice turned high and breathy.
Ever the gentleman, the hand that had previously been tracing the outline of himself through your lower belly slipped down further, fingers pressing in to draw tight practised circles into your clit. Satoru groaned a satisfied sound when he felt just how wet you were, clit slippery and twitching beneath his fingers.
As soon as his fingers brushed that sweet little nub your body collapsed beneath him in a trembling heap, tightly wound coil bubbling in your gut on the brink of snapping.
“Oh fuck, ‘toru!-…” You babbled around his fingers, and you could feel yourself clenching, pussy twitching in tight pulses around his length as you toed the edge.
“Fuck yes, that’s it. I got you sweetheart, just let go.” He panted into the crook of your neck, slick with sweat and his own drool.
With your head buried into the pillows, you felt that tight little coil finally snap, and in the next stuttered buck of your hips you were coming undone. You could feel the heated gush between your sticky thighs, and your cunt clenching mindlessly around him.
“There you go, that’s my good fucking girl.”
You could do nothing more than turn your head to the side and suck in a gasped breath when you felt his thrusts begin to falter, hips rutting fast and sloppy as a thick, pulsing heat began to fill you. You felt his temple against to yours, and his lips found your cheek, pressing a soft kiss to your dewy skin.
“Merry Christmas, princess.” Came his soft voice, rumbled into your ear.
As Satoru’s trembling thrusts slowed to a grinding halt, you stayed just like that - sweat soaked and warmed in the bundle of duvet covers with Satoru slid beside you, half his body still thrown atop you, soft and comforting like the protective press of a weighted blanket.
Your breaths came soft and relaxed, eyes squeezed closed as the beginnings of golden morning sun crept beneath the blinds.
Satoru stretched beside you with a hefty groan, pressing a slow kiss to the crown of your messed hair tucked beneath his arm.
“We better think of a good excuse for all that noise before we get to dinner.“ He mused, nosing at the wild strands. “What d’you think? Wild cat fight out on the street, or?…”
“You’re an idiot, Satoru.”
“That's not very festive of you. Careful, I might just retract my gifts.”
“Yeah well, I don’t think you can take this one back.”
“You’re right, better keep it.”