#cw: piss

[doobean]

ROMAN HOLIDAY ─ NAGI S.

synopsis: Nagi Seishiro has a plethora of secrets up his sleeves. He knows that Reo loves being in the center of attention—well, no, that's a fact. But one thing that Nagi knows for sure is that the Mikage Corporation is on the verge of filing for bankruptcy. And what better way to prevent that than to have an arranged marriage with another powerful company? You're intelligent, beautiful, and obedient. Unsurprisingly, it doesn't take long for Reo to fall for you, and you seem to be content with everything—at least, you pretend to be. Nagi knows you're head over heels for his best friend, but doesn't understand why you hate his guts.

contents: explicit content, afab!fem!reader, bathroom sex, kinda cheating/kinda not really, piss involved towards the end, dubcon, hate sex, nagi centric, reader comes from an affluent family, power/dominance play, frottage, descriptors of a curvy, busty reader, breast play/nipple play, facials word count: 4.8k a/n: this fic is for all the nagi haters out there ig @niitoshi + @pipppinn (u get a rest from beta reading ur enemy)

You’re an absolute menace. 

Nagi had no clue, when his best friend had introduced you as his potential fiancee months ago, just how big of an impact it was going to have on his life. In most cases of Nagi’s lack of social life, he originally had no intentions of befriending you, at least, outside of introductions and shorthand greetings whenever he crashed over at Reo’s apartment. To him, it didn’t make sense to get close to you, even if you were going to be a major part of Reo’s life. 

Unlike his best friend, you appeared reserved and uptight, much like all the other affluent students he surrounded himself with back in high school and university. Nagi thinks he’s only received one ‘hello’ from you, and that was just from the first meeting. You’ve always attached yourself to Reo, whenever he’s around, and Reo would somehow play it off as you’re just “shy” around others.

“Don’t take it the wrong way,” Reo had assured him with a firm shoulder clasp. “She’ll eventually warm up to you.”

And while Nagi still has a hard time believing that, he didn’t feel the need to continue the conversation knowing that Reo wouldn’t get the hint. You don’t flaunt your wealth and status around, but Nagi has always sensed that you were looking down on him. Why else would you always stare at him?

You come from a family of ‘self made’ entrepreneurs and billionaires. 

From all those last minute conferences meetings that Reo would have him attend, simply because his best friend would lose track of time whenever they’re together, Nagi knows that your father owns a famous construction company that’s somehow affiliated with the Mikage estate. From one shareholders’ meeting, he’s learned that your family owns 60% of all rental properties in Japan, and he doesn’t know if that’s something to be proud of. Coming from a semi-wealthy family himself, Nagi is well aware that there’s no such thing as an ethical billionaire.

He’s seen your family name plastered on billboards before, shining over the neighborhoods in Akihabara, and the company sounded impressive enough that Reo’s father didn’t hesitate to bring up the topic of marriage during a conversation about future prospects. 

Reo didn’t seem to mind, or rather he tried really, really hard to mask any trace of anxiousness and annoyance when he signed the NDA papers. Nobody wants to be in a loveless, arranged marriage, after all. Especially not when they still have their whole youth ahead of them. Though, needless to say, Reo fell for you rather quickly. Nagi’s aware he’s not the best at expressing his emotions, but anyone with a sensible brain could obviously tell you’re the standard stereotype of “wifey material”.

Quiet. Intelligent. Extremely obedient to the seniors around you. Nevermind the fact that your behavior reflects your style as well. Your makeup never strays from being “too little” or “too much”. The outfits you wear always reminded Nagi of those old British dramas from the late 90s, he thinks Reo calls it “old money” fashion. Whatever that means. 

He just knows that it’s classy and fits whatever housewife aesthetic you’re trying to go for. Even though he can easily see through how much you hate it. You’re always picking at the threads in annoyance, as if they’re tight, itchy, and alien on your body. Even when he watches your pretty, plump lips smile and nod towards everyone around you, you always quickly turn sour when you think no one’s watching. 

At age twenty four, Nagi carefully watches his best friend enter the room with you wrapped around his arm, from the corner of the banquet hall. Today’s a celebration, a huge one, because Reo just completed his accelerated MBA program and, therefore, is one day closer to filling in his father’s shoes as CEO of the Mikage Corporation. This also means he’s one step closer to becoming a married man. Soon, you’re going to be a permanent fixture in Reo’s life. That thought alone had his tongue swelling up in his mouth, and urged himself to get it together.

The event ends up being treated like a work gala. Everyone is dressed in black tie, the smell of warm leather fills the air, Nagi only half understands the business jargon being thrown around, and the food looks rather bland for what it’s worth. Most of the guests are crowded around Reo and his father, and he can only assume the business executives are trying to wiggle their way in to just get a chunk of free shares. 

He notices you standing to the side, in the midst of your own conversation with your father. Your outfit throws Nagi off, slightly. It’s certainly different from your previous choices, more modern and form fitting, highlighting certain assets that makes it slightly even more obvious why certain men in the room couldn't stop their gawking.

Somehow, even though you’re caught up in a seemingly heated conversation on the other side of the room, Nagi catches your stare. Your eyes, facial expression, and even aura feels uncomfortably blank, despite the small smile you force out. 

He merely awkwardly waves back and, for whatever reason, you take that as a sign to make your way over. He can only groan inwardly as he watches you exit out your current conversation and thread gracefully through the stuffy crowd, somehow showing up with two empty wine glasses in hand. Originally, his plan was to just show up for the free food, say hi to Reo, then prepare an Irish exit. With the look you’re currently giving him, Nagi feels like he can’t plan an escape. 

You turn around and reach for a bottle of wine on the bar cart, a brand that Nagi could never pronounce correctly despite the numerous times that he’s heard it leave from Reo’s mouth. It’s also the same imported wine from France that all three of you shared the day Reo had introduced you to him. From what Nagi remembers, it didn’t leave a good taste. 

You end up pouring the two glasses, then whirl back around to face him, quickly setting the drink down by the end table. Nagi picks up his glass as soon as it's available, but you clink yours against it before he could bring it up to his lips.

“Do you have a moment?” you mumble quietly.

“For what?” he’s honestly surprised to hear that many words coming from you.

“I…” you trail off, looking down into your drink and unconsciously hug your sides. Nagi uses this opportunity of silence to sip. Then, after a moment, you shake your head a little, clearly flustered over something. 

“I want to talk to you about Reo, about your friendship and me fitting into that. I’ve been thinking about it for a while but I haven’t had the chance to bring it up.”

Nagi just nods, sipping again, not sure if he’s pleased or disappointed by your response. Of course the very first thing you bring up after not speaking a word to him for months is about their friendship. 

He then notices that you’re suddenly rubbing your palms, hands alternating between them as you stretch your fingers out. You’re grimacing slightly, and Nagi leans back against the wall, something stirs inside of him at the sight of you appearing in distress. He’s not sure what to make of the odd feeling.

With a shrug, he tilts his head. “Go ahead with it.”

You meet his eyes and shake in disapproval, setting down your wine glass. “I need to speak with you in private about it.”

Nagi doesn’t say anything, and a moment of silence passes between you two as several high executives try to usher the rest of the crowd to the next room for an unrelated conference meeting. At one point, a clientele calls you over for a drink, and you disappear to join him for one, leaving Nagi to stew in his own thoughts once more.

A part of him wants to go over to Reo, telling him what happened, why you’re suddenly being so vague and direct with him after all this time. However, with one glance at his best friend, who’s currently knee-deep in a conversation between his father, the idea dies out. He’s never seen Reo this relaxed and determined before. 

Maybe the closest expression he shared was when they were both heavily sprawled out on the turf field after an intense football match back in high school, but even then Nagi doesn’t even think he’s seen Reo this content. He wants to believe that you’re simply just asking about potential wedding details, maybe to even join in on the planning, but that’s laughable. You seemed nervous, and not for the right reasons.

He shouldn’t be here, glass half empty, stomach barely full from all these damn healthy finger foods, sitting under the appraising and curious eyes from other businessmen and yourself. 

“Nagi, an answer?” you probe, as if hearing his thoughts when you finally return. 

Were you always this demanding? He shifts in place and adjusts the collar of his suit, and tries his best to sound unaffected. “Right now?”

You finally smile, and it lights up your entire face. “Right now.”

At that, Nagi downs the rest of his drink.

You eventually coax him to an empty hallway, down the corner next to the fire escape, while everyone else is preoccupied with the meeting. You kept reiterating that it’ll be quick, that Nagi will understand what’s the “problem”, but he doesn’t believe it one bit. Not when you’re squeezing both sides of your arms and keep glancing down the hallway, anxious to be seen.

Without warning, you blurt out, “Please, stop dragging down Reo. I want you out of his life.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, yet is drenched with anxiety and the barest edge of vexation. 

“What?” Nagi can’t help but be offended. The reluctance on your tongue contradicts the harsh order. 

“I’ve seen the way he talks to you. You’re a distraction to him and having you around will just—”

“He can say what he wants about me. Why do you care so much? Your only job is to sit by his side.”

“Nagi, please—”

“Forget it,” he can’t seem to find an answer to your demand. It doesn’t make sense, and even if he did make out an answer, his brain is currently too distorted and torn to process a coherent response. 

You stand your ground and the next few words are fumbling over the other, “I’ve… never liked you since the day I met you.” 

That doesn’t surprise him. You aren’t much of a talker, but then again, neither is he. Still, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re currently having an unusual personality shift—almost as if you’re revealing a bit of truth about yourself to him, and only him. Reo probably doesn’t know that this side of you exists. 

Nagi doesn’t bother to respond. He only rests his back against the bathroom door behind him, crossing his arms over his chest in irritation, and stares down at you. In that moment, he can see the raw edge of your bubbling… is it anger he’s sensing? Your body is filled with tension and he can’t imagine why. Your eyes are boring into his and refusing to let go.

Suddenly, Nagi feels his frustrations growing thicker. 

“You don’t know anything about me.”

You step closer, eyes narrowing, yet you look conflicted. “I could say the same thing.” 

The proximity of you—the blend of sweat, bergamot, and something that could only be described as bitterness—makes Nagi dizzy. The space of this hallway, once ample, now feels suffocatingly small. 

“Nagi,” you seeth out, a plea that’s both sounding an invitation and surrender. “This is a business deal. If this doesn’t fall through it’ll look bad on us and—argh, I really need this to work out, okay?” You quickly clamp a hand over your mouth, as if surprised that the words flooded out.

It wasn’t much spilled, but he understands the gist of it. Your frantic explanation earns him a curt laugh, one that’s distinctly him. He almost feels sorry that you were forced to do this, all of this. But you could’ve also easily gone against it, too. “You can’t think for yourself, can you? This is why I can’t stand these heirs and heiresses, you’re all a bunch of hassles to be around.”

“Fuck you.” you’re cracking under pressure. The makeup, dress, your hair… The facade of being perfect and plain slowly comes crumbling down the longer Nagi stands there, unwavering. “I can think for myself.”

“Prove it.” His tone is a dangerous one, spoken with an even tone. 

You take another step forward, slow and purposeful. It serves as a reminder that your background is influential, powerful, and that you’re no puppet. Nagi wants to believe that more than you do. 

He would be doing himself a disservice if he hasn’t admitted that there’ve been nights where he does think about you. What life would be like if you haven’t given him the cold shoulder, times where he wishes he could understand all the hidden languages spoken between you and Reo, and if you would’ve treated him any differently.

So, Nagi’s command is framed as a tease, and knowing how you really are now, you’re not going to leave until you give him an answer. Nagi Seishiro hates the rich, hates dependent people even more, but he’s a good guy when he tries to be. You, on the other hand, might be ruining that for him.

He watches as your plump lips part, and a needy little sound escapes. It sounds like a damn moan that’s absolutely dripping in desperation. Nagi lets out a breath, feeling his insides liquefy and overflow. His cloudy eyes search your face, and the dark overcast over your eyes instantly hooks him in. He can see the wetness where your lips separate, and suddenly he’s overwhelmed with the desire to trap your mouth between his.

Nagi drops his hands to both sides of your face and holds your cheeks tight in the expanse of his calloused palms, drawing himself closer to you when he feels your hand latch onto his forearm. Your cheeks are warm and soft beneath his touch and, without a second thought, you both close the gap.

You gasp into his mouth as his lips claim yours with a hunger that leaves no room for hesitation, a heated urgency that clears any uncertainty. He feels your other hand shooting up and roughly tugging at his silver locks, a stark contrast to your passive actions earlier. His hands roam over your body, tracing and mapping your curves with extreme possessiveness. 

Nagi wants more. Wants your hands even lower, on his thighs, between his legs, wants your pretty lips wrapped around the base of his cock. He wants you, but not here. He wants to leave here with you, see where you live, do this on the comfort of your mattress, inhale the scent of your sheets, and rid your mind of his best friend and that damn business proposal.

“Excuse me? Is somebody there?”

You pull away first with a concealed string of curses by the intrusion, gasping for air as soon as you separated, the hand you have on his forearm is now trembling. Whether it's from excitement, fear, or a combination of the two—Nagi can’t tell.

He peers over to find a security officer patrolling around, radio in hand, at the end of the hallway. From this angle, where the corner curves slightly, it doesn't seem like he’s able to make the two of you out, at least for now. The last thing he wants is for the media to highlight why you were seen alone with him. He’s already got enough on his plate with professional football on its own. Kissing his best friend’s bride to be is something entirely different. He doesn’t want to wait around to find what might happen.

“Fuck, fuck, where should we—”

“Quit freaking out,” he pulls the handle behind him and tugs on your waist, ushering you inside the bathroom as the sounds of sharp loafers against marble creep closer. Bewilderment flashes across your face as he shuts the door and locks it. He ignores your swarm of questions and props you against the sink’s countertop in an instant. 

You appear terribly confused with yourself as he cages you in between his arms, his head leaning against yours with a dark look in his eyes. Your lipstick is smeared at the corner of your lips, your hair is nothing but a disheveled mess, and your damn breasts— Nagi looks down and scoffs —you're not wearing a bra. He soon realizes that this look suits you better than any other outfit you’ve worn. 

“What was that,” you try to say, but he quickly keeps your busy mouth occupied again. His fingers trail up your shoulder blades, easily slipping down the top half of your dress, and soon your breasts fall free — round, heavy, and soft. 

Your chest heaves as you breathe in sharply, tongue darting out to wet your lower lip. “You’re such a dick,” you shoot him a misty glare, defiant in tone despite every bit of your body language screaming submission.

This is enough to set him off. Nagi’s fingers curl into your waist, sighing in pleasure when you whine at his harried touch. He lifts you from the counter, your legs instinctively wrapping themselves around his waist, as he pushes your back against the door. The frame and his greedy palms on your fleshy ass serves as support as he begins to shamelessly grind against you, the needy, aching pressure from his arousal fights through his slacks. 

God, he wants to fuck you right into the door.

You moan into his shoulder when Nagi dives against your throat, swearing under his breath as he finally gets a taste of your intoxicating skin, a sound of pure lust vibrating throughout your bodies.

“Don’t tease me,” he warns with a groan.

“I’ll do what I want,” you bite back, jolting in pleasure when his tight erection probes against your thighs. 

Nagi decesends, his mouth leaving wet trails across your collarbones and down your chest until he stops at your breasts. Gently, his teeth grazes over one nipple, nipping at it until he hears a sharp hiss from above. Before you could chastise him, he captures your nipple in his mouth, sucking the stiff peak between his lips. He feels the dampness of your panties rubbing against the clothed tip, causing his tongue to twirl aggressively over the wrinkled flesh.

“Oh, fuck,” your mews are growing louder and louder in pitch. Nagi hopes that the security guard from earlier is long gone by now. He’s also certain that his dick might come bursting apart any second. But he’s not going to admit that, not to you of all people.

Seeing you crumble under his fingertips makes Nagi’s heart swell. He pulls back with a loud pop and closes the distance between your lips again, pressing hard so you can feel the urgency from the heat of his tongue.

“Need you,” he finds himself whispering against your lips, pressing his entire weight of upper body into yours.

You choke out another desperate sound and begin fumbling with his waistband, hands blindly searching to feel him, trying to prove and show that you can provide the same fervent pleasure and attention. You both sigh when Nagi feels his cock springing free, hard and leaking with copious amounts of pre. He carefully watches your movements, there’s hesitation and surprise glassed across your face as you gently wrap your fingers around his length. 

It barely makes the full circumference. 

“Scared?”

Then a shudder rumbles through Nagi’s frame as you begin stroking him. It takes everything in him to not rip your dress in two and fuck you right then and there, but he’s trying not to be eager, caging his bloodlust. But it’s hard. Hard when you pull him into a kiss that leaves him breathless and grinding against your palm. 

Nagi can’t stop himself from the way he crushes his lips against you, nor can he stop the way his tongue slips forward into your mouth, his hands squeezing the softness of your waist when you melt in his embrace, pressing those soft breasts against his blazer.

You break the kiss with a moan, and it’s so messy that he can see the tether of saliva that stretches between you two when you finally pull away. Your face looks even more dazed than before, and you squirm against him, sending a hot flare soaring throughout his body when your thumb brushes against his leaking tip. 

“Sensitive?” you mimic his teasing tone.

Nagi’s now positive that you’re trying to kill him. He’s known it before, from the first moment he’s laid eyes on you, but there’s no reasonable explanation for you to be so beautiful and sexy all at the same time. The way you’re teasing his bare cock, rubbing your wet, clothed cunt straight against it, is doing nothing but sending him straight into a tailspin.

The truth is, when you first approached him, the only thing that had been on his mind was getting to know you more, same as it has been for months now ever since he’s met you. Now, with your lips looking glazed and pouty as ever, he feels like he’s on cloud nine.

“Turn around,” he commands.

You stare at him with wide eyes, and Nagi sees your brain rewiring in real time whether or not to follow through with your stubbornness, but after a moment, you obey. You unclasp your legs around his waist and he gently sets your feet down, letting your body spin around so that your palms are flat against the door, back arched, and ass pressed against his length. The look you shoot across your shoulder stirs something inside of him, and he quickly takes you by the hips, pulling aside your soaked panties with ease. 

“Is this okay?” he doesn’t know why he’s asking right now, despite everything that’s happened within the past few minutes. 

Regardless, it’s meaningless to wait for your response; the wave of pleasure from the way he’s playing with your breasts from behind, to the warmth of your puffy entrance teasing the tip of his cock, has you unable to respond with anything other than a loud moan. Nagi takes this as an affirmative response, and angles his hips from behind, sucking in his teeth as he watches the entirety of his length being swallowed and hugged by your gummy walls.

The mirrors in the room have begun to fog up when he starts the initial movement. Nagi grabs a palmful of your ass, grasping and kneading them in a way that has you widening your legs to deeper access. Your soft whimpers and moans ring like a siren’s call in his ears, and he doesn’t quite understand how you’re able to control his body like this, but you’re squeezing him just right as if you’ve known him forever. 

Nagi shuts his eyes and easily begins to lose himself to this bliss. The tight, velvety walls are all too euphoric, making him easily forget that you’re both in a random bathroom in one of the biggest, extravagant conference halls in the country. A vivid grunt escapes from his mouth as his shaky hands maneuver up to your hips, guiding them in a circular motion as the fat of your ass ripples from every thrust he spears into you.

“Fuck,” he pants out. “Just like that…”

But the rough, muffled sounds of sex in the room shatters as a knock pierces through the air. 

Your fingers, splayed across the door, come together close and form into fists as he watches you struggle to catch your breath. After a moment of silence, a tender murmur breeches the stillness. 

It’s Reo, and his call for you is automatically fear inducing. Nagi feels you clamping up more than ever.

“—are you in there?” he repeats through the door’s barrier. 

Panic flicks across your features and you scramble for composure, frantically pulling up the top half of the dress and craning your neck around to gawk at Nagi, wondering if he has any clue on what to say, or do. Little do you know, Nagi has absolutely zero plausible answers.

“It’s okay,” he leans down and nips your shoulder blades. “Just stay like this.” 

A sweet whimper exits from you as he continues his thrusts, slower and shallower. “A-Are you insane?! He’s going to know it’s us…!”

You’re afraid, intimidated by the position that you’re both in, but Nagi kisses you again and engulfs your hand with his. He offers a comforting squeeze before dining in the pleasure of the tip of your tongues touching.

“Stay quiet and he’ll eventually go away,” what is he even saying right now? He’s not being fair to Reo, but somehow there’s hardly any guilt flowing through his veins. 

His best friend, your future husband, faintly calls your name again. This time with more uncertainty. There’s nothing but stillness on either side of the wooden barrier, where neither of you are willingly to slip out a sound. Nagi just rests his head on the side of your neck, letting the sweat from his bangs seep down, as he focuses on your steady breaths while having to control his own. If it weren’t for Reo on the other side, he would’ve fallen asleep just by the rhythm of your heartbeat. 

Another agonizing moment of silence passes before Reo mumbles out an apology, saying that he’s got the wrong person, and retreats. The sounds of heavy heels from his loafers hitting against the floor burns deep into both of your memories. 

By the time he’s gone, Nagi doesn’t waste any time and throttles against a spot inside of you that has you squealing like an animal. 

Pulling his hands away from yours, he brings them up to your chest, teasing your nipples while you throw your ass back against him, fucking as hard as you possibly can. He feels you drifting far away, bringing yourself closer and closer on his length, and a tight familiar coil begins building inside of his core.

Suddenly, you try to pull away, stumbling over your next words, “W-Wait, stop, I feel like I have to go—!” 

Nagi huffs and readjusts his grip around your waist, snuggling his cock deeper, “Then go, what’s stopping you, heiress?”

“I’m being serious…!”

Lowering his mouth to your ear, he whispers, “And so am I.”

He doesn’t care. Nagi positions his hand lower, keeping the other arm wrapped tightly around your waist, and his long, callous fingers pull your folds up, applying pressure against your full bladder. Vibrations of your whines send him to set a wicked pace until you’re creaming white around the base of his cock. The wet sounds, your moans, and the sloppy grip—it’s all too much, too exhilarating for him.

“Have to be patient…” Nagi murmurs, but his words are starting to jumble. Heat gathers and twists throughout his stomach and he winces, trying to not cum all in an instant. 

Your voice is nothing but all breathy moans, puffs of air rushing all around, and you mumble something unintelligible, but it’s all the confirmation Nagi needs. He shudders when he feels the warm wetness finally spill from your pussy as you climax at the same time. Your lewd moans are buried deep into your shoulder, and the sound is forever imprinted in his mind. He feels thousands of sparks ignite between his thighs at that saccharine note.

Nagi relishes in the warmth, until he finds his own release and pulls out, cumming all over the front of your chest, and even striking the bottom of your chin. He leans back with a gasp, gripping the sink counter for balance, his heart thundering as the bliss ebbs away entire chunks of his brain. Slowly, the haziness begins to fade, and Nagi tucks his throbbing cock away, reminding himself that he’s in a restroom of all places. 

“Fuck…”

Suddenly, Nagi hears you crying for his name and sees your entire body shaking, trying to calm down from the high of your orgasm. Wet, fat tears are streaming down your face, but he wraps one arm around the front of your body, pinning you against him. You’re both breathing heavily, covered in the sticky warmth and heavy sweat, but the feeling of your racing heartbeat is soothing him. 

Nagi holds you tight, letting his fingers get caught in your damp hair.

© 2023 DOOBEAN. do not copy any of my writing and translate/repost.

[forlorn-crows]

Crowwwww can you tell me about how much Dew likes it when Dr Aether wears those stretchy blue gloves pls :3

i hate you. look what you've made me do. now there's lube and cum and piss all over the place. fucking. save me doctor aether.

dew better not be fucking allergic to latex. nitrile doesnt sound as nice to write so he's getting latex.

cw: 1.8k of med kink, light bondage, and a nice wet handy with a finger up the ass. dewther banter. overstim leading to piss at the end. you might think dew is the menace here, but you'd be wrong. so wrong.

“Snap ‘em,” Dew says, licking his lips. “Snap the—yeah, fuck.”

Aether snaps the latex around his wrists, once, twice. Revels in the shiver that visibly runs up Dew’s spine. His cock drifts upwards towards his stomach, having flagged a bit while the quint ghoul tied each limb to the four posters of his bed frame. But it springs up now, pleasantly plump just from him putting the bright blue medical gloves over his thick hands. 

Dew wriggles against his holds, eyes lidded. “Want ‘em, Aethe,” he begs simply.

“I can see that.” Aether quirks up an eyebrow, idly smoothing his hands together. The gloves make a soft sound as they rub against each other, one that has Dew letting out an undignified whine.

Aether stops moving his hands, chuckling softly. He puts his hands on his hips and looks at Dew, eyes roaming over every inch of ashen skin laid bare for him.

The fire ghoul wriggles again, tossing his head back against the sheets. “Aether,” he groans. 

“You’re cute when you squirm. Why do you like these so much, hm?” He reaches out slowly with one finger, pressing the latex-covered pad to the arch of his foot. He draws a line from Dew’s pointy ankle bone to the inside of his thigh, watching goosebumps rise in its wake. 

“Lucifer, hah–oh,” Dew hisses.

“It’s just my finger.”

“No it’s not.”

Aether rolls his eyes. Trails his finger a little higher. “So what is it, then?” He’s just below the swell of Dew’s skinny thigh, almost to the crease between his leg and his groin. Dangerous territory. 

Dew cranes his neck to see, throat bobbing when he swallows hard. “Feels weird. Good weird.” He keens when Aether puts his entire hand on his thigh, gripping slightly. “Fuck. Like, it’s your hand, but it’s not, and you’re looking at me like—”

“Like what?”

Dew groans, dropping his head back down as Aether’s hand gets closer. “Fu-cking smug and shit,” he says, screwing his eyes shut. His cock kicks in anticipation, and a drop of precum drools down the head of it and falls onto his stomach. “‘S hot.”

Aether lets go of his thigh, moving his hand upward to hover over his cock. Dew tenses and arches up, sensing it there. But the quintessence ghoul moves it too quickly, reaching instead to swipe through the pearl of precum on his skin and catch it on the tip of his glove. 

Dew’s eyes fly open, going exponentially darker when he sees the shine of his own pre on the latex. “Gimme your finger,” he rasps. Kicks his feet against the ropes. “You gotta put it in.”

“Okay, bossy,” Aether smirks, smearing the little bit of fluid onto Dew’s knee. “Just one?” he lilts.

It’s teasing, because he knows Dew wants exactly that. He wants the clinical feel of it all: one finger right where he wants it, just shy of any purposeful stimulation or stretch. A probing more than anything. 

He nods fervently, grasping the ties around his hands. He tries to pull himself up to watch the other ghoul better.  “Yeah, yeah, with the lube.”

Aether grabs the bottle sitting next to Dew’s ribs and squirts a generous amount of the viscous, medical-grade lube onto his middle finger. The stuff sits on the glove, hardly moving as he turns his hand around to show the little ghoul, fingers wiggling. 

Dew groans bodily, bucking his hips up against nothing. 

“Relax,” Aether lilts, half teasing, half soothing—purposefully reminiscent of his usual infirmary bedside manner. He smears the cold gel around Dew’s hole, watching as his face contorts in all sorts of pleasured emotion. Far too excited, really, for one finger. The finger that’s not just a finger. 

He’d tease him for it if he wasn’t so busy making him moan like a whore just by swirling a gloved digit over his rim. 

“Lemme have it, Aethe,” Dew grunts, trying in vain to spear himself on it. His cock wags in the air, more precum slicking down the shaft. “C’mon, you know you wanna stick it in this tight little—ffuuuucking hells yes.”

Aether presses in with ease, sliding home in one motion. He crooks his finger, earning a little gurgling noise and a jerk of the binds from his mate. 

“Running a little hotter than normal,” he comments offhandedly. A nod to the role Dew not-so-secretly wants him to play, clad in a white coat with the sterile smell of rubbing alcohol and disinfectant masking his usual effervescent ozone. It’s a fantasy for another time, another setting. Right now, just the hint of the image—courtesy of the gloves and the timbre of his voice—does a fine job of making him needy and breathless. 

Dew’s cock kicks again, bobbing upwards. “Fuckin’ wiggle it,” he grits out. “Yeah, get in there.” 

“I am. Needy.” Aether huffs.

“Needy for you to touch me,” Dew bites back. “Get that—hah—get that glove on my di-i-ick.” His voice cracks when Aether presses upwards. Petting at that soft spot just inside. 

“Uh huh.” The quintessence ghoul grabs the lube again, flicking it open with his thumb and promptly squeezing out a fat glob right onto his cock. 

“Cold,” Dew hisses. But he bites his lip and looks down with hazy eyes anyway, watching the way the gel glistens in the lamp light. 

“Let me warm it up then,” he rumbles. Aether runs one finger through it first, smearing the lube along the vein that runs down the underside. A shudder runs through Dew’s entire body. He tosses his head back and snaps his tail, arching sharply at the too-light touch. 

“Fuck, Aethe—”

“Shh,” he soothes, still tracing lines over his cock to get it shiny and wet. Swirling through the lube over and over, coating even the tops of his balls and in between the sensitive foreskin. “Let me take care of you.” 

Aether wraps his fingers around him fully, encasing his cock in a slippery latex grip. Dew practically howls, clenching tightly around that one finger and bucking into Aether’s fist.

“Oh Lucifer,” he wails. “Like that, just like—uh-huh-nholy shit.” 

“You don’t have to do any work,” the quintessence ghoul reminds him as he starts to pull at Dew’s cock. “Just lie there and be good for me.”

Dew’s eyes get big then, like a switch going off in his brain. His crooked fangs poke out over his swollen bottom lip as he sucks half of it into his mouth, and he gives Aether a frantic nod. 

“That’s right,” he smiles. “Drop that pretty head back down. There you go.” 

Aether’s smooth tone has Dew’s eyes rolling back with a quiet whimper, a crimson blush seeping down his face and into the hollow of his throat. His toes curl against the sheets, thighs attempting to press together when Aether twists his hand just so. He only succeeds in pulling the binds taught with a reedy whine. Half gone and plenty desperate. 

Aether’s hand slides frictionless along his cock, latex smeared with lube and the precum now steadily leaking out. It’s borderline obscene, the noise it all makes. But the way the slick sound mixes with Dew’s soft noises is some sort of sin all its own—an odd one, sure, with the gloves between them. But it’s an intoxicating sin all the same. 

It’s some time before Dew can even think to speak again. His entire body has stiffened under Aether’s careful ministrations, muscles tensing and cock hard and throbbing in his hand. 

“Ssshhiiittt,” he hisses. “‘M close,” he chokes out, “‘m so fuckin’ close.”

The quint ghoul presses against his prostate just to make him whimper. “Yeah? You’ve done so well, love. Want me to go faster?”

“Uh huh,” Dew whines. “Please, wanna cum on them.” He tosses his head back and forth with a low groan, getting louder the faster Aether strokes him.

“That’s it—”

“Fuck, ‘m gonna—”

“—all the way, cum for me, let me see it—”

“Aethe oh ohfuuuuck—” Dew clenches his hands into fists around the rope and pulls tight, his cock spitting out cum all over his stomach and Aether’s knuckles. He shoots so hard some of it reaches his stiff nipples, little droplets of white coating the shiny silver barbells running through them. He swears incoherently, clenching around the finger in his ass so tightly he nearly pushes it right out. 

“D-don’t stop, don’t fucking stop—” Dew begs, fixing wide eyes on the ghoul above him. He fights them from rolling right back, babbling: “Don’ you fucking stop—Aethe—please.”

“Yeah?” he rasps. The hand still flying over Dew’s cock turns creamy white on the inside of his fist as he milks him for all he’s worth. “Wanna squirt for me?”

Dew chokes on a moan, slipping quickly into overstimulation. “Yes,” he gasps, thrashing his legs. “Make me, fucking make me.”

“All over. All over my hand,” Aether agrees, the idea sending a surge of guilty pleasure right to his core. He tightens his hand, doubling down—just shy of torture, really. And the fire ghoul yelps, face twisted in pleasure-pain, his cheeks turning a bright crimson. 

It only takes a few more calculated jerks of his hand before he squirts, each stroke wringing out a filthy hot stream and a pained groan. Over and over until his voice is raw and his heaving chest is covered in his own mess. 

“Lucifer, stop fuck,” Dew pleads after a long minute, twitching away from Aether’s hand.

“Fuck,” Aether echoes dazedly as he finally pulls out and away from him. He’s quiet for a moment, watching as Dew sags back onto the mattress and sucks in lungfuls of air. Utterly fucked out and wrung dry. He looks down at his fingers, the gloved digits covered in lube, cum, and piss. Then he looks back at the ghoul spread out before him, so beautifully wrecked from just his hands. 

“Wouldn’t take much to get you to cum dry like this, would it?” he asks breathlessly and a little bit giddy.

Dew blinks a few tears away and furrows his brow, dazed and far too fuzzy to process the statement at normal speed. His throat bobs as he tries to re-wet his mouth, the gears in his mind visibly turning and clicking into place. “Shit, Aether, what?” he slurs.

Aether’s mouth twitches up in a momentary smirk. He presses that gloved finger back against his rim, making him squirm against the binds. “Here. If I just . . . gave you one more. Could you cum like that?”

The fire ghoul looks at him, eyes nearly black with how much his pupils are blown out. He can only whimper, craning his neck down to watch Aether’s hand move against his hole. Slow, deliberate. Tantalizing. He presses back in, only as far as the first knuckle. When he wiggles it a bit, Dew’s eyebrows quirk up in the middle, and he nods with his gaze fixed firmly on Aether’s hands. 

“Let’s try it, then.”

[dirtybg3confessions]

Confession: You all think piss confessions are intense??? I can't name the shit I'd let Gortash do to me without traumatizing all of you. That man can GET IT.

[mis4dv3nture]

cw: piss

so, you guys have probably already seen things like this but

rain taking care of phantom all day, reminding him to drink water

oh, lil bug just thinks he's so sweet, he often forgets to drink and rain just wants him to stay hydrated, isn't he adorable?

his ass does NOT know what is coming for him

don't get him wrong, rain really cares for his health

but he's mostly doing this to watch how cute his lil bug is as he pisses himself when, later that evening, he fucks him with his back against the mattress

just saying

[professor-venturer-mod]

Hollywood's become a joke at this point.

[venusandsaturnsrings]

c-c-childe piss kink?

childe piss kink 4eva n always <3 idk he just gives me piss kink vibes n i can’t help but be down astronomically bad 4 it…

he’s a sadomasochist. anything that brought either of you pain or discomfort had him popping a raging boner within seconds. not only that but he’d do anything if it meant marking and claiming you as his. you’re his lover, bitch, and property.

ajax is biased towards omorashi and pissing inside of you. he loves the overwhelming feeling of controlling your every function and making you his in every sense of the word. on the days this was his strongest desire, he’d often pour drink after drink down your throat ranging from water to sweet liquor; anything that filled you up. he’d coo and praise you for taking it all down so well for him. when you start squirming and complaining he’d wear his signature teasing grin while mocking you for being so needy and disgusting. he loves the tears that well up in your eyes in response to such remarks. ajax knows your body very well and upon getting the sense that you were close to pissing yourself, he’d pull you onto his lap and use one hand to rub your hip while the other pushed down on your bladder. you’d wail and whine over the feeling until you couldn’t take it anymore and soaked through both of your undergarments with little sobs and apologies for being so gross. ajax would chuckle and toss such remarks as, ‘awh, couldn’t hold it even a bit longer?,’ or, ‘my, you’ve made such a mess! those panties you have on are new too.’ anything to make you get all shy and avoid his lustful gaze. not to worry though, he’d be so sweet on you for trying so hard for him. he thinks you’re adorable when you simply can’t handle anymore of what he dishes out.

when he was in the mood to piss inside of you, he’d always be extra rough and mean in the lead up. he’d often call you a whore and a slut or anything else degrading he felt in the mood for. pissing inside of you was certainly intimate and he preferred to hold you close when he would. ajax loves feeling it all spurt out of your well used cunt in the aftermath. <3

[melon-cream-enmu]

Tw: piss

Need denji in my mouth. Need him to cum hard and lots cuz it feels so good and then pee in my mouth cuz he’s all overwhelmed and cum brained, and then cum in my mouth again from how warm and wet it is and how my tongue still strokes him even after he pissed in my mouth

[azcatgoesmeow]

Minors look away Enver Gortash posting below

•You CANNOT tell me that Gortash doesn’t like to piss on people. Just look at him piss kink trash man fake dom energy.

•He looks like the guy that would be like “ready for me to rock your world?” And then do the most mediocre sex.

•He could be the poster boy for bad bdsm etiquette.

•Gortash is going the type of guy that would fuck you until you can’t think and then ASK if you need aftercare 💀

…all that being said though he can still piss on me 👉🏼👈🏼

[dirtybg3confessions]

Confession:

Gortash has a piss kink, and no one can convince me otherwise. Having someone piss in his lap is probably the sexiest thing to him, what a filthy little man whore

[ignisknight01]

*Strolls into Cappy Town pushing a wagon full of filled plastic bottles*

Piss for sale!

Get your hot and freshly squeezed piss here!

Perfect for falsely passing drug tests and practical jokes!

Buy two get one free!

Come and buy my piss bottles!

[podplease]

[maggoochie]

i love that pissing yourself while lifting weights is rarely a negative thing. like "YEA UR CORE WAS SO TIGHT WHILE PUSHING AGAINST LARGE MASS THAT YOUR PELVIC FLOOR MUSCLES PUSHED ON YOUR BLADDER, OF COURSE U PISSED URSELF LETS FUCKIN GOOOOOOOOOOOOOO"