#cw master/pet play
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monayen · 1 year ago
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how about jealously with randal n reader? :3 like reader is jealous that randal is hanging out with satoru more than her while dreaming so reader hangs out with sebastian, making randal jealous ?? sorry for my bad english, its not my first language :))
Jelly | Randal Ivory
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➷ Paring - Randal Ivory x Fem!Reader [Randal's Friends / Ranfren]
➷ CWs - master/pet play, fingering, unsafe sex, praise, licking/biting, possessive tendencies, jealousy
a/n - exams have been a bit occupying unfortunately :( i still have a lot of concepts and requests i want to get to, you guys have awesome ideas and i love seeing them in my inbox !! u should see my google docs rn lol
It's hard to not scoff when Randal wakes up and immediately starts talking about his dream. It's become an annoyingly common thing now ever since Randal informed you about his little dream friend, Satoru Tsukada. Even seeming disappointed when he doesn't get a dream with him in it.
Almost every night he snuggles up against you in his coffin, nibbling at your ear and whispering cheekily, “I really hope you come into my dream tonight, imagine the fun we’d all have!” He pulls you closer, elating how proximity raises the chances of this happening.
You suck in any annoyance and nod because you're still his good pet. Though, internally you fight the urge to roll your eyes and admit “I don't really care about that guy.”
A gripping feeling twists in your stomach each morning when you wake up without the shared lucidity, hearing about all the fun Randal had that night. 
Sheepishly, you push it down and let him talk. 
Though, you tune out most of it – for your sake, as an overwhelming feeling of envy washes over you whenever you do pay attention to his words. 
A thought reverberates about not being enough for him. Is the novelty of a new friend enough to push you away? It's not like you don't already share Randal’s attention. Sebastian exists, of course. 
You two got along well enough, much to Randal’s satisfaction. Though, you admit that your focus lied more on the unpredictable gakuran-clad young man.
And despite your initial standoffish attitude when Sebastian was gifted to Randal, you quickly learned he wasn't a threat at all. He just had some unfortunate circumstances and ended up here.  
Therefore, you didn't have to fight for attention and Sebastian seemed to appreciate that you were at least cordial to him. Nobody was in the way.
So maybe this is why you have so much more of a problem with this Satoru character. You don't know him, and the only way you could is completely up to chance. 
How do you compete with that? Based on Randal’s stories, they tend to have a ball of a time. You really try to convince yourself that you're better, that you're overthinking and Randal isn't losing interest in you. 
But at night, when his arms wrap around your body, it's clear his mind is somewhere else. Satoru is a part of him, always in the dream-plane, waiting for him with open arms. Somewhere where you aren't.
Jealousy ten-folds and insecurity festers within as time goes on. Your own stressed voice tells you to relax, but an even louder one continues to complain. 
On a day where Randal is occupied with Luther, leaving you and Sebastian alone in the house, you can't seem to keep it in anymore.
Words seep out of your mouth, “Am I doing something wrong?” It's quiet and Sebastian immediately looks uncomfortable. 
“Um… with what?” He shifts in his seat in the living room, avoiding eye contact with you. He's not to blame, you rarely had conversations that didn't involve Randal. Maybe you should have put more of an effort to get to know him before dumping this on him. Still, you continue. 
“I don't know, what if Randal doesn't like me anymore?” You speak softly, but the candidness is clear. Sebastian isn't used to this vulnerability, he was just brainstorming an attempt to escape (again) but now he has to comfort you… 
Thing is, he doesn't know how to do that. Maybe he would feel more sympathetic if Randal wasn't a complete freak, (he still doesn't understand your affinity for the young man) but you haven't done anything bad to him. He doesn't want to be rude to the only normal enough person here.
“He definitely likes you.” Which is the truth, anybody with eyes could see the relationship dynamic. You always doted behind Randal, doing anything he asked of you. And Randal was more than happy to have you crawl around for him if it meant you’d get a kiss.
It goes to say that you might seem more like a lover to Randal than a pet. He thinks himself lucky for not walking in on you guys yet…
Which might be why he was taken by Luther, Randal probably finds it more fun to torment and bother someone who wasn't as willing as you–
“Wait… I dont– I don't want to steal Randal from you! I actually want to get out of here–” He stammers before you cut him off with a laugh. A change in tone, good sign. “I know that, don't worry.” 
Sebastian sighs and relaxes a bit, but still fidgets with the white sleeves of his god awful outfit. It then clicks it might be about that dream guy Randal hasn't stopped boosting about recently. He almost certainly wants to roll his eyes. “Is it Satoru?” 
Immediately, you jump up and grab at Sebastian’s arms. “You see it too, right?! It's so annoying, I’m so sick of hearing about it every morning! We haven't even met the guy, but apparently they are best friends. Fucking stupid.”
Sebastian nodded along to your words. To him, it was annoying but it also occupied the eccentric weirdo. Better he’s entertained by Satoru than him. Still, he lets you complain, and it becomes evident to just how much this was eating you up inside.
You both don't realize how time has passed until Randal stampers into the room with an ominous black bag that is dripping green slime. Neither of you question it. 
“Whatcha’ talking about?” He swings the bag over his shoulders and nearly falls back with the force, catching himself.
Sebastian notices how you immediately smile at Randal despite the complaining you've been unloading onto him for the past couple hours, how ironic. “O-Oh, nothing much. How was your outing with Luther?” 
Randal shrugs and then drops the bag onto the couch, undoubtedly staining it with the goopy substance. Luther will have a problem with that later. 
“Within bounds. Now I’m just tired… how about we go to sleep!” He says it more like an order than a suggestion.
Your smile immediately drops, “It's like 6PM.” 
“Actuallyyyy, 6:38.”
---
You want to smack yourself for not being more welcoming to Sebastian, he actually isn't that bad of a guy. He’s still a bit awkward, (he seems to constantly radiate it) and he has no shame in expressing to you how he wants to escape the house. You giggle and give him a “good luck with that”
Still, he's easy to talk to with the ever growing free time you have now. Though, despite your attitude, a part of you still craves to be around Randal.
You wish you could prod into his brain and yank Satoru out of there. If he really wants Randal, he can fight you for it. You doubt he’s even strong outside of the stupid dream-plane he lives in. 
Unfortunately, you haven't been paying attention to the conversation with Sebastian, and now he's pausing for your reply. Sweat dropping, you let out a laugh, hoping it fits as a response.
He stares, “You think my goldfish getting run over is funny?” 
“No, no, I don't– wait? Run over? How’d–” 
The bewildered sentence doesn't get the chance to finish before the sensation of oddly cold, but familiar, hands wrap around your waist and drag into an adjacent room. 
“Randal– what do you want?” It comes out more harsh than you expected, and you can see the slight grimace on Randal’s face. 
His hands leave your waist, now folding across his chest, “Long time no see.” You fight the urge to roll your eyes, “Well, you've been a bit busy.”
Randal pauses before letting out a big laugh, “Doll, I always have time for you!” A traitorous blush spreads across your face, huffing, “Doesn't look like it.”
Randal steps a bit closer, “I thought Sebastian was keeping you plenty company.” His lips tug upward, “You two have gotten close, that's cute.”
His eyes contrast his smile, there's a clear coat of irk behind them. Holy shit, is he… jealous? You perk up, suddenly gaining some confidence… and leverage. 
“Yeah, we talk.” You show him a coy smile, his eye twitches for a second. “Awesome… about what, exactly? Tell me all the deets.”
“Oh, y’know.” 
“I don't, I literally don't.”
“What does it matter?” You hum cheekily before adding, “Anyways, isn't it past your bedtime right now?"
It was far too bold, but god, did it feel good to say. Randal reacts accordingly by pinning you against the wall. He's peeved, and you should really be scared, but you can't help but buckle at the proximity.
Randal’s voice is unusually low, his eyes staring into yours, “You’ve forgotten who you're talking to, doll. I think I need to remind you, heheh.”
Your confidence is beginning to crumble, but you still manage to get a reply out through quivering lips, “Sebastian is right outside.” Randal grins, “Good.”
A gloved hand trails your torso before it finds its way under the hem of your shorts and underwear, tugging them down and past your ankles. You have to hold back a gasp when a cold finger circles the pearl of your clit.
Randal draws closer, his hot breath pressed against your neck. A warm tongue laps up and down the side before teeth bite down and suckle on your sensitive skin.
Adrenaline and ache build as the latex of his fingers push into your entrance, pumping in and out of you. “Randal–” A moan gets caught in your throat when he speeds up slightly, angling upwards with his movements. 
Randal rasped, continuing to mark your neck with bites and hickeys, “No-no, pet, you know my name.” 
You do, “Master, please, m-more!” It’s shameless, and it’s aloof to how upset you were earlier. Now, you burn for more, bucking onto the length of his fingers.
You couldn't help but surrender to the overwhelming emotions – the hold he had over you was a force you couldn't deny, and certainly not control. There isn't anything holding you back from this. Not Satoru, not Sebastian, not even yourself.
Randal’s mouth hovers over yours, words tracing quivering lips, “That's right,” He grinds his erection against the tender flesh of your front, “ah–, let me hear those pretty noises!”
His touch only accentuates the pure excitement washes over the both of you, neither being able to remove sweaty hands off one another. 
Randal pins you further, hiking your legs up around his waist. His exposed cock rubs against your slick and pleading heat, relishing in the intoxicating shudder of your body. 
Your head rests on his shoulder, mouth agape as fingers tug at his hair, “S-Stop teasing!” 
You wrap your legs around him tighter in any attempt to heighten the friction, and Randal responds by gripping the bottom of your ass harder, “So needy, aren't you? Is that why you’ve been in such a mood? Can’t– ah, can’t handle not being the center of my attention? So jelly!”
An onslaught of groans fill the room, sputtering and begging for more. Randal grins against your neck, “Hah, how about you show me how much you need me?”
Randal then puts you down and pulls away, ignoring your whines about the wait. He shuts you up by motioning you to where he now sits, legs spread with his cock erect in his lap. 
Sweaty gloves hold onto your waist as you eagerly hover over his lap, “Can I? Can I, master, please?” Randal gives you a dopey smile, leaning to kiss your cheek, “I love it when you beg!” You groan and rut against him impatiently, “Oh, oh, yeah – get to it, pet.”
He’s right, you are incredibly needy. Despite all the sass and complaints, you truly can't help but rut into him. 
For now, you’ve completely given up any resentment towards Randal, instead relishing in the awaited pleasure he's giving you. A choir of slapping skin, moans, and praise cascade on the walls with pure want and need behind them. 
Your eyes never leave his, with Randal out right refusing to blink. He lays out under you, red spreads across his face, whether it blush or blood. His skin also glistens with sweat, downright uncomfortably sticky for any normal person. 
You aren't that type of person though, you're better than Satoru or Sebastian, or any other person he can waste his attention on. 
You want him to want you, like how you do him. Truly, you’ll take everything he gives and only ask for more.
Randal’s fingers start to dig into your hips, but he's nice enough to let you keep your own pace, encouraging your incredibly desperate movements. 
“Good pet,” His fingers dig even deeper, his own hips thrusting fervently against yours, “show me how much you want this.” His eyes never leave your body, admiring the way you bounce and quiver. 
Randal finds it addicting and oh-so adorable how he can completely make you come undone around him. He thinks himself kind for letting yourself prove how much you love him, but there really wasn't anything to worry about in truth.
He knows you’re so loyal, constantly aching just for him. But he still saw those sideways glances, how your mouth would pout, and the muttering between you and Sebastian. 
Your pettiness, though annoying, was because you missed your cute master… enough that you confided in Sebastian, leaving him out in turn. 
He can admit he got a bit caught up during his time with Satoru, but he's thankful now that he's reminded that nothing compares to how you surrender yourself to him. Randal knows you are his. He’ll make sure to show you time and time again.
Randal arches and humps into you, licking his upper lip to taste the blood that rests on it. Your own grip lies on his hips in an attempt to keep balance, the pace becoming feverish and hard to keep up. 
You croak out, feeling the knot in your abdomen grow tighter and tighter, “I think–” Randal eagerly nods, the twitch of his cock evident.
Your thighs quake, loud moans echoing off the vintage wallpaper of the room, orgasm ripping through you. Randal pushes his fingers into your hips one last time and follows suit, writhing under you.
Immediately, you allow yourself to rise a bit and lay on top of the young man, feeling how his rapidly breathing lungs press against your own. 
With labored breath, you choke out, “Can you… just spend more nights with me?” It's shy compared to the actions seconds earlier, but you still hold onto Randal’s form with that same desire. 
Randal laughs, slapping your bare ass cheekily, “If you wanted my attention,” He licks your earlobe, a hand resting on your waist, “You could’a just asked, doll.” 
You huff but still lean into his touch, pausing for a second before asking another question,
“...Do you think Sebastian heard us?”
“One grillion precent.”
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schmem14 · 2 years ago
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Petting Zoo
@sapphicmicrofics​​​​​​
Pairing: Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Hermione Granger Rating: M CW: Master/slave, pet play, implied rape/non-con WC: 50
*****
Pretty little animal, crawling on all fours.  She’s often defiant and needs to learn her place. “I think I’ll start my own petting zoo. You’ll be the prime attraction. How would you like being pleasured and punished by everyone, Mudblood?” The horror in those large brown eyes is fucking delicious. 
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darkwitchoferie · 3 months ago
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Stolen Hoodie
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Summary: You've been best friends with Chan since he started at your school. You've had a crush on him since you were both at least 20. Now you've decided it's time to ruin the friendship.
Cw/tw: daddy kink, praise kink, a lot of pet names (baby, pretty baby, good girl, etc), a little breath play, oral (both receiving), face-fucking, face-riding, unprotected vaginal sex (mc mentions she’s on birth control), thigh riding, nipple play, brief bit of angst (insecurities specifically), after care fluff. Also, did you know that like, 1/3 of the population has no gag reflex? That’s a wildly high number compared to what I thought.
Wc: 5.8k
This fic is part of a series of unconnected best friends to lovers fics, the others of which can be found on my Master list
You’ve been best friends with Chan since he moved to Seoul, basically. He’d started going to your school when you were both 13 and the two of you hit it off practically instantly. It wasn’t for another year that you learned he’d moved to become an idol.
Since then, you’d watched him work and struggle for his dream before finally, spectacularly, achieving it. You’ve met, and you adore, the seven other men who’ve achieved their dream with him.
You’ve also had a massive crush on him since you were 20. For years, you’ve relegated your crush to impossible-never-going-to-happen territory. And that was fine. Yeah, it was more than a simple crush now and that made things harder for you. But you’d rather suffer with unrequited love than lose him.
Except, you’ve started to notice little things that all add up to him wanting you too recently. Sometimes he would get this look in his eyes when he thinks you’re not paying attention, like he wanted to devour you. Other times, he’d look heartbreakingly fond.
Or, though he’s tried to hide it, you’ve noticed the way your best friend looks at you when you wear his clothes. It’s mostly things like borrowing his jacket when it gets colder than you expected so you didn’t have your own. Or one time when the pair of you got caught in the rain and you had to borrow a shirt and sweats while your clothes dried.
Just to test it, you’d lightly flirted with Hyunjin the other day. Nothing that couldn’t be excused as just friendly, but definitely enough to make someone with a crush jealous. You weren’t sure Hyunjin noticed you were flirting, but Chan certainly did. He’d clenched his jaw, eyes darkening, and quickly excused himself.
You were on your way up to his apartment for your semi-regular movie night. Jeongin was out for the weekend, visiting home, since the group had the time off. Glancing down at yourself, you adjusted the hoodie you’d snuck out of Chan’s room the previous week so that it hung almost completely over the shorts you were wearing, leaving only about 2 inches visible, before knocking on his door.
He answered the door with a smile that then froze on his face. You could practically see the blue screen in his eyes. “Hey Channie. We did agree on today, right?” You knew you had, but wanted to make sure the day didn’t start off awkward.
“Hm? Oh yeah. Sorry, I dunno what that was. Drifted off. Hi Y/nnie,” he tugged you into the apartment, wrapping you in a tight hug. “How was your week?”
As you ranted about your week, you toed off your sneakers, dropped your overnight bag, and followed him into the kitchen. He’d already made dinner, so the pair of you sat at the table while you ate and caught up.
You pretended to ignore that he wasn’t really listening to you, looking at your bare thighs where you sat beside him, or eyes traveling over your torso in his hoodie. That look that said he wanted to devour you was back in his eyes. Periodically, he’d catch himself staring, shake a hand like he was trying to shake himself out of it without making it obvious, then go back to trying to follow along with what you were saying. It never lasted long before he was staring at you again.
You noticed the bulge growing in his shorts – how could you not – but chose not to say anything about that either. Just like you were focusing on not giving in to your own arousal. Yet.
After you finished eating and cleaning up the kitchen, the pair of you started to head for the living room. But, you decided, that just wouldn’t do for what you wanted today.
“Hey Channie?”
“Yeah?”
“Can we go to your room? I just... after this week I could really use some quality cuddling time.” You hadn’t had a terrible week, it had been perfectly normal, but it’s not like he’d been paying enough attention to know that.
“Of course, sweetheart. Anything you need,” he answered with a sympathetic smile. You felt the tiniest twinge of guilt but reasoned that it was only a partial lie, and a white one at that. Besides, he’d have known you were lying if he’d been listening to you.
He headed to his room to set everything up, including his projector and setting his led lights to blue. You stayed in the kitchen, getting drinks and snacks for both of you, then followed him back. When you got to his room, he was sitting on the edge of his bed, facing the door, but not looking up.
You set the drinks and snacks on his desk and asked, “Everything okay, Channie?”
He looked up at you then took a deep breath. "I need you to take that off," he said, gesturing to his hoodie.
"Why?"
"Just... please?"
You shrugged and start to take it off. "Wait!” His shout stopped you. “Are you not wearing your own shirt under there?"
"No bra either," you said, lifting the hoodie high enough to flash him then dropping it back into place when he groaned and looked away. "What's the matter Channie?" you teased, getting close to where he was sitting on his bed. This was going better than you anticipated. Or, faster at least. You thought for sure he’d try to hold off until you were cuddled together in bed. "Ya know that look you get when you think I'm not paying attention? The one that says you wanna devour me? What would you say if I want you to give in to that look, Chan?"
"Don't.” You watched his hands nervously running up and down his thighs, tugging at the hems of his shorts.
"Don't what?"
"Don't say things you'll regret later."
"No regrets here. I love the way you look at me. The way you've been trying not too look at me since I showed up wearing this.” You’d been steadily moving closer and were damn near in his lap now, knees nearly pressed against one of his knees. You stuffed your hands in the hoodie pocket to avoid the temptation to touch him. You wanted him to be the one to make that move. “Channie?” He still didn’t look up at you, so you decided to play your ace.
~ About 1 month previous ~
Neither of you was drunk, but you may as well have been. You were both so sleep deprived, you were impressed you were able to hold your eyes open. But Chan had been gone on tour for ages and you didn’t want to miss out on any time with him while you had it. Clearly, he felt the same way as he hadn’t even hinted at going to bed.
You weren’t sure how the conversation had started, but you were complaining about how unsatisfied you were by your ex. You’d broken up while Chan was away and now you felt free to complain about all the things that had annoyed or pissed you off about him. Like how he never texted first, that he thought you wouldn’t want something for Valentine’s day despite you mentioning how excited you were about the upcoming day.
“And!” You said, sitting up from where you’d been slouching on the ground against his bed beside him. “He never got me off! Well, not never, just very occasionally. Like, okay, I understand that some kinks aren’t for everybody. And it’s not like I wanted him to choke me every time we had sex – but sometimes at least. Plus, I thought guys like having sex without a condom?! I have an IUD, we were both clean, we’d have been fine!”
“Hang on, are you telling me you have a breeding kink?”
You faltered for just a second, kind of surprised you’d said that. “Okay yeah,” you admitted after a moment. “That’s not the issue here, Chan.”
“I mean, maybe it was for him? Did you ever talk about it?”
“Yeah. He thought it was weird.” Chan scoffed. “I know! And it’s not like I was asking him to hit me or anything extreme. I don’t like that. Just a little light choking and some hair pulling, ya know? Some praise, tell me I look good. Call me a slut if the situation calls for it. It’s not asking for much, I don’t think. But he was... boring. Like, don’t get me wrong, I enjoy missionary, but there are other positions.”
It seemed admitting to your best friend that you had a breeding kink had taken away any filter you may have otherwise had. Or it was the sleep deprivation. Either way, despite a part of you thinking you should, you just couldn’t stop talking.
“And then! Okay, worth saying, I don’t like the overly-jealous, you-can’t-have-any-male-interaction-at-all thing. That’s toxic as fuck. But like, if we’re out and someone’s blatantly flirting with me in front of you, at least act like we’re together, ya know? A hand on my hip, kiss my cheek or neck? Then a quiet promise to me that later that you’ll remind me who I really belong to. Just a little possessive, enough to make a girl feel wanted. Not that I’m surprised he didn’t, not really. He barely made me feel wanted in bed, why would he out of bed?”
You sighed heavily. “I should’ve known it wasn’t gonna last though. He was nice enough, but like.... I dunno, Channie. I’m an independent woman,” you looked to him for acknowledgement.
“You are,” he agreed easily.
“And I can take care of myself.”
“You can.”
“But sometimes, I just want someone else to take care of me for a little while, ya know?”
“I can appreciate that.”
You sighed again, slumping back down against the bed. You were both quiet for a few minutes, long enough that you wondered if he’d fallen asleep. Glancing over, you saw that he hadn’t.
“What about you?” you asked.
“What about me?”
“I just shared like so much about my sex life. What about you? Do you have any kinks to share with the class?” you gestured to the completely empty bedroom.
“You shared unprompted though. I didn’t ask for that information, but now it’s in my head. Why does that mean I have to share?”
“So I don’t feel so alone here. Please?” you batted your eyelashes at him. He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his hair and mumbled something. “What?” He repeated it just loud enough for you to hear. “You have a daddy kink? Ya know, not actually surprised by that.”
“You’re not weirded out by it? Like, plenty of people are.”
“Best friend,” you held your hand to your own chest. “That means, totally judgement free.”
Eventually, the pair of you fell asleep in his bed, him spooned behind you, like you had countless times through the years. Neither of you mentioned the kink discussion after you woke up, but you, at least, never forgot it.
~ End Flashback ~
"Please, Daddy,” you nearly whined the words out. Chan's eyes snapped back to you then and you smiled in triumph. "Don't make me beg for what we both want."
"And what exactly do you want?" His eyes had darkened, the pupils blowing out, but he was still trying to hold onto his self control as he gripped the edge of his bed. The tone in his voice and look in his eyes had a rush of arousal gushing from you.
You wanted your voice to come out sultry, seductive. Instead, you feared you sounded desperate. Which you were, but you didn’t need to sound like it. "Want you to ruin me. Wanna feel that thick cock I've seen in your sweats spilt me open and claim me. I wanna be fucked so hard that I'll still feel you when I move tomorrow. Want you to fuck me raw, Daddy, so I can feel you cum in me."
His hand shot up to wrap around your neck, applying just the slightest pressure. Not enough to cut any air flow, just enough so you knew he could. "You think you can take it?" You whimpered in response, pussy clenching. "Shorts and panties off, baby girl. Leave the hoodie on." You stepped out of just your shorts. "No panties either? Naughty girl."
"Wanted it to be easy for you, Daddy." He groaned, pulling you in for a hard, sloppy kiss by your neck, his other hand reaching for your pussy.
"Good god, baby girl. You're already so wet for me, huh?"
"Always wet for you." He muffled his groan against your neck, biting and sucking a bruise into your skin as his fingers slid back and forth along your wet folds, avoiding your clit, a single finger just barely dipping into your cunt and making you whine with want.
Sliding his hand from your pussy to your hip, he tugged you down to straddle his thigh. His shorts rode up a little with your movement, so you were sitting against his bare thigh.
With a whimper, your hips started rocking, almost without your conscious decision to do so. "Yeah, baby? Does Daddy's thigh feel good on your soaked pussy?"
"Feels so good. Love feeling you on my pussy. Can't wait to have you in me, Daddy."
"You cum on my thigh like a good girl and I promise I'll fuck you so good, baby girl,” he said against the side of your neck. The hand that had been around your neck came down onto your other hip. His grip was firm as he helped keep you flush against his thigh while you rocked your hips. He flexed his thigh muscles, pressing up more firmly against your cunt, making you whimper and drop your head forward, your hands coming up to brace on his shoulder and chest.
From the corner of your eye, you watched him watch you. His eyes bounced from your slick covering his thigh, to your face, to as much of your cunt as he could see. You raised your head to look at him and saw him hesitate for just a second, before he said, voice husky with want, “Such a needy little slut, aren’t you?”
You moaned, back arching, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, and pussy clenching around nothing. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a fierce, possessive kiss.
You were a little surprised at how close to the edge you were getting, just riding his thigh. Despite the delicious friction against your clit on every motion, you’d been sure it would take more. But the quivering in your thighs and tightening in your belly assured you that you were wrong. You shifted your rocking motions as you got closer, swiveling your hips instead. That motion worked so much better and had you pulling away from Chan’s mouth, head tossed back with a moan as you came all over his thigh.
“You did so good baby girl,” Chan said, soothingly rubbing his hands up and down your thighs as you came down from your high.
“Yeah?”
“Mm. Made such a mess of my thigh too. Love watching you make a mess of me.”
“Oh really?”
He tugged your hand off his chest, bringing it down to press against his clothed erection. “Yeah, baby girl.”
“Oh God.” You wrapped your hand around him as well as you were able considering the clothes that were still in the way. Your mouth started to water at the prominent outline of his cock. “I need…. I need….”
“What do you need? Tell Daddy, whatever it is,” he squeezed your thigh reassuringly.
“Oh God. I need to taste you, need to suck your cock.” You scrambled back off his thigh, dropping quickly to your knees just in front of his legs. “Please, Daddy?”
He groaned, dropping forward to press his forehead to yours. “You’re a dream, baby girl,” he muttered, softly enough that you weren’t sure you were meant to hear it. He sat up and quickly pushed his shorts and boxers down his legs, kicking them off to the side somewhere.
The outline through his clothes didn’t do him justice, to your mind. His cock was gorgeous, long, and thicker than any you’d had before, with just the slightest curve. His tip was leaking precum and you couldn’t wait to taste it. You shuffled forward on your knees, making yourself comfortable between his thighs. You raised a hand, lightly scratching your nails down his inner thigh and watched his cock twitch at the action.
“Wait, baby,” he suddenly leaned back, almost laying flat on the bed. When he straighten back up, he held one of his pillows. “Here, lift up just a bit.”
You should have expected that, even in this, he would be looking out for you. Before anything else, Chan was your best friend. You situated yourself comfortably on the pillow then leaned forward and licked a thick strip up the underside of his cock, swirling your tongue around his head and gathering his precum on your tongue. You hummed, enjoying the taste of him on your tongue, before opening your mouth and sliding down on just the first inch or so.
You felt his fingers weave into your hair as you sank further onto his cock. You relaxed, breathing through your nose, until you sank down completely, your nose buried in his pubic hair. You held yourself down until you felt his hips kick up. Smiling internally, you lifted part way off his cock, keeping his tip in your mouth, before sinking down again. You set a comfortable pace, bobbing your head up and down, swirling your tongue around his tip.
Then Chan changed the angle on you by standing up. “Baby, can I...?” He trailed off, thrusting his hips slightly. In response, you relaxed back on your heels, held your mouth open, tongue out, and just looked up at him. “Oh God damn.” He used the grip he had on your hair to hold your head still as he steadily thrust into your waiting mouth.
His grip on your hair tightened as he sped up, pulling on the roots. You moaned around him, eyes rolling up with the combination of the pain of him pulling your hair and the pleasure of him using your mouth. “Look at you,” his voice was breathy and low as he spoke. “Such a pretty slut with my cock in your mouth.” You moaned, pussy clenching at the praise and saliva leaking onto your chin from around his cock.
You got lost in the pleasure of his cock on your tongue and the praise continuously falling from his lips in that breathy, low tone that you just knew you’d be addicted to by the end of the night. You felt his cock start to twitch in your mouth before he could warn you. When he sank completely into your mouth, you gripped his hips to hold him there and intentionally swallowed around his head a few times, until he was coming down your throat, head dropped forward and eyes locked on you.
He dragged you up off the floor with his hands under your arms and collapsed back onto the bed with you on top of him while he worked to catch his breath.
“God baby, I’m almost afraid to ask how you got so good at that.”
You smiled slightly. “I have no gag reflex,” you answered. “Nothing dramatic.”
He tugged his shirt off, successfully doing so without making you get off him, and used it to wipe the drool from your face before tossing it somewhere off the bed. He claimed your lips in a hungry kiss, one hand sliding down and between your legs. This time, he didn’t just tease – almost immediately he pushed two fingers into you, swallowing your moans.
You broke away from his lips, moaning against his neck as he hooked his fingers to rub against that spongy part of your walls that had you clenching around him.
“Yeah, baby? That feel good?” You whimpered, nodding against him. He added his thumb against your clit, rubbing circles on the sensitive bud. You writhed against him, bucking your hips against his leg where you laid. Then, just as you could feel your orgasm coming, he pulled his hand away.
His chuckle cut off in a moan when you whined, “Daddy, was so close.”
“I know baby girl. Come here, Daddy needs to taste you.” He manhandled you into position over his face. You were a little hesitant, having never had a boyfriend who’d wanted you to sit on his face before. “Sit, baby. I can take it.” When you still hesitated, he gripped your hips and pulled you down onto his mouth.
The moan you let out was something straight from a porno as he immediately thrust his tongue into you and started lapping at you like it was the only thing keeping him alive. His nose bumped against your clit with every motion of his mouth and tongue.
“Oh God,” you reached down, tangling your fingers in his hair as you felt your denied orgasm building back up. His hands smoothed over your hips and thighs, no longer holding you against him as you rutted against his mouth. He shifted slightly to wrap his lips around your clit and gently sucked it into his mouth, flicking his tongue against it until you arched back, pressing your cunt more firmly against his face and moaning his name as your orgasm rushed through you.
His responding moan vibrated against your pussy as he continued to lap at you through the aftershocks. “Good girl,” he praised, helping you slide off his face and onto the bed. “So good to me, letting me eat you out like that.” He leaned over you, claiming your lips and pushing his tongue into your mouth, letting you taste yourself.
Without breaking your kiss, he manhandled you until you were lying against his pillow. Then he broke away, trailing kisses down your jaw and neck, pausing to suck a bruise into the skin of your neck. He pulled back to look down at you for a second.
“Time to take this off, wanna see those pretty tits again.” Chan tugged his hoodie off of you, tossing it across the room. “God, look at you. Gorgeous.” He sat back on his heels, just admiring you for a moment, running his fingers over your thighs. You returned the favor, openly gaping at the well defined chest and abs you’d always been able to feel any time the pair of you hugged or cuddled together.
Then he was back on you, picking up his trail of kisses from the hickey he’d left on you. He continued kissing down over your chest, capturing one nipple between his lips, sucking the bud into his mouth while he pinched and rolled the other between his fingers. Then he switched sides. He had you moaning and writhing under him as he sucked a hickey into the side of your tit, then against your ribs, and another on your belly.
You tugged his hair, unable to take it anymore, moaning out when he looked up at you. “Please, need you to fuck me Daddy.”
“Okay, baby girl,” he grinned at you, that dimpled grin that was as familiar to you as your own face bringing on a gush of arousal as he hovered over you. After a swift kiss, he leaned over the edge of the bed, grabbing the pillow you’d been kneeling on. You lifted your hips for him to slide it under you.
He wrapped your legs over his hips and steadily slid into you, watching your face the whole time. Once fully inside you, Chan leaned down and pressed his lips to your forehead. When he pulled back, he offered you a sweet smile. His thrusts started slow, like he was savoring the feeling of being inside you. Every time he bottomed out, you could swear you felt him in your stomach. You couldn’t take your eyes off his face, watching every expression.
He readjusted himself on his knees, gripped your hips tighter, pulled out and slammed back in, pulling a strangled moan from your throat. He smirked down at you, keeping this new, harder pace. You flailed for a few seconds until you grasped his forearms, nails digging in.
“That’s it, baby girl. Look at you, taking my cock so well. Wish you could see how well my cock splits open this pussy,” he spoke between thrusts, voice low and almost sounding like he was growling out the words. “God, you feel so good around me. Warm and wet and perfectly snug. Like you were made to take my cock.” He groaned, dropping his head forward for just a moment before suddenly pulling out.
“It’s okay, pretty baby,” Chan soothed when you whined as he pulled out of you. “Here, just need to flip you over.” He quickly had you in the position he wanted – face and shoulders pressed to the bed, ass up. He gripped your hips hard, sliding back into you. The new angle felt amazing and you clutched the sheets as he started thrusting into you.
“God, baby, wish you could see yourself. See the way you take my cock so good,” he groaned out between thrusts. You whined, pushing your hips back against him. He draped himself over your back, pressing open mouthed, sloppy kisses against your shoulder. Then one of his hands left your hip to wrap around the front of your neck.
Using the hold he now had on you, he lifted you up with him, so your back stayed against his chest. You brought one hand to grip his thigh but the other one slid down your own belly and then you felt it. You looked down, just to see that you were feeling what you knew you were. “Oh God,” you moaned, seeing the bulge of his cock every time he slammed into you. “Channie,” you whined.
“What is it baby?”
“Feel.” You pulled the hand that had been on your hip over to your belly, pressing his hand against the bulge in you.
He groaned, burying his face against your shoulder and tightening his hold around your neck. You felt more than heard him whine when you clenched tightly around his cock. You could still breath, but his grip was definitely tight enough for you to get that lovely light headed feeling.
“You gonna cum, pretty baby? I can feel you gripping me. You gonna be a good girl and cum on Daddy’s cock?” You nodded as well as you could, feeling the coil tightening in your belly. He squeezed your neck hard enough to cut off your air flow, just for a second. As soon as he relaxed his grip, you gushed around his cock, orgasm crashing through you.
You were pretty sure you blanked out for a few seconds because the next thing you knew, Chan’s hand was pressed against your chest, between your tits, to hold you up and he was muttering against your neck about how good you felt coming on his cock. His thrusts had also slowed noticeably.
“Mm, back with me baby girl?” You nodded. “Gonna need words.”
It was a struggle for a moment, getting your mouth to form the words you needed. “Yes,” you nodded again. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
“Oh baby, you are more than okay.” You could hear the teasing edge in his voice, chuckling a little. Now that he knew you were okay, his hips picked up again, driving his cock as deep into you as he could. The hand that had been on the bulge in your belly slid down your body until his fingers slid over your clit.
You moaned, tossing your head back against his shoulder, as he rubbed firm circles against the bundle of nerves. You hadn’t thought you had another orgasm in you, particularly this soon. But you were wrong. You could already feel it building up.
He suddenly pulled out and flipped you back onto your back, then slammed back into you. “Wanna see your face when I cum in you. See your face when I make a mess in this pretty pussy,” he said over the squelching noises your pussy made with every thrust.
“Gonna fill me up? Make me all nice and messy, Daddy?” Chan groaned, dropping his face forward against your neck, and biting down harshly where your neck and shoulder met. You arched, the orgasm that had been building very suddenly crashing over you.
He pulled away, surprise on his face that mirrored your own. He didn’t comment though, instead lifting one of your legs and pressing it back toward your chest as he chased his own orgasm. It only took a handful of thrusts more before he was stilling inside you and you felt his cock twitch in your cunt, filling you with his warmth.
He collapsed against you and you held him tightly for a moment, both of you panting, until he pulled out of you as gently as he could. Still, you whined with the loss of his body on yours as he flopped down next to you.
“Who’d have thought I liked being bitten that much?” you commented after you got your breath back.
Beside you, Chan chuckled. “You really didn’t know?”
“No one’s ever bitten me before. Like little love bites or hickeys, sure. But a bite like that? Nope.”
He rolled on his side, fingers lightly tracing over the spot he’d bitten. “I may have left a mark,” he admitted.
“I have a bite mark on my neck?” you giggled. “Goes with the other marks. Pretty sure I’ll have finger bruises on my hips.”
The pair of you were quiet for a bit while he traced his fingers over the mark on your neck, down your torso, over the red marks on your hips. You could practically feel him thinking and you weren’t sure at all that you were gonna like where his thoughts were going, but you didn’t say anything for fear you were wrong about what he was thinking. You waited, knowing he’d tell you.
“You were wrong,” he whispered after a while.
“’Bout what?” you asked, matching his tone.
“About not regretting it,” he spoke quickly, like trying to rip off the metaphorical bandage. “You will. You’ll say we should just be friends and then you’ll feel awkward about it and pull away from me. And I’ll lose you. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have given in, I knew it. But I wanted – want – you so bad I –” You hated the sureness and sorrow in his tone.
“Why would I, Channie?” You interrupted, your tone soft but firm. “I’ve been in love with you for years. How could I possibly regret finally having you?”
“Ah!” You giggled as he propped himself up on his elbow to look down at you, the tears you’d heard in his voice, swimming in his eyes. “What?!”
“You heard me,” you smiled up at him, reaching up and cupping his cheek. “I can’t pinpoint the exact moment I fell in love with you, but I know I am. I love you, Channie.”
He leaned in, quickly scattering kisses over your forehead, cheeks, and nose, making you giggle. Then he stilled, pressing 1 – 2 – 3 soft kisses to your lips. “I love you too,” he sighed happily, a few relieved tears slipping down his cheeks. He spent another minute brushing his fingers over your skin – from your neck, down between your breasts, over your belly and back up again. “Wait here,” he pressed a kiss to your temple and rolled out of bed.
He didn’t bother pulling his boxers or anything else back on as he headed toward the bathroom. You lay on his bed, appreciating the view as he walked out. You heard the shower turn on, then he was back. He scooped you out of the bed, one arm under your knees the other under your shoulders. “Channie! Put me down, I’m too heavy!”
“You are not,” he rolled his eyes fondly as he carried you into the bathroom. Together, the pair of you showered and you let Chan gently wash you then wrap a towel around you when you stepped out of the shower. Back in his room, he gently toweled you dry and sat you on his desk chair while he quickly changed his bed sheets. Then he silently stood in front of one of his open dresser drawers.
“What’s wrong?” You asked after a moment.
“You should have something to sleep in, because I don’t know how well I’ll be able to resist you naked in my bed. But, in my t-shirt in my bed presents the same issue.”
“I did bring my overnight bag, it’s in the living room. It has my pajamas in it.”
“No.”
Smirking to yourself, you stood up from where you’d moved to sit on the edge of the bed. “I could always grab something of Innie’s. Surely he wouldn’t –” you cut yourself off at the possessive, warning look he shot you. “Or not,” you said with a small smile. He narrowed his eyes at you until you sat back down.
After a minute, he walked back out to the living room, coming in with your pajama shorts in one hand and the bag in the other. He dropped your bag beside his dresser, snagged one of his black tank tops, and tossed the two articles of clothes at you. You pulled on your clothes while he pulled on just a pair of boxers. Once he pulled on his clothes, he grabbed the snacks and drinks you’d brought in and piled them on his bedside table. Without a word, he pulled up some movie the pair of you had seen a bunch of times on Netflix, reclined against his headboard, and tugged you to lay back against his chest, between his legs.
“Here, baby. Drink this,” he opened and held out one of the fruit juices to you. Then, when you handed it back, he started steadily feeding you snacks.
It’s not like it was much, just fruit juice and pretzels, but after showering you – God. It was so sweet, so caring of him that you felt tears gathering.
“Baby, are you okay?” You were, truly, but you couldn’t find words to reassure him and tell him why you were crying all of a sudden. You could only nod. Apparently, he understood anyway. “You’re an independent woman, I know. But sometimes, it’s nice to let someone else take care of you.” He used as close to your own phrasing from that sleep deprived day as he could. He pressed a kiss to your temple. “That’s what Daddy’s here for, sweet girl.”
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crushmeeren · 5 months ago
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༝ ᭝ ༝ REALISTIC SEX / SCENARIOS WITH NARUTO MEN ༝ ᭝ ༝
⤷ ⋆ ft. itachi, neji, sasuke, kakashi ⋆
master list
cw ; MDNI — reader has trouble reaching an orgasm with itachi, neji struggles to get hard, not sure if it’s classified as somnophilia with sasuke but he wakes you up by playing with your pussy, kakashi cums too fast + he eats you out afterwards.
ᯓ★ dividers created by me.
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༝ ᭝ ༝ itachi ༝ ᭝ ༝
⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣
There are moments when your mind and body seem to disconnect.
Times, like the present, when Itachi leads you to bed with the intention of tasting your orgasm on his tongue, fingers curled straight into your g-spot. Itachi never fails to paint a pretty picture between your legs, eyes heavy lidded as he stares up at you, warm tongue licking your clit in a strong, steady rhythm. There’s an ache in your chest from the view.
Your brain screams with desire for your husband, frustration starting to well up in your throat because you’re trying with all your might to cum for him. Clenching the muscles in your pelvis, holding your breath until the knot in your lower belly goes taught. But it’s like sand slipping through your fingers any time Itachi moves so much as a centimeter out of place.
It’s not his fault. Itachi’s been diligent in his efforts to arouse you. Working out the tense knots hiding in your back and shoulders, kissing you until you’re dizzy, whispering praise and sweet, filthy nothings in your ear. He’s been eating your pussy for at least fifteen minutes.
Gritting your teeth, you push the heel of your palm against Itachi’s forehead, eyes stinging with defeat. “Itachi, baby, you can stop. It’s not gonna happen.”
Itachi pulls back to stare up at you in concern, deep voice soothing. “Are you sure, sweetheart? I’m happy to continue.” The pads of his fingers pet over your g-spot as proof, and the jolt of pleasure coaxes a soft moan from your lips.
You nod. “I’m sure,” you murmur. Itachi hums, lips cherry red, and there’s a sense of loss when he frees his fingers. He crawls up beside you and shifts to lay flat on his back.
“Would you be interested in riding me? I know it helps you reach your peak much quicker.” Itachi extends a hand your way. You glance between the small, encouraging smile on his face and the rock hard cock resting on his pelvis.
You grip his hand and straddle his hips. He’s irresistible.
“Are you okay with this position?” Your voice is breathy, anticipation buzzing in your veins. Raising up to your knees you reach down to steady his shaft, sliding the tip between your lips and line him up with your pussy. You begin to sit down, enjoying the slow stretch his cock provides, and don’t bother to wait for his answer.
Itachi white knuckles your hips, gasping, and digs his thumbs into the bone. “I — oh god, you know I’ll have you any way,” he manages to say through a moan.
With that, you brace your hands on Itachi’s flushed chest and start to bounce in his lap. Strong hands find their way to your butt and help support your movement, Itachi’s biceps flexing each time he pushes you upwards. Your husband’s right, as usual, and when you get close to the edge you sit with your ass flush to his pelvis, rolling your hips back and forth, and moan his name as his tip presses snug to your g-spot.
After your first orgasm, it’s much easier for Itachi to draw a second one from you. Only this time, your face is in the sheets and your ass is in the air.
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༝ ᭝ ༝ neji ༝ ᭝ ༝
⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣
Neji is smart.
A prodigy, a genius, a phenomenal sensei — one of the highest ranked shinobi in all of Konoha. There’s no argument that Neji wears a lot of responsibility on his shoulders, and he returns home worn to the bone most evenings. You miss him, but he loves it, and the ache in your heart quiets when he manages to secure a day for you to spend together.
So naturally, sometimes, even when Neji’s belly burns white hot with arousal, he struggles to get hard.
He’s tired.
But even so, Neji’s throat still vibrates with a low moan when you plant a kiss in the hollow of it, sucking the skin between your lips, biting down and rolling it between your teeth. His fingers find your hair and thread through, content to ride along for the journey as you kiss his collarbone, over the defined muscle of his pecs, all the way down until your tongue runs along the crease of his inner thigh. He smells clean, like his body wash, and his knee jerks in response.
He avoids your ribs by an inch.
His cock’s filled out a quarter of the way by the time you reach it. It doesn’t deter you in the slightest. You lick from base to tip and Neji chokes on his next breath, head thrown into the pillow, when you swallow his soft, warm cock like you’re starving. Neji cries out and your scalp stings, hair wound tight around his fingers.
“Baby,” Neji breathes, voice cracking, and his hips buck up because he can’t quite sit still. “Don’t stop, please.”
You hollow your cheeks and suck, working him with your tongue until the muscle in your jaw aches. Despite your best efforts, Neji remains half hard. Even when you use your fingers to squeeze and play with his balls.
Neji’s noise of frustration pulls your mouth from his cock, watching it slap wet and sticky against his pelvis. You push up and sit on your calves, sending your husband a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, Neji. I don’t mind using my fingers.”
Nevermind that your pussy is so wet it spreads to your inner thighs whenever you shift your weight.
His face twists, distaste obvious. “I want you,” he affirms, pushing up to his elbows. “Talk to me.”
One of your eyebrows hikes up. “Talk to you?”
“Tell me what you want me to do to you,” he clarifies, a dusty pink blossoming on his cheeks. His gaze stays firm.
You take Neji’s cock in hand, squeezing, stroking once. He’s still slick with your saliva. The heat of embarrassment crawls up your neck and you swallow your hesitation. “Neji,” you begin lowly, voice thick with lust. “Please. I need you to use your pretty cock and fuck me. My pussy is so empty without you, I need my husband.”
Neji’s breath hitches, cock swelling fully in your palm as you stroke him faster, twisting your wrist. Neji sits straight up, catches you by the forearm, and pushes you onto your back.
With little fanfare, Neji settles between your thighs. He slides inside you to the hilt, pushes your knees to your chest, and promises, “I’m going to make you cum on my cock.”
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༝ ᭝ ༝ sasuke ༝ ᭝ ༝
⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣
Sasuke looked…good, tonight. Really good.
So much so that you’d been staring at him without an ounce of shame for the last ten minutes as he cut vegetables for dinner. It’s impressed you since the beginning how fluid he moves with one arm.
For awhile, the only noise in the room was the sharp crunch of Sasuke’s knife slicing through various veggies.
“Enjoying the show? Anything I can do to improve your viewing pleasure?” Sasuke’s voice rings out, the playful lilt to it showcasing his teasing. He shifts his head to glance at you out the side of his eye, hair swaying just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his rinnegan.
“Well,” you begin, dragging out the word as you rise from your chair and saunter up behind your husband. Your arms wrap around his waist, hugging him tight, and you relax into the heat bleeding through his shirt. “If you take your shirt off, I wouldn’t be opposed.”
Sasuke’s quiet laugh makes you bury your face further into his back, smiling to yourself. “Is that so? What if I get cold?” Sasuke chops straight through a cucumber.
“I’ll keep you warm,” you promise, playing with the hem of his t-shirt. Sneaky fingers slip under his shirt, tracing feather light over the skin right above his waistband. Sasuke’s breath catches, and goosebumps are waiting for you by the time your fingers trail over his ribs.
Sasuke sets his knife down on the cutting board and snatches one of your hands before it vanishes below his sweats. “After dinner.”
You pout, but respect his decision and untangle yourself from Sasuke.
As soon as you’ve finished eating you climb into your husband’s lap to make out with him, ignoring the movie you’d put on as if it never existed. Sasuke eventually maneuvers you out of his lap, stands, and leads you to your room. Once your clothes are scattered across the bed you shove Sasuke onto his back and resume straddling his hips, bracing your hands by his head, tits in his face as he cups one and sucks on your tender nipple.
He’s half hard beneath you, moaning with each roll of your pussy back and forth along his cock. Your clit throbs with flickers of pleasure, but soon you find the heavy fatigue of the day catching up to you out of nowhere, battling the urge to lay down beside him and sleep. You want Sasuke, there’s no doubt, but you can tell his heart’s not in it. Neither is yours.
Your hips come to a halt, hand lifting from the bed to brush the hair off his forehead. “Sasuke,” you murmur, toes curling lightly as he sucks your nipple once more and releases it with a pop.
“Hm?” He asks, meeting your gaze.
You give him a sheepish smile. “Would you rather have sex in the morning?”
You’d be offended by the relief in Sasuke’s eyes if you weren’t feeling the exact same. You slide off his lap and snuggle into his chest after he nods, arousal fading and drowsiness weighing you down instead.
You’re expecting it when slender fingers shake you from the haze of sleep in the morning, pressed to your clit and rubbing in steady circles, blood heating and thickening into something sweet like honey.
Sasuke shifts lower in his place behind you, warm breath tickling the nape of your neck. He clutches your thigh and lifts, nudging his tip to your pussy. With a slow press, he seals you together, pausing with his hips flush to your ass as his cock throbs.
Sasuke fucks you slow and deep, the perfect pace for a sleepy morning spent tangled in the sheets.
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༝ ᭝ ༝ kakashi ༝ ᭝ ༝
⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣
After Kakashi passed the mantle of Hokage to Naruto, you assumed your husband would have more free time.
To be fair, for the most part, your theory rings true.
Sometimes, however, Kakashi is sent to deal with short missions. Which by all means isn’t an issue, but now and then he’ll get delayed. Stuck out in the field for weeks instead of days.
In the grand scheme of your relationship with Kakashi, two weeks is a minuscule amount of time to go without sex. Especially after all the years Kakashi spent coming and going on assignments before he took over as Hokage.
You’d just gotten used to getting Kakashi’s dick on a semi regular basis is all, so the two weeks he’d been gone this time felt like months. The day he returned, Kakashi got stuck doing debriefs before returning home to take the hottest bath known to mankind.
You remained patient. Barely. Lounging on your bed, staring at the ceiling until your eyes crossed waiting for your husband. As soon as he wanders into the bedroom, leaving wet footprints all over the floor, you hop off the bed and shove at his stomach, forcing him to land on the mattress. It knocks the wind out of him, eyes going wide as you yank his towel free.
“Fuck,” Kakashi groans, voice somewhat strained. “You miss me that much baby girl?” You place a knee on the bed, falling forward to crawl up the bed and straddle Kakashi. His hands shoot out, clinging to your hips while you sit down heavy in his lap.
Kakashi’s chest is firm and warm when your palms make contact, bracing your weight, pushing in close with a teasing grin. “I only missed your dick.”
He laughs, eyes crinkling at the sides. “Just my dick? Not the person attached to it?” Kakashi snakes his arms around your waist, hugging you to his chest, and traps your arms between your bodies. Your forehead playfully knocks against his.
“That’s correct. Just your dick, not the husband connected.”
Kakashi pouts. Then the world shifts and you squeak as Kakashi throws his weight to the side, rolling and crushing you, nestling himself snug between your thighs. “That’s mean, I’m hurt. Heartbroken!”
Your lips tug upwards as you squirm to free your arms, running them up his biceps, his shoulders, and frame the sides of his neck. “Aw my poor baby, will it help if I kiss it better?”
“I’m fatally wounded by your words, but I suppose you can try,” he teases, wearing a coy grin that rivals your own. You laugh and guide him down into a kiss, lips meeting hot and slick. Lust gathers rich and honeyed in your lower belly.
You’ve missed him so much, the sensation similar to tiny blades slipping between your rib cage. Kakashi whispers sweet nothings to you as he strips you bare, pussy pulsing from the nasty words. The entirety of your focus becomes centered on his cock when he slides home, forgoing the foreplay in favor of having you wrapped around him.
Kakashi picks up a quick rhythm, hooking your knees over his elbows, bending you in half, and snaps his hips as if he’s chasing a sweet pleasure that remains an inch out of reach.
Fingers locking tight around his biceps, pleasure coils tight and hot in your pelvis, thighs twitching the closer you get. Kakashi lets out a telltale moan that pitches higher at the end, a surefire sign that he’s this close to cumming, and your eyes fly open. Your husband’s are squeezed shut, lips parted as he pants.
You smack his chest, startling his eyes open wide. “K-Kakashi! Don’t you fucking dare cum yet!” You warn, his cock jerking in response.
Kakashi shivers. “I —,” he cuts himself off with a cry, shoving himself in until his hip bones are digging into your ass, grinding hard as a new warmth blooms inside you. Your own high fades fast into the background.
You wiggle with enough force that he drops your legs. “Kakashi you jerk! I was so close!”
“I’m sorry! Two weeks is a long time!” He defends, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck, expression sheepish. Kakashi’s now soft cock slips free, and he scoots down onto his belly, face to face with your pussy. “I won’t leave you on the edge, I promise baby.”
The insult you were about to hurl at him disappears when his soft tongue drags up the seam of your pussy, lips parting under the gentle pressure. “Play with yourself,” he murmurs, kissing your clit once before placing his tongue where his cock had been, not the least bit bothered by the taste of his own release.
The relief of your fingers finding your clit is dizzying, rubbing tight, fast circles that arch your spine. Heat surges and resurfaces, the pleasure manipulated with ease by your fingers. As soon as that knot starts to release in your belly your fingers thread through Kakashi’s white hair, jerking his mouth to your clit. He follows your silent plea, lips sealing and tongue flicking to push you over the edge.
Heat prickles through your limbs, a soft cry of his name spilling past your lips. He only quits when you shove at his forehead, hips twitching away from his mouth. He dips his tongue in your pussy before pulling away, choosing to raise up and sit on his knees instead. His lips and chin are shiny.
“So….,” He begins, patting your inner thigh a few times in comfort once you’ve melted into the mattress.
You pry an eye open to peak at his cheeky smile. “You’re forgiven.”
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chris-prank · 5 months ago
Text
A desperate yandere in your area
Chapter 4 : Sweet reward
Sub pathetic yandere x GN reader
Previous chapter
(This is a work of fiction for entertainment purposes only, I do not support yandere behaviors in real life)
CW: NSFW, dom reader, bottom reader, sub yandere, collar, leash, praise kink, pet play, teasing, porn with plot, raw sex, yandere behavior and reader is horny too
Word count: Over 3K
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It was late in the evening. You entered your apartment with hunched shoulders under the weight of your bag. As you threw it on the ground, relief coursed through your whole body.  Suddenly, a familiar voice made your heart skip a beat.
“Welcome home master!” Jacce said enthusiastically while appearing in your field of view. He was wearing a stereotypical cooking apron. The ones with “kiss the cook” written on it and heart-shaped pockets on both sides. If you weren’t so irritated by the appellation he just gave you, you would’ve remembered that you didn’t own any aprons like that.
“I already told you to stop calling me that.” You rolled your eyes, “well not in an everyday setting.” 
It had been a week since you accepted to make him your pet, as he liked to call it. You still weren’t used to having someone else living with you, especially someone like him. TYou were aware that this guy did bad things, yet you couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for Jacce. After all, he was really keen on the whole, “I only want to serve you” attitude. Besides, there was no reason to deny that it wasn’t what motivated you to take him in. The noises he made the first time you touched him were all you ever dreamed of in a man. So you definitely weren't regretting your decision.
At least for now.
“Sorry! I won’t do it again m— emm supper is ready!” He left the hall in a hurry, waiting for you to follow him. It did smell rather nice, and you were not against having something warm to eat. Jacce’s cooking was one thing you got around pretty quickly since the start of his stay. Gone are the days of eating ramens because you were too tired or busy to make anything complex. You entered the kitchen to see a mouth watering meal on the table. Next to it was Jacce standing proudly, his hands behind his back.
“Are you happy?” he asked with the sole purpose of receiving your praise. 
You ignore if it’s because you found his mannerism cute or you were influenced by the fact that he called himself “puppy” on multiple occasions, but you walked closer to him and stroked his hair as a sign of appreciation. 
“Yes! You did an amazing job.” 
To your surprise Jacce made a loud moan from your touch, his mouth slightly open and his tongue now sticking out. You completely froze in response, and it felt like your brain did too. When he realized that you had stopped petting him, his mouth closed quickly and his face turned bright red, this time in embarrassment. 
For a moment, an awkward silence had fallen between the two of you. 
“Did you just…” You couldn’t finish your sentence, that Jacce was already babbling what seemed like an apology. He backed away as well, letting your hand drop. He seemed so scared that you would change your mind and kick him out now. You could see imaginary dog ears falling to the side of his head as he looked at you with teary eyes.
He really is like a puppy. 
“Jacce it’s fine! I was just… taken by surprise!” You tried to reassure him, “you have to admit that your reaction wasn’t very typical.” You waved your hands in the air to somewhat back up your point. He seemed a little bit reassured, but still had doubts. 
“You don’t… think I’m weird now do you?” Jacce whispered while playing with his hands anxiously. 
If anything makes you weird it’s definitely not this, was your instant thought, but you obviously didn’t share that with him. You did love the way he responded to such an innocent touch. It made your stomach feel funny.
“No, I don’t think you’re weird.” You took a step forward, “now what about we sit down to eat this delicious meal you made and… maybe I will reward you for it after.” You spoke that last part close to his left ear, a grin spreading on your lips. 
To claim that this man sat down at the speed of light would be an understatement. You didn’t even have time to compliment his cuisine that he had choked down half of his plate. After five minutes, only because you asked him to slow down, he had finished eating and was on his way to do the dishes. You, on the other hand, were enjoying every piece of the meal. The temptation to lick it clean was almost unbearable. It was a pleasant surprise when you discovered that he was this skilled the first time he cooked for you. It's a bit mean to admit it, but based on his personality and appearance, you assumed he was the type of guy to only eat microwaved food. In a way you weren’t really in a position to judge knowing your own habits.
Maybe it explains why he worked at that coffee shop. You continued to theorize to yourself how this raccoon man could put this much effort into cooking. But while lost in thoughts, you didn’t notice the figure currently kneeling down at your feet. 
“Are you finished yet? I… I want my reward.” Jacce whined, while looking up at you and hesitantly clang to your leg. He was moving his thigh together while letting out small moans, certainly trying to get some friction out of it. So you decided to tease him a little. 
“I am, but my plate needs to be washed first.” You declare while avoiding his gaze. You could hear him whimper as a result, yet he quickly got up and bolted off to take care of it. 
By the time he came back the lavender apron had been thrown to the ground, giving you a complete view of his depraved state. The outline of his erection was clearly visible and a wet spot stained the front of his jeans. For how long was he leaking pre-cum for it to be this bad?! Or did he already finish with just the petting from earlier?
Jacce didn’t kneel back down, however his hunched posture still gave him a vulnerable look. As you got up, you swore you saw his bulge twitch despite the layers of clothing. You grab one of his hands and lead him to the bedroom. His head was hanging low while he followed you, almost timidly, which was a huge contrast from his previous perverted and shameless behaviours. Once you arrived, you sat on the bed and took a good look at him. Jacce was wearing his forest green turtleneck, as he often did at the coffee shop. Suddenly, it reminded you of something and this idea filled you with delight.
“Tell me puppy, have you been wearing your collar under your turtleneck?” You asked with an innocent voice. He shivered at the question, his cock leaking a little bit. He really hoped this was going into the direction he had fantasized about for months. 
“Yes… I have been wearing it all day, I… I just wanted to show that I’m yours” He pulled his turtleneck down, putting  his red collar on display.  
“Do you have a leash to go with it?” 
When Jacce had arrived at your place, he’d only brought a few bags with him. You didn’t go through all of them, but you were convinced there was one in there. You were right to think so, since he seemed to perk up even more at your question. You didn’t even have to ask him to go get it, since he walked directly to a big backpack, as if the man knew perfectly in which one it was. Jacce ended up pulling out a medium size leash and clipped it to the D-ring of his collar. 
“I’m ready… Can I choose my reward ?”
“Of course, we will do what makes you the most happy.”
“Then I… I want to show how much of a devoted doggy I am for you.” 
You instantly knew what he meant by that. It was only a matter of time since his evident inclination for petplay surfaced, and you were surprised he didn't really make any attempt before this moment. Jacce slowly unzipped his jeans, giving you glances in case you stopped him, but you let him fully uncover his lower half. Finally free from his boxers, Jacce's swollen cock throbbed in the air and dripped precum onto the hardwood floor. You held in a laugh seeing it swing as he got closer to you.
“You need to take your pants off too.” He whined, losing his patience and only wanting to relieve himself from this semi torture. You decided not to tease him further, undressing automatically. You were convinced that if you had taken your time, he would have started crying… which you wouldn’t really mind when you thought about it. 
At last, Jacce could see for himself how turned on you were. He was drooling at the sight.
“Y-You look so good.” He lowered himself to admire it up close, the head of his cock almost touching your leg. You took the chance to grab the leash, making Jacce moan and hump your tight. You pull yourself away, but as you were still holding on, he stumbled onto the bed. The second he noticed you positioning yourself on all four onto the bed, raising your ass in front of him, he immediately stopped whining from the lack of stimulation. 
“Oh thank you, thank you, thank you! I-I promises to make you feel so good.”
Jacce positioned himself behind you, his hands trembling on your back in anticipation. Jacce bit down his lip, ecstatic that he could pleasure you like you deserved. He slid one finger inside of you, making sure you were prepared for him. The last thing he desired was to hurt you in the process. Then he steadily moved his finger in and out, hadding a second, then a third soon after .
When he felt it was stretched enough around his finger he asked. “Please can I fuck you now? Pleaseeee master?” 
You didn’t correct him for calling you that honorific this time. You had to admit that it was kinda cute, just not in front of other people or in your day-to-day life. Your friends or family didn’t need to know about the dirty things going on between you and Jacce. 
“Yes puppy, you can.” You swayed your butt in an inviting way as you felt the tip of his cock brush against you. 
Your breath hitch has the head got shoved in your entrance, however a muffled whimper coming from Jacce overshadowed it. You expected him to thrust deeper, yet he wasn’t moving an inch anymore. You turned your head back a little and tugged at the leash to get an explanation out of him. 
“You feel s–so warm around my mmhg… I need to take my time or I’ll–I’ll…” Jacce swallowed hard and massaged your hips gently has a form of apology. You wanted to move onto him so badly, to hear all the pretty sounds he’d make, but you restrained yourself. This was his reward after all, you needed to let him have a bit of fun. 
He inhaled shakily before sinking his shaft deeper. It took a moment before he was completely buried inside of you. Your warmth was, in one word, overwhelming. He took off his sweater turtleneck, tossing it aside, wanting to feel the cold air on his skin to compensate for the burning feeling spreading across his chest. You gawked at the sight of one of his pierced nipples. You never thought he could manage to look hotter and mentally noted that one day you needed to fuck him stupid while tugging at it. 
After five slow trust, Jacce started to increase his speed and soon enough he was pounding into you desperately. The room was only filled with the sounds of flesh hitting flesh and the depraved moans that Jacce was letting out next to your ears. Despite the fast movements, he was keeping you in place with his arms wrapped around your waist. He was maybe the one on top, but all the pathetic whines he made every time his dick slid back inside you and the collar around his neck, showed who was really in charge. 
He wasn’t the only one that was having a pleasurable experience, because despite Jacce having an average size length, you could really feel his thickness stretching your inner walls. Not to mention that his cock kept pulsating against it, hitting all the right spots. So you couldn’t help but let out a plenty of moans and praise for him as a result.
“You're doing it so well, such a good boy for me.” You turned your head to kiss him, which he happily obliged. He had been drooling so much that his lips were already wet when clashing against yours. Jacce kept making depraved noises while kissing in the most sloppy way possible.
You pulled back to get some air, leaving a chance for the mess of man to speak. 
“A-aahh… Puppy is g-good for you, only you.” He breathed out from the intense make out.
You pulled on his leash, causing him to let out a moan and lay even more on top of you. At this rate, he was grinding against your ass like a pathetic animal more than anything, his balls slapping against it rhythmically. Jacce only wished to stay deep inside of you as much as possible. You just felt so good around him, it would be a crime to pull out. 
“Can puppy Mngh-ph suck your neck? Please, p-please, please!”
It seemed like each word that came out of his mouth required a huge amount of effort and the same could have been said to you. You tried saying yes, but only a vague humming came out. Jacce took the occasion to murmur how grateful he was, before sucking and lapping at the nape of your neck. Suddenly, you gasped as you felt one of his hands sliding in your inner thigh to touch your sensitive parts. 
“Ahh Puppy loves hearing… h-how good he is for you.” He huffed while satisfying the heat between your legs. 
This was the last straw for your arms, your face hitting the mattress with a small thump. Your hands now resting on both sides of your head, one still strongly pulling the leash. Your mind slowly went into a haze as you let your mouth open and drool leak profusely onto the sheets. You didn’t even have enough energy to try and keep yourself still, instead letting your body move on it's own has the man bucked his hips into you. It was your turn to let out depraved noises, melting Jacce’s heart with adoration. 
“Nnnf p-please, let me hear y-you Aaah… more.” He panted, resting his chin on your shoulder. His right hand was still stimulating your intimate parts, pulling additional sounds from you. He could feel your walls tightening around his shaft, indicating you were getting close. 
“Please cum around puppy’s d-dumb dick, Nnngf… won’t finish… until you do.” He took a moment before adding, “that's the… only thing I w-want.”
You tightly shutted your eyes before letting out multiple moans while your insides grope around him one last time. His hand on your sex did not show any sign of stopping its administration, putting your brain on overdrive. Jacce mouvements became messy as well. It was impossible for him to hold his climax after feeling you release like that. 
“C-Can I cum inside master? Please Aaah–”
A wave of pleasure prevented him from finishing his pleas. You didn’t know if it was because of the thrill of the moment or because he had manage to fuck you silly, but you eagerly agreed. The second you nodded it's like you had activated something in him, because he cried out a pure sound of ecstasy, loads of cum shooting out of his cock. He trusted his hips a few times before gradually stopping. Jacce couldn’t talk anymore and was only panting hard behind you. Both of his hands went back on your stomach, one rubbing it in a soothing manner. His softened shaft pulled out on its own, leaving your gaping hole to drip out his cum. As you dropped the leash, Jacce rolled off of you and onto his side, bringing you with him. You were completely drained out of all energy, so you didn’t stop him. In this current position, his legs were wrapped around yours, trapping you. Even with the aftermath effects of the orgasm clouding both of your minds, you could nonetheless sense his gaze fixated on the back of your skull. Maybe he was waiting in case you complained about how he was holding you. But with no sign of disagreement his breath came back to a normal rhythm and the pressure of his eyes on you diminished, but not by much.
After regaining a bit of force, you turned and nudged him onto his back so you could rest your head on his chest. Which made Jacce’s cheek heats up and a small shudder traveled his body. We just had sex and he is still flustered by an action like this? You could hear his heartbeat grow faster under your ear, confirming your suspicions. You didn’t make a comment about it though. It would have only embarrassed him further and you were too tired for that. Also being intimate with him in such a way was definitely different. Not that it was a bad thing, on the contrary you really appreciated it. 
Then, you felt him gently trapping you between his arms and chest, nuzzling his cheek against your hair. No words were shared. Only enjoying each other's warm bodies and the tranquility of the night was enough. After a long time of cuddling, you finally tried to sit up by squirming out of his grasp, succeeding but only for Jacce to grab you by the waist. 
“I want to do it.” He mumbled with a sleepy voice, “let me take care of you.”
You chuckled, “I bet you can't even get out of bed.”
Jacce shook his head and tried to sit up like you did, only to rest his head on your shoulder. It took him a huge amount of effort to jump out of bed, still naked nonetheless, except for his collar and leash obviously. As you watched him leave, you layed back down and closed your eyes, relaxing to the distant sound of running water, slowly losing track of time. 
Soon enough you felt a presence looming over you.
“The bath is ready.” He whispered while caressing your arm. 
You rested yourself onto him as you walked out of the room. Since your eyelids were halfway closed, you couldn’t see how giddy Jacce was to do this with you. For him these “after care” moments were the ultimate proof that you really wanted him by your side. Why else would they want to cuddle or clean me? Either way, he knew for a fact that’s what he yearned to do with you.
The sensation of the cold tiles under your feet stimulated your brain enough to wake you up, but Jacce still made sure that you didn’t slip while entering the warm bath. Feeling the hot water wrap around you released all the tensions in your limbs. You let yourself sink to shoulder level, enjoying the sensation it was bringing you. The man waited for you to make some space for his tall figure before getting in as well. It was small for two people, forcing you to sit between his legs, your back resting on his chest. It was the first time you bathed together and he was thanking all the power of the universe that it made you two so close. Jacce started to run water over your body and rubbed his hands full of soap over your skin. He was cautious not to touch you inappropriately, asking you multiple times before cleaning your more private areas. He really was treating your body with utmost respect.  
“Did I do a good job?”
You nod, watching his hands go up and down your arm. 
“Let me do it next.”
After moving out of the tub to sit behind him, you started to do the same to Jacce, but every time you touched his skin small noises could be heard. You stretched your neck in an attempt to see his face. The flushed man noticed and seemed to feel even more guilty.
“I-I hope I’m not making you uncomfortable…” He mumbled, ashamed of being so responsive to you. He even grimaced as he recalled the similar reaction he had a few hours ago. 
“Didn’t I already tell you that it’s ok for you to react this way?” 
“Yay…” He looked down at the soiled water, “but I know that I can be a lot sometimes.” 
“I mean… having unusual reactions doesn't automatically make them bad, you know.” You stopped cleaning his shoulders to run your hands down his back, “it makes you stand out.”
You made sure there wasn’t any soap left on his back, before pressing your lips on it with a chaste kiss. Your actions and words shot directly to his dick. 
“You shouldn’t tease me like that…” He whined, flustered. 
Jacce was right. If you wanted to have a full night of sleep, working both of you up wasn’t the way to go. 
“I’m getting sleepy again.” You yawned, “we should go back to bed.” 
“You… you mean that I can sleep with you tonight!?” 
You hummed a melodic yes. 
Until now Jacce had been sleeping on the sofa since you weren’t ready to have him so close to you while unconscious. The first few nights you even locked the door of your bedroom and placed a lightweight object in front of it. A simple trick that would have indicated if he had picked the lock. Good thing for him that everything seemed in order every time you woke up in the night or in the morning.  
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So that was chapter four and I hope your horny people liked it! Next one will be more story focus and will go further on Jacce yandere side...
Fun fact: This was the first chapter I wrote for this entire story, so there might bee more grammatical errors in it
Like promise, here is the drawing for this chapter!
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ihearthayden · 4 months ago
Text
HOLO-HOOKUP
ANAKIN SKYWALKER
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MDNI SMUT 18+
PAIRING: master!anakin x padawan!reader
WC: 2.9k
SUMMARY: you and anakin are in a secret relationship, since it’s against the jedi code. you couldn’t go on a mission today with your master and his team, because you got the fever. he decides to call you during a break, just for a quick check up—but the conversation will last longer than he expected.
CW: phone/hologram sex, masturbation [ f and m ], improper use of lightsaber/lightsaber play, degradation, dom!anakin, age gap, dirty talk, master kink, semi public, slight edging, name calling/pet names
A/N: hey guys! this is my first post/fic so i’m pretty nervous, but i hope you will like it. [ btw my inspo came from CW S7E2 ] my requests and dms are open so feel free to txt me, i’m in a need of hayden/sw enthusiast moots lol btw english is not my first language, so i’m really sorry if something is grammatically incorrect.
now enjoy the story! <3
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The halls of the Jedi Temple were eerily silent as you rested in your quarters, the faint hum of Coruscant's bustling cityscape a comforting lullaby in the background—although it was muffled by the thick walls. From the bed, you could hear the distant whir of passing speeders, and their voices always made your mind wander into its blurry maze—to craft different imaginary scenarios. They fed your delusions with the false hope: maybe your master had finally arrived home from his mission. You were supposed to station on Anaxes with the rest of the team, but a morning fever confined you here, far from the frontlines, far from him.
The aftereffects of the illness weighed heavily on you, your body was sluggish and weak, yet it was your heart that ached the most. You couldn't stop thinking about Anakin's suffocating absence and how he should have been caressing your overheated frame instead of fighting on a different planet. You fantasized about him wiping away the beading sweat from your shivering, fragile body with his caring, large palms. You sighed, leaning back against the cool pillow. Every fiber of your being yearned to be by his side, battling droids and facing the galaxy's chaos together, but your condition had left you stranded here.
The hum of the holo-communication device broke the silence of your desperation. You froze stiff as a statue—just like the ones surrounding Naboo's lakeside, and your heart leaped into your throat. You rushed to the device, fingers trembling as you activated the connection.
And there he was.
The flickering light revealed his face, your heart ached at the sight of him. His face bore new scrapes and smudges of dirt, his hair tousled from the battlefield, but his eyes—those molten orbs of fire and tenderness—were fixed solely on you. You got goosebumps as a shiver went down your spine, but the medicine had already started to work, so the fever didn't cause it.
"Ani," You whispered—a breathless relief flooding through you at the mere sight of him. You hadn't even realized how badly you needed him until now. 
"Chee-ska anota," he murmured, the Huttese term for "my dear love" falling from his lips like a prayer.
"I didn't expect to hear from you. I thought you'd be too busy saving the galaxy." You teased him softly, but deep down, you were glad you were on his mind as much as he was on yours. He chuckled—the tone low and warm—a balm to your frayed nerves.
"What's the point of saving it if you're not there to see it?"
But before he could continue his sentence, his words faltered for a second as his eyes traced over your face. 
"You look—your face is still red, and your eyes..." He shook his head, his brow furrowing. "Your eyes are shining, but not in the way I want them to. You're still burning up, aren't you? Fuck." You noticed him curling his hands into a fist, his fingers dug into his palms. "I could already barely focus on this duty because of you, but this was the last straw. I'm going home." 
Even though his concerns melted your heart, you didn't want to ruin their mission by making their strongest Jedi vanish or risk the option of the others discovering your little secret relationship.
"Honey, my fever is already gone. I just need to regain some strength." You were hoping this would change his drastic decision, but it only made him raise his voice at you firmly. 
"It was already a huge mistake to leave you alone in such a helpless state. But I promise you, Chee-ska, I won't abandon you again. Ever." Worry pooled in his eyes, a silent storm brewing beneath his lashes.
God, he's always so stubborn.—you thought to yourself.
Your body craved every molecule of him to be close to you—but you knew you had to do something to calm him down and make him stay there with the troops. You brushed your curly locks away from your face and leaned forward on the bed so that your robe opened slightly in the front, revealing the lacy top of your satin nightgown, along with your rosy cleavage. 
His features immediately loosened up, while a small sigh escaped his mouth—since he's aware that you never wear any lingerie under it. 
"Don't try to manipulate me, Snips. I'm still your master, which makes me the one in charge. I make the rules." He tried to appear serious, but he couldn't mask the sound of longing that filled his voice.
You knew that he wouldn't be able to resist you—since he could never hold himself back. When you find a way to flick the switch in him, he sheds his cautious, caring personality and transforms into a predator. When he got aroused, he became a bloodthirsty beast—and you embodied the prey in his eyes. Just like a starving animal, ready to maul and devour any living creature in sight. 
Since your goal was to push him over the edge, you bit the pink flesh of your pouty bottom lip and reached out to his other lightsaber—which was accidentally left lying on the nightstand next to your bed. It was the only thing that resembled his present, and as you slowly ran your fingers over its surface—you quickly figured out your plan. 
"If you are the one making the rules, why don't you make them fun?" These words left your glossy lips as you drove the weapon up to the right corner of your mouth. 
"Stop being a brat and fix your behavior, youngling. I command you as your superior, not your partner."  His tone carried the weight of authority, a warning you might have believed—if not for his eyes, smoldering and unashamed as it lingered on your chest.
You loved to lure out his raw dominance with your attitude so he would use you to fulfill his sickest, secret, intimate desires. His mechanical arm and the force combined allowed him to take advantage of you and have more control over you than anyone else could ever do—and you enjoyed it more than anything.
"Are you sure that is what you want? Because if you change your mind and stay, you could see me doing this." You kneeled and grabbed the saber with both of your hands so that you could lick it all the way from the bottom to the very top of it. You started swirling your tongue around the tip of it and throated every inch of it without any warning. It wasn't a challenge to take it—your esophagus had adjusted from everyday use to Anakin's significantly bigger size—but it still drew a quiet gag out of you. Your teary eyes never left his surprised gaze, which hunger quickly overtook.
You saw him reach out one of his hands towards your hologram—to pretend to grab your hair—and started bobbing it in the same rhythm as you did with your head. You noticed his growing bulge through the thin fabric of his Jedi uniform—and you couldn't help but sit back on your heels and start rocking your hips a little for some stimulation. This lustful view strikes a tingling sensation in your abdomen. Your brain flooded with the picture of his trembling, overstimulated tip as it stained his pants with his sweet, milky, smeared precum—waiting for you to clean it up with your tongue. 
You snapped back to reality, and a streak of saliva remained attached to the object as you released it from the hot cave of your mouth—while trying to catch your breath.
"I wish that it would have been you. Even though it's your lightsaber, unfortunately, it still can't cum down my throat like you." You said with sad puppy-dog ​​eyes while trying to stop panting, but an unexpected statement struck your ear.
"Ride it." 
A naughty grin appeared on your face as you tried to tease your boyfriend for a tiny bit longer.
"I thought you were worried about your sick little girl, but now you want to use her?" You said with a mocking tone, but he immediately growled at you.
"I said ride it." The harsh order made you stare at him momentarily, but he instantly broke the silence.
"Don't play stupid now. Just obey." He aggressively unbuckled his belt with one hand and rolled up his sleeves while he continued his monologue.
"I lied to the team that I came to this empty warehouse to strategize, so be a good slut for me and don't waste our precious time." He gently ran his fingers over the prominent outline of his size, which made his voice tremble with desire. 
"I saw my needy baby grinding while putting on her little show, so don't you dare to deny how fucking wet you are for me." You squeezed your thighs together, and they remained stuck from how sticky he made you. "You knew exactly what you were doing, so now it's your job to finish what you started, sweet little thing."
You realized how Obi-wan or even the enemy could catch him at any millisecond, so you quickly tossed the lightsaber on the bed, placed your hands in front of yourself and positioned your tiny body above it. 
"Yes s-sir!" You stuttered, but before you could start masturbating, you heard him say—
"Stop. Did you just go dumb on me already? You forgot something. Words, sweetheart, words. What do good girls say?" His serious side always made your core drool. You remembered the missing essential and said it without hesitation.
"Thank you, master!" His mean face finally released a small smile. 
"Now you can continue."
You shifted until your painfully throbbing slit hovered directly over the part that was covered in ridges. As you slowly sank into it, the cold touch of the remaining saliva sent a jolt through your body. You started humping on your little "toy" back and forth, dragging your clit across the whole length of it. The friction made your breath come up in ragged gasps. You tried to glare into his lustful iris but couldn't make contact with his gaze—Anakin had already rolled his eyes back. A heavy moan escaped from your plump lips as he revealed his fully erect member, slamming it against his muscular abs. A puddle of precum pooled around the base of his dick, and some of it already ran down to his thighs. The liquid glistened as the light reflected off it, but he spat in his palm to lubricate it even more. He started gliding his hand on his most sensitive area while watching you chase your high. The holopad was set up to make it look like he was towering over you, ready to finish on your face.
"You are the filthiest whore in the whole galaxy. I mean, look at you, tiny Padawan of mine…skipping your stationing duties to pleasure yourself at home." He kisses his teeth, making a quiet 'tsk' sound." You're fucking pathetic." He threw his head back as he degraded you. You tried to fasten your pace, but your legs started to shake unintentionally to let you know you wouldn't last long. A knot began to form in your stomach, but Anakin shouted at you.
"Oh no, don't even think about it. Don't you dare to cum yet. I didn't give you permission. Don't be greedy."
You whined, your fingers curling desperately into the sheets, the fabric twisting between your trembling hands as you fought against the inevitable. Every muscle in your body was drawn tight, quivering under the weight of restraint, but it was futile—you were at your master's mercy. The heat between your legs was unbearable, pulsing, demanding release, but you knew better than to give in without his approval. Your breath hitched, a pathetic whimper slipping past your lips. You felt helpless, wholly unraveled under his control, but deep down, you knew his cruelty had a purpose. He wasn't denying you out of malice—he was building you up, drawing out your pleasure until it consumed you, until you shattered so thoroughly you wouldn't recover for days. The way he edged you was deliberate, precise, and designed to wreck you in the best way possible. Every second he made you wait, every teasing word, every denied climax—it all led to something greater. He wanted you mindless by the time he allowed you to break. He wanted to pull every last drop of prurience from you until you were gasping his name like a prayer. And when that moment finally came, when he finally let you fall, it wouldn't just be pleasure—it would be devastation.
"See? That wasn’t so hard, was it? At least not for such a good girl. Now, my princess gets rewarded for finally being obedient." He looked up at your face, then down to his old weapon in your hands, and his lips curved into a smirk.
"Slide it in your pretty pussy. Ride my lightsaber as if it was my cock." Anakin's penis was aching, his whole body was shaking while he jerked off. 
"Spread your legs wider, angel, will you? I want to see what's mine. Your warm cunt belongs to me." After his request, your hole pulsed as if it had its own heartbeat. You aligned the "dildo" to your entrance, and with one sharp movement, you rammed it into your opening. You reached up to your chest to cup both of your breasts in your hands and gave them a rough squeeze before you pinched your nipples as Anakin's replacement kissed your cervix. You saw that he trusted into his palm faster than before and became much more vocal.
"Yeah, that's it, that's my girl. You are taking it so good for me." His praises helped your orgasm to build up even more. 
"A-ani, mhh, I'm close; I can't take it anymore! " He heard your shutter, which made him look up from under his eyebrows. You could see that pearly sweat streaks started to run down from his forehead, and their route followed the scar mark on his eye.
"Do you think you deserve it? Beg for it. Can you do that, little one?" He questioned. "How much do you want it, hm? Show me. Make me proud."
His hips hadn't stopped since the call started; he fucked his palm restlessly, so you knew that you had to trigger his weakest spot to get the job done.  
"I promise that I'll be your slave, your fucktoy when you come home, okay? I'll let you use me as a cumdumpster anytime, just please let me finish already.  Anakin, it hurts! " You whimpered while tears ran down from your cheeks to your chin. You started rapidly circling on your swollen clit and pumping into your soaked folds, sliding in and out his "stunt double" that rubbed against your G-spot repeatedly. This was all he needed to hear and see.
"K-kay, let it happen baby, cum for me. Cmon, give it to me. Give me what's mine." He commanded, his words are law.
Your back arched with grace as you went crashing over the edge. You collapsed on your bed into a puddle that your squirt made, mind blank as waves of pleasure rolled through you. The world around you blurred into nothingness, consciousness suspended in the aftershocks of ecstasy. This meant the main attraction to Anakin, the sight of you undone, the way your body trembled and spasmed. His breath hitched, muscles tensing as climax washed over him. His cock throbbed violently in his grasp, spilling thick ribbons of his release over his fingers as he choked out your name. Ropes of his load painted his v-line, dripping down toned his stomach and pooling in his lap.
"Fuck, you are something else. Good job, kid." He panted as he dragged his pants back on. 
"See, I told you that you don't need to leave work for me." You stuck out your tongue while giggling and kicking your feet. 
"You are not sick anymore, that's for sure. The only sick thing is what you promised me in return for your orgasm." He winked at you with his ocean-blue eyes. "Good thing that Rex's helmet recorded everything, so I will have proof." 
Your eyes widened, and you couldn't believe what you heard.
"OH MY GOD—ANAKIN SKYWALKER, YOU FUCKING FREAK! Why didn't you tell me you made the call from his helmet?" You screamed in anger, but your boyfriend just laughed in your face. 
"More risk, more fun, doll." 
Before you could respond to his answer, a sharp knock echoed from his end of the connection. You could see the sudden shift in his expression, the way his shoulders stiffened. From offscreen, you heard Rex's voice, low but clear—
"General Skywalker, you've got company." 
Anakin cursed softly, his free hand running through his already messy hair. He turned back to the holo-projector, his face conflicted. 
"The team found me, I have to go. I'll be home soon, so don't forget our deal. Ni chuba du," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, the words in Huttese heavy with meaning. "I love you." 
Before you could respond, the connection flickered out, the blue light vanishing, and you were left staring at the empty space where he had been.
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short-yandere-stories · 1 year ago
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I couldn't resist the brainworms that came from the small moment we got seeing Nakime and Muzan in the latest episode so have a short brainrot. Him sitting there on the chair,,,
:✧:・゚:・゚✧:・゚:・゚✧ ・゚:・゚✧:・゚:・゚✧:・゚:・゚✧:・゚:・゚✧:・゚:・゚✧:・゚:・゚✧:・゚:・゚✧:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
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:✧:・゚:・゚✧:・゚:・゚✧ ・゚:・゚✧:・゚:・゚✧:・゚:・゚✧:・゚:・゚✧:・゚:・゚✧:・゚:・゚✧:・゚:・゚✧:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
CW: yandere themes, infantilizing behavior, NSFW, Non-con, oral sex, cockwarming, slight vouyerism
This is a yandere work. Proceed with caution and please be mindful of your triggers.
:✧:・゚:・゚✧:・゚:・゚✧ ・゚:・゚✧:・゚:・゚✧:・゚:・゚✧:・゚:・゚✧:・゚:・゚✧:・゚:・゚✧:・゚:・゚✧:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
"Nakime, have a look over there," Muzan ordered, pointing at another area of the map he held in front of his lap. The demon who had just been raised to the rank of fourth among the Kizuki nodded, striking a note on her biwa.
Progress was being made on locating the rest of the Demon Slayer Corps. Nakime's enhanced abilities were exceptional when it came to searching and surveying vast areas in a short amount of time. If Muzan had fed her more blood to enhance her abilities sooner, maybe they would have found the Blue Spider Lily by now. Though, now that Nezuko had braved the sun, there was no need for the Spider Lily anymore. It was easier to search for one demon among the Demon Slayer Corps than a rare flower, and at this rate it was only a matter of time until they'd locate Ubuyashiki's manor as well.
Muzan was pleased with his current circumstance.
Especially so since his thick cock was resting deep inside your mouth.
You'd been sitting on your knees for the better part of an hour now, tears brimming in the corners of your eyes and jaw aching from the strain. It was embarrassing you to no end either, being used like this in front of someone else, even though Nakime's eyes were mostly elsewhere.
Muzan didn't care much for your feelings or embarrassment. If he wanted you to cockwarm him with your mouth, that is what you would do, no matter if it was in his private chambers, at his desk, or here, in front of Nakime.
You knew better than to defy him, even when he was in a good mood, so you remained on your knees, cheeks flushed in shame. At least it was only one of the Kizuki, one who was using her Demon Art to search areas far away. Yet you swore you could feel her eye staring at the back of your skull.
"There was no one there of interest, Lord Muzan," Nakime said, looking up at her master. He merely hummed, moving one slender finger to point at another area of the map.
"Search here."
"Yes, Lord Muzan."
With that, Nakime struck another note on her biwa. It always felt a little better the moments immediately after she played a chord, knowing that she definitely wasn't seeing you at that moment. Otherwise, you never knew when she was back before she spoke, and it was always a relief no matter how brief to not have her see you in this state.
You doubted she cared much for what she saw, but it didn't lessen the embarrassment you felt. You didn't even notice yourself slowly easing yourself away from Muzan's cock until you felt sharp nails scratching against your scalp, effortlessly sheathing himself fully inside your drooling mouth again.
"We're not done yet, pet," he chided, looking away from the map for a moment to stare down at your red, teary face. It was truly a sight to behold, and it felt impossible for him to get harder, but he did.
A low whine slipped past your lips, muffled by the girthy length inside your mouth, and Muzan chuckled, petting your head condescendingly.
"Seems like I haven't had you take me down your throat enough if an hour is where you reach your limit. We will have to do this more often."
:✧:・゚:・゚✧:・゚:・゚✧ ・゚:・゚✧:・゚:・゚✧:・゚:・゚✧:・゚:・゚✧:・゚:・゚✧:・゚:・゚✧:・゚:・゚✧:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
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bbyleiah · 2 years ago
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daze.
| reader is new in town and goes around with her bestfriend. She meets Onyankopon who is entranced by her at first sight and is set on making her his. |
cw : strangers to lovers. dom! Ony, fem! sub shy awkward reader, reader is black, doggy style, anal play (ony eats her ass), oral sex (f receiving), spit, fluids, dirty talk, teasing, pet names (mamas, princess, lil ‘ma, etc.), praise, biting, pussy slapping, begging, unprotected sex, creampie, cock drunk reader, slight pussy drunk ony, overstimulation, crying, pwp.
word count : hella long bc there’s lots of plot 🥹
sn : wrote this for fun, hopefully y’all will enjoy it 💞
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You had been away for college for a long while but now that you graduated with your masters degree and had a break, you came to visit your best friend. You were hesitant about being in a new environment again but you were excited to see your bestfriend because it had been so long since the two of you spent time together.
The two of you were polar opposites, her being loud and charismatic, feisty and unafraid to show off her rambunctious personality. You on the other hand were shy, mostly quiet and meek, only getting out of your shell when you were comfortable with people. You guys suited each other perfectly though, the true definition of opposites attracting.
You squinted your eyes, your car now in a slow stroll along the street as you searched for your friend’s address. You perked up once you found it, pulling into her driveway and parking. Excitement built up inside you as you hopped out the car and approached her front door. You knocked a little too eagerly but you couldn’t help yourself. Nao was excited as well, rushing to open the door and hug you.
You both squealed as you hugged dramatically and spun a bit. “Bitch I missed your ass so much! Oh my god I have so much tea for you!” Nao exclaimed excitedly. You giggled, “I missed you so much too. You always have something going on. I can’t wait to hear all about it though.” You smiled at her. “ugh, my baby is back with me.” Nao sighed dramatically before she kissed your cheeks. You loved the affection, Nao always giving motherly vibes.
Nao helped you get your bags from your car and she didn’t waste any time to start ranting to you as you two began to unpack your things in her guest room. “—He really tried to play in my face like I’m one of his lil hoes. Can’t stand these niggas out here. He keep tryna blow up my phone but I’m ignoring his ass.” Nao expressed while shaking her head. You just took in the info, laughing a little. “Which one was this? Eren?” You asked, trying to keep up.
“Nah, Eren my baby boy. I’m talking about Connie hoe ass. Connie mad now because him and Eren homeboys. I don’t give a fuck though.” Nao said honestly with a cackle. “Oh my god, that’s so messy. I support though. As you should!” You encouraged with a laugh. “What about you though sis? Any dude try to pull up on you at college?” Nao asked.
“Nope. Well I guess some tried but they were all weirdos, I wasn’t interested. Plus you know I need someone who will take care of me.” You said honestly with a hum. “Girl, you need to put yourself out there more. You’re a bad bitch, I’m sure guys will drool over you. You’re just too picky.” She said while shaking her head in disapproval. “I could put you on.” She suggested as she perked up.
“No, no. I refuse to be put on with one of those guys you hang around. You know that’s not my vibe.” You refused immediately. “Ugh, come on! Just give it a chance!. We could literally pull up at Connie’s crib, everyone be over there.” She persuaded with a pout as she pulled on your arm. “Eh, the guys you hang with wouldn’t even be interested in me.” You sighed.
“You don’t know that!. Just come with me, please? Pretty please? Cherry on top? Love and adore you forever?” She begged as she laid her head on your shoulder. You rolled your eyes, laughing “alright, I’ll come. But! I’m not getting put on with no one.” You clarified. “Yay! So exciting!” She cheered in victory. “Isn’t it gonna be awkward for you to be at Connie’s house though?” You asked once you realized.
“Eh, he don’t mind. He too obsessed with me to leave me alone.” She confidently said with a shrug, you laughed. “Y’all are a mess. That’s exactly why I will not partake in that kind of relationship.” You stated. “You will when you find some good dick.” She blurted causing you to gasp and hit her with a pillow, she burst out laughing at your reaction. It was nice spending time with Nao again, the two of you spent the rest of the night catching up and enjoying each other’s company.
*************************************************
You were dreading this gathering now, you hated meeting people. You had Nao by your side though so you figured it wouldn’t be so bad. Nao looked sexy as fuck, dressed in a red corset top, a black jean skirt, and some ‘university red’ dunks with her crinkle curl black lace front, gold jewelry to compliment the outfit.
You differed in style, dressed in a lacy white tank top with a white cardigan, you wore a pink skirt with white leg warmers and pink converse, your hair was in a half up half down look and you had on hoop earrings with a little charm bracelet. “You look so adorbs!” Nao gushed over you. You blushed, “thanks, you look so good. They’re gonna drool over you forreal.” You complimented with a giggle.
“That’s the goal.” She sassily said as she flipped her hair. The two of you walked up to what was apparently Connie’s house and Nao didn’t even bother to knock, just walking on in like she owned the place. Luckily for you it wasn’t overly crowded, just a couple people hanging around. It appeared this house was a true hang out spot. “Yoo, losers. The baddest bitch has arrived.” Nao greeted theatrically.
Everyone greeted her too, she was clearly comfy with everyone here, you just followed behind her like a clueless puppy only uttering ‘hi’s’ and ‘nice to meet you’s’ whenever Nao introduced you to people. Unbeknownst to you, someone had taken a particular interest in you. “Yo, who’s lil mama?” Ony asked Jean as they stood together sharing a blunt. “Uh don’t know but she came with Nao. They’re homegirls” Jean shrugged.
“Mm.” Ony hummed in response to the information, still observing you with his low slightly red eyes. “What? You tryna hit that?” Jean asked with a laugh. “Nah, just curious.” Ony dismissed. It was rare to see a cute thing like you around so it intrigued Ony, he didn’t typically go for girls like you but he wouldn’t mind taking his chances. You caught his stare when you began to mindlessly look around, it caught you off guard seeing the male staring at you so intensely.
It also confused you a bit, you didn’t understand why he was looking at you. You unconsciously pouted a bit and tilted your head as you tried to think of what the reason could be. Ony felt his heart swoon a little at the adorable sight, you were just too cute. “Lying ass. You definitely wanna tap that.” Jean laughed as he peeped the scene. “Shut your ass up.” Ony snapped.
“Is there something on my face?” You asked Nao. She looked at you confused, “No, why do you think that?” She asked as she thoroughly inspected your face. “Because some guy was staring at me so I wanted to make sure. That would’ve been embarrassing.” You said in slight relief. “Which guy?!” She perked up, eager to find out. You subtly pointed to him, standing against the wall with some other guy.
He was dressed in black cargo pants and a white tee, a black durag on his head with some white forces on his feet. He had little diamond stud earrings in his ears and a silver chain around his neck. He had a tattoo on one of his hands and one on his collarbone. “Oo! That’s Ony! Girl that is crazy! Ony doesn’t get interested in many girls. You should go speak!” Nao excitedly encouraged.
You sheepishly shook your head, “Noo, you know I hate approaching people.” You said as you played with your sweater paws. “I know but you need to put yourself out there!. You want me to call him over?” She offered. Your eyes went wide, frantically shaking your head, not liking that idea at all. Nao sighed, “Well I’m not gonna put you in an uncomfortable position but I really think you should feel him out.” She hummed. You chewed on your lip, debating it as you glanced at him.
He was definitely attractive but he seemed way out of your league. You wouldn’t even know how to handle a guy like him. This time he was the one who caught you staring, blowing smoke from his mouth after taking a hit from a blunt. You immediately looked away, flustered that he caught you looking at him. Ony smirked at your shy reaction, “she’s too damn cute.” He mumbled to himself. “Bro just go over and talk to her at this point instead of drooling, damn.” Jean said, annoyed.
Ony rolled his eyes, elbowing Jean in the side before he actually did take the initiative and walked up to you. You didn’t even notice him approaching, turned towards Nao and focused on what she was currently chatting about. Ony cleared his throat once he stood behind you, instantly gaining your attention as you whipped around to see who it was. “What’s up little ‘ma.” Ony greeted once he had your attention. You stared at up him like a deer in headlights, “Uhm..hi~” you replied shyly.
Nao’s eyes flickered between the two of you knowingly with a mischievous grin on her face. She didn’t waste any time slipping away so that you and ony could talk privately. “You new around here?” Ony asked you, starting small talk as he took a sip from his red solo cup. “Yeah, I just got here the other day” You said as you began to nervously play with your hair, you knew you were probably being awkward but you sucked at conversation. Ony didn’t mind your shy awkward demeanor though, finding it adorable.
“Oh my bad, I’m onyankopon by the way but you can call me ony.” He introduced himself with a smile, allowing you to see the silver grill on the bottom row of his teeth. He was definitely not the type of guy to go for a girl like you. “Nice to meet you~” You said your usual textbook reply, smiling back at him politely. Ony fixated on your pretty smile, your little dimples appearing on your cheeks along with your glossy lips. In that moment he felt like he’d do whatever to keep that smile on your face.
“You close with Nao?” He questioned. You nodded, “Mhm, she’s my bestfriend, we’ve been close for a long time and I love her a lot.” You expressed happily as you grinned. “That’s cute.” Ony smiled, enjoying seeing you happily ramble. Ony’s stare was so intense and intimidating as he ate up every detail of your figure with his eyes, it made your heart pound furiously in your chest. That ba-boom ba-boom ba-boom nonstop in your system.
“My homie Jean convinced me to approach you since I kept staring at you, hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.” Ony chuckled as he rubbed at his chin. “Oh!, I wasn’t uncomfortable, just mostly confused..I didn’t understand why you were staring at me.” You admitted honestly with a soft laugh as you shyly fiddled with your charm bracelet.
Ony’s eyes tracked the movement, fully attentive to your every action. “Because you’re beautiful. Cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Can’t keep my eyes off you mama.” Ony’s low sultry voice spoke honestly as he stared into your now wide eyes. “I-I uhm..” You stuttered out, speechless and beyond flustered now. You even let out a faint whine in embarrassment as you shifted from foot to foot.
You weren’t used to such shameless and honest flattery so you didn’t know how to process it and respond. Ony was torn because a part of him loved watching you squirm and crumble because of his words, and the other part of him wanted to ease your turmoil and comfort you. “You can relax mama, it’s alright. I just wanted to clear up your confusion.” His comforting side won, his voice soft and soothing.
“Sorry, I’m not used to accepting compliments, especially from a guy like you..thank you though.” You managed out after awhile, breathing out to calm yourself. “A guy like me? What’s that mean mama?” Ony prodded with a teasing grin. You swore you’d fold and burst at the seams if he called you ‘mama’ one more time. The way it rolled off his tongue just sounded so nice.
“I-I mean..uh..” You stammered out as you smiled shyly. “You know, you’re attractive and intimidating..and you go for girls like Nao” You explained, completely embarrassed. Ony was highly amused as he listened to you try to elaborate, a grin on his face. “Cute. You think I’m attractive sweet girl?” Ony asked, continuing to tease. “Also I don’t go for girls like Nao. I want you.” Ony said honestly.
You felt your heart skip a beat hearing that, getting a little giddy as you bit down on your bottom lip to hold back your huge smile. Ony eyed the action of you biting your lip, his mind drifting to a not so innocent place. “Let me take you out on a date.” He suddenly said. You looked at him in slight shock, his straightforwardness catching you off guard.
You contemplated your answer because you were unsure. You did think Ony was very attractive and you liked talking to him but you were afraid of this not going well. You decided to take Nao’s advice though and take your chances. “okay, I’d love to~” You smiled. Ony felt like he won the lottery. The two of you then exchanged numbers before Ony got pulled away by his friends.
“I’ll text you later mamas.” Ony told you before y’all parted ways. You were giddy to tell Nao all the details about your interaction with Ony. He stayed true to his word too, texting you sooner than you expected. You texted him on your way back home with Nao. “This is soo exciting! Do you know where he’s taking you yet?” Nao questioned excitedly as she drove.
“A restaurant, I think it’s fancy.” You informed her. “Oo can I dress you up? Pretty please, I wanna make you all sexy. Make him lose his shit.” Nao laughed. “Of course that’s what you wanna do.” You laughed too while shaking your head. “You can dress me up though, I want the sexy bad bitch vibes.” You agreed, thinking it’d be nice to switch it up for this occasion.
“Yessuh!, You’re gonna get dicked down real good.” Nao cackled evilly. You gasped, “You’re nasty! Horny ass.” You laughed in disbelief. “Girl you know damn well you’re not miss innocent, with your kinky ass.” Nao called you out as the two of you laughed together. “Hush, I still have class~” You huffed with a grin.
Throughout the night you and Ony texted nonstop, him constantly flattering you and giving you butterflies with his sweet words. Despite you being really shy in person you were more bold through text, saying things you’d never say directly to his face but it was fun to play around. Little did you know though, Ony was gonna make you stand on your words.
onyanbear 😫🧸: why you keep playing with me ma? you think I won’t put you in your place?
you : bc it’s funnn, you’re not gonna do anything. You’re scaryyy, all talk, no action
onyanbear 😫🧸 : ight, keep talking that big girl shit. We’ll see.
You were giggling and kicking your feet reading his responses, you knew you were probably digging yourself a hole but it was too fun to tease and provoke him. You honestly didn’t think he’d actually act on his words. You’d learn soon enough though that he was not playing.
*************************************************
You were honestly a nervous wreck as you prepared for your date with Ony. You hadn’t been on a date in awhile and you’d say you had a crush on Ony at this point so it was exciting and nerve-racking all at the same time. Nao provided you with a little silk black dress that shaped your curves in all the right ways and showed off your figure. You paired the dress with black heels that wrapped up your ankles.
You curled your hair, doing a natural makeup beat and putting on red lipstick. This was definitely different from your usual cutesy style but you looked good. You put on jewelry, just some stud earrings and a bracelet, along with an anklet. “You look good as fuck! I’m so proud.” Nao exclaimed before she began taking pictures of you like a proud mom.
“Thank you” You laughed and posed for some of the pictures. “When’s he pulling up?” Nao asked. “Uhm in about 10 minutes or so I think.” You hummed as you checked your phone, seeing his text saying that he was on his way. “You excited? You like him so far?” Nao prodded teasingly and eagerly. You giggled, “I am excited but I also feel like throwing up from nerves. I do like him so far..he’s nice.” You admitted with a shy smitten grin.
“Oo, this is so adorable. I’m happy you’re giving him a chance.” Nao smiled. Soon Ony pulled up, calling you to let you know he was outside. “Okay I’ll be out soon!~” You told him. You quickly got up, spraying on your favorite perfume and grabbing your purse before you walked out to see Ony standing outside his car waiting for you. His attention was on you the second you stepped out, eyes eating up your figure.
“You look so sexy ‘ma. breathtaking.” Ony hummed, not being able to take his eyes off you as his hands found their way to your waist. Your face flushed, growing shy as your stomach swarmed with flutters at his words and the feel of his hands on your body. “Thank you” You said with a smile. “You look good too, really good.” You returned the flattery as you eyed him as well.
He was dressed in a black and grey hockey jersey and some black jeans, ‘panda’ dunks on his feet. He had on the same chain and he had rings adorning his fingers this time. He smelled so good too, his intoxicating scent so yummy in your nostrils. “thanks mama.” Ony grinned before he pecked your cheek. He was being extra touchy this time around but you didn’t mind it at all, you were soaking it up actually.
“Let’s go.” Ony said as he opened the car door for you, allowing you to slide into the passenger seat. He closed the door after you and then rounded around the car and sat in the driver’s seat. He adjusted the air and the radio before he began to drive. You just watched him the whole time, completely infatuated with him and his whole aura. Your inner thoughts screaming about how he was ‘fine as fuck’. You wouldn’t say it out loud though, too shy to do so.
“You staring real hard lil mama, see something you want?” Ony asked in that smooth low voice of his that made you melt, his eyes still focused on the road but his attention completely on you. ‘slow down’ by bobby valentino played lowly on the radio, creating a mood in the car and further adding to the building tension. You didn’t know how to respond, mouth parting but no words coming out, flustered by his question.
You did see something you wanted, you wanted him, really badly too. You weren’t gonna admit that though. “N-No..just like staring at you..” You partially confessed sheepishly as you played with the hem of your dress. Ony chuckled, the sound filling your ears and consuming you, so pleasing to your senses. “That’s cute baby. You’re so shy now, what happened to big girl in my messages? Talking all big about how I can’t handle you, you gon’ make me nut in my pants, how I ain’t gon’ do shit, I’m not daddy material, Hm? Where’s that energy at ‘ma?” Ony called you out, making your eyes blow wide.
You didn’t think he’d make you eat your words, it was embarrassing hearing your own words repeated back to you. “I-I..I was playing!” You defended, not wanting to bury yourself further. “Ah, so you’re the one that’s scary then? All talk, no action? Ain’t that what you said?. After you said I wouldn’t bend you over my lap and spank your little ass.” Ony continued, loving seeing you fall apart from being called out.
You were pouting now, “I’m not scary, I did say that and I was right. You still ain’t do shit.” You huffed, now standing on your words because you weren’t gonna let him doubt you and call you ‘scary’. “Mm.” was all Ony said in response as he grinned, he was glad you were still being a brat, just so he could turn you right back out. The two of you arrived at the restaurant and once Ony parked he was quick to snatch you up by your neck.
You let out a choked gasp, staring at him wide eyed as he pulled your face towards his, his large hard squeezing around your throat making you whine. “I love that attitude shit ‘ma. It makes my day. You keep fucking with me because you want me to fuck that attitude out of you, don’t you?” Ony uttered against your lips, your breaths mingling together, the proximity and his words putting you in a daze.
“You want daddy to fuck you stupid? Turn you into my good girl?” Ony hummed, you let out another whine. You wanted to kiss him so bad, your lips parted, tongue practically about to fall out from how desperately you wanted it. Right when you tried to lean in, Ony pulled away and let you go. “Come on, we’re gonna be late for our reservation.” He said as he got out of the car.
You were bewildered, stuck processing what just happened as Ony opened the passenger side door for you. Ony was completely amused at the lost look on your face, it was priceless. He contained his nonchalant appearance though. “Come back to me mama, let’s go.” Ony hummed, trying to snap you out of your trance.
It worked, you immediately got out of the car and began to follow him into the restaurant, a slight embarrassed flush on your face as you realized how desperate you must’ve looked moments ago. Ony led the two of you to your table once you entered the restaurant. Being the gentleman he was he pulled your seat out for you, “thank you” you said softly with a smile as you sat down.
He hummed in response and pushed your seat in. The two of you got settled and ordered. “You gonna act like a good girl now?” Ony asked you after the waiter left, slightly joking as he looked at you. You pouted, “No” you huffed softly. You were gonna stand your ground, plus you were still disappointed that he didn’t actually kiss you. Ony chuckled at your response.
“You’re lucky you’re cute as fuck.” He expressed with a grin. You were flattered, folding again at his sweet words as you smiled and grew shy again. “I tried to look sexy today though” You muttered as you adjusted your dress a bit. “You do look sexy, very sexy. You also look cute though, cutest thing ever. You have a nice mix of both.” He told you honestly, only flattering you more as you grinned giddily.
“Not cute enough for you to kiss me though..” you mumbled, you intended to say that in your head and not out loud but it slipped. Ony couldn’t help but to laugh, he was satisfied with getting you all sulky. “don’t laugh~ it’s embarrassing.” You whined as you covered your face with your hands. “My bad baby, you don’t have to be embarrassed, it’s adorable you want me to kiss you so bad.” He comforted with a soft laugh as he pulled your hands away from your face, kissing your hands as he did.
You felt those now familiar butterflies swarm in your system at his soft plump lips against your hands. You could only imagine feeling his lips elsewhere..the thought giving you shivers. “You happy now?” He asked as he now held your hand, interlocking your fingers with his. You loved it so much, his hand in yours, it was so comforting and intimate. You wished he’d kiss your lips but you were happy with what was given to you. “I am, very happy” You giggled.
“that’s good mamas.” He smiled before he kissed your hand again, kissing down to your wrist. “You smell good as fuck..got me wanting to eat you ‘ma..” he sighed as he looked into your eyes. You stared back, silent now but your heart pounding loudly in your ears. That ravenous look in his eyes had you stuck, your breathing slowing as anticipation began to build inside you.
Ony constantly kept you on edge but you loved it, and sometimes you felt the urge to go over that edge. “Why don’t you then?” You uttered out, not backing down from his stare. Ony smiled at your words, “You’d like that wouldn’t you mamas? My head between your legs? That sweet pussy suffocating me?” He teased. If you weren’t wet already, you definitely were now. His words effecting you and making your pussy ache to be touched.
“I would like that, soo much, please” You hadn’t intended to beg but it seemed Ony made you desperate with ease. He chuckled, “We’re gonna eat first babe and have our date, you can be a good girl and wait.” He stated before he kissed your cheek. You pouted but agreed, wanting to be good and also wanting to finish your date since you’d been excited for this date.
Soon the food arrived and the two of you began to eat, the food was heavenly. You two talked and got to know each other even more. “—So you’re beautiful and smart as hell, I hit the jackpot.” Ony grinned. You had just finished telling him about your college accomplishments, “oh hush, you probably have had plenty of smart beautiful women.” You giggled.
“Nah, none like you at least. You’re a gem mamas.” He said genuinely. His sweet words always made you swoon, falling for him more and more by the second. “You’re so sweet to me.” You said softly as you smiled. “You deserve it and I’m tryna make you mine so I have to be sweet to you.” He smiled as he finished off the dessert you ordered. You gasped, “You ate the last bite!” You whined in disappointment stomping your feet in your heels.
Ony couldn’t help but to laugh, cackling as you pouted and sulked like a baby. “You’re not sweet anymore.” You huffed as you crossed your arms. “God, you’re so cute it makes me sick.” He said with a grin while shaking his head as his laughter died down. “Here ‘ma, you can taste the last bite too.” He said before he grabbed you by your jaw and kissed you deeply.
It caught you off guard, you took a minute to process what was happening before you began to kiss him back. Your eyes fluttered closed as you melted into the feeling of his lips against yours, his tongue pushing through the seam of your lips to fill your mouth, allowing you to taste the residual of the dessert. He dominated the kiss easily, his tongue tangling messily with yours and pushing against the insides of your cheeks. He began to suck on your tongue, making you moan into the kiss.
“shit..” he groaned lowly as he broke the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips still. Your head was fuzzy from the kiss, your breathing heavier as your now low lust filled eyes stared into Ony’s pretty brown eyes. He licked his lips, breaking the saliva string between your lips. Your eyes fixated on the movement, completely entranced by the man.
Ony was just as enamored by you, your red lipstick now slightly smudged on your plush lips. That needy look in your eyes that seemed eager to be satiated. You were just so beautiful and he couldn’t get enough of it. “Mm, you taste better than the dessert mama” he said, it was kinda a cheesy line but he meant it. “Should’ve kiss you sooner..” he mumbled before he pecked your lips again repeatedly.
You loved every second of it, kissing him back as much as you could, smiling into the kisses. You felt completely head over heels at this point. “Let’s head out mama” he hummed as he pulled away. He paid for the meal and held your hand as you two exited the restaurant, getting back into his car. You were in a relaxed state on the night drive, ony’s hand resting on your thigh and your head leaned against the window, shamelessly watching him as he drove.
“You wanna go back to my place baby?” Ony asked as he gave your thigh a small squeeze. “Yes please” you said, a little too eagerly causing ony to chuckle. You couldn’t help it though, you wanted to spend as much time with him as possible, be completely consumed by him. It wasn’t long before you guys arrived at his house.
You observed the place with curiosity, “You live alone?” You questioned as the two of you got out of the car. “Mhm, roommates aren’t my style. Too much of a hassle. I like having my own shit.” He said as he unlocked his front door. You nodded in understanding, “Makes sense.” You hummed before letting out a squeak in surprise when Ony suddenly picked you up.
You didn’t get a chance to get a word out before Ony started eating your face, kissing you with desperation as he gripped your ass. Truth be told Ony couldn’t wait to get his hands on you, being tempted the whole time as you provoked him and he snapped after he kissed you, wanting to devour you whole after that. You moaned into the kiss, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck as you pulled him closer.
Ony began to carry you upstairs to his bedroom as the two of you continued kissing. He sucked on your bottom lip, tugging it between his teeth and making you whine out. He loved all the cute noises you made, wanting to pull more of them out of you. He left opened mouthed kisses down your neck prior to running his tongue up your neck all the way to your ear, pulling your earlobe into his mouth. He wanted to taste every inch of you.
You shivered at the feeling of his mouth on your sensitive ear, your nails beginning to dig into his neck as you whined pathetically. He threw you onto the bed once you guys made it to his bedroom, making you gasp. “Mhm, I ain’t forget about all that big girl shit you talked. You gon’ learn not to play in my face.” He reminded you as he pulled his shirt off, allowing you to see his bare upper body, his chest covered in tattoos.
You gawked at him, your eyes eating up every detail of his body. Ony pulled you by your legs, treating you like a rag doll as he parted your thighs causing your little dress to rise up. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful ‘ma” Ony sighed in delight as he began to kiss from your calf up to your inner thighs, goosebumps following the trail of his kisses. You flushed at his compliment, you loved the nonstop flattery.
You wanted him so badly, watching him as he took his time getting to the place that ached so desperately to be touched. Ony paused once he reached your wet cunt, his breath ghosting against your clothed cunt in an agonizingly teasing way. You quickly grew impatient as you began to whine and squirm, “stop teasing me” you huffed as you whined. He chuckled, “So fuckin’ needy” he tsked as he slapped your thigh to get you to stop squirming.
You whimpered and pouted but ceased your movement, “you’re taking too long. still no action…” you muttered as you rolled your eyes. “You ain’t getting shit from me unless you start actin’ right mama” he stated as he stared up at you. You stared back at him, huffing once you realized you weren’t gonna win in this situation. “fine, I’ll act right..” you obliged. “good girl.” He praised and placed a kiss on your clothed clit.
You swooned at the praise, soaking it up more than you thought you would. Ony didn’t waste anymore time, pulling your panties off and tossing them aside before he delve into your sweet pussy, dragging his tongue through your slick folds. You moaned out in satisfaction at finally getting what you had been craving since you saw ony standing outside his car waiting for you.
He suckled on your throbbing bud, his fingers spreading your lips apart as he focused on the sensitive ball of nerves. You gripped the bedsheets as you whined and moaned out shamelessly in pleasure. You were a dripping mess, ony making sure to lick up all of your fluids, the lewd slurping and sucking sounds filling the room as he did.
“such a pretty fuckin’ pussy” he awed as he pulled away and stared at your messy cunt, glistening with your slick. Ony spit on your pussy, adding to the filthy mess before he pushed his tongue into your entrance. “oh fuck” you moaned as you threw your head back, falling apart at the feeling of ony’s tongue fucking into you. Ony hummed as he devoured you with ease, enjoying every second of it and loving the sight of you becoming an incoherent mess.
His eyes fixated on you and your every reaction. Your dress bunched up around your waist, your hair sprawled out on his bedsheets, mouth parted in bliss and your eyes fluttered shut, cheeks flushed and nipples hard. You looked so beautiful, Ony felt like he was looking at a work of art. Ony licked up the fluids that ran down to your ass, you gasped and instinctively tried to close your legs when you felt his tongue prod at that hole that hadn’t been touched before.
“nah, none of that shit. stop playin’ with me.” He said as he pulled your legs back apart, gripping them in place so you couldn’t move them. You whined, shaking your head and squirming when you felt Ony’s thumb pressing on your ass hole. “n-not there..” you whimpered, not used to being touched there. “relax mama, let me take care of you. You can handle it.” He soothed as he placed kisses on tummy.
Ony used the mixture of his saliva and your juices as lubricant to ease his thumb into your tight hole, “onyy~” you cried out at the feeling as you clawed at the bedsheets. “You’re doing so good mamas” he praised before he started to eat you out again while his thumb continued to stimulate your sensitive hole. Tears brimmed your eyes at the overwhelming pleasure, your senses on overdrive at the combined feeling of ony’s tongue on your achy pussy and his thumb stretching your backside.
Ony stretched the tight ring until he was satisfied and then he pushed his tongue into your puckered hole, making you squeal as your back arched. He groaned as he fucked his tongue into you, starting this pattern of licking from your ass all the way back up to your throbbing clit, messily eating you out as drool pooled from his mouth onto your cunt down to your ass crack. You were a moaning mess underneath him, never experiencing such immense pleasure before.
The lower half of ony’s face was soaked in your juices, wetting his pretty beard that adorned his face. He loved every second of being buried between your legs, drowning in your essence. “sweet fuckin’ pussy, so good mamas. fuck.” He groaned as he ate you out like you were the best meal he’d ever had. You were a mess, makeup runny from your tears, eyes rolled back, legs trembling as your orgasm approached you like a truck.
“m’ gonna—ah fuck gonna cum mmph!” you cried out in bliss as that knot in your stomach bubbled to burst. “cum for me princess” he rasped, pulling your clit between his teeth and tugging at it. You screamed as you came, gushing all over ony and soiling his bedsheets in your fluids. Ony licked up all of your mess, moaning as he swallowed up your sweet juices like it was his favorite treat.
You sniffled and whined in sensitivity as he continued to lap at your cunt, feebly pushing at his head only for him to slap your hands away. “s’ too much” you whimpered with a pout, head still fuzzy from your orgasm. “Nah, I’m not done with you yet. Shut that shit up.” He said and he slapped your twitching pussy causing you to let out a sob. “You a big girl, right?” He taunted as he grabbed your hips, flipping you over and pulling your hips up into the air, pushing your back into a painful arch.
“Mm, my pretty girl” He cooed, rubbing his hand soothingly over your ass as he admired you in this position. You relished in the adoration, loving it and its contrast to his mean attitude. Ony took off his jeans, releasing his hard cock that was painfully hard and pearling precum at the tip. He sighed in delight as he stroked his cock and placed kisses down your spine, using his free hand to pull your dress off the rest of the way, you assisting him and throwing the dress aside.
Ony ran his cock through your puffy wet folds, his tip nudging your clit as he teased you making you whine. “Such a whiny slut.” He remarked in a mocking tone. “I wan’ it, please.” You begged shamelessly with a sob, you were so desperate and craved him so badly, you couldn’t care less about how pathetic you were acting at the moment. He grinned at your begging, “I thought it was too much?” He teased.
He pushed into you, throwing his head back as the two of you moaned in unison at the feeling. “shitt” he groaned out as he got lost in the feel of your tight walls swallowing up his cock. “feels so fuckin’ good mama” he grunted as he began to pound into you, not wasting a second as his gripped your hips tight enough to bruise. You became a babbling mess as he fucked you mercilessly, pulling your hips back hard against his each time he thrusted into you.
“love this pussy, so fuckin pretty and wet and warm..shit princess.” Ony rambled as he got fixated on how good you felt around him, your cunt gushing around him with every thrust. “s’ soo g-good daddy~” you babbled incoherently into the mattress, mouth parted, drool dripping from the corners of your mouth and your head in the clouds as ony used you like his own personal fleshlight. “Mhm, you like it ‘ma? Love daddy’s dick rearranging your guts?” He said as he wrapped a hand around your throat, leaning over you as his cock drilled deeper into you.
All you could do is nod in response, unable to form words as your body was consumed in pleasure, ony’s dick hitting that sweet spot that made you see stars. “you’re so fuckin’ cute. so fuckin’ pretty. wanna ruin you sweet girl.” He couldn’t get over how pretty you were, especially in this state. Your hair a mess, sticking to your sweaty body, back arched and ass up, pretty brown skin glowing under the moonlight shinning through ony’s window, inner thighs covered in your slick, lips swollen and red, cheeks squished in ony’s grip on your face, eyeliner and mascara runny underneath your eyes and down your cheeks, hands trembling as you struggled to hold yourself up.
Ony couldn’t get enough of the sight, wanting it engrained in his mind forever. He pulled your face towards his, kissing you passionately and messily as he continued to pound into you, the filthy mixture of your slick and his precum coating his pubic hairs and his happy trail. You moaned into the kiss, kissing back with just as much passion as you sucked on ony’s tongue making him groan. You loved it everytime he kissed you, the intimacy of it making your heart stutter.
Ony let his spit pool into your mouth as he broke the kiss, his opened mouth hovering over yours as you stuck your tongue out like a greedy pet, swallowing up every string of his thick saliva. “fuck..nasty fuckin’ girl. Gon’ make me nut mama” He groaned as he pounded into you incessantly. By now you were fucked dumb, not a single thought behind your dilated rolled back eyes.
All you knew at the moment was ony ony ony, his scent, the feel of his muscular framed body pressed against yours, the taste of him lingering on your tongue, the grip of his large rough hands manhandling your body as he pleased, the way his cock filled up your plush wet walls and satiated every ache, itch, and burning desire inside you. He overtook your entire being, bringing you to pure ecstasy.
Your climax hit you before you could even prepare for it, letting out a high pitched moan and sobbing into the mattress as you creamed all over ony’s cock. “that’s it mama, oh fuck- good fuckin’ girl. making a mess on my dick” he talked you through it as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm. Your body trembling as you fell apart completely, no longer able to hold yourself up as you whined in overstimulation.
Ony felt his head go fuzzy at the way your pussy pulsed and clenched around his dick, the lewd squelch echoing with every thrust as ony chased his own orgasm. “c-cum’n me please wan’ it” you manage to babble out, your words slurred and muffled into the bed. It took ony a moment to process your words, his brain muddled as he became pussy drunk, obsessed with your filthy warm walls sucking up every inch of his dick.
“You want it baby? Ah shit- want daddy to fill up your greedy cunt?. I’ll give you whatever you want pretty girl.” He moaned as his pace got desperate and sloppy as he felt that sensation build up inside him. “fuckk fuck!” He moaned out, throwing his head back as he finally came, his cum spurting out in loads and coating your walls, filling you up to the brim. You whined at the warm feeling as your cunt milked him dry.
Ony breathed heavily as his thrust slowed to a stop, “you okay sweet girl?” he asked softly as he placed a kiss on your bare shoulder. You only hummed and nodded in response, half passed out at this point. You were completely fucked out, body relaxed and exhausted from the overwhelming pleasure. Satisfied with your response, ony slowly pulled out, the mixture of your fluids pouring out messily and bubbling as he did. Ony loved the mess, the sight of his cum dripping down your thighs and his dick covered in the filth.
You snuggled deeper into the bed as ony got up and began to clean you up gently, not wanting to add more stress to your already spent body. He cleaned up himself as well before he tucked you in and climbed into bed with you. He admired your peaceful state, looking so beautiful and claimed by him. “I like you..onya~” you mumbled out in your half conscious state.
It caught Ony completely off guard but it made him smile, his heart swelling at your adorable confession. “I like you too sweetheart” he replied softly before he placed a kiss on your cheek. You smiled drowsily, happy to have met ony and taken a chance on him.
[thank you to everyone who read this, I appreciate it sm 🥹]
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mysicklove · 2 years ago
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AREN'T YOU JUST THE CUTEST LITTLE THING? (intro)
Welcome to my first kinktober, my loves! I've decided to make my own list of kinks for this year, so it will not line up with the official kinktober 2023 prompt list. I had a lot of fun with this, so I hope you all enjoy!
Fandoms included: mha, kny, bllk, jjk, aot
SIT. STAY. PAW. GOOD BOY! (general info)
ALL of these will be Dom! Reader. So, most of the kinks will be the character on the receiving end. I participate in aging characters up. Reader will either be: Gn! or AFAB (+Fem). It will be mentioned in warnings. Each fic will be released at 8 AM PST time and will be reblogged twice a day (most likely.)
My tag for this event is, #Barkforme!
DO YOU WANT A TREAT, PUPPY? (tag list)
Fill out this form to get notified for each post. Check out here to confirm I got you on the list!
Reblogs highly appreciated !!! <3
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OCTOBER 1st | PET PLAY w/ Izuku Midoriya and Katsuki Bakugou
☆ BARK FOR ME! cw: gn! reader, collars/leashes, dog ears, reader forces katsuki to bark, reader is purposefully mean to izuku, mlm (they are forced to makeout), hand jobs, slight orgasm control, tons of sappy nicknames 5.0k
OCTOBER 2nd | SUB SPACE + MOMMY KINK w/ Satoru Gojo
☆ FIX ME cw: Fem? reader (no pronouns just use of names: mommy and mama), unreleastic portrayal of sub space, mentions of BDSM (rough treatment, degradation,whips, mistress/master use), safeword use (at the end), lots of cooing, Gojo unable to think properly, praise, comfort, clingy/needy Gojo 2.2k
OCTOBER 3rd | ORAL FIXATION + FACE FUCKING w/ Rin Itoshi
☆ BAD MOUTHING cw: reader is fem coded, gagging, lots of drool and saliva, unrealistic potrayal of oral fixations, cringey dialogue in beginning, tears, reader spits in his mouth, cumming in pants, biting 2.2k
OCTOBER 4th | SENSORY DEPRIVATION w/ Kyojuro Rengoku
☆ LIGHT AS A FEATHER cw: gn! reader, blindfold/gag/earmuffs, feather usage, ice usage, nonverbal safe word discussed (not used), implied wax play, crying, begging/pleading, reader is a liar. 2.7k
OCTOBER 5th | SPANKING w/ Eren Yeager
☆ MAYBE NEXT TIME cw: gn! reader, crying, Eren trying to be good, cursing, mean reader, slightly sadistic reader, handjob/hand humping, restraints, Eren is a good and then a brat for a bit 1.6k
OCTOBER 6th | CUCKHOLDING w/ Seishiro Nagi and Reo Mikage
OCTOBER 7th | FEMINIZATION w/ Yuuji Itadori
☆ PRETTY GIRL cw: gn! reader, men in skirts/feminine clothing, yuji being shy and embarrassed the entire time, teasing reader, praise, reader refers to him as a "she" and "her" throughout the entire thing, handjob 1.7k
OCTOBER 8th | TOYS w/ Giyuu Tomioka
☆ LEARNING EXPERIENCE cw: , gn! reader, modern-day au, vibrators, bullet vibrator, anal play, nipple clams, vibrating cock ring, reader lowkey sadistic, safeword mentioned, giyuu crying/sobbing, 2.1k
OCTOBER 9th | CORRUPTION w/ Tanjiro Kamado
☆ EXPLORATION cw: afab! + fem! reader, hand jobs, tanjiro has sexual fantasies, reader is a tease/has experience, mentions of pee, tanjiro fondles boobs lol, brief mention of sexual harassment 3.6k
OCTOBER 10th | SOMINOPHILIA w/ Levi Ackerman
☆ DREAM A LITTLE DREAM OF ME cw: gn! reader, nightmares + insomnia mentioned, oral (m! receiving), handjob in dreams, implied age gap, set in around season 2 timeline? im kinda forgetting which season erwin was in... kissing..lots of kissing, reader being puppy coded and levi is sick in love 3.2k
OCTOBER 11th | COCK WARMING + NIPPLE PLAY w/ Suguru Geto
☆ SIT BACK AND RELAX! cw: afab!/fem! reader, reader gets called "ma'am" once, geto nipples are abused :/, bottom reader, creampie, reader is a bit of a pervert, nipple piercings mention, begging and crying 2.5k
OCTOBER 12th | SOUNDING w/ Keigo Takami
☆ SO FULL cw: gn! reader, sounding, HEAVY sub/dom spaces, hints of sado/masochism, mentions of anal fingering, keigo crying and twitching, cursing, pee/urine mentioned throughout 1.9k
OCTOBER 13th | DEGRADATION + COCK STEPPING w/ Douma
OCTOBER 14th | LEG HUMPING w/ Ryomen Sukuna
☆ ONE TIME THING cw: Gn! Reader, Yuuji and reader r dating (Yuuji x reader), lots of threatening of death/small violent acts,, reader slaps him, sukuna has 2 cocks in his true form, heavy power dynamics, mention of subspace, previous cuffing, small mounts of blood 4.4k
OCTOBER 15th | HYBRIDS w/ Megumi Fushiguro
☆ PURR OF AFFECTION cw: cat hybrid! Megumi, AFAB + owner! reader but no pronouns, reader is implied to be smaller than him, vaginal penetration, creampie, slight breeding kink, birth control mentioned and used, purring/licking/mewling, he calls you his "mate" and u tease him bout it, needy megumi 2.4k
OCTOBER 16th | PILLOW HUMPING + PHONE SEX w/ Tamaki Amajiki
☆ THE CALL BEFORE BED cw: sub! top! Tamaki, bottom! gn! reader, praise kink, slight breeding kink, reader is a slight tease and tamaki is trying not to pass out from embaressment, fantasies, creampie in fantasy Y/N? does that need a tag? 3.1k
OCTOBER 17th | VOUYERISM w/ Meguru Bachira and Yoichi Isagi
☆ PARTNERS TOUCH cw: Sub/bottom isagi, sub/top bachira, mlm, anal sex, AFAB! reader because of mentions of pegging, but rest is Gn!, overstimulation, doggy style, picture taking, hand job, praise, nickname "baby" once for Isagi 3.1k
OCTOBER 18th | DRY ORGASM w/ Yuuta Okkotsu
☆ LIKE A GIRL! cw: gn! reader, multiple orgasm, sorta mentions of cnc? idk, "breeder balls" are used in a silly goofy way, pregnancy mentioned, yuuta cums a total of six times, unrealistic portrayal of dry orgasms. 1.9k
OCTOBER 19th | PROSTATE MASSAGE w/ Seishiro Nagi
☆ WHAT A STRANGE FEELING cw: gn! reader, anal fingering, twitching, hand job, crying and drool 2.0k
OCTOBER 20th | BONDAGE w/ Nanami Kento
OCTOBER 21st | FROTTAGE w/ Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru
OCTOBER 22nd | A/B/O w/ Yoichi Isagi
☆ HEAT TALKING cw: Omega/bottom Isagi, Top/Alpha/Gn reader, omegaverse stuff (slick, claiming, scenting, etc.), isagi is in heat, readers pp could be read as strap or dick, marking/biting, slight blood, possesive behavior, instincts and stuff, isagi lowkey being feral 2.6k
OCTOBER 23rd | DRY HUMPING + CHOKING w/ Reo Mikage
OCTOBER 24th | SPREADER BAR w/ Zenitsu Agatsuma
☆ TWITCHY LITTLE THING cw: gn! reader, crying, reader kinda is pushy but Zenitsu is fine with it, VERY sensitive Zenistu, overstimulation 1.2k
OCTOBER 25th | RIMMING w/ Armin Arlert
OCTOBER 26th | PEGGING + PRAISE w/ Akaza
OCTOBER 27th | OVERSTIMULATION + EDGING w/ Megumi Fushiguro and Yuuji Itadori
☆ PICK YOUR POISON cw: Gn!/ sadistic/crazy?/meanish reader, weird amounts of cum...like a strangely alot of cum involved, frottage - mlm (ik ik i have another day for this only but i just had to include it), handjobs, bondage, megumi in subspace, megumi goes a little insane? reader checks up on him tho, orgasm denial, orgasm control 3.3k
OCTOBER 28th | EXHIBITION w/ Denki Kaminari
OCTOBER 29th | SADISM/MASOCHISM w/ Katsuki Bakugou
OCTOBER 30th | CONSENSUAL NONCONSENT (CNC) (DARK CONTENT) w/ Meguru Bachira
OCTOBER 31st | MASTURBATION w/ Izuku Midoriya
☆ LOST IN A FANTASY cw: fem/afab reader, izuku masturbates to your voicemail and pretends to fuck you, reader calls him baby, and he calls u hun, needy izuku 1.5k
TOTAL WORD COUNT: 54.3k - 21/31
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yinyuedijun · 1 year ago
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NIGHT FLOWER: part i
Your place in the world was one of a tool. This was true of every slave: you were all things to be used. Kakavasha understood this about you, and he understood this about himself. It was how he survived all those years ago, and it’s how he survives now. And so, when Aventurine goes into his first heat in years and decides to suffer it alone, you can only think of one way to get him to accept your help: You offer to let him use you.
written for @/lorelune's spring fever collab & @ficsforgaza
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13.5k words of omegaverse, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, angst with an eventual happy ending. gn alpha reader + omega aventurine (they each have both amab and afab genitalia). explicit piv sex, reader bottoms, the sex is consensual but emotionally complicated and deeply sad. cw slavery, racism, gendered violence, including very brief and non-graphic (but direct) references to sexual abuse during slavery. the sa and slavery are not eroticized. dead dove do not eat, mdni.
thank you to @acerathia, @minnaci, @owlespresso for all your help with beta reading and to @kosmiccarma for brainstorming omega aventurine hcs!
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“I’ve alw███ l█ved ███, Ka██v█s███”
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You knew it from the moment you met him.
Gaunt, pallid, weighed down by heavy chains. Irises that glowed like the auroras back in your world. Delicate features that made every passerby in the market stop to read the description on the placard. (Sigonian, it said, although you couldn’t read at the time. Avgin. Male. Omega. Sixteen years old. Sixty Tanba, no tax.) He had an all-consuming scent that was impossible to ignore—one that possessed you, made your heels dig into the dirt, every atom in your body resisting the impatient jerk of the chains at your wrist. Even through your muzzle, through the perpetual stench of carbon-steel and blood, you could smell it: honey and wildflowers. A fragrance that settled deep within you, flooded you with a warmth that felt like home.
Aventurine is not a spiritual person. He once told you this, his smile cold in the glow of an artificial moon. He'd been deeply religious as a child, but hasn’t since cared for fairy tales about fortune and fate, three-eyed goddesses or merciful rainfalls. Hasn't thought about anything like a destined love. He thinks the idea of a true mate is laughable, that no such bond could ever be forged between an omega and an alpha. That nothing so unconditional could ever exist.
You know differently, of course. You've known it from the moment you met him, from the second you laid eyes on him and thought, I need to help you, and I need to protect you, and I need you to be safe, and you’d never once heard the word ‘love’ in your life—slaves are never loved by their masters, after all, and you'd always been nothing but a slave—but every atom of your being knew that you loved him, that you'd always love him.
And when your master cradled your face that night and crooned that he owned you, that you'd always be his obedient, alpha pet—for the first time in your life, you knew that he was wrong.
You didn't belong to your slaver.
You belonged to him.
To Kakavasha.
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These days, Aventurine does not smell like honey, and your jaw is not restrained.
Your muzzle was one of the first things that Aventurine threw away when he bought your freedom. According to the Amber Era system, it had been several months since the murder of your shared master. Ninety-five Star Calendar days after the Interastral Peace Corps had arrested Kakavasha. An entire rotation around the black hole at the centre of your wretched galaxy, all of which had been spent in the captivity of some new mistress. She picked you out because she liked your calming scent and the look of your face, but mostly she used you for the fighting pits just like your old master.
Aventurine had been sitting in the audience of your final match, then bought you out right after you won. “I’m in need of a fighter,” he’d said, smiling in his thick furs and jewels. He played the part of a slavemaster perfectly, his gloved hands wandering the span of your aching shoulders, touching the bloodied maw of your mask. “And I’d be willing to pay top credit for yours.”
She protested. You were her most prized possession, one of her greatest investments. Slaves from your planet were hard enough to come by—alphas capable of reproduction, nearly impossible. And you were so well-behaved, so poised, so endearing in a way that was rare for alphas. She was fond of you. Her omega slaves were fond of you too. They would be distraught if you left, and that would complicate her household affairs—and surely Aventurine, as a respectable owner of human capital like herself, could understand how inconvenient that would be?
Aventurine bared his teeth in a gracious smile. (You’d never seen Kakavasha make such an expression before—so disarming, so cunning, a crescent moon beneath snake eyes. He’d never smelt like this either, like an expensive cologne layered with bleach, and it left you feeling nauseous, wondering if he was ill.) He flirted his way into her good graces, made her an offer she couldn’t refuse, and then he brought you into the first-class ship on which he’d arrived. You were so stunned by its luxury—the handwoven carpets, the crushed velvet seats, the imported tea from several galaxies away and the custom-ordered outfit he had bought for you—that you nearly missed the tremble in his hands as he punched numbers into the remote control lock for your chains.
He had regained his composure by the time he pulled away your muzzle, though. He threw it carelessly to the ground—your titanium chains, too. Then kicked both away with his shined leather shoes.
“There,” Aventurine said, smiling cheerfully. “Much better, don’t you think?”
“Vasha—” you started, voice thick with wasted grief, and all you wanted to was reach for him, to double check that he was real, but he placed a finger to your lips and stopped you. You stiffened at the satin touch, but he seemed unbothered.
“‘Aventurine’,” he corrected.
You stared blankly. “What?”
“‘Aventurine’. Like the gemstone. That’s my name now.”
“You—” Your voice caught in your throat. You realized that you’d been holding your breath. You always had the habit of holding your breath in the luxurious, private rooms of very rich men, because you never liked what happened in them. Forcing yourself to breathe, you asked, “You gave yourself a new name?”
“No. The IPC gave me a new name. They gave me a job, too.”
“A job?” you asked, voice faint. Now that you were breathing again, you were noticing once more just how bizarre he smelled. Sterile and expensive and completely foreign. “You’re free now?”
“Well, I’m a freedman, but I don’t know if I’d call myself free. I’m a bit… indebted to the IPC, let’s say. But that’s fine. I can’t complain. I mean—look around. This beats the fighting pits, doesn’t it?” He gestured lazily at your surroundings, and you nodded.
“It’s nice here,” you replied, feeling absurd but not knowing what else to say. Once Kakavasha got talking, it was impossible to get a word in edgewise.
“You like it here? Good. This room’s yours. Mine is the next one over. You’ll live and work here, with me. I’ll make sure you’re paid well. Full benefits, vacation, salary, and overtime. The standard pay for your role is seventy-thousand credits per month, but I’ll see if I can get you more. HR is pretty strict about their hiring policies, but—”
“You’re hiring me?”
Aventurine went very still, his smile tightly controlled. His eyes remained fixed on you, but they seemed less snake-like, now. They looked more familiar. More afraid.
“I’m offering, yes,” he said neatly. “You’ll be part of my personal security detail. I don’t have the contract for you to review yet, unfortunately. I didn’t arrange one ahead of time because, well”—he laughed, as if this were polite conversation and he were making a joke about the weather—“I didn’t know if I’d find you alive. But things worked out in my favour. They always work out in my favour. I’ll make sure they’ll work out in your favour too, so long as you’re with me. So you’ll consider it, won’t you? Staying with—working for me, I mean.”
Your eyes went soft. Beneath the artificial fragrance, you finally caught a hint of his familiar scent—more wildflower than honey at that moment, the way it always is when he’s scared.
“Kakavasha—”
“Name your price,” he said loudly, “and I’ll match it.”
You sighed. “Vasha,” you said more gently, and his shoulders relaxed at the subvocal shift in your timbre, at the famed alpha Voice that necessitated your muzzle, “I don’t care about the money. Of course I’ll stay here. But—what happened? Why did you kill him yourself? Why didn't you let me do it? That was the plan. It was always supposed to be me.”
It was my job, you thought then, just as you had thought to yourself every night, curled up in your bed and trying to recall the scent of fresh honey, to keep you safe.
He shrugged and said, “It would have been too risky to involve you.”
“You were caught and sentenced to death. The risk was already too high.”
“But the stakes weren’t,” he replied simply, and before you could ask what he meant by that, he continued, “and it worked out, didn’t it? I work for the IPC. You work for me. We’re freedmen now. Whatever I've lost, it doesn't matter. Our gains far outweigh it.”
“And what have you lost, Vasha?”
He smiled at you, charming and distracting. A crescent moon beneath snake eyes. “Nothing of value,” he reassured you, and even though you could feel the calm of an omega’s voice washing over you, even though it released all the tension in your body, all you could smell was cologne and wildflowers, and you knew that he was lying.
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Vasha once told you, curled up and quiet on the basement floor, that he despised his eyes. They were supposed to be a sign of blessing from Gaiathra Triclops, but they'd never brought him anything but trouble. They were the first thing that the slavers always noticed about him, the feature that made him such an alluring commodity. Their aurora glow, their strange beauty, their promise of a rare opportunity: a chance at owning a specimen of an exotic, endangered species, possibly the last of its kind. These are all things that you've heard in the parlour of your master’s house as he entertained rich company, the crowd of them gawking at his human curios.
Avgin are said to make the most beautiful slaves, he'd often say. And Avgin omegas are said to be the most beautiful among them. What do you all think? They'd all hum, peering closely at Kakavasha’s features, and inevitably someone would joke, I think I'd like to borrow him sometime, and then they would all laugh while your pulse ticked up and you imagined tearing at their throats. Vasha would search for your gaze in these moments, giving you a long, pointed look: Don't do anything stupid.
He’d always been so blasé about it, the way people fixated on his Avgin blood. You'll never understand how. He didn't react to any of the comments, the groping, the innuendos. He was, however, distinctly unimpressed at the way that your master liked to play him up as a rare and expensive acquisition, as a sign of his own status. It's embarrassing to watch, Kakavasha had remarked. Everyone knows that Sigonian slaves are uncommon but cheap—people always think we’ll bring them more trouble than our worth. This was how Kakavasha had ended up in the market in the first place: because his last master had been robbed, and he'd been wrongly blamed for it.
The blame, to this day, has never stopped. People—powerful people, politicians, businessmen, socialites—look at Aventurine’s eyes and immediately reach for their pockets. You've seen it for yourself, these spineless despots and scammers feeling for their wallets. Sigonian, you know they're thinking. Liar, cheat, thief, whore, worthless, worthless, worthless. Your hands tighten around your blade each time, a loaded gun with a finger on the trigger.
Alphas are said to be violent by nature. Aventurine has often called you the one exception to this rule: the most docile, good-hearted alpha he's ever met. But this is a lie. You do have a predator instinct, and it comes out in full-force whenever you’re around these particular types of men. These types who notice Aventurine’s eyes and see a thief; these monsters who see his irises and imagine what it would be like to bed him. You’d kill them if you could. It would be so easy, especially now that you are an IPC dog. The Company is already such a violent force; what would be one more murder?
But Aventurine has never ordered you to punish anyone. (Don't do anything stupid, he always tells you with a glance, smiling through every humiliation.) Nor has he ever seemed bothered enough by these meetings to try concealing his heritage.
A fellow Asset Liquidation Specialist once asked why he didn't just hide his eye colour—it would likely be better for fostering relationships, negotiating deals—but Aventurine had shrugged it off. I'm a gambler working with the IPC, he'd said. Do you really think a pair of coloured contacts would make anyone trust me? He'd laughed, and his voice had carried a threatening edge, and his coworker had shifted visibly at it. Being an Avgin is the least threatening thing about me, wouldn't you say?
You think that Aventurine likes being seen as a threat. Sometimes you wonder if this is why he doesn't mind wearing his eyes so much, but abhors keeping his scent. He washes his clothes until they're free of his disarming sweetness and then masks himself with an unsettling blend of ambergris, jasmine, and wood. And he is on suppressants all the time—hasn’t had a single heat since the day he killed his master. Hasn't smelled like himself, either.
At the end of the day, it’s manageable being an Avgin in this business, he often comments, spraying half a bottle of masking cologne on himself, but you can't be an Avgin and an omega. Wouldn’t you agree?
You'd know better than me, you reply, noncommittally—and truthfully.
But you're an alpha, he observes. Don't you have an opinion?
You don't pay me to have opinions, you always remind him, stone-faced. You pay me to stand here and look scary. And Aventurine always laughs at this, and he always wires you money and calls it a bonus as he pesters you for an answer, and he always gets distracted and starts scrolling through all his shopping wishlists instead. I saw this thing the other day and thought of you. And this too. Would you like either of them? Would you like them both? I’m a very generous manager, you know. I'll buy you anything you like.
But even though he always gets distracted, Aventurine never forgets. Sooner or later, he inevitably circles back to these questions—these anxieties about his scent, about his eyes, about his blood. He never cares for anyone else’s opinions, but he's always been curious about yours. Even when he was Vasha, he wanted to know what you thought.
He’d been sixteen years old and delirious with heat the first time he asked you, face wrinkling with pain as he spilled his thoughts. It was so incoherent, so sad, you thought it must have been about a fever dream. Mama Fenge, he kept saying. Mama Fenge blessed me, She blessed me, I'm blessed, it rained when I was born—did you know that? My luck, I was lucky. The Katicans, they never caught me. They got everyone else, but not me. I was blessed by Her. I'm going to save my people. I will. I'll save my sister. My eyes are proof. My mistress liked them. Said they're beautiful. Worth sixty whole coppers. A blessing. He pulled you close, pressed his scalding face to your scent gland, and his whole body shuddered with relief. This was the first and only time he'd allowed you to hold him, and it was only out of desperation, out of his mind. Do you like them, alpha? Do you like my eyes? Why? Is it because they're beautiful? Because they're from Gaiathra?
“I like them because they're yours,” you'd replied, and Kakavasha had laughed deliriously.
This is when he told you he hated them: I'd close them forever, if I could.
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When you were younger—dumber—you had a habit of squirrelling away every spare coin you came across. You collected them in a little purse that one of the omega slaves had sewn for you—a thank-you for always keeping the other alphas away from her—and you hid it underneath a loose floorboard. By the time that Kakavasha was arrested, you'd saved up twenty-nine Tanba. You’d wanted enough to buy Kakavasha’s freedom and then to set him up for a comfortable life.
It had been a stupid plan. An embarrassing one. If you ever confessed it to Aventurine, he'd laugh at you. Slaves can't buy other slaves, he'd say. Leave the schemes to me next time. You’re too good-hearted for it.
You’d already known that, of course. You knew that you didn't have the status to buy him or mate him or even just provide for him, but you wanted to. God, did you want to—you spent every waking moment thinking about it, every sleeping moment dreaming of it. It wasn't even that you desired him, though he was beautiful and fragrant and more delicate than anything that had ever touched you in your life, which was only your master’s hands and your muzzle and your chains. Aventurine would feel so soft in comparison, you’d always figured. It made your heart ache, thinking about getting to hold something so lovely.
But really—that desire came second. What came first was how mated omegas feel safe around their alphas, and you so desperately wanted him to be safe. Kakavasha had looked so frail, so grim, as your master took his chains and led him home from the market, and you could smell the fear coming off him in waves. And you could do nothing to stop it. You had nothing you could use to stop it—nothing other than your hands that could kill for him and your pheromones that could soothe him and your useless heart that wanted to collect sixty Tanba for him. That was all you had.
So you failed in the end. Of course you did. You didn't have the status to buy him or mate him or even just provide for him. You couldn't even do for him the one thing you could have done—which was to kill. And Kakavasha suffered for your incompetence. He had to dirty his hands with blood and gamble his way into wealth and then suddenly he was freeing you, not the other way around.
And now you are comfortable. You'll lead an easy life from now, Aventurine reassured you when he brought you onto his ship all those years ago, and he's kept that promise. What about you? you'd asked him then. Will you lead an easy life with me, if you're working for the IPC? And he had smiled and lied to you: Yes.
It had been a painfully obvious lie. If you were a smarter person, you'd have never believed it in the first place. Aventurine has no interest in leading an easy life, because an easy life would be less profitable, and less profit would mean less safety. And he is always, always worried about being unsafe. It is indiscernible to everyone but you—an alpha (his alpha, always his, even if he doesn't want you) who has watched over him for so long that you can detect every shift in his scent. No matter how much cologne he drowns himself in and no matter how strong his suppressants are, you know when he is afraid.
And here is the bitter truth, the ultimate proof of your shortcomings:
Aventurine is always afraid.
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It is a beautiful day on Agnisahr, and you can tell that Aventurine is about to throw up from worry.
You're sitting in the middle of stunning wealth—Aventurine in his feathers and jewellery, you in your tailored jacket—in a lobby made from marble and pale sandstone, with a view of palm trees and rolling, scarlet sand dunes beyond the window. The waitstaff addresses him as Honoured Guest and they keep his crystal chalice filled constantly with water—one of the most expensive commodities on the planet. Aventurine has been drinking from it religiously, which is strange as he typically has the habit of forgetting to hydrate. A faint wildflower scent is drifting from his slender form. These are the only giveaway to his mood: he's otherwise as pokerfaced as ever, smiling calmly as he discusses his plans to sabotage the local government and acquire the planet for the IPC.
“This is a very dangerous mission,” you state flatly.
“All my missions are dangerous.” He takes a sip, one pinky up. “The IPC pays me well for a reason. As they say—”
“‘High risk, high reward.’ I know.” You try not to sound bitter, though you allow yourself to sound tired. “I still do not think the risk is worth the reward in this case.”
“I think over 5.6 million in credits is a great reward, actually. We could do a lot with that kind of money.”
You raise a brow. “What could an extra 5.6 million get you that you can't already buy?” It is—as Topaz would say—‘chump change’ in comparison to his current wealth, which sums to a number so vast that you can't wrap your head around it.
Aventurine pretends to miss the point. “Tons! We could buy a new spacecraft. Get another mansion. Or—we could take a vacation to Penacony. I hear it's quite nice there.” A playful smile. “I could get us a penthouse unit. With a featherbed.”
You frown. Sometimes Aventurine likes to flirt when you're being stubborn—not out of interest, but as a ploy to distract you. He’d developed the habit after he joined the IPC. It used to fluster you, but now it only makes you cross your arms.
“You could die,” you point out.
“You'll protect me.”
“No, I won't. You always find a way to get rid of me when things are most dangerous.” You give him an accusatory stare. “You never let me do my job.”
He's too shameless to deny it. “And it's worked out fine, hasn't it? I haven't died so far.”
“Yes. Just by dumb luck.”
“I beg to differ. My luck is quite reliable.” He sets down his glass. Glances back outside. A microexpression, brows knotting for the briefest second as he studies the sky. “I'm not worried.”
“You're a shit liar.”
That gets him to look at you, letting a small frown pass over his face. “No, I'm actually a great liar. You're just too good at reading me. It's very inconvenient, you know.”
“I can't help it.” You lean toward him, making a show of it as you sniff. An orchid-like scent—faint but unmistakable—has seeped into artificial ambergris and wood. “It's hard to ignore.”
He hums. He isn't frowning anymore—but doesn't look happy, either. “I should change suppressants.” He taps the side of his empty glass, fidgeting. Aventurine never fidgets: it's an amateur giveaway. “These ones clearly don't work well enough.”
“That won't help. I know you too well.” Your eyes soften. He's looking outside again, the blues of his irises distant. “You're worried, Aventurine. More than usual. Let’s back out of this—let Jade handle it.”
“The mission isn't what's bothering me,” he says patiently. “I just don't like this planet.”
“Because you can tell it's dangerous.”
“No. Well—it is, but nothing I can't handle.” He leans back. “I just dislike the weather here.”
You arch a brow. “...the weather?”
“Yes,” he says neatly, “it's too dry here. I'll break out.”
You open your mouth. Close it. It is possibly the most absurd thing you've ever heard, and certainly the worst lie that's ever come from him. For as long as you've known him, Aventurine has had flawless skin, marble-smooth, and ever since being freed, he’s never really cared much for looking handsome so much as looking rich. But he maintains his serious expression: all-in on the farce. “Did you know that outside the capital, this planet hasn't had any natural rain in a quarter of an Amber Era? And the stellar winds are terrible. I don't know how people live on a planet like this.” His eyes narrow at the cloudless sky. “The IPC is going to need to do a lot of terraforming if they want to make this into a merchant hub.”
“Aventurine.”
“It'll be a pain crossing the desert—the elements will ruin my clothes, you know,” he continues. “It won't be so bad while we're on the ships, but we’ve got to go outside from time to time. Can't make any friends otherwise.”
“Aventurine.”
“And there's nothing to do for fun when we’re not working.” He sighs dramatically. “I can't wait to get our 5.6 billion and leave for someplace else. I'm being serious about Penacony, by the way—”
“Aventurine.”
“—though not about the featherbed. I'll get you your own room, obviously. And I'll buy whatever dream experience you’d like. What kind would you want?”
Finally allowed a chance to speak, you say, “One where you retire.”
“Retire? Why would I ever do that?”
“I don't know. Maybe you decide you've made enough money.”
“No such thing.”
“Then you can settle down with someone.”
That makes him smile. It feels mocking. “Me? Settling down? With who?”
“Who knows. Someone who will treat you better than the IPC, I hope.”
“Anyone that nice would run in the other direction. But never mind me. This would be your dream experience. What happens to you in it?”
“I stop chasing after you and get to live out the rest of my days in peace,” you say dryly, and Aventurine blinks. “Please stop deflecting. The IPC gave you a suicide mission. We will both die if we stay here.”
He looks serious now. “I wouldn't let you die.”
“You can't know that.”
“Well, I do. And I've got decent chances at surviving too—at least one in ten.”
You feel like sighing—a deep, aggravated noise is heavy in your throat—but Aventurine doesn't enjoy it when you show anger around him. It's the one omega instinct that he can't ignore, you suppose: unease around an aggressive alpha. Voice tightly controlled, you say, “You’re going to bet your life on one in ten?”
  “Sure. My chances were worse on the last planet, and things worked out great. It'll be the same on Agnisahr.” Aventurine raises a hand, calls for the bill. The conversation is over. You lean back in your seat, watching sourly as he pays tens of thousands of credits just for water.
“You know, they say the royal family is backed by an Aeon,” you can't help but point out, once the waiter is gone. A last-ditch effort. Aventurine smiles at it, amused. Like you're a child.
“So what?” He glances outside, at the desolate landscape beyond the oasis—nothing but red sand, a blue, rainless sky, and two radiant suns shining above it all. “The protection of a god is nothing compared to the schemes of human beings. And gods abandon their people all the time, anyway.”
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During your tenth day on Agnisahr, you realise that something is deeply wrong.
It takes you some time to understand what’s happening. At first you think that whatever political danger you’ve intuited is much worse than you thought, and that’s why Aventurine has been so pale, so discomforted, so exhausted. Then his scent starts changing—he switches clothes two, three times a day (because of all this heat during Agnisahran days, he tells his new business associates) and spritzes his nape with his cologne almost religiously—and you wonder if he is sick with something. If the food in this planet has something that disagrees with his Sigonian biology, or if he has picked up one of the local filoviruses, or if someone’s poisoned one of his meals because they’ve correctly identified him as a threat. Aventurine dismisses every single one of these theories when you bring it up, and—as if in denial—only attributes it to the weather. (I’ve never done well in deserts, he tells you, his eyes on his phone screen. I'm not used to them. It is above 300 Kelvin, and you do not see a single bead of sweat on his neck, and his cheeks are not even a little flushed.)
You only figure it out when he is too ill to get out of bed one morning and forbids all the IPC staff from coming near his hotel room. It sets off alarms immediately—Aventurine, no matter how sick, will work and see through meetings as long as he is mentally capable of it—and so you naturally ignore his orders and check on him, using the spare key to his sleeping quarters that you're given as a policy. And as soon as the door cracks open—as soon as you step inside only to be hit with a violent, cloying sweetness—you realise what’s happening and slam the door shut behind you.
“You’re in heat,” you blurt out, and Aventurine—a shivering, panting mess on the bed—groans in response.
“Why are you here?” He turns toward you, still lucid enough to glare at you through the tangled mess of his hair. His voice is weak, but no less self-possessed: “I was very clear—no company today.”
“I am your personal bodyguard,” you remind him mildly. Your voice is calm—both non-threatening and non-condescending. “Those orders don’t apply to me. If things feel suspicious, I look into it. And they felt very suspicious.” Your brow knits as you study his clothes. Mulberry silk clings to his form, soaked through with sweat. Thin, eucalyptus sheets are tangled up around him. There are only two pillows. No water bottles. No knotting toys.
Nothing.
“You didn't know you'd be in heat,” you realise. “What happened to your suppressants?”
“I don't know.” There’s a quiet, frustrated edge to his voice. Vulnerable too. It makes you think of when you were both still slaves, and Aventurine was confined to the basement of the manor—the one that all omega slaves were made to ride out their heats in. Either they would do it alone or were ordered to spend it with some alpha, usually either a friend of the master or an alpha slave he wished to reward. That's when they're most pliable, he'd tell his guests, or sometimes even you. They get so desperate they'll present themselves to anyone. Then amused laughter from the other party—How obscene!—as you looked away, blood hammering in your ears.
You had been your master’s favourite. His most obedient, most profitable pet—striking enough for his guests to admire, deadly enough for his audiences to bet on, docile enough for him to enjoy. Good enough for him to reward, and he often rewarded you with his most beautiful slave: his Avgin omega. Just don't mark him, he’d said, fastening the muzzle around your mouth. It'll ruin his market value. Who knows if someday he'd sell Kakavasha off to some alpha master who wished to claim him, he said. Though I don't think there's anyone in this star system who'd want a Sigonian for a mate, let alone a Sigonian slave. Then he’d paused, eyes scanning over you. As if contemplating. But maybe they'd try to get Avgin whelps out of him, he added, and you felt like throwing up.
You'd never mate him in those moments, your muzzle always prevented you from saying. You didn't even want to think about touching him, and he didn't want to think about it either. Even in the cruel grip of his heats, with nothing but the thin mat beneath him and his slave’s rags around him, Kakavasha hadn't wanted any kind of contact from you, rejecting any chance of solace. Don't, don't—not again, not again, he'd begged. Then as the nights marched on and his mind grew hazier, he’d start whimpering too: It hurts, alpha. It hurts. Help me. It hurts. Don't touch me. Not again. It hurts. It hurts. Stop it, please stop it.
It gutted you.
It went against every instinct, not to touch him. To let him lie there, in scorching, lonely pain, when all you wanted to do was to dispel it. It would be so easy to press yourself against him and let his skin cool against yours, do the one thing that your body was good at other than killing. But not again, not again, I can't anymore, I don't want it, I never wanted it, and all you could do was sit there, unmoving. Watch as the most delicate, precious thing you had in your life shatter.
And standing here now, watching Aventurine shatter before you once more—it is unbearable. He needs a nest, you keep thinking. He needs a nest and some water and some kind of touch, some kind of relief, but not again, not again, and you’re still a slave, still a worthless and stupid slave, and Kakavasha is still crying on a basement floor and you can't do anything for him.
“You need help, Aventurine,” you say, voice soft, and his whole body tenses. His scent dips, and the scent of florals overwhelms you.
“No,” he breathes, “I don't.”
“You do. You're sick.” You bite your lip. Your heart splits as you suggest it, but you say, “I can call a professional.”
“No,” he spits. The facade is gone. The poker face has cracked. The anger and the pain and the fear are all on full display, and his voice sharpens: “No strangers.”
No foreign scents, you realise he's demanding. A new scent would probably make him feel unsafe.
Then let me help you, you think of pleading, but not again, not again, and you're filled with so much shame at the thought that all you can do is look away.
“Then—can I do anything?” He goes still. “Not—not that, but something to make you more comfortable. I can build you a nest, at least—”
“No.” He takes a deep, shaking breath. “No nests. I don't need one—”
“Yes, you do.”
“No, I don't,” he says. His voice is wavering now, on the verge of crumbling with fever and pain. “I've never—I’ve never needed a nest, I don't—I don't want to—” He presses his face into his pillow. “I need—I need to be alone, fuck—”
He doesn't mean to whine. The cry for distress is instinct, something that all omegas are programmed to do in heat. You’ve heard that they’ve evolved to make this noise as a way of appealing to nearby alphas for help, but you think this must be a lie as you never once saw your alpha master giving mercy to any of his omega slaves. Still, whether it is your biology or not—the noise that Aventurine makes has your heart aching so much you can't help but step forward. But he shakes his head and inches away, shuddering violently, and then his voice echoes again in that cold basement—not again, not again, and don't touch it anymore, don't use it anymore, don't use me anymore, not again, and it's all you can do to back away until your spine is pressed against the door.
“I'm sorry, Vasha,” you say, strained. “I’m sorry. I'll leave you now.”
As the door shuts behind you, you catch a final glimpse him—face pressed into the pillows, shivering.
If you didn't know better, you'd think he was crying.
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When you were both slaves, Aventurine hated seeing you during his heats.
Kakavasha was normally calm around you. Most of the time, he was even friendly (he was friendly to everyone whom he thought could be useful), but he was different during his heats. Sometimes he was vicious; mostly he was withdrawn. Nearly always, he wanted to be left alone. In those moments, all he could register was your alpha scent and his memories of what other people had done to him during his heats. And while you'd have hated to leave him, despised the idea of him being offered to another alpha—even more than that, you hated violating this boundary of his. Hated that you were allowed to do whatever you wanted to him. Hated being the reason he felt so unsafe.
Hated being an alpha.
Now that you no longer have the orders of your slavemaster hanging over you, it is the least you can do to respect Aventurine’s wish of being left alone. He has every right to privacy, and you have every obligation to give it to him. But instead you have been standing here, outside his door, for a full system-hour.
Every time you try to leave, your body is wracked with anxiety. The thought of other people—other alphas—coming near him in this state makes you seethe, your hands flexing at your side. The predator instinct comes out, and the people around you notice it. Every person unlucky enough to walk down this hall scurries away under your glare, even the other IPC staff wandering about to look for Aventurine: Must be their mate on the other side, they remark to one another, and then they're gone.
It is a hard thing to hear. You are not his mate. You are not even a heat partner. If you were, then he wouldn't be in so much pain. Not now, and not back then.
Aventurine has never had easy heats. You keep replaying your memories of all his past ones, each one a wound in your heart: the aching sweetness of nectar and honey; his withering body as he clutched his abdomen and curled up; the tears and sweat staining the mat beneath him. And above all: the fear. The scent of it, the sight of it, the sound of it in his voice. Stronger today than any other day.
By instinct, you know that he cannot persist like this. That this time is somehow worse than all those other times, and that he will become seriously ill if left alone.
After nearly an hour and a half, you finally open the door, fearing the worst.
“Aventurine?” you say quietly, but there's no response, and your stomach drops as you see him.
His body is pale, listless. If it weren't for the fragrance washing over you or the sweat on his temple, you'd worry that he was dead.
Tentatively, you reach out. Rest a hand on his forehead, and it scorches you. He stirs at the touch, doesn't open his eyes—but the quiet sigh of relief is unmistakable. His fingers twitch, as if wanting to reach for you.
“Aventurine,” you say gently. “Aventurine, I'm going to take care of you. Is that alright?”
He doesn't respond. You grimace, pulling away to fetch things for him: several spare pillows from the closet, an extra blanket too. From his suitcase, you grab a few of his sweaters, all thick cotton and fleece. He’d had a sense that Agnisahr would be cold at night. Deserts always get cold after sundown, since sand doesn’t retain heat, he'd told you while he was packing. Or I think so, anyway. Don't know why. Must have read it somewhere. Then he’d given you a long, unreadable look before saying, Make sure to bring a jacket. The warmest one you have. The elements on a planet like Agnisahr can kill a person—even a person like you.
I’m sure I’ll be fine, you’d dismissed him. I can survive anything. Any kind of weather, any kind of illness, any kind of pain: these are all things your species is known for being able to endure, the trait that made you such a prized slave in your master’s eyes, such a useful agent at the IPC. You hadn’t given Aventurine’s warning any thought and hardly paid attention to what you’d thrown into your own suitcase.
It surprises you, then, that you find one of your sweaters in his luggage. Made from Sedanian cashmere and heat tech designed by the Intelligentsia Guild. Cloud-soft and warm to the touch. Aventurine had bought it for you before you were deployed to Jarilo-IV to collect intelligence for Topaz. Warmest thing in the known universe, he’d commented. One of a kind, too. Remember to wear it, alright? Don't let my money go to waste, now.
You stare at it, kneading the fleece between your fingers. You hadn’t mentioned wanting to bring this sweater. You’d lost it in your closet some months ago and forgot about it. Aventurine must have remembered and gone looking for it, because—why? You aren't sure. Probably because it’s warmer and softer than anything he owns, you guess. Of course he’d want to wear it.
You throw it into the pile of things you’ve collected for him.
You take it all to his bed, the mattress dipping as you sit next to Aventurine. One by one, you scent each item with your wrist, watching him carefully the whole time. You’re quiet as you lay them out around him, leaving him undisturbed as you build a nest. You order water and electrolyte drinks too, and you’re quick about going to the door when you hear room service knocking—with how feverish he is, he probably badly needs it.
Aventurine is awake when you come back. His breathing is still laboured, pained—but calm.
“I said I didn’t need a nest,” Aventurine says, though he doesn’t sound angry. You wonder if he’s too weak to be. His voice is faint, and his eyes are barely open—focused on the pile of blankets and clothing around him.
“You’re welcome.” You open a bottle of water, hold it out to him. “Drink.”
Aventurine pauses, stares at the offering like it's some kind of foreign object. But he accepts it eventually, sitting up and taking it from you. He winces with the movement, which he tries to hide. He ignores your frown as he drinks, and he doesn't stop until the bottle is empty.
“There are more,” you say, pointing at the several additional bottles on the nightstand. “And some food and some painkillers. I don't know how well they’ll work. This isn't a normal heat. If you're alright with it, I'll call a doctor and—”
“Everything smells like you,” he says quietly, and you stop.
“...yes. Unless they’re mated, nests usually feel most comforting to an omega when they smell like an alpha.” You swallow, looking away. “...you don't have a mate, and you didn't want a professional, so this was the only option I could think of. I'm sorry.”
“It’s fine,” he says. He picks out one of the sweaters that have made its way into the nest, the Sedanian one. “I don't mind it.”
“Oh.” You let out a breath. “Then—can I call a doctor?”
His grip on the sweater tightens. “No.”
You frown. “Aventurine—”
“I’ve never needed a doctor before,” he says. He sounds unbothered, but he's fidgeting with the sweater now. “I don't need one now.”
A lie. He almost certainly needed a doctor in some of his prior heats, but you don't push the matter. “Maybe you don't need one,” you say instead, “but it would help.”
“I don't need help,” he says, and you look at him in disbelief. He catches your expression, and the corner of his mouth lifts. “Not more than you've already done, I mean.”
“I’ve barely—”
“Contact Topaz. Tell her I'm incapacitated. Tell her…” He hums. “Tell her I have food poisoning. The personnel too. It's not time-sensitive, our business on Agnisahr, so it shouldn't matter if I need a few days off.”
“You really need—”
“Give my regrets to our Agnisahran friends. Deliver it in person. They see you as my right hand, so they’ll most appreciate it coming from you. Topaz can help you with the verbiage. And—try to socialise with them a little, won't you? I think that little omega princess of theirs likes you. Some of the courtesans too, and they have surprising influence.”
“I do not want to be around any omega other than you right now,” you say before you can stop yourself, and Aventurine stops, blinking. His expression is blank, if perhaps a little curious—but his scent shifts. You can't identify how. You add quickly, “I’m not leaving you alone when you’re this sick.”
“Ah. Right.” Aventurine looks away. His voice sounds strange, and his heat must be getting to him again, because it carries a hint of pain. “But you have to. The IPC’s goals take priority.”
You frown. “Your life is more important than the IPC,” you say, and he laughs. Loudly.
“What? This is just a heat. I’m not going to die.”
“You don’t know that without seeing a doctor.”
“I do. I’m willing to bet money that I won’t die.” He cuts you off before you can reply: yes, you're always willing to bet on your life. “And even if I do, that would still be less important than Agnisahr. Do you know how many resources are on this lifeless rock?” His mouth slants. “If we mess up here, I’m dead anyway.”
“I wouldn’t let them touch you.”
“Yes, you would—because they would kill you too.” Aventurine sighs. His eyes close, and his brow creases—a sign that whatever reprieve he was lucky enough to get is about to end. “Go do what I asked. Don’t do anything stupid. I’ll… see a doctor if you do.”
You stand immediately. “Alright. I’ll be back to check on you.”
“I know.”
You stop at the door, giving him a long look. Seeing him like this—lying on a proper bed, cradled in a warm nest, with water and food and medicine nearby—you feel a little better. This is leagues beyond what he’d been afforded in his days as a slave, at the very least. Even if he isn’t free, at least he isn’t trapped.
But it still doesn’t feel good, having to step away. The last thing you want to do is talk to other people, pretend to have interest in other omegas. There are an astonishing number of them who are interested in you on this planet—that princess, and some baron’s son, and one of the prince’s favourite paramours—but you can’t bring yourself to care even for business purposes when Aventurine is like this. You can't act as if you are enjoying yourself when you know he is in pain.
You wonder about telling Topaz the truth. You wonder if she’d be worried enough about Aventurine to let you neglect this mission and cover for you instead, without letting Jade or Diamond or anyone else dangerous know. Not that you think that anyone at the Company particularly cares about Kakavasha—it’s only that he’s valuable. Aventurine of Stratagems is valuable. How many worlds have fallen because of him?
But he seemed unwilling to bet on his worth to them. Which is startling, given how often he's bet on it in the past.
“What’s so important about this planet,” you can’t help but ask, “that the IPC would rather you die than lose it?”
He’s silent for a long moment. His eyes are closed—hidden—but you can see his knuckles whiten as he clutches the Sedanian sweater.
“Copper,” he says. “They want it for the copper.”
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When Kakavasha first suggested a friendship to you, it had felt like something in between a proposition and a threat:
Go ahead, he'd said. Use me as you wish. You can even stab me in the back if you want. Just be mindful of this: I don't make deals that don't pay off.
It might have been a strange way of making friends in any other circumstance, but in a house of slaves, it was a natural one. You had not been a clever person—still aren't—but you understood that your place in the world was one of a tool. This was the place of all slaves: you were all things to be used. Your body was a thing to be used. It was valuable for its strength, for its hardiness, for its threat in the arena and for its convenience in your master’s bed (or in a dark basement, or within a heat house, or inside whichever omega your mistress ordered you to calm down). It did not surprise you that Kakavasha wanted to use it as well. It did not surprise you that Kakavasha expected you to use him in return.
You never would have, of course. Kakavasha was not a thing to be used—he had always been a mate. Though you were happy to let him use you, because all you were was a tool anyway, so it was really all you could offer him: to be used.
None of this has changed for you. You don't think any of this has changed for Aventurine, either. With each new friendship he makes, he repeats those familiar words: Use me as you wish. And with each person who accepts, this is exactly what they do: they use him, and they use him, and they use him until suddenly they notice he's tricked them and they've got the losing hand.
You damned gambler, they always spit. You Sigonian wretch. All you know is how to manipulate people. Thief, liar, cheat, whore. Despite all these insults, Aventurine always smiles at them. Cry as they might, he’s won his bet and has their world in his palms.
Winner takes all, he sometimes gloats.
Winning and losing. Using and being used. Exploitation and treachery. This is all Aventurine knows; these are his great guiding principles in life. (He's told you this point blank, stacking up chips in his favourite gambling dens with a self-satisfied grin.) You often find yourself coming back to these conversations, particularly when you need to convince him of something.
And right now, you very badly need to convince him of something.
Aventurine is ignoring his doctor’s advice. His suppressants are unstable in extreme temperatures, he's been told. During travel on Agnisahr, they'd degraded, and now he’s experiencing his first heat in several years. Of course it's going to be painful, his doctor had said. I can prescribe you some medication to ease the symptoms, but really—nothing will work better than a heat partner. It doesn't need to be a mate. Any alpha will do.
The doctor had been an alpha. You had asked for a beta or omega, but alphas tend to dominate in Interastral Medical Schools, so they're in short supply. Aventurine had been still the whole time, face unreadable, but you could tell he wanted to throw up at the stench of an unfamiliar alpha. You had stepped between the two of them, not bothering to hide the animosity in your voice. We’ll take the medication, you had said, and the doctor had sniffed the air and nodded at you in approval.
Probably won't need it. An alpha like you could sort him out with just a few rounds, he told you, and both of you stayed quiet as he left.
You still aren't talking, or even looking at each other. Aventurine has lay down in his nest again, closing his eyes, while you stand as far away as physically possible—at the door where you'd just shown the doctor out. With the room shut off again, windows closed and door locked, Aventurine’s scent is starting to flood your senses once more. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch him shivering.
“What do you want to do?” you ask.
“Nothing.” He swallows. “I'll be fine.”
He's afraid. You can tell he's afraid. And you can tell he’ll be more afraid if you take even a single step closer to him, so you nod and say, “I'll go pick up your medication, then,” and Aventurine doesn't stop you. You can see him curling up in his nest, face pressed into the cashmere sweater.
But he still doesn't stop you.
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After a few more days, Aventurine finally breaks.
There is a rare sag to his shoulders when he calls you to the room, along with a taste of dread in the air. You haven't seen him so vulnerable in years. Aventurine is not an open person, so cunning and self-possessed in his wealth—but Kakavasha was more brittle, more powerless, flayed raw and open even though he didn't often get the whip. (It would ruin his value if he ever scarred—his looks were his greatest selling point, your master said.) He was especially defeated when forced to spend his heats with an alpha he didn't want. You wonder, a vice grip of pain around your heart, whether this entire situation is simply an extension of that. Whether he is calling you here against his will, this time compelled by his pain, rather than his master. Whether this luxury suite feels like that wretched basement to him.
He doesn't look at you when he talks, nor does he sit up. He remains curled in his nest, nearly clinging onto the blankets and clothes.
“That stupid medication,” he pants out, sharp even in his heat, “isn't working.”
“I can tell.” Your brow knots. He’s in so much pain, it is palpable. “I”—you hesitate, voice dropping. “Can I help you?”
He goes quiet. As both Aventurine and Kakavasha, he has always been disinclined to accept help from other people. There is no such thing as unconditional help in his mind—only leverage and weakness. He hates it when people have leverage over him, and he hates being weak. Both are things that can be exploited, and Aventurine always needs to be the one doing the exploiting. He always needs to be in control.
Even like this, the last threads of his sanity about to snap, with every circuit of his omega biology trying to drag him into insensible lust, he fights viciously to be in control.
Winning and losing. Using and being used. Exploitation and treachery. Control and being controlled. This is how he's always lived. This is how he's always survived.
This is the only way to let him maintain control when he is most afraid of losing it.
“I don't mind,” you say quietly, “if you use me.”
Even through the haze of heat, Aventurine’s eyes sharpen. “What?”
“I don't mind if you use me,” you repeat, voice neutral. Unfeeling. The proposal might sound cruel to someone else, but not you. After all—your place in the world is one of a tool, and this is what you've always done as an alpha and a slave: sleeping with people to take care of their needs, or sometimes just their desires. It did always make you feel strangely hollow, but you think it will feel just fine with Aventurine. All you've ever wanted to do is keep him safe, and surely, this will do that, but—
“I'll only help if you want. I don't want to force it.” You lower your eyes. “But if you do want it, I'll be careful with you. You can lead. I promise.”
“...I know.” Aventurine’s voice is weak, cracks with pain, but you can tell he's speaking with clarity. “I know you will be.”
You look up. “Then you'll let me help?”
Aventurine looks away—a sign that he cannot adopt his usual smile. He’s clutching that sweater again, pressed close to his chest.
“Just your wrist,” he says quietly.
You listen carefully. “What?”
“I just—I just want your wrist.” He looks away. “Your—your scent gland. Only that.”
“Okay.”
You get up, then falter. When it was your job to comfort your mistress’ omega slaves, you were told to enter their nests—no permission needed from them, no permission needed from you, because only her permission ever mattered for anything. The omegas were usually too delirious to care, often had even begged for it with the state of mind that they were in. But Aventurine is different. He's not like you, and he's not like them. He's never bent to any of his masters’ wills. And even if he did, you wouldn't want to have him bend to yours.
Instead of climbing into his nest, you ask, “Can I sit on the bed?” He doesn't answer. “Just the edge of it,” you add, and you hear him exhale.
“Fine,” he says, breathing measured.
“Thank you,” you say, and he gives you a confused look. But then you're reaching out with a hand, offering it, and he is quickly distracted.
Aventurine drops the sweater, grabs your hand almost immediately. He turns over your palms, fingers tracing your heartlines—as if testing you, as if mapping out territory. He runs his thumbs along the veins of your wrists, too, right over your scent gland, and you have to force yourself not to shudder at the feeling. You only stay still, letting him explore the contours of your hands, letting him acclimate to the feeling of your skin. He laces his fingers with your own, a latticework trap, and he finally drags his wrist along yours.
Both of you inhale sharply.
You can't react. You know it'll scare him if you do, but it's hard to keep still. The way his scent blossoms, the way it mingles with yours, the way it all washes over you—what you're doing can hardly be called touching, but you feel like you're going mad. Especially when he flushes like that, his vibrant eyes fluttering shut. Especially when the sweetness of honey overtakes your senses. Especially when you can smell the way his body is reacting, all that wetness and heat and slick dripping between his legs. You don't miss the way his thighs rub together, nor the hard outline of his cock straining against his pants.
Aventurine shudders. He brings your hand up to his face, rests his cheek in your palm. His skin is flushed and burning with fever, and it's no wonder that he's sighing with relief at your touch. You try not to stare at the way his mouth falls open. He looks at you for a moment, his gaze a hazy violet and blue—before he closes his eyes again and presses his lips into your wrist.
Fuck.
“Aventurine—” You have to stop, voice strangled, when you feel the full softness of his lips working against your skin. He’s panting now, laboured breaths sweeping over your veins. Then you feel his teeth catch, a gentle nip on your flesh, and when he groans into your racing pulse—deep, relieved, desperate, a noise that makes your gut flare with heat—you realise you can't do this.
You pull back your hand, and Aventurine startles.
“Aventurine,” you say, voice strained. Maybe we should stop, you want to say, but he cuts you off.
“I need”—a shaky breath—“I need more.”
You watch Aventurine carefully. His pupils are dilated, blue irises nearly eclipsed. His cheeks are rosy, and he can't stop panting. You can fully smell his arousal now, even through his silk clothes. He's desperate, needing to be filled.
But he also looks torn. His brows are knotted, and you can taste a faint hint of fear in the air now. His knuckles clutch at the sheets, almost white, and he stares at them. He can't look up. He can't look at you. His whole body is tense, like he wants to bolt—and if he weren't so weak, you think he might actually.
“Are you sure?” you ask.
He doesn't nod. He also doesn't shake his head. His arms clutch at his midsection as he winces. He doesn't look like Aventurine. He looks like Kakavasha. It makes your heart ache as you watch him give into his body’s demands, wearing the same expression he did on the day your master bought him.
“...don't use your Voice on me,” Aventurine—Kakavasha—says quietly.
It takes you a moment to realise what he's asking. “I won't.”
“And”—his eyes somehow grow even more evasive, hidden by his long lashes— “don’t touch my commodity code.”
His commodity code. His commodity code that is seared into his scent gland. His code that, if you kiss, will ease his agony instantly. His code that, if you bite—will chain him to you irreversibly.
“Of course I won't,” you say instantly.
He closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath.
“And—” Aventurine looks away, jaw tight. His voice is quiet but wrought with tension: “—I don't like when people put things inside me.”
Something claws the walls of your heart.
“That's fine too,” you reply. “I don't mind doing it the other way.”
Aventurine’s sigh is nearly inaudible, but unmistakable. His scent shifts a little bit, the wildflower fragrance fading ever so slightly. But he doesn't come to you. He merely sits there—waiting. Expecting. Maybe dreading. Even in the senseless daze of heat, he’s too anxious to move.
You approach slowly. Though you're overwhelmed by the bouquet of his scent, though you feel a curl of heat in your belly in response to it—you are slow. Alphas are supposedly victims of insatiable lust whenever around an omega in heat, absolved of every action they take, but you are convinced this is a lie. You have never once wanted to handle Aventurine with such cruelty. You think that inflicting violence on him, more than anything else, would go against your biology. Every molecule in your body would reject putting him in such pain or inciting such fear. So you are careful when you approach him, slow as you inch up to him—but you do not think it helps.
Aventurine lies down, his face turned away from yours. His eyes squeeze shut, like he's expecting this to hurt. Uncertainty gnaws at your gut as you lean over him, draping your body over his—the only position you've ever taken an omega in, other than mounting them from behind.
(You do not want to mount Aventurine. You never have. It is an impersonal position, a position that omega biology supposedly would force him to enjoy, a position that alphas have likely dictated him to enjoy. You think there is nothing you would hate more. In your weakest, most selfish moments, in your worst ruts, when you’ve allowed yourself to fantasise about mating Kakavasha—you are always facing each other, and he is always looking at you with his eyes you've always loved, and it always feels intimate. Never impersonal. Never dictated. Never forced.)
Aventurine is so honeysweet beneath you. More fragrant than any omega you’ve ever been with. You glance at his commodity code, trying to ignore the scent of his branded skin, then lean down to press your face against the other side of his neck, where a faint scar mars the otherwise flawless slope of his nape. Like every other omega slave you've ever slept with, the scent gland there has been excised: a precautionary measure to reduce the risk of an unwanted mating bite.
(Not unwanted by them—the wants of a slave never matter—but unwanted by their owners. A mating bite would ruin the code seared into their neck, claim an omega more deeply and permanently than any titanium collar or carbon steel chain. It would hurt their resale value. Only owners are allowed to claim slaves in such a permanent way—and the wants of a slave have no relevance there, either.)
It's a funny thing, this surgical scar. Even with their gland missing, you've noticed that most omegas like having their neck scented by you anyway, probably from some vestigial instinct. You guess that Aventurine won't be any different, that maybe it will comfort him. But when your lips skim the scar left on him by his owner, his entire body stiffens beneath you. His fragrance cuts into your lungs, sharp.
You recoil, as if burned by the touch of him.
“Sorry,” Aventurine is quick to say. He tries to glance at you, but his diamond pupils quickly avoid you again. “Don’t worry about me. Just do whatever you need to do.”
“But you're scared,” you point out, and you see his brow twitch. “You’re scared when I touch you.”
“Not scared,” he lies. “Just…”
When his eyes finally look at you—land on your lips—you understand.
A bite would claim an omega more deeply and permanently than any titanium collar or carbon steel chain. If you lost your mind—give into the insatiable lust of an alpha whenever around an omega in heat—you might bite him, and then you would own Aventurine.
And Aventurine would rather die than be owned by anyone again.
He doesn't need to finish his sentence. You already know what you need to do.
“It's okay,” you say gently, and his brow knots. “I have an idea.”
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Aventurine is always afraid.
This is a fact that has haunted you since the day you met him. You've wondered about how to fix it—the bare minimum as his mate (always his, even if he doesn't want you)—and you’ve never quite pinned down how. Because when someone has spent their life in perpetual fear, how do you make them feel safe? When their life is constantly at risk, how do you ever make them feel calm?
You still aren't sure of the answer. But after seeing Kakavasha become Aventurine, you now have a good guess.
It is clear from his scent that Aventurine does not feel remotely safe right now. Not when you leave to fetch something from your own room, and not when you return. The anxiety thickens when he sees, in your hands, a very familiar muzzle.
Aventurine stares. He is not smiling, but he also does not reveal his discomfort on his face, even as beads of sweat line his temple. But his voice is too controlled, too calm, when he asks, “You kept the mask.”
You nod.
“I told you to throw it out,” he points out, “when I freed you.”
“I know. Sorry. I don't know why I kept it.” You remember how tightly you clutched it before the incinerator, thinking about how strange it would feel, discarding something that you'd worn everyday since you presented—but you don't tell him this. Instead, you say, “But it’s convenient.”
Before Aventurine can say anything, you toss him the remote.
“You’re afraid of my bite and my Voice, but you don't have to be with this,” you explain. Your tone is gentle, soothing. Probably disarming coming from an alpha, with how he is in heat. Perhaps that's why he’s studying the remote rather than chucking it away. “You'll be in full control if I wear this.”
Control. Mere seconds after you say it, you can smell his fragrance change again, mellowing. It's only a brief moment of calm that fades when you latch the mask onto your face, but he doesn't smell as nearly as stressed before.
Aventurine watches you carefully as the carbon steel swallows your maw, its old and familiar edges biting into you. For the first time in years, you cannot tell what he is thinking—truly poker-faced even to you.
“You aren't bothered by wearing that thing while we do this,” he says—asks?—and you shake your head. The muzzle was part of you for years. You were wearing it when you killed someone for the first time. You were wearing it when you went into rut for the first time. You were wearing it when your master had sex with you for the first time. It doesn't bother you that you’ll wear it when you have sex with Aventurine.
If you could speak, you would ask him, Why do you think it would bother me? But all you do is gesture for him to sit up. To switch places with you. You lie down—something you've never done with an omega—and wait for him to get on top.
Aventurine stares at you for a long, quiet moment. It's followed by a sigh of relief. Disarmed, he—for the first time in any heat you've witnessed—finally relaxes. His scent wafts over you as he climbs between your legs, and you can feel the heat radiating from his hands as he parts your thighs, almost scalding.
He doesn't bother getting you ready, too needy to think rationally, but he doesn't have to anyway. You've been wet ever since you felt his mouth touch your wrist, hard ever since you heard him groan into it. You're equally desperate to get some relief as you feel his cockhead sliding against your opening, leaking all over your entrance as his slick drips onto your thighs. His breath shakes as he enters you, and he can't hear it with how you're muzzled—but you groan just as deeply as him at the tight stretch.
You hear him swear when you clench around him, watch him lean over you. His arms shake as he supports himself, refusing to succumb to his heat even as he chases his relief. You seek out his gaze (just as in your dreams, facing each other, intimate), and his neon eyes catch on your eyes for a brief, breathtaking second—
—before he looks away.
There's a flash of—you don't know what, maybe pain? Or fear?—in his irises as he does. A twitch of the brow, a tell he'd normally rather die than let slip. You have the realisation, as Aventurine moves inside you, that even while you're muzzled, even while he has complete control over you—he still can't stand having sex with you. Probably because he can't stand being in heat in general, you tell yourself. Don't touch me, don't touch me, don't use it anymore, don't use me anymore. He'd have this reaction to anyone.
Still—you didn't expect him to have this reaction to you.
Your hands twitch, possessed by an old instinct to cover your eyes. But you'd probably scare Aventurine if you moved your arms, so all you do is dig your fingers into the sheets and squeeze them shut. You tell yourself again and again that he'd hate having sex with anyone in these circumstances—not just you. And then you tell yourself, as a desperate, broken moan leaves his branded throat, that he would also come inside anyone in these circumstances, caught within the cruel grip of his heat.
Aventurine stills inside you as he finishes. He pants, sweat dripping down his temple as he shudders in his ecstasy, his spend hot and thick inside you. You can feel his fever break as he comes down from his high, the heat coming off his body easing into a manageable warmth.
Do you feel better, you try to say, but you can't move your mouth while your mask is on. So you wait patiently for Aventurine to come back to himself, watching him carefully as he pulls out and rolls onto the mattress beside you. He finally glances at you then. His eyes narrow once they land on you, confusion flicking through them. Then displeasure. He reaches for the remote.
To your surprise, he immediately punches in the code to unlock your muzzle. Aventurine has apparently remembered the numbers after all these years, as if the moment he freed you has been since seared into his memory.
“Are you okay?” is the first thing you say, and Aventurine gives you a confused look. He’s still panting, dazed, so you ask, “Can I check your temperature?” And when he nods, you confirm your suspicion: he's still much too warm.
There is an ache between your legs and a strange hollow in your gut (because you aren't very experienced with receiving, you think—your body likely just isn't used to the feeling of it), but you quickly forget them. All you can think of is Aventurine, and how he’s still unwell, and how you need to comfort him. The instinct is so strong that you don't even say anything as you get up, straightening out your clothes.
“Are you leaving?” Aventurine asks. His voice is neutral, completely unbothered, but the thought is so horrific to you that you turn back to him with wide eyes.
“Of course not. I'm going to get you water and medicine.” A beat. You stare at Aventurine’s eyes, then think about how he hid them from you during sex. The hollow feeling comes back, but it's mostly eclipsed by your anxiety at the next thought: “...do you want me to leave?”
“Do you want to?”
“I—” I'd rather die, you think. Being forced to leave him right now would feel like tearing out a piece of yourself. You don't know if there's an alpha in this world who could leave their mate in the middle of a heat. And even if he is unmarked, unattached to you—you still think of yourself as his mate. (His, always his, even if he doesn't want you.) “I would prefer not to. I am your heat partner. I'm supposed to take care of you.”
You hear a quiet breath. “Right. Of course. You're always so conscientious.” Aventurine nods, as if convincing himself of something. “Try not to take too long.”
“I’ll come back soon,” you promise, and the air sweetens. Encouraged, you add, voice gentle: “I’ll bring that medication, and then we can have sex as many times as you need after I come back. I'll make sure you're not in any pain anymore.” You pause, studying him. “Is there anything else you need to feel better?”
His fragrance changes once more, this time in a way you don't totally recognize. “No.” His voice sounds strange. His scent is still foreign, fluctuating, possibly hinting at some kind of pain. The heat must be getting to him again—and of course it wasn't enough, what you just did, what you can provide. He likely needs to be filled to get any kind of lasting relief, but you left him empty. “No, that's all I want.”
You nod, forcing yourself to look calm. Ignoring the emptiness in your gut. It didn't feel bad, but you hope it'll feel better next time you have sex. You think it will. Alphas are supposed to be filled with an insatiable lust near omegas in heat, after all. And even though you’ve never felt that before—never felt anything sleeping with all those omegas in your mistress’ house—you are sure you'll eventually feel it around Aventurine.
But the feeling never comes. Even though you can tell that his heat has returned by the time you're back—sweat beading his temples, laboured breaths at his lips, his bottoms now discarded, with full evidence of arousal between his legs—you don't feel much of anything as you reach for your mask again.
“Don't,” Aventurine says, before it can clasp around your face. You give him a curious look. He explains, “Don't. I don't want to have sex again. Not yet.”
You stare at him, shifting. Uncomfortable. Uncertain. Not knowing how he wants to use you. “What can I do?”
He gives you a long look. “Come here. I… I want your scent gland.”
It's a sensible request. If there's a way to seek relief without fucking someone—without fucking you, which he clearly hated doing—you're sure Aventurine would prefer it. So you climb into his nest, holding your wrist out for him, and—
“No.” His voice is quiet. “I want the one on your neck.”
“...oh.”
You stand there, not sure where to move. If he wants you in his nest again, or if he’d rather do this standing. You’re relieved when he demands, “Lie down.”
You expect him to get on top of you when you do. Assume that he wants complete control—but he instead lies down beside you. Presses his body into yours, and then his face into your neck. His nose and lips brush against your scent gland, a full-body shudder running through him, and—
—and now you know for a fact that it is a lie that alphas want nothing other than to fuck an omega when they're in heat. Because even like this, with his lips sweet on your neck, with the sheets soaked with his slick, with his spend leaking out of you—you do not want to have sex with Aventurine. You only want to hold him. You only want him to keep scenting you. You only want to scent him back.
You only want him to feel safe.
You breathe in deeply, lungs flooded by honey. You think of what it felt like to hold him in that cold basement, when he was delirious with fever and pain, and you think about how different his scent is now. How much sweeter it is. How much calmer he feels.
“Do you feel better?” you ask, and he doesn't respond, but you know the answer. His hands come up to dig into your shirt, and he presses into you like you're a sweater in his nest. Silence blankets over you both, calm and warm. His laboured breath starts to improve.
He does eventually speak.
“Has anyone ever told you,” he says, “what you smell like?”
You stare at him. Your master used to say that you smelled good, but he'd never elaborated, and you hadn't wanted him to. “No.”
Aventurine breathes in.
“You smell like—” A little sigh, shaking and feverish, leaves him. “You smell like rain.”
Your eyebrows tick up. “Rain?”
“Yes. Or not just rain, but”—he pauses, next words quiet—“more Iike after it rains. You smell like the desert after a rainfall.”
“Oh.” You don't know what to say to that. Feeling distinctly like it's a silly question, you ask, “Is that a good scent?”
“Some would think so. Especially to people from the desert. You probably smell like a blessing to them. Although…”
Aventurine goes quiet again. You stare at the chandelier above you, all crystal and white gold, and wait.
“Although?” you prompt.
“...although I wouldn't really know,” he says. “It’s just a hunch. I bet it's why so many omegas on this planet like you.”
You couldn't care less about those other omegas. All you care about is Aventurine. “And?” you say. “Do you like my scent?”
His reply never comes. He just breathes deeply again, seeking relief from your neck—not intimacy. Any alpha’s scent would work; that doctor told you so. Any alpha’s touch would work, too. There are no special feelings involved here. Your place in the world is one of a tool, and tools are never especially liked nor disliked. Their value exists only in how they can be used.
You don't know why you even bothered to ask the question.
But then something strange happens: Aventurine curls against you, pressing even further into you. His lashes flutter against your pulse again; it ticks up in response, beating fast against his lips.
“I do,” he says quietly. “I do like it.”
You swallow. “But I guess that's because you're in heat. Any alpha would smell good to you, wouldn’t they?”
“No.” His fingers dig into the fabric of your shirt. “No, I like it because it's yours.”
You know better than to read too much into his response. Aventurine had already said it earlier: No foreign scents. He's only tolerating this whole arrangement because you don't smell unfamiliar to him. Only able to use you because you are the least threatening option.
But the words break something in you—break the thing that made you unable to throw out that little pouch of copper coins that you were saving up for Kakavasha’s freedom, the part of you that made you wear that carbon-steel mask for him. It is this part of you that has your eyes squeezing shut and your arms wrapping around him. You know he’ll recoil, reject you, but just this once—you need to try.
Aventurine doesn't push you away.
He melts into you instead, inhaling deeply. Your scent gland tingles with the warmth of his breath, the feeling of his lips. He seems—comfortable.
You can't fathom why he’s staying in your arms. Perhaps he's simply desperate for some kind of relief from his heat, just like when you held him in the basement while he was delirious from pain. But Aventurine had spoken to you with clarity just now, and his skin doesn't feel scalding so much as warm, and his scent is so different than from that moment. So sweet and so gentle, without a trace of fear. It makes your heart squeeze. As much as you've always wanted Aventurine to feel safe, you'd never imagined that his scent would be so beautiful when he is.
It makes your heart ache. You've never held anything so lovely before, and you’ve never felt so warm before, and it all makes up for how badly it hurt to let Aventurine inside you. How hollow it made you feel to let him use you. How none of that matters as long as you can keep him safe like this, because you belong to Kakavasha. You'll always belong to Kakavasha, in a fate that was chosen for you on the day you met him.
You're his, always his—even if he’ll never want you.
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end part i
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thank you so much to lore for hosting a fantastic collab and to my sponsors who funded this fic and got it over the finish line! please go check out @ficsforgaza to find other amazing hsr writers you can sponsor in order to help fundraise! here is my own wip list, if you are interested in seeing more from me!
and thank you most of all to YOU! I appreciate you so much for reading this chapter. thank you so much for sticking it through.
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littlest-w01f · 8 months ago
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Naughty kitten
"Pet play" with:
Sylus x Reader
Kinktober 2024 Masterlist
Summary: Sending a pic of yourself laying in Sylus' bed half naked to him gets you in trouble when he gets home earlier than planned.
Cw: Pet play, kitten/master titles, fingering, sex toys, collars, anal play, d/s dynamics, subspace, Smut 18+ MDNI
a/n: fic on Ao3
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You knew you were playing with fire when Sylus had texted that he would be busy in a meeting and you had snuck into his home, already preparing for his return. But you couldn't help yourself, you did look cute, in your new white lace set, a headband of fluffy cat ears on your head, and a choker necklace.
With a swift movement, you pulled out your phone and snapped a picture of yourself lounging seductively on his bed. You giggled softly, your voice carrying an edge of excitement and desire. The bedroom was dimly lit, casting long shadows across the walls as you posed provocatively on the plush comforter. Your skimpy white lace lingerie left little to the imagination, the delicate fabric clinging to your curves. The fluffy cat ear headband added a playful touch, contrasting with the sultry choker.
As you snapped a photo, your full lips curled into a mischievous grin, revealing a hint of excitement beneath the surface, facing one of the many mirrors in his bedroom. The camera captured every detail, the way your breasts strained against the lace, the subtle dip of your waist to your hips that swayed enticingly in every pose. The soft muscles on you from training day and night.
You took plenty of photos, in different forms, showing each part of yourself, pulling the laces to the side to get a few bare despite the lingerie you wore, a few pulling on the choker you wore, it was too cat-like, something you had jokingly send Sylus a link of and he had brought for you. It was pink and white, fluffy, holding a round bell where it sat over your throat, making a jingling noise whenever you moved your head.
As you continued snapping photos, the bell on your choker jingled softly with each subtle movement, drawing attention to the provocative piece of jewellery adorning your slender neck. The fluffy material felt luxurious against your skin, adding a sensual texture to the overall visual feast you were presenting.
Your hands roamed over your body, adjusting to expose more cleavage, tugging at the hemline to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of smooth thighs. Each pose was more alluring than the last, your expressions ranging from coy and innocent to bold and seductive.
Sitting in his bed, you looked through the best, choosing one where your breasts were fully exposed to the mirror, the lace barely hanging on, your face like you didn't know what you were doing. And another an up-close pic of the choker. You smirked as you sent both of those to Sylus, a cheeky, "What do you think about these, master?" with a wink.
The moment you hit 'send', a rush of anticipation coursed through your veins, leaving your breath hitched and your heart pounding. The thrill of teasing Sylus this way, knowing how much he craved you, filled you with an intoxicating mix of fear and exhilaration.
In the quiet solitude of the room, you allowed yourself to indulge in the fantasy, your fingers tracing along the curves of your breasts, imagining his hands on them instead. The sensation was so intense, that you could almost swear you felt his touch, his gaze burning into your skin as he admired your chosen pictures.
Your phone vibrated with a notification, and you hurried to pick it up, it was a simple text, "Oh my wau!" You giggled slightly, at his misspelt words, and feeling triumphant you made him fumble, he then sent another, this time, correct spelling, "Stay like that."
It didn't take minutes, before there were red and black tendrils of energy in the room, Sylus' Evol, and you knew he was close. You reached for the tendrils and they grabbed you, flipping you on your hands and knees.
The room grew charged with the presence of Sylus's Evol, its ethereal tendrils wrapping around you like silken bands, lifting you effortlessly onto all fours. The position left you vulnerable, your ass elevated high, the thin lace of your panties no match for the predatory hunger in the air.
Sensing his approach, your heart pounded wildly in your chest, sending thrills straight to your core. Every nerve ending tingled with raw excitement, your entire being aching for the sight of him, craving his touch, his claim.
The sound of his footsteps echoed through the house, growing louder with each passing second until finally, he stood in the doorway. His gaze locked onto your body, fiery and possessive, his aura pulsating with lustful intent.
"Kitten couldn't keep to herself, could she?" He taunted, his energy holding your head down, ass up. With a swift move, his large hand connected to your exposed skin, "Hmm? Disturbing me while I'm working? Not smart, sweetie."
A sharp smack resounded through the room as his hand came crashing down on your ass, a perfect combination of sting and warmth seeping into your flesh. Your yelp was muffled by the firm hold on your head, pressing you against the pillow, leaving you utterly helpless under his control.
"You're such a bad girl," He murmured, leaning over your back to deliver another stinging blow, this time right above the curve of your ass. His laughter echoed around you, rough and amused, fueling the heat coiling within you. "But you look so adorable like this." He pulled playfully at your cat ears, pulling your head back, making the collar ring.
His hands roamed freely now, exploring every inch of your exposed skin, gripping, pinching, squeezing until you writhed beneath him, desperate for more. His fingers dipped beneath the elastic to tease your slick folds. "Let's see if you can handle the consequences of tempting me away from work."
"Mmmm, Master..." You moaned, pushing back into his hand, the movement making the bell on your neck ring louder, the sound almost hypnotic. "Please-"
"Aww, look at you, thinking you can get what you want, kitten," Sylus taunted, pulling his fingers away from your fluttering cunt.
His teasing fingers slipped away, leaving you panting and aching for more. The absence of his touch only served to heighten your need, your clit throbbing with unmet desire.
"You'll have to earn it," He whispered, his voice low and husky, a promise drenched in carnal intent. His hand returned to its previous spot, delivering a series of swift slaps that resonated through your whole body.
Each strike sent shockwaves of pleasure-pain coursing through your nerves, driving you closer to the brink. But still, he denied you, withholding the satisfaction you so desperately craved.
You moaned loudly, tears lining your eyes. Sylus caught your reflection in a mirror, a fake pout on his lips, "Oh, is this not what you planned, sweetie?"
Watching himself in the mirror, Sylus's expression softened, a rare glimpse of tenderness flickering across his features. He leaned down, pressing his lips to the small of your back, whispering words of encouragement meant to soothe the ache in your body.
"But don't worry, kitten," He assured, his hot breath tickling your sensitive skin. "I'll make sure you enjoy every consequence." His hands resumed their exploration, fingers sliding between your slick folds once again, teasing the entrance of your dripping cunt. He circled your swollen clit with expert precision, coaxing moans and whimpers from your parted lips.
"I want-" You rasped out, buckling your hips against his hand, lost in the pleasure of his hand. Head spinning.
"Want who, kitten?" Sylus taunted.
"You, Master." You whined.
Sylus's chuckle rumbled against your back as he increased the pace of his ministrations, fingers delving deeper into your clenching heat. Each thrust sent sparks of ecstasy racing up your spine, your inner walls quivering around his fingers.
"Yes, you do," He purred, nipping at the tender flesh of your shoulder blade. "And I'm going to give you exactly what you need."
With a deft twist of his wrist, he curled his fingers inside you, stroking that secret spot that made stars explode behind your eyelids. Your climax built rapidly, coiled tight and ready to unleash, until suddenly, he pulled away, leaving you empty and gasping.
"No coming yet, kitten," Sylus commanded, his voice a low growl. "We're just getting started."
You nodded, staying still, you turned your head to see him rummaging through a chest, "What are you looking for, Master?"
"Nothing you need to worry your fluffy head about, kitten," He simply said, his back facing you. While he was turned away from you, you used that time to salivate over his body, eyes going over his silver hair, broad shoulders, his back flexing and relaxing, the curve of his ass, his thick thighs, you swallowed hard.
Feeling your gaze upon him, Sylus paused in his search, a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He glanced back at you over his shoulder, catching your lust-filled stare, his crimson eyes filled with the same desire. The intensity in your eyes sent a surge of pride through his veins, bolstering his already rampant desire.
"Just enjoying the view, kitten?" He teased, turning back to his task, his movements deliberate and purposeful. He withdrew something long and glistening from the depths of the chest, a dildo, crafted to mimic his own sizeable cock. It was clear from his smirk that he intended to fill you up with it, just as he did with his real one. Returning to you, he approached slowly, the dildo dangling between his fingers. "Ready for your punishment, kitten?"
Your throat was suddenly dry at the sight, you nodded, knowing this was going to hurt. Sylus approached you, not bothering to remove your lingerie, he just pushed it to the side, smiling gleefully at the sight of your dripping cunt.
With a wicked glint in his eye, Sylus pressed closer, the cold touch of the dildo brushing against your heated skin. He traced the tip along your slit, teasing the entrance of your cunt without entering, relishing the way your body arched into the touch.
"Good, kitten." He breathed out, aligning the toy with your eager cunt. With a single, fluid motion, he thrust the dildo into you, filling you to the brim. A strangled cry escaped your lips as the stretch enveloped you, the sensation overwhelming.
You tried to struggle away but Sylus's hands gripped your hips firmly, anchoring you in place as he began to set a punishing rhythm, each thrust meeting your resistance with a grunt of exertion.
Your screams echoed off the walls as Sylus drove the dildo deep, the rigid toy stretching your insides to their limits. Tears streamed down your face, mingling with the sweat beading on your brow, but despite the pain, a twisted sense of pleasure pulsed through your body as you ground back.
Each brutal thrust rubbed against that sensitive spot within, the pressure building with every stroke. Your nails dug into the bed, trying to find purchase as he fucked you mercilessly, the dildo scraping against your cervix with each harsh pump.
"Take it, kitten," Sylus growled, his voice raw with lust. "This is what happens when you disturb my work. You wanted attention, now you've got it." He leaned over your back, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered.
All sense had left you, an ach in your stomach as your cunt tried its best to stretch to the size of the dildo, the jingle of the bell was a sharp sound that kept ringing in the room, moans and groans leaving your lips.
Sylus slammed the toy inside you as deep as it could go, fumbling with the base of it for a moment, it started to vibrate, making you fall flat on the bed, "Now purr for me, kitten."
The vibrations coursing through the dildo intensified, sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your core. Your toes curled, your legs trembling as the sensations threatened to overwhelm you entirely. Yet even as your body shook, Sylus continued his relentless assault, the toy plunging into your depths with ruthless efficiency.
"I said purr for me," he demanded once more, punctuating his words with a particularly brutal thrust. The command hung heavy in the air, a challenge thrown down before you. And despite the haze of pain and pleasure clouding your mind, you knew you had no choice but to obey.
"M-Master-" A broken mewl escaped your lips, morphing into a desperate, keening wail as the vibrations pushed you closer to the edge. Your inner muscles clenched around the invading toy, drawing it deeper, seeking more of that delicious friction.
He left the dildo buried inside you, vibrating on the torturous setting that had you seeing stars, "See, that was easy," He taunted.
You felt his hands grip at your lace, ripping it off your body, you weren't in the right mind to care how much you loved the pair. His hands explored your body.
Sylus's hands roamed your curves possessively, pinching and kneading your breasts as if they were his personal playthings. He rolled your nipples between his fingers, twisting them just shy of pain, drawing a ragged gasp from your lips.
His other hand slid down to cup your ass, squeezing the supple flesh roughly. Leaning in close, he nipped at your earlobe, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "You look so pretty like this, all spread out and helpless," he murmured, his voice a low, seductive purr. "Just waiting for me to use you however I please." As if to illustrate his point, he reached down and adjusted the vibrator's speed, increasing the intensity to a maddening buzz.
You cry loudly, thrusting your hips in the air, as if trying to push the dildo out, but every time it got even a little out of your drooling cunt, Sylus pushed it back in.
"Cum for me, kitten," He commanded, The words were barely out of Sylus's mouth before your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, your cunt spasming around the dildo as waves of intense pleasure ripped through your body, drenching the sheets in your release. Your cries filled the room, echoing off the walls, a symphony of pure, unadulterated pleasure.
Your entire being focused on the sensation, on the throbbing pulse of the dildo as it drove you further toward obliviation. But Sylus wasn't done with you yet. As your climax subsided, he slowed the thrusts, giving you just enough reprieve to catch your breath before starting the cycle again. Making sure you cum over and over again on the toy, drenching the sheets.
Your thighs trembled as you barely felt a cool gel spread over your ass, his finger pushing in through the tight rings of muscles. Sylus's fingers probed at your tight rear entrance, slick with lube, coaxing the resistant ring of muscle to relax and accept his intrusion. Slowly, inch by inch, he worked a digit past the initial barrier, sinking knuckle-deep into your ass.
"Shh, just breathe," He crooned, his free hand rubbing soothing circles on your lower back, he knew your body better than you did, knew the way you curved when you needed comfort. "You're doing so well, taking me so nicely. Such a good kitten."
He scissored his fingers, stretching you gently, preparing you for what was to come. Once he deemed you ready, he added a third finger, pumping them in tandem with the dildo still lodged in your dripping cunt, a faint stretch of muscle separating the two.
The dual stimulation of the dildo and his fingers sent another ripple of pleasure through your already sensitized nerves. Your body twitched under his ministrations, your body writhing against the bed as he stretched and teased your most forbidden entrance.
Despite the discomfort, there was something undeniably erotic about the feeling of him exploring both your holes. And here you were, spread wide open for Sylus, willingly submitting to his every whim.
"Fuck... Yes..." you moaned, trying to find your voice, unable to contain yourself anymore. The combination of pleasure and pain was intoxicating, driving you closer to the brink once more. "Master please-"
You tensed up instinctively as you felt the blunt head of Sylus's cock pressing insistently against your ass. The knowledge of what was to come sent a shiver of trepidation down your spine, even as your body thrummed with anticipation.
"Relax, kitten," Sylus murmured, his voice a low rumble in your ear. "Breathe through it. Let me in."
With a slow, steady pressure, he began to ease himself into you, the thick girth of his shaft parting you with a burning stretch. Your hands fisted in the sheets, your teeth gritted against the overwhelming sensation of fullness as he sank deeper and deeper into your willing body.
By the time he was fully sheathed, you were panting, your skin slick with sweat. He stayed still, letting you get used to both the stretches in your cunt and ass, hands curling around the back of yours to pin you down, kissing your shoulders to soothe you.
His hands caressed yours, trailing up your arm as he playfully but your fluffy ears while looking into your eyes in the mirror, guiding you back onto him. With a firm grip, he began to move, pulling you back onto his cock with each deliberate thrust, each one sharper as if trying to get the choker ringing louder.
The sound of the choker's bell rang out in time with his pace, a lewd melody that only served to heighten your arousal. The dual penetration was exquisite torture, your stretched cunt and ass clenching rhythmically around their respective invaders. Each movement made the dildo hit your cervix while it continued to vibrate within you, sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating outward.
Your drool dripped freely from your slackened jaw, pooling on the pillow beneath your head. You were utterly lost to the sensations, your mind foggy with lust as you surrendered completely to Sylus's dominance, you let go of any control of yourself, floating in a limbo-like state, brain mushy.
Sylus kept up his punishing pace, hands wrapping around your waist in comfort as he noticed you falling into subspace, trusting him so fully, his hands tightening in yours as he drove deeper but softer into your willing body. The sounds of wet slapping echoed through the room, along with your choked whimpers and mewls. Every thrust seemed to strike a new chord of pleasure within you, building an inferno of desire that threatened to consume you whole.
Your cunt and ass clenched rhythmically around his cock and the dildo, squeezing them both for all they were worth. The vibration of the toy combined with the harsh friction of his cock in your ass sent sparks flying behind your eyelids. You could feel your climax approaching like a freight train, you knew you had already cum plenty of time in your haze, from the vibrations, you couldn't remember when, but you wanted more, and craved it desperately.
Sylus could sense your impending orgasm, the way your body tightened and quivered beneath him. He leaned down, his chest pressed flush against your back, his hips never faltering in their relentless rhythm.
"That's it, my little kitten," He growled in your ear, his voice rough with exertion and lust. "Cum for me again."
With those words, he reached around and pressed his thumb firmly against your clit, rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves in tight, fast circles. The added stimulation was all it took to send you hurtling over the edge, your vision whiting out as ecstasy consumed you.
As your screams crescendoed, pushing the dildo out of your cunt from the force of your release, Sylus finally succumbed to his own desires, his climax hitting him like a sledgehammer. His cock jutted inside you, pulsing hot jets of cum deep into your abused hole. He grunted, his body tensing as he emptied himself into you, marking you internally as his own.
The feeling of being filled so thoroughly, of having his seed flooding your insides, brought you back to reality slowly. The afterglow of the orgasm washed over you, making your limbs heavy and your mind blissfully empty. You panted softly, your body limp beneath him, a satisfied smile curling your lips despite the exhaustion that threatened to claim you.
Sylus smiled down at you, his breathing heavy, "Is this what you wanted?" Sylus grinned, leaning down to kiss your neck softly, his movements now tender rather than demanding.
All you could do was give a little nod. He gathered you close, wrapping his arms around you in a protective embrace. The warmth of his body enveloped you, providing a comforting contrast to the lingering chill of post-orgasmic bliss.
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{LaDs Kinktober Taglist: @m00nchildwrites}
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darkwitchoferie · 2 months ago
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New Year's Consequences
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Summary: Your best friend, Jeongin, got very drunk and left a rambling voice note confessing to certain feelings he has for you. While listening to the message several times over, you hurry to his and Chan’s apartment.
Cw/tw: drunk confession, unprotected piv, face-sitting, face-fucking, cum swallowing, a little dom!IN, pussy slapping, pet names (baby, sweet girl), aftercare fluff
Wc: 6k
This fic is part of a series of unconnected best friends to lovers fics, the others of which can be found on my master list.
You groaned, rolling over as you woke up. It was Saturday morning and you didn’t want to be awake yet. Reaching for your phone to check the time, you saw you had a voice note from your best friend Jeongin.
“’Member tha uh… party. With th’ tree and th’ coun’ing and th’ lights? ‘Member you kissed me? Love tha’ kiss. Can stop thinkin’ ‘bout it. Wish it woulda been longer. Wish you stay th’ nigh’ with me. Wish you stay ALL th’ nigh’s with me. You smell good, li’e all th’ time. How come? Bed’s empty, tha’s sad. Y/nnie!! Oh hi, Channie-hyung. Leavin’ message for Y/nnie. Wha’ you mean? Nu-uh. Love Y/nnie, gotta tell ‘er. Only a lil drunk, ‘s o –”
The message abruptly cut off. You stared at your phone and the time stamp that message was sent to you – 3:17 am. Then you hit play and listened to it again. Maybe it was silly to be giddy over a drunk confession but you were, squealing and kicking your feet. After all, drunk actions were sober thoughts, or whatever the saying was.
You tossed your blanket off, rushing to get dressed. You hesitated in front of your closet for a moment, it was cold, but you wanted to look cute. Besides, you were only going to be outside for a couple minutes at most. You pulled on a knee-length skirt Jeongin had bought for you a couple of years previously, pairing it with the new cable knit sweater you’d gotten yourself. While you dressed and did you hair, you played Jeongin’s voice note over and over.
In you car, your phone automatically hooked into the Bluetooth, like always, so you were hearing his voice note through much better speakers. You remembered the New Year’s party he was talking about. It had been a New Year’s kiss, as soon as the clock struck midnight. You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it either. How soft his lips were, the way he’d gently cradled your head in one hand, the other pressing against your lower back, how it was over far too soon for your liking.
You reached Chan and Jeongin’s apartment in record time. You hurried to the main door, only regretting the skirt for a moment when the wind blew. You paced anxious circles in the elevator. Now that you were here, you wondered if maybe you should have waited until later in the day or just called him. It was too late to turn back now though, you were here and you were going to see this through.
Chan answered the door when you knocked, took one look at your face and as soon as the door was closed behind you, said, “You listened to it.”
“I did,” you beamed at him.
“Good,” Chan smiled at you. “He’s not awake yet. Don’t do anything dumb. I’ll be out for the day,” he pressed a soft kiss to the side of your head, just above your ear, as he passed by.
Hearing that he wasn’t awake yet, and knowing how drunk he’d likely been the night before and therefore how hungover he was likely to be this morning, you made your way to their kitchen. You made a few slices of peanut butter toast, knowing it was one of the options he would eat even if it got cold, and grabbed a coconut water. Then made yourself a quick smoothie since you hadn’t had breakfast before you ran out of your apartment.
Once in his room, you just watched him sleep for a few minutes. You sighed quietly – your best friend was gorgeous, there was no denying it. Even passed out, he looked adorable. You set the food on his night stand and climbed onto his bed, settling in to wait until he woke up. You were quietly scrolling your Tiktok feed, enjoying the thirst edits of the sleeping man beside you, when you felt Jeongin start to stir.
You looked over at him as he blearily blinked his eyes open. “Y/nnie?” His sleep-deepened voice rasped out. “What’re…?”
“Here, drink this.”
“No drinks,” he protested quietly.
“It’s coconut water. Drink, then I made toast.” He did as you instructed, slowly.
“Eugh, I reek,” he commented after downing the last of the water.
“You smell like whiskey,” you agreed easily.
“Eugh.” After another moment, he rolled out of bed and headed to the bathroom. After several minutes, you heard the shower turn on and settled back into his bed with your phone.
Quite a while later, Jeongin, hair messy and damp and clad only in a pair of loose pants, bounced onto his bed beside you. “Now that I feel human again, what’s the early morning occasion, bestie?”
“I’ve always hated how easily you get over a hangover,” you commented, turning to smile at him. “How drunk were you last night? Like, do you remember everything?”
“Oh God, I did something embarrassing didn’t I? Is that why you’re here? The boys called you ‘cause the Maknae was embarrassing himself?”
“No,” you laughed, interrupting him. It was a fair assumption though – the other members had called you for exactly that reason more than a few times. “You called me. Or rather, you left me a voice note. Here, listen.” With a couple quick taps, you played the voice note you’d already listened to so many times this morning.
You expected some worry, some nerves at how you’d react. What you did not expect was for Jeongin to try to get out of bed and run from you. Thankfully, you were able to keep him in place. Despite being significantly stronger than you, he never wanted to accidentally hurt anyone so he held back and let you push him around.
You tossed a leg over his waist, settling yourself comfortably on his abs. Then you realized your mistake. The only thing separating his drool-worthy abs from your pussy, was your underwear, your skirt having flared out a bit. You did your best to ignore this fact, needing to focus, but still, you felt yourself getting wet against the heat of his abs. The fact that you were already turned on from being beside Jeongin and the thirst edits you’d watched also didn’t help your situation.
“You drunkenly confess and then try to run away? So, it’s safe to assume you meant it then? Because if you didn’t, you wouldn’t have run. You’d have denied, or joked.” You didn’t bother suppressing your grin.
“Can we end the teasing early, please. Really not how I want my day to go.” He turned his head, not looking at you.
“You idiot,” you rolled your eyes at him. “Why do you think I left Busan the second I could to follow you here? I could’ve stayed behind for Eun-Ji, ya know, my other best friend? But I didn’t. Because I’m not in love with her.”
“But…,” his brow furrowed in confusion, looking at you out of the corner of his eyes, “you moved here almost five years ago.”
“You’re adorable when you’re confused.”
He wiggled in place under you and you had to bite the side of your tongue to hold in the moan that movement elicited. Finally, he turned to face you completely. “I don…. You’ve been in love with me for five years?”
“More than. I don’t actually know how long,” you shrugged. “It’s why no one back home was surprised I followed you out here.”
His hands, which had been fisted in his sheets like he was trying not to touch you, came up to tentatively smooth over your thighs, over your skirt, and gently grasp your hips. You saw the look on his face shift from a little confused still to curious as his grip settled you more firmly against his abs.
“Hold on, are you…?” he shifted again and you pressed your lips together to hold in another moan. “You are.” His eyes lit up. “You’re wet, Y/nnie. Do you like sitting on me that much?” The familiar sly smile graced his face as he further tightened his grip on your hips, deliberately pulling you more firmly against himself.
“Now is not the time, Innie. We’re having a discussion.” You attempted to remain serious, even as you rolled your hips against him, pulling a low moan from your own throat at the friction that move provided.
“You’re absolutely right,” his smile didn’t dim at all. “You were saying no one back home was surprised you followed me?”
“Of course they weren’t.” He held tight to your hips, rocking you against his abs again.
“Why not?” he asked, when you didn’t go on.
“They all knoh that I’ve been in love with you for years.” You braced a hand on his chest, as he kept up a steady, firm pace, rolling you against his abs. “God, why’s that feel so good?”
He slid his hands down off your hips, then up under your skirt, to grip your bare hips. “Does it, Y/nnie?” He shifted your hips, shifting the way your clit rubbed against his abs, and pulling another moan from you. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He smirked. “Why didn’t you ever say? That you love me?”
“Why didn’t – ah – you?” You countered, voice breathy. You were more than a little surprised at just how good it felt to be rubbing against Jeongin’s abs.
“Nerves,” he answered simply. “I say something and I risk losing my best friend. But if I’d known it would get me this – you humping yourself on my abs like you’re in heat,” he gave you that sly smile again, the tip of his tongue sliding out. You pinched him where your hand was braced on his chest, pulling a chuckle from him.
“Same though,” you answered finally, working to control your breathing. He nodded before stopping your hip movement and smirking at the whine that pulled from you. His hand slid over and shifted your panties to the side. “Oh god,” you moaned, feeling him against your bare pussy.
“Yeah, bet that feels better instead of your soaked panties, huh baby?” he teased. You glared, but it didn’t stop you from rolling your hips again. He flipped the front of your skirt up, holding it up with his hands on your hips. “Mm, such a cute pussy, baby. Can’t wait to feel you on my cock.”
You whimpered, not only at his words and the image they provided, but at the feeling of your orgasm building up in your belly. “I swear, if you make me cum before you kiss me –” Your threat was cut off as he tangled one hand in the front of your sweater and pulled you down to him. You barely caught yourself in time to stop from crashing face first into him, but it was totally worth it when you felt his lips on yours for the first time. You moaned into his mouth as he tilted his own head to deepen the kiss, your hand gripping his shoulder tighter and your hips speeding up.
“C’mon baby,” he pushed up on your chest, moving you just far enough that he could talk. “You gonna cum for me? Make a mess on my abs?” You whimpered, the hand still on your hip, pulling you tighter against him. Laying on him like this, you got more direct stimulation to your clit and it was doing wonders toward building your orgasm. Then he flexed, giving you harder muscles to rub against. “Yeah, you are. Look at you, baby. So pretty, falling apart on me.”
His words were doing as much for you as the stimulation on your clit. You ground down on his abs a handful more times before finally that coil in your belly snapped and you came, shuddering above him.
“Good girl,” Jeongin wrapped both arms around you, tugging you down against his chest and running a soothing hand over your back. “God baby, you look so good when you cum. Knew you would, knew you’d be gorgeous falling apart for me.” He pressed soft kisses against the side of your head and face that he could reach. You lay against him, delighting in his closeness as you got your breathing under control. “Baby?” he asked, once your breathing was back to normal.
“Hm?”
“You good to keep going, or no?”
“Why would I stop now?” you demanded, sitting back up, still straddling him.
He offered a small smile and said, “I’ve been with two girls who had fairly long recovery periods and didn’t want to be touched after an orgasm.”
“Mm.” You did not like the thought of him having sex with other people. You knew he had, objectively. But you didn’t want to think of it.
Clearly he caught something in your eyes or face that let him know what you were feeling, probably thanks to knowing each other for so long. His small smile widened into a teasing smirk. “Are you jealous, baby?”
“No,” you insisted. “They’re not the ones who just came on your abs. Their loss,” you shrugged.
“Mm-hm. And don’t you forget it.” You leaned back over him, capturing his lips in a heated kiss. Arms still around you, Jeongin sat up, causing you to shift so that you were in his lap instead of on his abs now. You broke the kiss, head lolling back as you moaned at the feeling of his hard cock under you. The way your underwear was shoved to the side was starting to get uncomfortable but, with the way he felt under you and with the way he was kissing and licking your neck, you could not have cared less.
You gasped, hand flying to his hair, as he harshly sucked a hickey into the side of your neck, then whimpered, pussy clenching when he shifted slightly to bite down where your neck and shoulder met. He pulled away again to capture your lips, his tongue sliding past your lips and over yours. You ground down against his cock, smirking when he pulled away from your mouth with a groan.
“Shirt off, baby. Lemme see those pretty tits,” his hands slid up under the hem of your sweater. You quickly tugged it off, tossing it off the side of his bed, quickly followed by your bra. “Gorgeous,” his hands slid up, cupping each breast. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to one nipple before his tongue darted out, kitten licking the same nipple. His other hand gently squeezed your tit, fingers quickly shifting to play with that nipple. His eyes stayed focused on your face, watching every reaction.
You buried a hand in his hair, holding him against you, even as you rolled your hips against the bulge in his sweats. He switched his mouth to the other boob, sucking your nipple into his mouth. He gently suckled on you as the fingers on his other hand rolled and tugged on your other nipple, pulling soft moans from between your lips.
He released your nipple with a soft ‘pop’ then dropped to lay back on his bed. “Come up here,” he tugged your hips, dragging you up his body. “Need you to sit on my face.” You lifted, about to get off of him so you could at least take your panties off, when he took the opportunity to reach between your thighs. You thought maybe he was going to push his fingers into you – a very welcome intrusion. Instead, he tore the crotch of your panties.
“Jeongin!”
“What? They were already ruined with how wet you got them.”
“Shut up,” you flushed.
“Make me,” he grinned slyly up at you, his tongue flicking out over his bottom lip. You narrowed your eyes at him, aware that his words were more dare than teasing. You crawled up the rest of his body, kneeling on either side of his face and felt him chuckle just as you sat on his mouth. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, holding you to him, tongue lapping at your wet folds, your ruined underwear laying against his chin and nose. You quickly tucked your skirt into it’s waist band so you could look down and see his face.
“Oh god, Innie,” you groaned, one hand bracing against his headboard, the other coming down to tangle in his hair. He hummed against you, vibrations shooting straight into you. Your hips moved without your conscious decision, rubbing yourself against him as he alternated his tongue, licking your clit one second, then fucking up into your cunt the next. He wrapped his lips around your clit, gently sucking it into his mouth and batting it around with his tongue, before quickly shifting to fuck his tongue up into your hole again.
His hands slid from your hips, coming up to fondle your tits. You lost yourself in the pleasure of his mouth and his hands. His lips and tongue seemed to be on every centimeter of your pussy constantly, licking, kissing, and sucking your flesh while he swallowed down every bit of arousal flowing from you. You rolled your hips, humping yourself against his face, broken moans falling from your lips constantly.
His fingers teased your nipples, plucking, pinching, and rolling the sensitive nubs between his fingertips, before his hands shifted to squeeze your tits. He gently squeezed both mounds of flesh, pressing them together and flicking his thumbs over your hardened nipples. Your grip on his hair tightened as you clenched against his tongue. He moaned against you, shifting to wrap his lips around your clit.
He suckled the little bundle of nerves into his mouth, pressing his tongue firmly against it, then flicking it with the tip of his tongue. “Close,” you moaned out. He didn’t change his actions, continuing to flick your clit with his tongue and very soon after, you were cumming, back arching and gushing on his face. You sagged forward, forehead pressed against the top of his headboard as you came down from your high. Below you, Jeongin lapped up your release.
You felt him wipe his face on your skirt then let out a surprised yelp when he yanked you down onto the bed beside him. “You’re delicious,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.
“Always knew that tongue would be amazing,” you replied. He laughed, bright and loud. “Mm,” your hand smoothed down his chest, coming to rest on the prominent bulge in his loose sweats. “Need you in my mouth Innie,” you said, gently squeezing his dick.
He groaned. “Wanna suck me off, baby?”
“Nope. Want you to fuck my mouth.” You tipped your head back to look up at him, blinking up at him as innocently as you could with your hand still fondling his cock through his pants. “Will you, pretty please?”
He groaned again, eyes rolling back, before leaning down to capture your lips in a hard, possessive kiss. You moaned at the taste of yourself on his tongue when he pushed it into your mouth. He broke the kiss, rolling away from you and off the bed. You watched as he stood up and shucked off his sweats – no underwear under them. You moaned, watching his hard cock bob when he pulled his pants down.
“Come here, baby,” he held out his hand to you, cocky grin on his face. You shifted over to him, pulling off your skirt and destroyed panties, and tossing them toward where you sweater and bra had landed, as you did. Jeongin leaned down, claiming your lips in a hard, possessive kiss before manhandling you into the position he wanted you in. He laid you on your back, legs relaxed, hands on your thighs, head dangling over the edge of the bed. “Ready?” he asked, gripping the base of his cock.
“Please,” you responded, dropping your jaw and holding your tongue out over your bottom teeth.
He was gentle, shallow, on the first motion. He slid just the head of his cock against your tongue, letting you taste the precum beading on his slit. With each roll of his hips, he pushed a little more of his cock into your waiting mouth. You were torn – on the one hand, he was being sweet and caring, letting you adjust and figure out how much of his cock would fit in your mouth; on the other, you really just wanted him to do as you’d asked and fuck your mouth.
You struggled a little, gagging lightly, before he was all the way in your mouth, but you still whined when he quickly pulled out. He looked down at you, head tilted to the side as though in question. Then he took the hand that had been around the base of his cock and placed it on your throat. He didn’t apply any pressure, just held his hand there almost as if holding you still. You moaned as he pushed his cock back in your mouth, this time completely bottoming out until you gagged around his head. He held there for a few seconds before pulling back and asking, “Okay?”
“Please,” you pleaded, voice already breathy.
He grinned again. Keeping that hand still on your neck, he built up a steady rhythm, fucking his cock into your more-than-willing mouth. You moaned around his length, fingers curling and scratching your own thighs.
You could feel yourself getting wetter again and some distant part of your mind wondered if it was healthy to still be this turned on after you’d already cum twice. Mostly though, you didn’t have the brain space to really think about it. You could feel your mind going a little hazy, like it did when you had a partner you could trust to take care of you while he used you.
Without conscious decision, one of your hands slid off your thigh to your soaked pussy. You ran two fingers along your slit, gathering your own wetness, before pressing those fingers against your clit, your hips lifting slightly to seek the relief your fingers were bringing.
Jeongin batted your hand away from your clit, then landed a quick smack to your pussy lips. He pulled out of your mouth, using the hand that had been against your throat to tip your head so he could look you in the eyes. “That pussy is mine to play with, understand?” You whimpered, even as you nodded. “Good,” he replied, landing one more quick slap on your pussy before thrusting back into your waiting mouth.
You tried to close your legs, hoping for that relief at least, but he pushed your thighs apart, slapping you again. You clenched around nothing as you moaned around his length. Understanding what he wanted, you spread your thighs further apart, bending your knees and planting your feet flat on his bed.
“Good girl,” he groaned out. The praise sent a shiver of lust down your spine and you rolled your hips, seeking some sort of friction you knew wasn’t there. He kept up his steady pace in your mouth, unconcerned about the drool spilling over your cheeks and into your hair. The hand on your neck tightened briefly and you moaned. “Yeah, sweet girl? Do you like letting me use you?” You moaned in response, pulling an echoing groan from him.
“So good to me, Y/nnie, letting me use your pretty mouth.” His praises came out breathier as he kept going, punctuated with his own moans. “Look so pretty in my bed. Gonna let me fuck that gorgeous cunt too? Make a mess of your sloppy cunt, hm?”
You had gripped the blanket below you to resist the urge to reach for your pussy. Part of you wondered if he’d slap your pussy again if you did – and wanted him to. But there was a little niggle that maybe he’d stop fucking your mouth and you really wanted him to come down your throat, so you resisted. Your grip on the blanket tightened as his hips sped up, causing a little gag with every thrust. Your pussy clenched as you thought about him fucking your pussy like he was fucking your mouth.
“Gonna cum, Y/nnie. Where, baby?” Your hand flew to his hips, as if you could hold him in your mouth. You sucked him, as best as you could given the way your head was tilted. He groaned and you felt his cock twitch in your mouth seconds before he stilled and you tasted his hot cum flooding your mouth. He pulled out quickly, tilting your head back up so it was easier for you to swallow. Your tongue darted out, catching the little bit that had spilled onto your upper lip. “God, baby,” he groaned out, watching you.
He grabbed your hips, pushing a bit so you were fully on the bed again. Then he bent over you, forehead resting on your belly as he tried to catch his breath. You carded your fingers through his messy, sweat-dampened hair, working to catch your own breath even as you tipped your head slightly back to kitten lick the head of his still-hard cock. The broken moan that came from him at your actions, spurred you to keep going.
Abruptly, he stood straight up and stared down at you. “You’re going to be the death of me, woman.” You grinned happily up at him. He reached for your hips again, manhandling you to spin you around. He brought your hips to the edge of his bed, hooking his hands under your knees to keep your thighs spread, legs in the air, and thrust into you with one smooth stroke.
“Oh god,” you moaned out, hands flying to tightly grip his arms.
“Yeah?” he offered his sweetest smile, the kind that usually melted your insides but this time, set them aflame. He leaned over you, spreading your thighs as wide as possible, to claim your lips in a sweet kiss. He pulled away from your lips to say, “You’re so wet baby. Did you really enjoy that, that much?”
“Mm-hm,” you nodded, smoothing your hand up one of his arms and coming up to wrap around the back of his neck. “Trust you, like it when you use me,” you said simply, struggling for a moment to find words.
He seemed to notice your struggle because the sweet look in his eyes shifted, turning darker, but he didn’t actually say anything. Instead, he pulled back, pulling nearly all the way out of you, before slamming back in again, as hard as the angle he was at would allow him to. Though you didn’t see it, he grinned at the way your eyes rolled back in your head. He shifted back, standing fully upright and keeping your thighs spread, then set a fast, punishing pace.
He looked down at where you were connected, groaning as he watched his cock disappear into you. “Feel so good, sweet girl. Pussy’s so wet and warm. Take me so well,” he moaned out between thrusts. You had a bit of trouble hearing him over the nearly constant moans he was pulling from you. Already being on the edge from the way he’d used your mouth, your orgasm was building quickly and he could feel it in the way you clenched around him. “Feeling good, baby? You gonna cum on my cock like a good girl?”
You moaned in response, long and deep in your chest, nodding your head though it felt difficult to do, like you’d just woken up. Jeongin let go of both of your legs, reaching down with one hand to wrap around the back of your neck and tug you up closer to him. Meeting you halfway, he leaned down to claim your lips in a sloppy, barely-a-kiss, kiss. You couldn’t seem to get your lips to cooperate with you, so you mostly just moaned against his lips. Not that he seemed to mind. His other hand slipped between your bodies, his thumb coming to rub quick, firm circles against your clit.
With just a few more hard thrusts, you came apart, back arching, head lolling back, as your orgasm crashed though you. Jeongin’s thrusts slowed, but didn’t stop, as he fucked you through your high. He laid you back on the bed, following so he was bent over you. He pressed his face between your tits, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your chest before twisting to take one of your nipples between his lips. You whimpered as he sucked the bud into his mouth, tongue flicking over it.
Your legs wrapped around his waist as he continued the slow roll of his hips, one hand coming up to tangle in his hair as he continued to suck on your tit. You relished the slow drag of his cock in your sensitive cunt, whimpering with each roll of his hips, but the part of your mind that was still present, wanted to feel him cum in you, wanted to feel him fill you up. To get him to speed up, you deliberately clenched around him.
You felt the huff of his chuckle against your wet nipple as he pulled away. “Ready for more, sweet girl?” You nodded, tightening your legs around his hips. “Gonna make a mess of this pussy, just like I said. Gonna let me cum in you, let me ruin you?”
“Yes,” you forced the word out, voice breathy and barely loud enough to be heard. This time you saw his wicked grin.
Instead of fucking you harder, like you’d thought he would, he pulled out completely. You whined, kicking your legs in protest. He grabbed one of your legs, stopping your kicks as he pressed a kiss to the side of your ankle. “I know, poor baby.” Any sympathy in his voice was wrecked by the wicked grin still on his face. “Relax, sweet girl. Just wanna move you.”
You let him manhandle you to the new position he wanted. He moved you properly up on his bed, laying flat, face down against the pillow he’d been sleeping on, grabbing the other and stuffing it under your hips. He kept your thighs pressed together, but canted your hips up slightly. You felt him shift around behind you, looking back as best as you could from the angle you were at, watching him bracket your thighs with his own. You watched him grab the base of his cock and press against your cunt. You should’ve been, but weren’t prepared for the force of his thrust as he slid back into you. You slid up against his pillow with the force of his thrust, groaning at the feeling of being full again.
He gripped your hips, quickly finding his former, hard pace. You, of course, couldn’t see it, but Jeongin’s gaze was locked on your fucked-out face, watching the way your eyes had rolled back and the drool that was already steadily seeping onto his pillow. He couldn’t bring himself to care that he’d definitely have to do laundry today. His grip on your hips tightened as he fucked you harder, delighting in every strangled moan he pulled from your throat.
He dropped forward, catching himself with a hand on either side of your head. He hovered over you, caging you against his bed, close enough to feel the heat from his skin, but not close enough to touch. You canted your hips back, changing the angle enough to pull him deeper into you. You whined at the way his cock rubbed against every sensitive spot in your cunt.
“Yeah, baby? Does that feel good?” You couldn’t find words to answer, just whimpers and trying to move your hips against him. “Mm, I always wondered what you’d be like with my cock in you,” his voice was breathy but still teasing. “And look at you, completely cock-drunk.” He rocked his hips, pulling a whine from you when he went deeper into you. He pressed open-mouthed kisses to the side of your face and lips, your neck and shoulder, between muttered praises. “Feel so good on my cock, baby. Take me so well, like you were made for me. Can’t believe we wasted so much time. Shoulda told you I love you forever ago. Gonna make up for it now, love you good. Love you forever.”
You whined and whimpered under him, too far gone to truly register his words, just the tone in which he said them. Your breath came fast and in short huffs. Distantly you registered that you were getting a little dizzy but it wasn’t something you could articulate or even really focus on for more than a second.
His hand slid under your hip, quickly finding your clit. “Gonna cum in you, sweet girl. Think you have one more for me? Yeah, you do. Can feel it. That’s it, baby, let go for me. Come on.” And you did, fists tightly gripping the pillow under your face, cunt clenching around his cock, and your vision going white.
The next thing you knew, Jeongin was lying beside you, hand softly smoothing up and down your spine. “Hey baby. You back with me?”
You blinked owlishly at him a few times, struggling for a moment to process what had happened. “Did I pass out?”
“Only for like a minute.” You shifted to face him fully, feeling his cum leak from you and onto his blanket. “Gonna have to keep a better eye on your breathing next time. You started to hyperventilate and I didn’t catch it. I’m sorry, baby.” You saw guilt creep into his eyes.
“Oh Innie, you have nothing to apologize for. I’m more than fine, baby. I swear.” You reassured him, reaching out to press your hand over his still-thudding heart.
“Mm.” You couldn’t tell if he was fully reassured or not, but he said, “Still, I’m going to keep a better eye on your breathing. That scared me a bit. Well, more than a bit.”
“Okay,” you agreed easily. You tried to shift again, tried to move closer to him, only to find that your limbs felt like jello.
He chuckled, seeing your semi-glare at your own legs. “Come here,” he reached over and tugged you so that you were nearly on top of him. Something of your surprise at how close he wanted you to be must’ve shown on his face because he said, “I like how close you are. Always.” A pleased, giddy, grin broke across your face and you nuzzled against his pec. After a quiet moment, during which his fingers trailed up and down your arm, he shifted. “Come on. I need another shower, and I know you do too.”
He slipped out from under you then reached out and scooped you up in a bridal carry. “Innie!”
“It’s fine, I’ve got you.” You didn’t protest further, letting him carry you into his bathroom. In the shower, he let you lean on him, supporting you weight even after you didn’t need him to, while you both cleaned up, scrubbing the sweat, drool, and cum from you both.
Once out, he wrapped you in a towel while you wrapped your hair in another. Then, once again, picked you up and carried you back into his room.
“Here, baby,” Jeongin sat you on the ottoman at the foot of his bed. “Stay here. I’m gonna strip the bed, start the laundry, then I’ll bring you a snack, okay?”
“I can move on my own, Innie.”
“Yeah, now you can,” he teased, chuckling. He gently ran a finger tip over your flushed cheeks. His voice softened, “Let me take care of you, sweet girl.”
“Okay,” you said softly, nodding a little. He grinned and leaned in to press a quick, firm kiss to your lips, before moving off to put on boxers and strip his bed.
You sat, wrapped in a towel still, and watched him, marveling at how thoroughly your best friend and now lover wanted to take care of you.
664 notes · View notes
crushmeeren · 2 months ago
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// prompt list ideas!
⋆ ⬪ note ; been in a terrible, no good, awful writing slump lately. and i’ve been itching to write some nsfw, so here i am. she told me i didn’t need to credit her (but i’m gonna anyways for letting me use the ideas from her list). thanks @dollyfetti !
⋆ ⬪ note x 2 ; these are short and silly one shots to help raise my motivation to finish other projects, so have fun reading them! it was also to challenge myself not to make these a million paragraphs long… i failed.
| CW ; sex, sex, and more sex — do i really need to put everyone is at least in their mid 20’s in all my fics or????? |
⤷ ⋆ ft. itachi, megumi, kenma, shouto ⋆
master list
ᯓ★ dividers created by me.
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⋆ itachi ; ⌜ ¡! do you still hate me? ¡! ⌟
“Itachi?”
No answer.
You arch a brow, eyes rolling with a fond shake of your head. One more callout should get him to show himself. “Itachi, come out here please! I know it was an accident baby, I’m not mad, promise.”
Itachi pokes his head out the door, then sulks his way out of the bedroom and towards the couch, looking like a kicked puppy. He’s clutching a bundle of material to his chest. “Do you still hate me?” He pouts.
You giggle, rising to your feet, and grab the bottom of his shirt to pull him closer. “Clothes can be replaced, my love.”
“But I ruined your favorite t-shirt! I can’t get the god awful coffee stain to come out.”
“Itachi,” you say firmly, coaxing the wadded shirt from clenched fingers, regarding it briefly before tossing it on the coffee table. “Stop worrying. Please believe me when I tell you I’m not upset.”
Itachi’s presses his lips together. “If that is what you wish, princess.”
He doesn’t believe you.
You stare at him and he stares right back. “Fine,” you sigh, dropping to the couch. “Make it up to me.”
Itachi’s eyes widen, glancing between your legs. “I’m sorry?”
You point to the floor. “If you insist on feeling so guilty, show me you’re sorry. Eat me out, Itachi. Once I cum all is forgiven,” you offer.
Itachi kneels before his queen. Chilly fingers slip under your waistband, hips lifting as he tugs off your soft sleep shorts and panties. He presses your knees wide open, trailing soft kisses up your inner thigh, pausing to inhale deeply at the crease next to your pussy. Itachi moans.
A warm tongue dips inside, laying flat and dragging up to your clit, kissing it. He traces slow circles that curl your toes.
Itachi loves eating your pussy, and he’s fucking amazing at it.
Two slender fingers slip into your pussy and curl right away, petting your g-spot over and over. He places slick lips on your clit and shakes his head side to side.
Your stomach tightens, twitching thighs kept apart by his shoulders. “Tachi,” you moan. “Your fingers — mm fuck, gonna make me cum,” you whine, fisting silky hair.
He doesn’t stop, eyes fluttering shut to focus. You’re balanced on the edge of the couch, giving the perfect view as his free hand vanishes into his sweats, pulling out his heavy cock. He strokes himself twice from base to tip and heat surges through your veins, pussy clinging to Itachi.
You cry out his name and yank his hair, tipping into the backrest. Your husband whines, doubling his efforts. With a squeak, your heel comes up to push his shoulder. Itachi gets the message. When he pulls away his lips are cherry red and swollen.
Chest heaving, you crane your neck to peak at his cock, noticing the desperate grip he’s got on his base. He shifts in place. You meet his blown out gaze, loving the bright pink flush on his cheeks.
“Say you believe me and I’ll let you fuck me.”
Itachi rushes to answer, “I believe you.”
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⋆ megumi ; ⌜ ¡! goodnight to my wife, fuck the rest of you. ¡! ⌟
Drunk Megumi does not often come out to play.
He’s a little louder, a little more vulgar, and it’s a breeze to crawl under his skin. Despite all of that, he’s a sweet puppy for you and you alone.
An empty bottle of sake tips over when Megumi’s hand side swipes it. You’re quick to right it, giving the waitress a sheepish smile and telling her it’d be best not to bring another, regardless of Gojo’s insistence that it’s his birthday and they should drink themselves sick.
“Sorry,” Megumi mumbles, slumping against your side and resting his forehead on your temple. He presses a lingering kiss to your cheek in apology, the sweet alcohol on his breath tickling your nose.
You laugh in good nature, pushing him to sit up straight. “It’s okay gumi, I want you to have fun tonight,” you reassure with a soft smile, brushing stray hair off his face.
Megumi’s lids lower, a small smirk twisting his mouth. “I want to have fun with you when we get home,” he murmurs.
“Megumi-chan!” Gojo sings from across the table. “How will you have fun if you have whiskey dick?”
He receives a middle finger in return.
The two of you leave earlier than the rest, everyone calling out their goodnights, Yuji giggling into Nobara’s shoulder when Gojo teases Megumi about whiskey dick again.
Megumi whirls to face the table, unsteady on his feet, and points at Gojo. “Ya know what? M’only sayin’ goodnight to my wife, fuck the rest of you!”
Everyone bursts with laughter, and you cover your own with a cough, holding Megumi’s hand tight the entire walk home.
Getting inside? Easy. Getting to bed? Quite difficult.
Megumi decided to make out hot and heavy with you in the kitchen, ignoring the glass of water you’d offered, and has managed to bend you over the counter. Pants and underwear pooled at your ankles.
“Gumi!” You gasp, pussy being stretched by a cock it’s not quite ready for, pleasure burning white hot in your belly at the same time. You press your forehead to the cool marble surface, hands outstretched in front of you.
“Fuck me,” Megumi says through his teeth, searching for your wrists and twisting your arms to secure them behind your back. He thrusts in short, sharp snaps of his hips, like he’s got something to prove. “M’always fuckin’ hard for you babygirl, promise.”
“Oh god. Y-yeah, I know you are. Faster gumi, please!” You plead, spine arching, chest lifting off the counter.
Megumi gathers both your wrists in one hand, freeing one to hike your knee up on the counter. “Anything you want, baby girl,” he breathes, fucking you until you squirt all over.
Your husband makes a mess of you in the kitchen and sends Gojo the middle finger emoji the next day.
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⋆ kenma ; ⌜ ¡! i wish you’d just listen. ¡! ⌟
“What the fuck dude!” Kuroo’s irritated voice crackles through Kenma’s headset, loud enough for you to hear. “We’re getting our asses kicked, are you even paying attent — shit!”
Kenma, in fact, is not paying attention. Not to Kuroo, not to the video game, not to the live stream he paused.
His undivided attention rests on you, riding his cock sweet and slow, knees shoved between his thighs and the arms of his gaming chair. The leather keeps sticking to your skin. Kenma moans low in his throat when you bottom out, grinding hard in his lap, pussy squeezing the life out of his cock.
Thank god he flipped his mic to mute.
Originally, Kenma’s plan was a brief break from his stream for a snack. He’d sat down, popped open a bag of chips, and jumped a foot in the air when you appeared out of nowhere. Your husband had lost track of time. You pouted, reminding him of his promise to have sex when you got home. He swore only thirty more minutes and it’d be done.
So, you climbed into his lap.
It was too easy to get his dick hard. Trade a few soft kisses with him, place the sharp sting of a hickey on his neck, and he was throbbing between your legs.
The slow roll of your hips has Kenma’s head tipping back into the headrest, eyes disappearing into his skull. Your arms slip around his neck as you dip down to place your lips to his ear.
“I wish you’d just listen, Kenz,” you murmur, breath catching when Kenma’s hips jerk up, hitting your g-spot. “Then I wouldn’t have to fuck you in the middle of your stream. I bet you want your fans to see your hot wife riding you, right Kenma?”
Kenma whines, cheeks flushing dark pink, gaze growing heavy lidded. “Uh huh. Your pussy’s so pretty — oh fuck,” he gasps. “M’ cumming!” He grips your hips harder, pushes you up, yanks you down, and grinds his hips upwards. His cock twitches a few times, whimpering when you tighten your pussy on purpose.
You allow him a moment to catch his breath before moving, using his shoulders as leverage to bounce. His protests are cut off when you tell him you haven’t cum yet.
When you leave, Kenma’s shorts remain pulled taut around the middle of thighs, dick out. He gives some lame excuse about bad WiFi being the reason he’s ending the stream early.
He sounds fucked out when he speaks to Kuroo, breathless and happy. As you stroll naked from of the room, Kuroo’s boisterous laugh hits your ears.
“Bro, did you just fuck your wife on live?!”
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⋆ shouto ; ⌜ ¡! we’re not going to bed until we’ve made up. ¡! ⌟
The longest day of your life ends when you leave your agency.
Until it doesn’t.
You’d forgotten to stop by the store for dinner, so you had to backtrack. You arrive in a rush only to find said store is out of the specific sauce that’s vital to your dish. Frustration builds in your chest, but you remind yourself hanging a left in a few blocks will put you at the other location.
About a million people stop you to talk — it’s what you get for wearing your hero costume in public. To be fair, you were under the impression you’d be heading straight home. Finally you’re able to break free, glancing at your phone to see Shouto’s sent you a text that’s a bunch of question marks.
You were supposed to be home an hour ago.
You don’t reply, too caught up in hurrying to the other location. Your chest is tight, agitation becoming a physical lump in your throat. In the store, you see a bottle that vaguely familiar, buy it, and start the long trek home.
Shouto’s in the living room on the phone when you shut your front door and lock it. You toe off your shoes and stop to wave at him. He smiles, but it’s tight, and you know something’s wrong. His Father is probably on the other end.
You frown when he turns out of sight and go to the kitchen, seeing as it’s best to leave Shouto be right now. Setting the grocery bag on the table, you pull out the jar of a sauce.
It’s the wrong. fucking. jar.
You slam it on the counter, cursing to the heavens as your eyes burn, tears welling up. Shouto rushes in, hand covering the speaker to his phone. He asks what’s wrong, checking you from head to toe for an injury.
Your lower lip wobbles. “I got the wrong sauce.”
Shouto’s expression pinches, the sound of his Father being obnoxious carrying across the room. “Stop overreacting. You scared me,” he snaps, tone icy.
Tears flow over your lash line and down your cheeks, stomach dropping. “Fuck you, Shouto. Don’t talk to me like that, asshole,” you sneer.
His expression morphs into shock, then flattens to something blank. He hangs up the phone in the middle of his Father’s sentence.
You fight. Not the worst you’ve ever had, but you do slam the door to your bedroom shut in his face. You remain in there the rest of the night, too upset to eat. Shouto doesn’t come to you either.
You crawl into bed early tonight, eyes puffy, nose stuffed, with a pounding in your temples. The door creaks open slowly, muffled footsteps approaching the bed. You face the wall and ignore Shouto. The mattress dips.
“Baby,” Shouto tries, voice apologetic. He places a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”
You sniffle. “Okay.” You don’t want to talk Shouto. At all.
“Please,” he begs. “We can’t go to bed until we’ve made up. My Mother and Father used to go bed angry. I — I can’t.”
Guilt squeezes your chest. With a sigh you flip to your back. Shouto looks heartbroken, chewing his bottom lip raw.
“I’m sorry for calling you an asshole,” you relent, opening your arms. “C’mere, giant baby.”
Shouto lights up, shifting to get between your legs, snaking his arms around your waist, and buries his face into your neck. He squeezes, hard, and kisses your throat. The spot tingles. “I’m so sorry,” he mumbles. “I love you, I never want to hurt you.”
Your hands run through soft, short hair. “I love you too Sho, it’s okay.” He makes a sad sound, so you frame his cheeks and lift his head, making sure to lock eyes. “I forgive you, Sho.”
Shouto eyes flicker back and forth, searching, and he kisses you. Sweet, tender presses of his lips, shifting towards heated and needy. His tongue pushes into your mouth, a hot glide against yours, hands already fumbling to rid you of your underwear.
His are gone even faster.
You open your legs further to fit his frame, the blunt tip of his cock catching on your pussy when he angles his hips.
“Will it hurt?” Shouto whispers. His brows furrow in concern, forehead resting on yours.
You shake your head. “It won’t. I want you, please.”
He pushes just the head in, rocking with shallow thrusts until he’s bottoming out with each roll of his hips. You plant your heels on the backs of his thighs and Shouto grabs your wrists, pinning them on either side your head.
It’s sweet and fragile, how Shouto makes love to you. He forces you to keep eye contact, the pleasure in your pelvis building one thrust at a time. You plead with him to move faster, harder, he refuses.
“No baby, I want you to appreciate every single stroke.”
Your face shatters in pleasure when you cum, and he keeps you pinned with ease. Never changing the rhythm of his hips, fucking you through the high, whispering, “good girl, you look so pretty on my cock.”
Shouto’s voice cracks when his dick throbs, smothering you with a kiss, begging you to swallow his moans. You do.
Shouto clings to you after, wrapping you in his warm embrace, and you realize he’s right.
Never to go to bed angry.
932 notes · View notes
chris-prank · 9 months ago
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Can we get any NSFW headcanons for the lovely Atlas? (I love him so much you don't understand)
Yandere sub android NSFW drabbles
Im so happy you love Atlas! I really do need to give him more attention😔 
I promise one day I’ll write a complete nsfw one shot for Atlas 🙏🏻If you don't know him already you can read his Part 1 here!
CW: NSFW, mention of overstimulation, mention of cum taste and giving head
・*:.。..。.:*・*:.。..。.:*・
Atlas puts your pleasure before his own, but he still has a preference to take a more submissive role during sex. He just loves having you in charge.
He adores giving head, since Atlas has more control with his mouth and hands to make you feel really good. In addition, if you pet his head while he is between your legs, it’s going to be heaven on earth for him. 
 He is very talkative during sex, he especially likes telling you how much he loves you and how great you are. That will obviously be accompanied by moans, whimpers and whines, as he can actually feel pleasure! 
He absolutely wants to hear you say that you love him too, it makes his wires feel all hot and bothered. 
His dick size is adjustable. He can make it larger, longer, smaller, you name it! Atlas can even make it vibrate if you ask him to. 
You can also change the taste of his cum! Hydrotech has a variety of options going from the classic taste to ones like chocolate or honey flavored. 
He considers his cock a dildo and his asshole a fleshlight, so if you were to use any of those sex toys he would feel a bit betrayed and left aside. 
Atlas loveee being overstimulated, especially because you can prevent him from cumming, like literally. So even if his body can’t take it anymore and he wants to cum, nothing will come out of him. It makes his mind go blank with pleasure, and he found that to be one of the best sensations for his system. 
You can actually access his sensitivity level in his settings with an app. Perfect to play with while you two are in the middle of doing it 🤭
His voice glitch when he cum or when you overstimulate him (I feel like this is a staple for android/robot characters.) 
His voice also becomes more high pitched and whiny during sex, no more monotonous tone for him. 
Atlas often imitates actions, words, attitudes that he sees in the porn you read or watch. He likes to surprise you with new submissive slutty things he learned off the internet and satisfy your inner fantasies. He is not into role play per say, but he is down to do it and gets very convincing in his roles. 
He doesn’t have any body hair, he is smooth smooth. Also, he has metallic patterns on his chest and tummy just like the metal plates on both of his cheeks! They are especially sensitive to the touch.
He feel the urge to call you master during sex.
When you guys are done he’ll make sure to make you drink some water, ask if he can clean you up, change the bed sheets, etc. He knows that after care is a crucial part of sex.
・*:.。..。.:*・*:.。..。.:*・
When writing I felt like an hydrotech employee trying to promote all the androids 18+ functionalities 😂
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crybabydxll · 1 year ago
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𝓬𝓻𝔂𝓫𝓪𝓫𝔂𝓭𝔁𝓵𝓵
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.𖥔 ݁ ⋆ atlas ! : oc fic !
𝓭𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓵𝓮𝓲𝓯'𝓼 𝓫𝓯 ⋆ 𝓭𝓸𝓽𝓽𝓸𝓻𝓮'𝓼 𝓬𝓻𝔂𝓫𝓪𝓫𝔂 𝓶𝓪𝓵𝓮𝔀𝓲𝓯𝓮
cw: top dom oc ノ sub bttm ftm reader ノ bunny hybrid reader ノ oc buys reader at an auction ノ hybrids are rare species that are kept as pets ノ dacryphilia ノ breeding ノ cig burns ノ v sex ノ words count :
𝅼 ☆ ˑ
you were tied up with white lace , wrists and ankles , while being put on display ( you felt humiliated from being basically nude infront of everyone )as the last hybrid at the auction , you're a bunny boy with the cutest ears and tails and complete with an adorable face ! "can i get a 500k ?" the auctioneer said into the megaphone , one person lifted their pattle . "can i get a 600k ? 700k !" the auction continued until it got to 900k and no one offered..until one man at the front lifted his pattle . "sold to mr. everhart !" you were taken away to be put in actual clothing : a dress shirt with ruffles on the end of the sleeves , black pants and brown shoes ( idk the name ,, js think of brown maryjanes but fully covered with some details !!) after you were prepared you were escorted to a luxurious black car , and who was sitting in the backseat waiting for you ? none other than your new owner : mr. everhart . "hello reader ~!" you could tell he was a kind and gentle person , but you were in for such a wild ride !
as soon as you two got home, it was straight to his bedroom ! you were on the bed laying on your back with your legs spread as he ate you out while playing with your clit , you moaned helplessly as he pulled his head away from your soaked crotch , as soon as you catched your breath he taped a small pink vibrator to your clit but he didn't turn it on yet. as soon as he thrusted deeply inside your pussy he turned it on , the vibration on your clit and his fast paced thrusts made you see stars. "gnk..! h-hngh~ s'too much s-sir !" you manged to moan out. "sh.." he hushed you in a soft tone . "you should just be a good boy and let me breed you , understood ?~" you nod your head , you'd never turn down the idea of your master breeding you ! atleast..now that you're his forever !! he takes the cigarette that he lit nd gives you a small burn on the back on your neck , as soon as you cum , your sloppy cunt clamping onto his dick made him finally cum right inside of your pretty pussy. "awh..~ your bunnypussy looks so good stuffed with my cum..doesn't it cotton tail ?~" he said as he kissed your cheek . "uh..uh huh.."
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this fic belongs to: @crybabydxll ( please ask before you can translate and be sure to credit me / tag me)
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lorelune · 4 months ago
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playing pretend
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|| jing yuan x reader || E/18+ || loss of virginity roleplay || wc: 2k  || ao3 ||
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You and Jing Yuan rewrite a memory.
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minors, antis and ageless blogs dni
(a continuation of this piece)
notes: hello loves!!! this is a finished comm <3 lovely commissioner asked for an expansion and continuation of my first!! jing yuan piece, way back from 2023, linked above!! this was a really fun dynamic and concept to revisit :3c oh jing yuan, how adept you'd be at leaving behind a lovely memory in the place of one less kind. thank you for the comm and enjoy my dear reader!!
CWs: gn afab reader, roleplaying, specifically loss of virginity, soft soft sticky smut, minor references to an unpleasant first sexual experience
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You hadn’t expected Jing Yuan to seriously follow through with anything, following your drunken confession. In retrospect, this is deeply foolish of you. Jing Yuan is nothing if not a diligent man, even if the way he is diligent is nearly silent and hidden. He is a master strategist, after all. You feel silly for thinking that your fantasy would only stay as raunchy dirty talk and not something he would indulge fully.
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Jing Yuan brings it up a few weeks later, after a bath you share. He does so casually, it catches you off guard. He uses it to his advantage, plying you with kisses along your shoulders and up your neck.
The man wants expansion. Candid desires and details. Confirmation that you really do want a redo, with him. As calm and mischievous as he tends to look, there’s a gleam in his eye that is stunningly earnest and hopeful.
So you tell him all. You craft a night together to be shared.
...
You’re laid out beneath him, every part of you bare. 
This part of sex sometimes scares you. The exposure of your core, the softness of your belly revealed to one who could, theoretically, gore you in ways that go beyond physical.
(Perhaps you carry this perception from your real first time. That as much pleasure as this act can bring, and has come to bring you, there’s a blade edge of danger that you can’t ever unsee.)
In this moment, you aren’t so worried. Jing Yuan is good to you. He always is. It’s easy to forget now. To lose yourself in the moment that Jing Yuan has built for you.
He cups your cheeks, and pets over the apples of them with a smile that’s soft and shiny even in the low light of your bedroom. 
“I’ll take good care of you,” he says so softly; you’re certain not even the light breeze within the bedroom heard it. His hand slips between your thighs, hovering but not yet touching. “No one has touched you here, right, dear?”
You melt at his words, the finer details of the past and the world out of your cozy bedroom are welcomingly lost on you.
You nod dumbly as his thumb swipes over your wobbling bottom lip, “Uh-huh.”
“Just me?” He tilts his head sweetly. 
“Just you.”
“A virgin,” he hums, a lacing of sweetness in his voice that you can feel on the sides of your tongue. He noses into your jaw, drawing his lips in the form of half-there kisses. He squeezes the plush of your inner thigh. 
You whine, squirming with his words. You are a virgin for him now, untouched and woefully unfamiliar with the indulgences of physical pleasure. 
Jing Yuan draws his knuckle over the seam of your cunt. You gasp, thighs closing around his hand. He hushes your worry, your shyness, and kisses the base of your throat. He sucks a bruise there, laving over the tender spot with his tongue until you’re writhing, grasping at his shoulders for some type of purchase. 
He pulls away, lips wet and the honey gold of his eyes swallowed by his pupils.
“I’ll take good care of you.” He assures. You know he will. You don’t think you’ve ever been more confident in something else before this moment. “We’ll make sure you’re ready, hm?”
And he does. He does. 
Jing Yuan slicks his fingers down first in your mouth, teasingly pressing the digits to your lips before slicking them himself. He wets his fingers with a suck, making sure they’re dripping, before returning to tend to you.
The first finger he eases into you doesn’t hurt, not really, but there is a stretch.
(You’d held off on sex, or any touch of this kind, for a few weeks. It helps with the immersion, how your body must acclimate to Jing Yuan’s touch again.)
He slinks down the length of your body, leaving kisses in his wake as he thrusts his first finger in and out of you, adding a second when you’re wet enough for it to be obscene and audible. He reaches your navel, trailing further down to kiss your clit. Gentle, teasing, so thoroughly undoing. 
Two fingers aren’t enough. He withdraws the soaked digits only to drip a glob of spit onto them and third, before returning to you. He gives you even more, lapping at your clit with your thighs shifted onto his shoulders. 
It’s— a lot. All of it is. You like that it is.
It does feel like this is your first time. Nervousness brews in your belly, nestled alongside hearth-hot arousal. Both are so instantly balmed and held by Jing Yuan. So lovingly, so easily, and without anything other than care and patience. It’s— it’s so much better—
“I’ll teach you such pleasure,” he tells you, stretching you slowly, cooing when you gasp at the stretch and little sting. “Would you like that?”
“Y-Yes—” Your voice wobbles. “Please—”
He muffles a chuckle into your cunt, “Are you feeling desperate, dear?”
“Maybe.”
“Patience.” Jing Yuan curls his fingers, playing with the idea of orgasm but not giving in to it. “Let me treat you well.”
(Jing Yuan enjoys extended foreplay. His own refractory period is relatively long, and his orgasm isn’t something he chases in the way that past partners of yours have. The act of lying together, exchanging pleasure like blows traded during a particular steamy spar, is one of his favorites.)
In your foggy, blissed-out mind, you’re learning this about him for the first time. You want more of it. More. A greedy thing, you are. You shake as you twine your fingers in his hair and tug, dragging him somehow closer to your cunt. 
Your hips roll down— for more of his fingers, more of his mouth. He groans as you do. Fucking his face like this feels dirty, but it feels so good too. Pleasure runs from your guts to your spine. 
Jing Yuan, however, only lets you indulge so far. He clicks his tongue, bracing your hips down with a single broad forearm before extracting himself, at least somewhat, from between your thighs. 
“Didn’t I ask for your patience?” He tilts his head, sly and cute all at once. 
“... Maybe.”
“Perhaps I must teach you to listen better,” he muses. “A lesson for another day, hm? If you’ll have me once again.”
“Of course—”
It’s a given. He knows this. It shows in his molten gaze as he regards you with nothing but fondness. 
...
Jing Yuan fucks you like it’s really— really, your first time. Your legs are bracketed around his hips while he kneels between your thighs. One of his hands fists around his cock while the other braces against your hips, rubbing little circles there. You tremble with a mixture of trepidation and excitement, all bundled into one. Your cunt drools with a mix of slick and leftover spit.
You shiver.
Jing Yuan’s cock is so hard that the tip looks almost purple. He has a nice cock— a good length and a girth that guarantees a stretch. Now, he slicks it up with lube, looking at you sweetly as he does. 
“We’ll go slow,” he says. “Let’s take our time.”
You squirm.
This is your redo, isn’t it? You deserve the slowness, patience, and care that Jing Yuan gives you without hesitation. It’s the reason for this dance. 
Jing Yuan settles closer, the head of his cock nudging your cunt. You whine and he hushes you as he slowly presses forward.
His hand leaves your hips, instead wrapping itself around one of your own. Your fingers lock together as he rolls his hips. It’s weighted, measured movement. It aches but in a good way. You know you’ll be sore tomorrow as a lingering reminder. You crave it.
A shattering gasp works its way from your lips and you squeeze Jing Yuan’s wide hand within your own. Each grind of his hips fucks his cock a little deeper inside of you. He’s so warm— scalding in all the right ways. The girth of him, the heat of him— it’s rewriting you—
(Just like you wanted.)
By the time Jing Yuan is fully seated in you, you’re both gasping, grasping at each other. Your cunt flutters around his cock, so deep in you that you think you’ll bruise. You want it to. You want to be carved out in the shape of him, forever, like it has only ever been him inside you. It’s a particular type of claim, one you have a difficult time verbalizing explicitly.
You’re glad Jing Yuan understood enough to actualize it as this, though.
When he starts moving, you can’t help but look down between your bodies for the view of it. Jing Yuan’s cock is soaked and sticky with a combination of both of you. It’s hypnotizing to watch him move in slow, deep strokes. The slick sounds mingle with his harsh breathing, and the little gasps and whines muffle against your lips. 
They mix with your own, sweet like syrup that you want to drink down as nectar.
You’ve been on the edge of— something— throughout this entire evening. Maybe you’ve been turned on since Jing Yuan led you to the bedroom, secure in the knowledge that you’re going to be fucked and held like he always does, but under the veil that it’s been like this since the beginning. Maybe, you’ve been horny since Jing Yuan so sweetly pressed you for more details in the bath a few weeks back. Maybe, you’ve been horny since that tipsy night when you gave Jing Yuan a confession that you’d never given any lover prior.
It’s all liquid now, unimportant details as it all culminates in a cresting type of pleasure, low in your guts. You’re close, probably. 
Jing Yuan pulls out, leaving you empty, sitting back on his haunches.  It's a brief, but important motion. He rearranges your legs so your ankles rest by his head. His front braces against the back of your thighs, the full weight of him laid into you. His hands come to rest behind your knees. 
You hardly have time to register the distressing nature of your sudden emptiness before he folds you in half effortlessly and fucks into your against deeper and harder. A sound rips from your throat, desperate, like a sob that you can’t contain. Slick sticks between the two of you, lovely words pour from Jing Yuan’s lips like honey wine. You can’t make out specific words, or phrases, just the notions of care, of desire, of overwhelming pleasure that’s coming to a peak.
His hand lips between you and with a few well-timed thrusts and circles of your clit, you’re cumming on his cock. Your back bows and you tug at his hair, scratch at his shoulders. You maybe beg for more, beg for—
(Him to not go, to not leave, to keep and you have—)
He muffles your words with a kiss, his tongue breaching your mouth and stealing away any doubts in an instant. It’s unfair, how easily he sates and assures you. You shake beneath him, Jing Yuan’s thrusts grow erratic, the sounds he gives you becoming more desperate and high and airy— (pitches only reserved for you—)
He cums with his own cry, ducking into your neck as he pumps into you. You feel the flood of warmth and sticky sounds. 
You pet his hair as he comes down along with you, not stilling until his cock is properly soft and slipping out of you. 
“F-Fuck,” his voice shakes. His arms wrap around your shoulders, caging you, as he drags you under the sheets, beneath him. 
“‘S good?” 
“So good,” he tells you. “I’m not done with you, however.”
“I-Is that so?”
“Give an old man some time.”
He says so with mirth, voice all gravely from pleasure. You luxuriate in it, feeling cored in the way you so craved. 
(Only his. Only, only, only his.)
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