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animeyanderelover · 7 months ago

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Hi! For my 2nd request can I please request Yandere hcs for Narusaku , Nalu and Yato (naruto , fairy tail and Noragami ) , Luffy and Ace (one piece ) , Maka and black star (soul eater ) with a female darling that escapes and has a child with someone else👀 please (if that’s to many you can get rid of of soul eater ones sorry about that ^^)

please 🙏 also hope your doing ok and drinking plenty of water !! 💗

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, clinginess, guilt-tripping, manipulation, threats

Tags: @shumidehiro @swagenemyartisan @cachamata

Darling escapes and has a child with someone else

Uzumaki Naruto & Haruno Sakura

🍜🌸Escaping those two would be quite a difficult achievement considering that Naruto is the Hokage and Sakura helps him quite a lot considering that she has experience assissting the leader of a village as her mentor used to be the Fifth Hokage. As the darling of those two there is obviously going to be some security involved as neither of those two would be careless enough to assume that even with the dawn of a more peaceful era everything will be safe for you. They aren't as oppressing as some other characters would be though which leaves some holes and cracks that their darling can potentially exploit to plot her escape. Both have their busy days working after all which is arguably going to be your best shot to flee. News still reach their ears very fast though. For Sakura reality settles in faster than for Naruto though as he is much more delusional than she is. The Seventh Hokage is vehemently denying reality as he tries to argue with the Anbu who delivered the news to him that they must have overlooked something. You wouldn't leave Sakura and him behind. You love both of them after all. This-this was supposed to be the beginning of a new era where you could be happy with him and her.

🍜🌸Over and over again he denies their words even as tears start evading his vision. It's Sakura who finally puts the dagger through his heart as she cannot bear to watch one of her oldest friends going through such desperate denial. Her voice is stern and firm as sh cuts Naruto off, only the slightest shiver in her breath betraying her composure as she tells him that you have run away on your own accord. It's the shimmer of hurt in her own green eyes that finally end in Naruto breaking out in tears and seeing him in this state results in Sakura dismissing all the other Anbu in the room. She ends up staying with him for the entirety of his emotional breakdown, her own defenses weakening until she too starts crying now that there is no reason for her to pretend to be alright anymore. The question of why you ran away and what he and Sakura could have done better to make you stay haunt Naruto as he searches for you the following years. He works tirelessly each day, desperately hoping to find you with each new dawn and ask you himself what he needs to do to fix this situation. Sakura scolds him for neglecting his health but truth is that she herself isn't holding up to her lectures either.

🍜🌸As soon as you are found Naruto insists that Sakura and him should be the ones talking to you. He wants answers. He needs answers. For the first time in years though he feels a semblance of happiness again with the prospect that you have finally been found and with a new determination to repair the situation between you three so that things can return the way he always perceived them within his mind. That smile of relief and joy crumbles though when he spots you with the child and its father whilst Sakura can only stare, feeling hurt and betrayed. Yes, she knows that sometimes her and Naruto can be too much but that doesn't change the fact that both of them love you dearly. Naruto ends up shedding silent tears this time though, unable to deny this situation right in front of him. Instead he asks you with a heartbroken look in his eyes if Sakura and him weren't enough for you and if they could have done anything differently so that this all never would have happened. His blue eyes only fill with some semblance of rage when they meet the gaze of the father of your child. After all in his mind there is no one who could love you as much as Sakura and him could.

🍜🌸There is some part within both of their hearts that considers for one short moment to take you and the child and leave the man behind. However, neither of those two is able to do that. Sakura has seen enough orphaned children after the war to know how they feel when losing a parent and Naruto himself grew up without any parents to begin with. So begrudgingly he decides to take the unfamiliar man with him though he ignores him the entire time when he talks to you, wanting to tell you about all the advances that were made during your absence. Whilst the father of your child isn't murdered as neither of them would be that cold-hearted, pressure is on and Naruto and Sakura subtly fuel that. After all in the eyes of every citizen an ordinary guy could harldy compare to two heroes from the Leaf Village. Your partner is constantly judged which takes its toll on him over time. Additionally Sakura suggests to keep him busy with work so that Naruto and her can inser themselves into your life as well as the life of your child more. That child has never been hated after all as both just decide wordlessly to love them as their own child and both of them are terrifyingly good with your kid.

Natsu Dragneel & Lucy Heartfilia

🔥🗝️There is a higher degree of freedom involved with those two unless it is an absolute emergency. Natsu and Lucy are much more harmless in comparison to some other options within the Fairy Tail cast. That doesn't mean by any means that it is an easy walk to escape those two. Natsu's enhanced smell which allows him to track you down, Happy who can fly through the skies to search for you, all their friends who would tell them if you were gone and the fact that both of them very rarely leave you alone. Natsu in particular is very clingy and loves spending time with you and Lucy whilst Lucy at the very least understands the need for privacy, aware that her friend can be very clingy. Still, with a little bit of planning and begging you will find a way to slip away, to be left alone long enough for you to get away from their love which can be a bit too smothering at times. When they realise that you're gone they panic but decide to search for you first with a lot of other guild members helping them. They search and search for hours, their hopes fading with every tick of the clock. Lucy is the first one who starts crying. Natsu attempts to cheer her up, to stay positive but his own tears betray him.

🔥🗝️Still, both of them try to never lose hope to find you one day again. They start going on missions in different regions to search for you, both of them sometimes gone for weeks in their tireless quest to find you and bring you back. Optimism sometimes gives away to despair when all gets too much. Truth is that neither one of those two fully understands why you felt the need to escape from them. Lucy may bear some small semblance of understanding as she is half-lucid at least but she knows that Natsu and her always loved you with all their hearts and always only ever treated you with their best. Natsu on the other hand feels the need to be strong whenever he sees someone so incredibly close to his heart faltering, trying to stay strong and positive whilst reassuring Lucy that surely there is an explanation and that everything will turn back to the way it used to be as soon as they have found you. The more time passes though the more taxing it becomes for them as well as their emotions. The usual liveliness that normally surrounds them slowly gets sucked out as Natsu even loses his usual energy to brawl with Gray and Gajell, an alarming sign for the rest of the guild.

🔥🗝️The moment they receive a clue about your possible whereabouts they drop everything immediately and travel to the place where you are supposed to live. Lucy is a tad bit more anxious than Natsu is as she fears that you'll reject them the moment you see both of them, Natsu attempts to remain positive like he has always done those last few years. Even within all of his optimism that things will turn out alright between the three of you, the moment he catches a whiff of your scent he already knows what has happened long before the man appears behind you with the small child in his arms. In that moment even he is unable to come up with a light-hearted spin to the sight in front of him all whilst Lucy does her best to swallow back her tears as this sight indirectly confirms her fear of you having moved on from both of them. Ultimately you as well as your lover and the baby are taken back to the guild and the whole way back Natsu doesn't know how to feel nor to act. The scent of someone else clings to you and every whiff he takes renews that pain within his heart. He confesses his inner conflict to Lucy with clenched teeth and a trembling voice who does her best to comfort him.

🔥🗝️Peer pressure is very likely in this scenario as well though to a lesser degree. Still, for the entire guild it is a shocking truth dropped on them when they find out that you have had a child with someone else during the years you were gone and there are some whispered words behind your back, some salty slander against the man you chose. The child is almost immediately welcomed though, even by Natsu and Lucy. In fact the kiddo is so often whisked away by someone within the guild that at one point you don't even know where they are until they return giggling with some of the mages of the guild. They grow very quickly attached to the people within the guild which is a nightmare to you, especially Lucy and Natsu spend a lot of time with your kid. You have a hard time explaining to your kid why you do not wish for them to be too close to those two because even you realise that Natsu and Lucy aren't neccessarily bad people, wondering how much your child would understand even if you were to explain everything to them. Natsu never fully learns how to act around the father either, weirdly more possessive and most likely a lot more reckless around that man without injuring him.

Yato

🪙Perhaps it is quite amusing that there is a literal God obsessing over you yet you still have a realistic chance to escape him. Yato isn’t like other gods, he doesn’t have a big palace in the other realm where he could keep you. He needs to earn his money and for that he takes every job offered to him. The poor man is struggling and that is the main reason why you have a shot at escaping him. If you remember to do so that is as you often tend to forget Yato if he’s gone for too long until he returns and the subconscious memories return. Yato, painfully aware of this fact, is all the more clingy as a result. He hates being forgotten, it could literally kill him to be forgotten. But if there is one person he wishes to remember him forever then it would be you, his darling. You plan everything though. A new phone, a suitcase, a ticket to fly abroad as you fear that as a deity of Japan you’d never be free as long as you live here. Then you’re gone. And Yato is left alone as not even the words of Hiyori and Yukine can comfort him. Instead he wishes to be by himself, is gone for days without anyone knowing where he is. He wanders through the city, searching for you as he feels like withering away.

🪙It is likely that some other deities offer him their help. Kofuku volunteers to help in the search for you as she is a very close friend of Yato. Hiyori asks around your neighborhood if anyone is any information about your current whereabouts. Even Kazuma and Bishamon decide to give their helping hands and keep their eyes open for you. Hiyori is the most successful of them all yet the news she delivers are only fuel to the growing pit in his stomach. You’ve gone abroad. You’re no longer in Japan and as a deity created in this land Yato is bound to it. He cannot follow you to the place that you went. He falls into another depressive hole after the news, doesn’t feel motivated to earn his coins as he just spends his time silently drowning in his heartbreak. Deep down he understands why you decided to escape from him, at least partially. Both of you are of completely different worlds and he knows how overbearing he tends to be. But can you blame him? Always, without a fail, he is the one left behind in the past, damned to be forgotten. He just didn’t want you, the one person his heart has learned to love, to erase him from your mind. But now that you’re gone it’ll inevitably happen. Truly, his fate is one marked with misery.

🪙Sometimes he feels like giving in to his defeatism. To just wait until he too evaporates like some other deities before him did. However, it isn’t within his character to give up. His friends wouldn’t let him get tempted by his sorrow either as they drag him out, push him forward so he doesn’t stay behind. So Yato tries to move on yet a forever existence entails that the pain will forever live in his heart, heavy chains around his soul that steal the liveliness of his personality. It is hard for him to keep dreaming about millions of followers and a big shrine as the core of his dreams has disappeared just like that. Each year that passes reminds him of your fleeting human life, of your lifespan burning away like a candle. Until you one day return. A few years older yet still beautiful. It could have been a truly magical moment if it wouldn’t have been for the man next to you and the little child clinging to you. A bitter taste rots on his tongue, a wave of jealous despair washes over him as he gazes at the child you have with this man and it isn’t until Yukine points it out to him that Yato realizes that he has started crying. Hot tears spill down his pale cheeks, the betrayal stinging so terribly as he suddenly rushes over to you.

🪙The confused glimmer in your eyes almost threatens to break him as he begs for you to remember him. It takes you a minute of sheer agony that threatens to tip him over the edge until suddenly your eyes widen. There’s panic and horror but at least you now recognise him. That’s enough. For now at least. However, things have only just begun. In the years you have been gone you have birth to a child, a visible reminder of the passage of time. To Yato a human life burns away like a firework, gone in the blink of an eye. Fearful to lose you to your own mortality as well, he’s decided to search for ways to bind your lifespan to his own so that you may never wither away like a flower in fall. However, your child and your lover will not receive such a gift from him. Yato won’t harm them simply because he understands that they will pass away within the next few decades whilst you will remain by his side. Both of them will naturally leave your side so there is no reason for him to speed things up. Sometimes he does feel like threatening your lover out of jealousy and insecurity but he holds back. He feels sorry for the child though, he quite likes the kid even though he isn’t the father. However, unfortunately he can only tie his life to one other person.

Maka Albarn

💚Maka is of a sharp mind and filled with the quiet determination to be someone better than her father who never was a loyal husband to her mother. As strong as she may appear, she carries lots of insecurities but refuses to let everyone in on it as she wishes to prove herself. It's precisely because she knows that you do not think well of her that she keeps all of her own thoughts to herself as she understands that you wouldn't want to hear about her thoughts and feelings in your current dilemma. There's is the feeling of an invisible cliff between the two of you, one that silently torments you yet you are far too fearful to tell Maka who manages to intimidate her with her closed-off behavior. Maka does none of it by a malicious intention though as she instead assumes that perhaps giving you more time to get adjusted to her feelings for you and allowing herself to digest the fact that you actually figured her out will result in a slightly more positive outcome than what the both of you are currently facing. When something is troubling her she tends to throw herself into training, meaning that poor Soul has to endure rigorous hours of training with her as she attempts to focus on something else.

💚It is the methods she uses to deal with her own problems that gives you the optimal chance to escape. Maka is left feeling like a fool when she has to accept the truth that you fled from her. She knows that her feelings aren't within the norm and she herself is more ashamed than anyone else could ever be of that fact. Yet at the very least she believes that she has never treated you cruelly or neglected you so terribly for others like her own father did to her mother. Still you left and leaves her mind reeling as she wonders if there is something that she has done, something so terrible that you felt the need to sneak away during her absence. For weeks on end she goes through every little interaction between the two of you that she is able to recall as she desperately tries to figure out what it is that repulsed you so much to the point where you left without leaving any trace behind. Her own mental fortress receives great shots, greatly damaged by the end of it yet still stable enough to hold itself together one way or another. That bitter and slimy feeling of failure is embedded within her heart though as she can't shake the thought off that in a way she has exactly become like her father.

💚Maka deals with her troubles and her own pain the same way she has always done though, by throwing herself into attempting to improve herself and become a better person. Yet no matter what she achieves from that day on it never feels like it is enough to her as the thought of her being a failure that scared you away is forever engraved into her soul. Deep down she craves an explanation from you to know what it is that she should have done better so that she can improve. So that she doesn't end up like her father. But she doesn't know where you are. No one does which only leaves the little maggots of insecurities to blossom within her heart, filling every crevice of her body. When she spots you one day again in the company of a man and a little child she just freezes, her eyes staring at you. Her face remains stoic but her own heart starts racing within her just as much as her mind as so many emotions threaten to spill out that she doesn't even know where to begin and where to stop. The yearning to hear your explanation, to understand exactly why you ran away fills her but at the sight of the family you created she immediately closes her heart.

💚Immaturity is something she would much rather have to be associated with her father and not herself but she has to admit that it is incredibly difficult to hold back her own bitterness. She knows that you never loved her, that you never promised her anything which is why she can't possibly consider this as cheating. A broken heart is rarely soothed by such logical explanations though. Her tone is arctic, her eyes are sharp and her entire demeanor is harsh whenever she is left alone with your lover. Green eyes are constantly inspecting him with a piercing glance, desperately wanting to figure out what it is about this man that made you fall in love with him as it is what she seems to lack. To your kid she is still quite nice though she stirs somewhat away as she feels awkward and uncomfortable whenever it hits her that this child is the result of your love for another person. At the very least she is mature enough to not show any hostility towards the kid though but this is hardly something she feels like she can be proud of. Part of her heart aches to question you why she isn't enough for you but another part of her is terrified to reveal such neediness and vulnerability to you.

Black Star

⭐To Black Star the idea of you running away from him is something he is either going to laugh about as a bad joke or get in a brawl over if he is in a bad mood that day. As someone who is quite heavily on the delusional side it is not hard to see why he would never consider such a thing though. In his mind he is after all the only one capable of loving you and protecting you and he is very fierce with this conviction. That is exactly the problem that you have with him though. He is far too much for you, suffocating and smothering with his behavior all because he wishes to impress you and prove to you that he is the only one for you. You've been planning to escape for quite a while already but it is kind of hard due to Black Star's clinginess as he insists that as your hero he should always be with you as dangers may lurk around every corner. As bad as it makes you feel, you realise that you will have to use Tsubaki for your plans if you wish to flee as she is always the one who pulls him away from you and allows you to breathe whenever his clinginess gets too much for you. So you grit your teeth and endure everything for a bit longer until you sense your chance when Tsubaki wants to do you a favor.

⭐It honestly doesn't even cross his mind at first that you fled. Instead he instantly assumes that you were abducted during his absence and instantly starts rummaging through your house, leaving more chaos behind than the supposed abductor of yours. It is Tsubaki who points out that your clothes are gone, that your hygiene products are nowhere to be found and that a suitcase of yours is gone. She has already figured out what has most likely happened but it is Black Star who stays in vehement denial. You'd never run away from him after all. He is after all your personal hero who will always protect you and keep you safe. So Tsubaki forces herself to stay quiet even if only out of empathy as she follows him around as he runs through the entire village and questions everyone. When more and more answers pile up hinting at your leave by free will his rejection and denial of their words get more serious. Maybe you were blackmailed and that person forced you to leave! Maybe there was an urgent emergency that happened spontanously whic forced you to leave abruptly! All of it are excuses to deny the reality so that he has some lie he can cling to. When Tsubaki tries to stop him from his tireless search he actually snaps at her to not touch him.

⭐Without a doubt he would break down if he were forced to face the reality that you never once viewed him as your hero that he always wanted to be for you. His whole world would shatter and would leave him questioning who he even is supposed to be. That cannot happen which is why even throughout the years following after your years he always believes that something must have happened to you, that someone took you away from him. The ninja travels far and wide all in his desperation to find you and rescue you. When he eventually finds you in company with a man his brain immediately jumps to the conclusion that this is the person who must have been keeping you forcefully all those years. With a flashy and loud introduction that is so typical for him he announces to the villain that he is now here and that he will rescue you from the man's evil clutches. Only that Tsubaki refuses to transform, shaking her head as Black Star tells her to turn into a weapon so that he can save you. So caught up in his own fantasy of finally rescuing you and receiving your gratitude and love in return has he been up to that point that he notices the child far too late.

⭐With so much evidence one would think that he would finally falt, that he would finally understand that you were never taken away against your will but left because you didn't love him and wanted to escape his tight grasp. Black Star is far too gone within his own delusions to ever accept such a reality though where he would lose a purpose he has always thought was designed specifically for him when it came to you. So instead he starts believing that the man must have manipulated and hypnotised you as there can be no other explanation to why you wouldn't rush into his arms and express how relieved you are that he has finally found you. It is this delusion that fuels him with an anger that you have never seen before in him as he suddenly challenges the man to a life-or-death match. Tsubaki is horrified, you are horrified but Black Star refuses to back down. He will have his revenge, he will save you from the clutches of this man who has done something to your mind and heart. And after he has done that he will take the kid and you back with him and help you to return to your old self. The child deserves a father who isn't a bad person and who would be better suited than him for that?

Monkey D. Luffy

🍖Luffy is going to be surprisingly difficult to escape from for two reasons. The first reason is his insane clinginess as he so rarely leaves you alone. For Luffy there is no joy greater than spending time together with the people that he loves, especially when it is you that he spends time with. Every waking and sleeping hour he is pretty much glued to your hips and this slowly takes its toll on you as you just wish to be left alone for one fucking day which seems to be about impossible for Luffy do. Wherever he goes he drags you with him with the rare exception of when there is something dangerous happening. The second reason of why it is going to be so difficult to escape him is because of his crew. Whilst it is to some members of the Strawhat crew obvious that Luffy's feelings aren't exactly within the acceptable bounty the fact remains that all of them are loyal to Luffy which makes you extremely cautious to choose any allies out of fear that they'd stop you or tell Luffy. The most ironic of it all is that Luffy is surprisingly emotionally intelligent. He realises that there is something that eats you up alive on the inside but he is too delusional to recognise that he is the cause.

🍖The situation presents itself spontanously to you, the circumstances somewhat low which does cause you to be mildly ashamed. It is during a rather ferocious fight that you decide to sneak away and leave the crew behind as everyone is busy with their opponent. Everyone is too preoccupied with their respective fight to notice your absence. It is only once the worst is over that the crew starts noticing that you are missing. When Luffy finally returns with a grin on his face, wanting to smooch you after that difficult battle he is only met with the guilty faces of the others. Initial confusion is pretty soon met with a very bad feeling crawling up his throat as he realises that amongst his crewmates you aren't present. His mind instantly jumps to the worst conclusions of you either being killed or kidnapped. There is no time for those who most likely have the inkling suspicion already to tell him what has most likely happened as he instantly begs them to help him to search for you, to find you. What if you're hurt?? They spend days searching for you on the island and once it is concluded that you're no longer on the island Luffy starts to openly sob. Where are you?

🍖On every island they stop he keeps searching for you in hopes of finding you, still in firm belief that someone must have taken you. This belief of his makes every day that passes so much more painful to him. If they took you why aren't they trying to get in contact with him and his crew? What is it that they want? Robin, Nami and even Sanji attempt to softly deliver their own suspicions to him but Luffy refuses to listen. After all he remembers your amazement whenever you explored a new island or the laughter you shared with the crew so clearly. Your joy wasn't fake! He isn't even sure if he still wants to find the One Piece as it wouldn't feel right if you aren't there with him. It takes a long couple of years before his crew finally finds you through a tip of another pirate crew, on a secluded island. Luffy lands on the island already mentally prepared to fight someone, to rescue you together with his crew after years of being stolen away from him. Instead he finds you laughing, spinning around a little kid in your arms with a man by your side. It is only when you spot him that he notices the clear fear on your face, his hands suddenly starting to shake. Why are you scared...? It's him...

🍖It's the usage of a Devil Fruit, right? That's why you're acting so scared of him. Without him even realising it he starts letting his Conqueror Haki slip out, your husband and child instantly fainting all whilst you start feeling dizzy. It takes Zoro to pretty much bark at him to stop what he is doing to snap him out of it, catching you just in time as you fall down as you have just lost all strength in your knees. The last thing you remember is the feeling of his tears on your face as he promises you with a shaky voice that he will find out what happened to you before you too succumb to your unconsciousness. When you wake up you instantly realise that you're on the Thousand Sunny, the feeling of a warm hand clutching you tightly smacking reality into your face. When you weakly turn your head around you notice Luffy sitting next to you, giving you a weak grin as he asks you how you're feeling. You instantly want to know where your child and your husband are, noticing the hurt in Luffy's eyes before he nods and leads you outside. Your child is currently climbing up Franky's robotic body, their eyes filled with amazement whilst your husband sits with Robin, casting you a fearful glance when he notices you...

Portgas D. Ace

❤️‍🔥Ace is a little bit better off than his younger brother is in regards to his delusional tendencies but that doesn't mean by a long shot that he is completely lucid. He's somewhere in the middle of the spectrum as he is half-half when it comes to the question of how delusional he is. One thing he definitely shares with Luffy though is his suffocating clinginess that becomes more and more apparent the more he falls into his obsession. The reason for it is very different though. Whilst Luffy spends so much time with you because he just loves being together with you, Ace's motives root more from his deep-rooted desperation to find a meaning to his life. As the son of Roger from the youngest age he has always perceived himself as someone the world doesn't want to exist and throughout his whole life he has always struggled to find a reason for why he has the right to live, for why he deserves to be here. One way or another you are made a scapegoat of those insecurities as Ace pours his heart out to you, clings to you as if you can provide him with answers by staying with him and loving him. It's taxing on your own mentality which is why you decide to escape as long as he hasn't introduced you to Whitebeard yet.

❤️‍🔥You know that as soon as he would introduce you to one of the Four Emperors you would have no chance to flee so as long as you are still living on your island you decide to use the chance, secretly spiking his drink and watching with a mild amount of guilt as he falls asleep. Ace panics as soon as he wakes up and doesn't feel your warmth next to him, his body instantly jolting awake, his heart already throbbing with cold terror. He spends the next few minutes frantically sprinting through every room, calling your name with more and more desperation only to be greeted with a haunting silence. Eventually he slides down against the wall, his vision blurry and his breaths quick and short as he gasps desperately for air. His hands start trembling uncontrollably, hot tears start cascading down his face and heartbroken sobs tear through the oppressing silence, his heart palpations echoing loudly within his own head as he feels like he's about to die. He needs thirty minutes before he feels like he has enough strength again to stand up, slowly returning to your room and rummaging through your shelves before he breaks out into a fresh set of tears when he realises that your clothes are gone.

❤️‍🔥You left him. Of course you did. What was he even thinking, believing that someone as wonderful as you would ever find it in your heart to love someone as unwanted as him? A part of Ace believes that it is justified. After all he is still capable enough to realise that his love for you has always been very obsessive so perhaps he was just never good enough for you to begin with. None of that quells the wriggly desperation and longing for you though. The truth is that he is in misery without you and everyone notices that. Every time something reminds him of you he is right back into the throes of a panic attack, his mind not under his control as he confesses in between sobs to Marco one day what is tormenting him so much. That's how Whitebeard finds out, that's how the Whitebeard Pirates get involved. And that is how you are found eventually. Ace, as impulsive as ever, instantly hops on his Striker to sail to the island where you have apparently been living for a few years, not even letting Marco finish his explanation. Perhaps he should have just stayed still and listened for once. Maybe then he wouldn't have felt like dying when seeing you in the arms of another man.

❤️‍🔥Anger. Hot, burning anger just like the flames that he wields. Fire starts erupting from his skin, coating his fists in searing flames as his chest is heaving. For one terrifying moment it looks like he is about to attack the man, already taking the first steps to charge at him until you appear right in front of him, pushing him away. Ace stumbles back, eyes wide and shocked as he gazes at you. Then his eyes finally land on the child, eyes just like yours staring back at him. The tears welling up in their eyes as they look at him finally completely push him over the edge. In the next moment he's down on his knees, clutching at your clothes as he starts sobbing. Every time you attempt to push him away he lets out a hoarse whine, only resulting in his hold on you tightening. Meanwhile the other man has seemed to have gathered enough courage to approach Ace, wanting to defend you only to stagger back in terror when he notices the tattoo on his back. That's when a sudden realisation occurs to Ace. You never told him with whom you were together in the past. He could threaten this man to stay away from you unless he wants to deal with Whitebeard. He could just take you. And the child.

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mitsua · 23 days ago

Text

ORANGE BOY

synopsis: about the characters who are acidic but also sweet when loved right (0.78k) a/n: this post is for the characters who don't really know at first how to show their love for their partner, who crave something really deep inside them but do not know what it really is.

he swears he loves you, and he really does, but it's just so difficult to show it he wants to burst way too often.

whenever you grab his face between your delicate hands and look at him with those big doe eyes of yours—he swears he's seen heaven. he doesn't know what to do, so he merely stares back, which you take it as a sign that it doesn't bothers him much, so you stand there, blinking at each other—wherever it is that you are, the living room, an empty room, a crowded space—it just seems as if everyone and everything disappears leaving just you two in there.

whenever you kiss his cheek or forehead unexpectedly, his face will stay redder and warmer for the rest of the day. and you notice, of course you do—he thinks. you might or might not, whatever, you just wanted to show him you love him for the nth time of the day. and he still doesn't know how to correspond to that. so he might retaliate with a weak 'the hell do you think you're doin'?' and remain unmoving, 'cause he wants to save some pride, not throw away your relation by thinking he didn't really like it.

when you hug him, he fights so hard against himself to try and move his suddenly frozen in place arms. he craves your warmth, but he doesn't know how to keep it, to ask for it, to reach you. 'cause as much as he'd like to act as if he is the best in everything and everytime, he feels you're way out of his league just by you're kindness.

when you tell him you love him is when he really gets the angriest at himself, because after everything you've been through, he knows he wants to say it back, he really does. but his sharp tongue keeps him quiet. (something surprising for someone who might always be bickering back). he keeps quiet and he hates it. he wants to confess how much he loves you too, to say he might even love you more than you love him. but he still doesn't know how to say it.

but you understand. you understood since you saw how he behaved with everyone around him when you first met him. you understood since you saw how he began to behave when he was around you—which was way different from what you've ever witnessed. and you love him for that.

you know he is different when he is around you because he tries to be his most true self with you, no stupid barriers imposed by peer pressure nor uncalled for comments everytime you say something that might come out as dumb every now and then.

so when you grab his face, give him unexpected kisses on his cheek or forehead, hug him and tell him you love him, you hope he understands what you mean. because as much as he doesn't know how to reach for your warmth, you want to show him you'll still be there for him for as long as he needs. until he reciprocates, until the day he'll do those things to you by himself, until he says 'i love you too', back.

it isn't until the day your first kiss on the lips happens that you realize he's changed for good.

you didn't ask for it, you didn't exactly initiate it, he didn't show his intentions to do so either.

so to say both of you were caught off guard when he finally did it it's understandable. none of you expected it.

but it felt so damn right he might have thought it was ilegal.

he felt relieved yet thrilled, in place yet so dispersed. it was something he never thought of doing with anyone, yet he thought about days about how much he wanted to kiss you.

when he retreated to look at your face after the kiss, he saw it. he saw the brightness in your eyes get more intense with feelings he still didn't understand fully, but he understood you knew this was his way of reciprocating all your loving from before.

you were both speechless, but your eyes held so much emotions there was no need for words.

as you grabbed his shoulder and his neck with your other hand, a questioning look appeared on his face until he felt your lips on his for a second time.

now that he had started, you didn't want to stop.

because this boys, the ones who have the most difficult behaviour at first, the most bittersweet evil grins of all—are the ones who fall the hardest and turn into the most lovable, cute and confused sweet oranges of all when loved right.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶⊹︶︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

i'm thinking about... katsuki bakugo (bnha), megumi fushiguro (jjk), haruka sakura (wbk), shin asakura (sakamoto days), ciel phantomhive (black butler), gabimaru tsuki (hell's paradise), saiki kusuo (saiki k), inosuke hashibira (demon slayer), hayato kamitani (gakuen babysitters), toru sakuragi (the yakuza's guide to babysitting), kenma kozume (hq!), shouei barou, jingo raichi, seishiro nagi (bllk) and whoever else comes to your mind!

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶⊹︶︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

do you like this kind of characters? let me know your opinions! (๑ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵) ♡

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hearts0hearts · 2 months ago

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𝐵𝓁𝒶𝒸𝓀𝒸𝒶𝓉!𝒮𝒶𝓈𝓊𝓀𝑒 x 𝒢𝑜𝓁𝒹𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒𝓉𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇!𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

Summary; Instead of joining the others at the hot springs, Sasuke gravitates back to your quiet little farm, where he knows you’ll greet him with warmth he doesn’t know how to ask for.

A/N; reader is afab! fem!reader, gentle confession, hurt/comfort Words; ~ 900 matching headcanons

He hadn’t meant to end up at your farm.

Really.

Team 7 had just returned from a taxing mission, tracking a missing-nin through rough terrain, bad weather, and not nearly enough food. Kakashi, for once, suggested rest. Naruto begged for the hot springs. Sakura agreed. Sasuke, however, slipped away the moment no one was watching.

His body ached. His shirt was torn at the shoulder, a gash beneath it hastily bandaged back at camp. His hair clung to his temple with dried sweat, and he was sure he looked miserable.

But his feet had brought him here, to the outer edge of the peaceful village. To your farm.

And he hated to admit it, but he had hoped, just a little, you’d still be there.

You were.

Sasuke watched from beneath the shade of a nearby tree. The sun caught the strands of your hair as you leaned over a trough to fill it with fresh water. Your clothes were smudged with hay and dirt, your cheeks flushed from the warmth of the late afternoon, a little flower tucked behind your ear. You looked… happy. Unbothered. The animals wandered lazily around you, clearly at peace.

And when you finally spotted him, his silhouette leaning slightly against the wooden fence, you beamed so brightly that Sasuke felt it behind his ribs.

"Sasuke-kun?" you gasped, dropping the bucket you were holding. "You're back!"

Before he could blink, you were jogging toward him, arms open… not to hug, no, not yet, but as if your whole body welcomed him. Sasuke stood stiffly, unsure what to do with his hands as you stopped just short of touching him. "You're hurt," you whispered, gaze softening as you took in the bloodstained sleeve, the dirt along his jaw.

"It's nothing," he muttered.

You frowned disapprovingly. " 'Nothing' needs cleaning!" You gestured toward the farmhouse with a tilt of your head, already stepping aside to let him follow. "Come in, I'll help you!"

Sasuke hesitated. He should say no. He should be going back to the inn, or at least to rest somewhere alone.

Instead, he followed the sunshine.

Inside, your little home smelled of bread and herbs. It was warm in a way he wasn’t used to.

You guided him to sit on a bench near the open window, digging through a cupboard until you found a cloth and a small jar of ointment.

"Take your shirt off."

He blinked. "What?"

"So I can clean the wound," you said innocently, wringing the cloth out in a bowl of clean water.

He complied, tugging the ruined material over his head with a wince.

You frowned again. "You really shouldn't be pushing yourself so hard,"

"I'm fine."

"You’re stubborn."

"...hn"

Your fingers were gentle as they dabbed at the wound, careful not to press too hard. He watched your face as you worked, lips pressed together, eyes focused. The gold of the setting sun spilled across your features and made you look like you belonged in a painting. Something soft. Beautiful.

"I missed you," you said suddenly.

Sasuke’s breath caught.

You didn’t seem to notice the way his shoulders stiffened, or if you did, you didn’t let it stop you. You dipped the cloth into the water again and wrung it out slowly.

Sasuke looked away, lips pressed into a thin line. He wasn’t good with things like this, soft words, open feelings.

But you always said what you meant. Always wore your heart out in the open.

He couldn’t understand how someone like you existed.

You leaned back, satisfied with your work. The bandage was neat, and the ointment already smelled of healing.

When your eyes met his again, they held something softer. Something braver.

"I was really happy when I met you, y'know? You were all cold and moody, and still are… but I don’t know… I could tell you weren’t a bad person."

Sasuke stayed silent. Not because he disagreed. But because it was true.

You leaned your head a little, smiling softly this time. "Do you think I’m annoying?"

He looked at you.

Then looked away.

Then, back again.

"...No."

You blinked. "No?"

He paused like the word itself was heavy. Then, quieter, rougher, "Not the way you think,"

You didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just watched him like he was a book half open.

He didn’t meet your eyes. Didn’t keep talking.

But he didn’t have to.

You pieced it together in your head, slow and careful.

He’d been in your village two weeks. You’d found excuses to run into him almost every day. Sometimes it was coffee, sometimes it was peaches from the orchard, sometimes it was nothing at all but a wave and a "Hiii again!~"

He’d never pushed you away.

Not really.

"I guess…" You started, your voice smaller now, “I just thought maybe you didn’t mind me. Or maybe you were just polite.”

He looked at you then. Really looked.

"…I didn’t expect you," He said, finally. His voice was low, like it wasn’t used to saying things that mattered. "I came here for work. Not… this."

You swallowed. Heart suddenly too loud in your chest.

"But… I kept letting you."

He didn’t move, but the air shifted.

"I don't know why," He said. "Maybe I liked it."

Your breath caught a little. Not dramatic, not showy, just that quiet, stunned kind of feeling when something lands deep.

“I like you too,” You whispered, fingers brushing his arm like you weren’t sure if you could hold on yet.

And for the first time since he sat down, he leaned in.

Not a kiss.

Not even a touch.

Just his shoulder against yours. Close enough that you could feel the heat of him, feel the way his breath slowed down a little, like maybe this was what he’d needed all along.

Outside, the sky had dipped into orange and purple. The animals were still. The world had quieted.

You sat there like that, in the hush of a day ending, his hand eventually finding yours, rough knuckles against calloused palms.

And Sasuke, silent as ever, didn’t pull away. Not even once.

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kawaiigirly21 · 9 months ago

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If y'all like Windbreaker, y'all want a story? I already got a few plots you can decide on what you want

Natasha moves to the other side of the tracks and her ex boyfriends Choji and Togame are less than thrilled when she's spotted around the border with some guys from Bofurin

Bofurin decides to participate in a transfer program where a girl will be allowed to attend their school for a whole year. Some boys are thrilled while others couldn't care less. Things get awkward and risky however when they discover said girl is the ex of Umemiya

Natasha and Sugishita are dating. Sugishita knows Natasha would do anything for him and vice versa. He also knows her little crushes on a few of his friends

#character x oc #oc #x black oc #original character #x black fem reader #x black!reader #x black reader #x black y/n #wind breaker x reader #windbreaker x reader #windbreaker smut #wind breaker #wind breaker sugishita #windbreaker suo #windbreaker umemiya #windbreaker hiragi #windbreaker sakura #windbreaker Togame #windbreaker choji

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thedreamerwithaheavyheart · 6 months ago

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Fellow Earthlings, Welcome!

Name: Sloan Belrose Tate

BLACK ASF !!

Age: 23 | ‘01

Zodiac: Scorpio Rising | Sag Sun | Cap Moon

Pansexual

Writer | Creative | High asf probably

18+ (only sometimes) MDNI !

Cashapp: skar3dtil

PERSONAL READINGS ARE $5 (just DM your reading prompt and once completed you’ll be given a locked GOOGLE DOCS link to your reading. Once payment [add username to payment so I know which one to send] is sent, you will be able to access the google doc)

FREE READING IF YOU BLAZE A POST 😌

Racism|Homophobia|Transphobia|Pro-Is-Not-Real WILL NOT BE TOLERATED AROUND HERE. SCADADDLE!!! SCRAM!!

Be KIND!

THE MASTERLIST

Im just here to write so I don’t lose my mind. I might have think pieces,fan fics,tarot readings reviews, poetry,fics, stories, song lyrics… the possibilities are endless. Please send in any requests for literally any fandom idc (i really need to get into more stuff anyway). If requesting spicy stuff just know that I don’t write anything violent, animal related, or toxic wastes etc. I’ll hopefully come with a master list soon. Anyway, thanks for passing through.

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gamblersdoll · 11 months ago

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sakura from windbreaker

sakura who just.. gets jealous so easily.

and its not the “oh, what does he have that i dont?” its the “he cant beat me though.” and he swears up and down.

you can tell, because he bites his inner cheek from going off and can’t make eye contact with you. he doesn’t feel jealous, the fuck? the other wimp cant even fight good, hes weaker than him!

you deserve someone who can fuck someone up, thats what a bofurin— windbreaker whatever the fuck is does, right? especially with how pretty you are, of course you attract problems!

the fuck am i calling you pretty for? i guess youre not too bad.

“why are you even thinking about him, anyway?” he asks, knuckles pressed to his cheek and pretending he’s not interested, but wholeheartedly, he needs to know. youre the closest one to him, who even gave him a chance.

“well, he asked me out, so i want to try and give it a shot.” you absentmindedly replied, not seeing his face grow into disgust and anger.

“i guess.” he replies, hoping youd sometime change your mind, he cant help thinking about just dragging you infront of this punk ass and claiming you, that was his right to.

#wind breaker #sakura hakura #hakura sakura #hakura x black reader #hakura x black!reader #hakura sakura x black! reader #dvorahsresidency

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kuramassss · 1 year ago

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Im gonna start write fanfics with characters x reader, so im taking requests for:

DC Fem characters:

Raven

White Canary

Black Canary

Black Siren

Laurel Lance

Thea Queen

Sara Lance

Harley Quinn

CW Characters:

Supergirl

Kara Danvers

Alex Danvers

Overgirl

Red Daugher

Nia Zal

Black Canary

Black Siren

Laurel Lance

Sara Lance

Ava Sharp

Charlie

Caitlyn Snow

Killer Frost

Thea Queen

Shado

Jessie Wells

Overwatch Characters:

Ashe

Tracer

Widowmaker

D.Va

Ana Amar

Pharah

Mercy

Mei

Bridget

Junker Queen

Echo

Moira Odelion

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angelofdarknessss · 11 months ago

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Beautiful Sinner

Chapter 2: Nightmare

Previous Part: CH-1

Next Part: CH-3

Word Count: 2,679

Main Pairing: Toko Fukawa x Gen!Neutral Reader

Summary: You *just* arrived and you already feel like you're going insane.

Author note: I feel bad for being so late >_< so sorry;; also I lied here is the part but on tumblr ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ for now my fic is active on Ao3 (main), Quotev and here! It's also published on wattpad but I'm not sure If ill update it there too, it is alot of work but I want as many people to read my work as possible sooo I'll try to keep up with it ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊

!!CW:!! Murder is described in this chapter! Starts when you see the "….. ᶻ's " If you want to read past it keep scrolling until you see another pair of " ….. ᶻ's "

You and Sayaka finally made it to the dorms, but not without you observing the other rooms as you passed through the school. It really had everything, you saw a bathhouse, dressing room, laundry room, dining hall, warehouse, and you’re sure there’s more to search later. You’d say its heaven but considering the situation you’re in now…it’s the opposite.

“Ah! Here we are!” Sayaka says happily. You two stood in the hallway between 12 rooms, the others located further down. “Wow, this school wasn’t lying when they said we’d be set for life. There’s a lot of useful stuff here…except for a hair salon. Would’ve loved a room to do my hair with all my materials.” You say with an annoyed sigh.

She giggles. “Aw, don’t be like that y/n! I see you already have some of them, right?” She gestures towards your waist apron with a few basic hair tools. “Well, yes..but that’s not enough to do my or anyone else’s hair!” You whined.

“I’m sure there’s a room with the things you need around here somewhere, after all this school is massive!” She smiles while staring at your hair. “I can tell you take good care of your hair..it’s so pretty.”

You could feel your face burn in embarrassment. Sure, you’ve received compliments about your hair many times but coming from Sayaka, an idol, it made you feel different. Especially since she was so gorgeous. “Oh!..thank you! I appreciate it.”

“Of course!” Her eyes then travel back to the dorms, searching for hers. “Hmm…oh! There’s mine!” She points towards the door on her right, you also took notice of the rooms beside hers. Those being Chihiros and coincidently, Makoto’s.

You stare at it, thinking about Makoto. Is he okay? Is he still asleep? Did something happen to him again? Those thoughts clouded your mind until Sayaka spoke up again. “Worried about Makoto still?” She tilts her head. “Don’t worry y/n, we can check up on him later. For now, should probably let him rest..” She voiced.

“Yeah..yeah you’re right. He must be unconscious still, I guess it’s best to wait until he wakes up.” Speaking of resting…you could really use a good nap right now. Where was your dorm?

You look around for your dorm and eventually spot it in-between Junko and Celeste’s dorm. Resting next to Junko doesn’t seem to bad, as for Celeste…you weren’t sure. You’ve only spoken to her once, maybe you’ll get to know her better later.

“Found my dorm.” You point towards the door with a little pixel you on it. It was kind of cute..you guess. “Perfect!” Sayaka holds her hands together. “Let’s check out our rooms, then we can meet back out here!...if that’s okay with you of course!” She says.

You nod in response. “That’s perfect. I’ll see you in a little bit then.” With that, she nods and heads straight into her dorm and you go into yours. As soon as you stepped inside and closed the door behind you, you realized it’s not like your typical dorm room.

It had…everything useful for a hair stylist!

There were three shampoo systems, three hood dryers, two salon chairs, a shelf filled with multiple hair products, scarfs, shower caps, blow dryers, combs, brushes, hair straighteners and curlers, and so much more..! This school even hooked you up with beautiful bonnets! With these tools you can do everybody’s hair in here…well, not for free.

And…of course there was your bed and bathroom you guess..that’s good too. But the tools is what you cared about the most. Not only did Monokuma hook you up with good hair products, but also some good personal ones too. On the nightstand beside your bed a bottle of shea butter lotion, dove deodorant including the soap, Olay bodywashes and a few perfume options to choose from.

Damn…you really shouldn’t be praising the bastard who put you in this mess but he really knew what specific items you used. It was a little creepy, but nonetheless you appreciate that you won’t be walking around the school looking AND smelling a mess.

“Phuhu~ You like it, stylist?”

“AHH!” You screamed while stumbling backwards, landing on your backside. “Y..you!!”

“Indeed! I am Monokuma!” He giggles into his paws at your reaction. “Didn’t mean to scare you buddy. Anyways…again, do you like your dorm, stylist?” He asks again. “uh…yes..?” You respond, your voice filled with uncertainty.

“You better!” He waddles over to you with his paw pointing at you. “All of these hair products, machines, and personal hygiene were expensive!” He angrily says. “I didn’t know you hair stylists were so high maintenance! I mean granted I have more than enough to buy them all but still! I better see you use every single one of these items, stylist!” He scolds you as if you were his child.

“What the..?!” You get up, now towering over the small Monokuma. “Did you just come to my dorm to yell at me? Get out now!” You yell at him, meanwhile he keeps that same angry expression. “Nuh-uh, you don’t have the power to send me off, kid! And besides…I came to give you this.”

He reaches into his non-existent pocket and hands you what looks like a room key, specifically a key to your dorm. “Your room was the last one I had to prepare, and I realized I forgotten to leave your key inside it.” You take it from him cautiously and slowly, as if he’s going to suddenly bite your hand.

Monokuma giggled at that. “Aw..scared a lil ole me?” He laughs out loud, showing off his sharp teeth. “You should bee~” You huffed in irritation and proceeded to point towards your door. “Just get out already!”

“Fine! Ungrateful brat..” He mummers before disappearing. You were alone again.

You let out a sigh of relief then sat onto your neatly done bed. Before you laid your body down on the soft blanket, your eyes caught a glimpse of a shiny coin on your nightstand. You picked up the coin and examined it…it was…a Monokuma coin?...a monocoin? You scoffed. How ridiculous….. yet, you slipped it into your waist apron. Might be handy later.

“This is so…..ughhh!” You frustratingly screamed, face palming yourself and then laying your back against the soft sheets. What were you going to do? You were trapped with 16 other strangers alongside a psychopathic bear and you could die at any minute! Why…why you of all people? Why did this have to happen to you specifically?

This was bullshit.

You need to take a nap for awhile..maybe for 30 minutes or so. Sayaka won’t mind, right? She knows where you are afterall..hell, she’s probably still looking around in her room. You slowly closed your eyes.

A little…rest…won’t hurt….

Yeah….yeah..you’ll see her in 30 minutes. After a few minutes of pure silence, you drifted off to sleep.

Unfortunately missing the few gentle knocks at your door.

….. ᶻ

………………………. ᶻ 𝗓

……………………………………………………… ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

…ᶻ

……………….ᶻ 𝗓

……………………………………….ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

“Y/n…..” A gentle voice whispered your name, their hand brushing against your cheek like a warm breeze. Exhaustion enveloped you, as if every ounce of energy was being siphoned from your very essence. You found yourself unable to stir, your body feeling heavy and frail.

Your eyes fluttered open, taking in your surroundings. You found yourself in a bathroom, sitting on the floor with your back against the wall, your left arm stained with blood and a fresh stab wound that continued to bleed profusely. As you shifted your gaze downward, you noticed that your right calf was also injured, bearing a matching wound that was equally oozing blood.

Yet, everything felt numb. All you could focus on was the person in front of you clutching a bloodied kitchen knife—Sayaka Maizono. But, she didn’t strike you as someone capable of causing harm, much less taking a life. So… why?

“I’m…I’m sorry!” she cried, her voice trembling as her clearly broken nose leaked blood. “I didn’t want to…to do this..not to you.” Tears streamed down her face, splattering onto your blood-stained shirt. She looked so traumatized, like she hadn’t mean to hurt you in the first place. “It wasn’t..*sniff*..supposed to be you..!”

How did it end up like this?… ‘Sayaka… why?’ was the question you longed to voice, yet all that escaped your lips were only anguished murmurs.

She suddenly clung to you tightly, the knife still firmly in her grasp, tears streaming down her face as she buried her face in your neck. “I’m so sorry…b-but I have to do this…please forgive me!” In one quick movement, she pulled the hand holding the blade away and drove it deep into your abdomen. Your eyes grew wide with shock; a scream threatened to escape your lips, but no sound came.

You could only remain frozen in fear, helplessly observing as your blood seeped through your garments and trickled down your legs. She pulled the knife away, her gaze locking onto yours, realizing you were still alive. “No no no…I’m sorry I’m sorry, I’ll make try to make it quicker…” She cries as she gripped the knife in her hand in guilt. It seemed so cruel to allow you to bleed out slowly, so… she directed her blade towards your neck and drove it in. But instead of taking it out, she let you choke on your own blood.

…This option didn’t seem much better, but you did feel the life being drained from you quicker. You watched her intently as she rose from the floor, her hands stained with blood as she tried to wipe away her tears. The crimson streaks marred her face, and some of it splattered onto her shirt and skirt. The bathroom floor was a gruesome sight, soaked in blood that continued to flow from your fresh abdominal wound, and now with the injury on your neck, your clothes were becoming increasingly tainted.

You made one last desperate attempt to cry out, to call for help, but deep down, you understood there was no hope. The only thing that escaped your quivering lips was blood. Sayaka looked at you, her eyes filled with remorse for a fleeting moment before she stepped out of the bathroom, shutting the door softly behind her, but not before flicking off the light, plunging you into complete darkness.

She left you all alone in the dark to die…how cruel. You thought she was your friend…why..why did it have to be you?

With one final breath, you felt your soul leaving your body finally. Sayaka Maizono murdered you.

If you were still able to talk, what would you ask? Was it worth it?...Would she do it to another classmate if not you?..Did she intend to kill you the moment she saw you?..How would Makoto feel?

Questions that you’ll never get an answer for. Because you no longer existed.

….. ᶻ

… *DING DONG*

………………………. ᶻ 𝗓

………… *DING DONG DING DONG*

……………………………………………………… ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

…………………………… *DING DONG DING DONG DING DONG DING DONG*

“…ugh!!” You shot up from sleep, drenched in sweat and your heart racing wildly in your chest. You propped yourself up, your fingers brushing against your neck and stomach. That dream, or rather, that nightmare, felt incredibly real. Yet, here you were, awake and safe. What on earth was that nightmare about? Why did Sayaka kill you? And why—?

*DING DONG DING DONG DING DONG DING DONG*

“Okay..okay! Stop! I’m coming…” you grumble, feeling a bit irritated as you push yourself off the bed and shuffle toward the door. With a yawn slipping out, you swing the door open. “..Taka?” You murmur. “AH..Y/N!..So THIS is where you’ve been hiding all this time!” He exclaims. “You really worried everyone, you know!...especially Makoto…” he adds, his voice dropping for the last part. “We were all convinced something terrible had happened to you!”

Makoto was worried about you..? wait…He’s awake?? “Wait what—? Makoto is awake?” you exclaim, a blend of shock and relief washing over you.. “Yes, he’s fine… but seriously, why did you think it was okay to nap for an hour and a half without telling anyone?!” he reprimands, prompting you to shoot him an irritated look. “Come on, cut me some slack! I didn’t plan on sleeping that long; I just meant to take a quick nap, but… well, it turned out to be a bit longer than I expected.”

“Clearly!” He states. “Now…please head to the dining hall with me, we’re holding a meeting, and we cannot start without you.”

"Uhm.. I appreciate the offer, but I can make it to the dining hall on my own. I’ll see you there." Just as you were about to shut the door, Taka wedged his foot between the door and the frame. "I really must insist." You give him a long look and let out a resigned sigh. "….fine, just let me freshen up first."

Once you had tidied your hair and brushed off your clothes, you made your way to the dining hall with Taka, feeling a bit reluctant. As you strolled toward the hall, a thought struck you—you had carelessly thrown your waist apron somewhere in the room. You considered turning back to grab it, feeling somewhat exposed without it, but then decided you could always pick it up later

At this moment, you really had to get up to speed with your classmates…who had been busy digging for information while you were asleep…this may end badly for you. They likely put in a ton of effort while you were relaxing in your room…or rather, you wouldn’t exactly call it ‘relaxing’ given the nightmare, but still…

Anywho, you two finally made it to the dining hall and were immediately greeted with everyone eyes on you two, more so you. Everyone sat at the same table except for Toko and Byakuya, who sat at a different, smaller table. Toko wasn’t sitting with him but was standing near him.

And..wait..Kyoko wasn’t there. Strange.

“Y/n! There you are!” Sayaka exclaims, her face lighting up with relief as she jumps up from her chair and rushes over to you, wrapping you in a warm hug with her head against your shoulder. “I..I thought something had happened to you..I tried to ring your door bell but you didn’t answer.” Her voice trails off, and she glances away, a hint of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. “So I assumed you had left your room..”

Your breath caught in your throat as she unexpectedly wrapped her arms around you. Every time you laid eyes on her, the haunting nightmare replayed in your mind. A part of you wanted to keep your distance, yet another part ached with sympathy for her; after all, it wasn’t her doing that you had such a terrifying dream. You reassured yourself that it was just the overwhelming stress of the situation, she’s harmless..is what you tell yourself.

"Y/n?" She lifts her head from your shoulder, calling your name softly. “Ah, sorry to scare you Sayaka, I was just sleeping.” you reply, feeling a bit embarrassed as you rub the back of your head. You give her a gentle pat on the back, which brings a warm smile to her face. "No worries! I’m just happy to see you’re okay. By the way, Makoto woke up a little while ago!" She points to him at the table, where he offers you a friendly smile and a wave.

“And guess what? I found out we used to go to the same middle school!” She happily chirps, her face lighting up. “How funny is that? What middle school did you go to? Maybe we have—"

“Sayaka…Y/n!” Taka clears his throat with a loud cough. “Let’s put a pin in this conversation for now; please take a seat!”

Sayaka's shoulders droop a bit as a rosy hue spreads across her cheeks, but she manages a nod. "Alright... um... Y/n?" Releasing her grip on you, she takes your hand gently. "You’ll sit next to me, right?"

14 notes · View notes

cloudtransprncy · 4 months ago

Text

Tease

Chaewon x Male Reader | 8k words Tags: manager x idol, secret relationship, pent up, semi-public, sneaking away, horny as fuck, chaewon is hot as fuck, I wish it was me

Chaewon looks too good in that dress. Three weeks without sex. How long before you snap?

Jus sumn quick for yall.

Chaewon [1:42 AM]: I've been touching myself thinking about you every night this week. It's not enough.

Chaewon [1:43 AM]: Good luck keeping it professional tomorrow when you see what they have me wearing for the HOT trailer shoot 😈

You stare at your phone, heat flooding through your body. Three weeks without her. The longest you've gone since you started dating a year ago.

Fuck, she knows exactly what she's doing to you.

Three weeks without her touch has made every message like this a form of exquisite torture. You can practically hear her voice in your head as you read her texts.

You're dating Kim Chaewon. LE SSERAFIM's leader. And you're one of their managers.

It started on a company retreat last spring—a late-night conversation about music that turned into coffee, then dinner a week later, then her pressed against your apartment door, whispering that she'd wanted this since the moment you'd been assigned to their team.

You'd both agreed it would be just once.

That agreement lasted approximately 8 hours.

No one knows. Not the company. Not the members.

Not even Jiyeon, the other manager who works with you handling the girls' schedules.

And right now, your girlfriend is driving you fucking crazy.

The comeback prep for "HOT" has been exactly that—hot, intense, and keeping you both so busy you can barely catch your breath, let alone sneak away to be alone together.

You've tried everything to deal with the frustration. Late-night FaceTiming while she touches herself in her dorm room, biting her pillow to stay quiet. Watching the videos you've made together—her riding you on your couch, her bent over your bathroom sink, her on her knees looking up at you with those eyes.

None of it is enough. You need her. You need to taste her, feel her skin against yours, be inside her.

The warehouse set is all sleek white surfaces and ribbed glass partitions. Floor-to-ceiling windows let in cold natural light that makes everything look clean, sterile, and expensive. The perfect contrast to the fire they're trying to create with this concept.

Staff members in black hurry around with clipboards and equipment, speaking in hushed, urgent tones. This "BORN FIRE" trailer shoot has to be perfect—it's launching LE SSERAFIM's most ambitious album "HOT" yet.

You check your own clipboard, making sure everything's on schedule while trying not to think about Chaewon and whatever outfit has her texting you at 2 AM.

The irony isn't lost on you. Here you are, supervising the filming of a teaser—literally called "BORN FIRE"—while Chaewon herself is the true teaser. She's igniting something in you that's becoming increasingly difficult to contain. The line between her performance for the video and her performance for you is blurring dangerously.

"Manager-oppa, the director wants to run through the toy car scene again," Eunchae says, bouncing up to you in her feathered white outfit. "Have you seen Chaewon unnie? She's next."

"Still in wardrobe," you answer, keeping your voice steady. Like you're not thinking about how Chaewon moaned your name in that hotel in Jeju last month, her body shaking beneath yours as she came for the third time that night.

Sakura walks past with her stylist, the long white dress trailing behind her. You spot Kazuha already positioned on one of the white block structures that fill the set. The whole group is scattered around the space in various stages of preparation.

"Jiyeon-ssi," you call to your fellow manager, "can you check if hair and makeup are done with Chaewon?"

Jiyeon nods and heads toward the dressing area. You turn your attention back to the monitor, where the director is reviewing footage.

Then it happens.

The quiet murmur of the set shifts. You feel it before you see it.

Chaewon walks onto set, and your entire body goes rigid.

Your throat goes dry instantly. God, you love her in white—the way it makes her skin glow, how it emphasizes every curve you've memorized with your hands, your mouth. You force yourself to breathe normally even as memories flood your mind unbidden. She knows what this does to you. She's counting on it.

The white strapless dress is even shorter than it looked in the concept sketches and fittings you'd seen last week. It hugs her body perfectly, showing off shoulders you've kissed a hundred times.

The black belt cinches her waist—the waist you've held in your hands while she rode you until you both saw stars. But it's the boots that kill you. Thigh-high, black, lace-up boots that make her legs look endless.

You force yourself to look away, back at your clipboard. Professional. You're a professional.

But memories flood your mind anyway:

Chaewon straddling you in the backseat of your car, hand pressed against your mouth to keep you quiet while security guards walked past.

Chaewon pressed against your kitchen counter, panties around one ankle, begging you not to stop as you dropped to your knees.

Chaewon in your bed, hair spread across your pillow, eyes locked with yours as you moved inside her, whispering that she loves you.

You still remember the first time she said those words—three months in, both of you sweaty and breathless, her eyes wide with something like surprise at her own admission. You'd felt it too, that terrifying, exhilarating free-fall into something neither of you had planned for.

"You good?" asks one of the camera assistants, noticing how you've been staring at nothing.

"Fine," you say, the word clipped.

On set, Chaewon takes her position. In one scene, she stands tall on a miniature white car, the contrast of the boots against the white making her look like some kind of goddess. In another setup, she holds a diagram against her bare shoulder, eyes focused directly at the camera.

She's perfect. Professional. The director loves every take.

But then, during a lighting adjustment, when everyone's attention is elsewhere, she looks directly at you.

It's quick—barely a second—but in that moment, her professional mask slips. Her eyes darken. The corner of her mouth quirks up.

It's the same look she gave you the first time you told her to get on her knees.

The director calls for the next setup. Chaewon moves into position with the other members, all of them in white, creating a visual that's both innocent and somehow sinful.

You take a deep breath. You've been so good. So professional.

But when she walks past you, she whispers, "Bet you want to take this off me so bad," so quietly only you can hear it, you know exactly how this day is going to end.

You are completely, totally fucked.

You're in hell.

Not the burning, fire-and-brimstone kind. The sleek, white, glass-walled kind.

A special kind of hell designed with surgical precision by Kim Chaewon—your weakness, your fucking undoing.

The "BORN FIRE" shoot continues. It's been three hours. You've managed to stay professional for exactly none of them.

"Cut! Five minute break," the director calls.

The set erupts into controlled chaos—stylists rushing to touch up makeup, lighting techs adjusting gear, Kazuha and Eunchae huddled near the white blocks watching practice videos on their phones.

You stare at your clipboard like it contains the secrets of the universe.

Chaewon moves through the space like she owns it, boots clicking against the polished concrete floor. The sound alone makes your pulse kick.

She stands by the glass partition, sunlight catching on her hair, making it glow against all the sterile white. Your eyes follow her despite your brain screaming not to.

"Manager-oppa," she calls, voice sweet and professional. The sound hits you low in your stomach—the same tone she uses right before she begs you to fuck her harder.

"Can you bring me some water?"

She knows exactly what she's doing. Every staff member sees a hardworking idol asking her manager for a simple favor.

You know better.

You grab a bottle and walk it over to her. That's when she strikes.

Her fingers brush yours as she takes the bottle—deliberate, electric—the touch lasting a half-second too long to be accidental.

"Had a dream about you last night," she murmurs, voice pitched for your ears only.

The cap of the water bottle clicks as she twists it open. She drinks slowly, throat working in a way that triggers a vivid flashback—her on her knees three weeks ago, swallowing around you, looking up with those same dark eyes. You'd gripped her hair so tight she'd moaned around you.

Her tongue darts out to catch a drop on her lower lip. Her eyes never leave yours.

You say nothing. Your grip on the clipboard turns your knuckles white.

Jiyeon passes by, checking her watch. "Chaewon-ah, wardrobe wants to check your outfit before the next shot."

Chaewon nods, all professional sweetness. "Coming!"

She brushes past you, close enough that you catch her scent—something floral and expensive that you've tasted on her skin a hundred times before.

The stylist adjusts something on the back of her dress while she stands in front of the monitor. You try to focus on the schedule, on anything but the curve of her shoulder blades, the way the belt cinches her waist.

"Everything good?" the stylist asks.

Chaewon nods, then turns slightly. Her eyes find yours in the reflection of the monitor. "Perfect."

The tech walks away. You're about to do the same when—

"Woke up so wet this morning."

The words hit you like a physical blow. Your body responds instantly, a rush of heat that makes you grit your teeth.

She doesn't even look at you. Just keeps checking her reflection, adjusting a strand of hair like she didn't just set you on fire.

You step closer, voice low. "Watch yourself."

She smiles—sweet, sharp, fucking dangerous. "Always do. That's why I look so good."

The director calls everyone back. You retreat to the safety of the production table.

You adjust your clipboard, grateful for its coverage. This is what she reduces you to—a professional with years of industry experience hiding an erection like a teenager. The thought should embarrass you, but instead, there's a twisted pride in how she still affects you this way, even after a year together.

For exactly twelve minutes, you breathe. Focus. Reset.

Then she slides into the chair next to you.

"Can I see the schedule?" she asks, loud enough for others to hear. Professional. Proper.

You hand her your tablet without looking up. Three staff members hover nearby, discussing lighting for the next scene.

Sakura sits across the table, focused on crocheting something delicate and blue, her fingers moving with practiced precision. The click of her crochet hook provides a steady rhythm to the chaos around you.

That's when you feel it—her hand on your thigh under the table. Casual. Like it belongs there.

Your entire body goes rigid.

"Chaewon," you warn, barely a whisper.

"Mmm?" She leans in, pretending to point at something on the screen. Her fingers start to move. Slow strokes up, then down. Teasing.

You inhale sharply, willing your face to stay neutral.

The staff members move away. But Sakura is still there, focused on her project, the hook moving in and out of the yarn.

Chaewon's hand inches higher, bolder than she's ever been. Her pinky grazes dangerously close to where you're already hardening against your will.

"Stop," you hiss.

She leans closer, her breath against your ear. "I'm ovulating, you know."

Your vision blurs. Blood rushes in your ears.

"You'd feel it the moment you were inside me—"

Sakura looks up suddenly, her eyes meeting yours across the table.

Your heart stops.

Chaewon doesn't move her hand. Instead, she laughs at something on the screen, all innocent charm. "Manager-oppa, the schedule looks too tight. Don't you think?"

Sakura tilts her head, then returns to her crocheting, seemingly oblivious to the fact that your girlfriend's hand is still on your thigh, still dangerously high.

You wrap your fingers around her wrist under the table, stopping her hand but not removing it. A dangerous compromise.

Her pupils dilate. That's when you see it—she's not just playing with you. She's affected too. Her cheeks flushed, her breathing just a little too quick.

She's as desperate as you are.

The realization hits you like a kick to the chest.

"Two minutes!" someone calls.

She extracts her hand slowly, deliberately. Stands up, smooths down her dress. The movement pulls the hem even higher on her thigh.

"Think you can last the rest of the day?" she asks, a challenge glinting in her eyes.

Before you can answer, Jiyeon approaches. "Chaewon-ah, they need you for the car shot."

Chaewon nods, all business again. But as she walks away, she glances back—just once. Just enough for you to see the hunger there, mirroring your own.

The next hour is psychological warfare.

Around you, the set buzzes with activity. Makeup artists touch up the members between shots. The director argues with the cinematographer about lighting. A production assistant nearly trips over a cable, sending everyone scrambling.

And through it all, Chaewon wages her private campaign against your sanity.

This is high-stakes chess played under fluorescent lights.

Every staff member represents a potential career-ending leak. The director who's worked with three generations of idol groups and has seen every possible scandal. The company photographer who reports directly to the CEO. The stylists who know every whispered secret in the industry.

One wrong move, one lingering glance held too long, and everything you've both worked for collapses.

She steps onto the miniature white car, boots planted wide, the dress riding up her thighs as she poses. The camera loves her. Every angle is perfection.

You remember the first time you took her for a drive, six months into your secret relationship. She'd climbed into your lap at a deserted scenic point, the gear shift digging into her leg as she rode you, both of you half-clothed, desperate, her breath fogging the windows as she came.

Now, as she stands on that toy car, her eyes find yours between every take.

During the group shot with the white blocks, she trails her fingers along the edge of the structure, the same way she's traced paths across your chest in the dark of your bedroom. Her fingernails scrape lightly against the white surface, and you swear you can feel phantom scratches down your back.

Each pose becomes more provocative. Each glance more daring.

When the stylist adjusts her dress between shots, Chaewon stretches her arms overhead, making the hem ride dangerously high. The movement fills your nostrils with the scent of her perfume—jasmine and something deeper—that clings to your sheets for days after she leaves.

In the solo shot with the diagram pressed against her bare shoulder, she turns just enough that only you can see how her teeth catch her bottom lip—the same way they do when you're deep inside her.

Your heart hammers against your ribs. Your skin feels too tight. Every minute is torture, and the fact that you're surrounded by people—Jiyeon checking the time, Eunchae asking you questions, staff members constantly brushing past—only makes it worse.

This isn't just teasing anymore. This is Chaewon pushing both of you to the edge.

Then comes the final blow.

During the last break, when the set is buzzing with activity, she passes by the narrow space between the equipment cases where you're checking inventory.

No one can see you here. Just a sliver of space hidden from the main floor.

She stops, just for a second. Leans in.

"Just fuck me in the changing room already."

The clipboard nearly snaps in your grip.

She walks away, satisfied smirk playing on her lips.

And something in you—the last thread of your control—finally snaps.

You count to ten. Wait until she's back in position on set.

Then you move through the space with purpose, face composed, steps measured.

Professional.

You reach her just as the director calls for a lighting check.

Your fingers wrap around her wrist—firm, decisive.

She looks up, triumph flashing in her eyes.

"Do you wanna get caught, you stupid bitch?" you whisper, the words harsh but your tone almost loving.

Her lips part. A small gasp that only you can hear.

"Manager-nim, is something wrong?" the director asks.

"Wardrobe issue," you say smoothly. "Won't take long."

You pull her away from the set, past curious eyes, past Jiyeon's raised eyebrow.

The changing room is too exposed. Too many people.

Five years in this industry has taught you one thing: discretion isn't just preferred, it's survival.

You've built your reputation on professionalism, on being the manager who anticipates problems before they happen.

Chaewon is the one variable you can never fully calculate, the one risk you can't mitigate. And God help you, you wouldn't have it any other way.

You spot it—a storage room door, slightly ajar. Dark. Empty.

Perfect.

Her breath catches as you change direction, leading her toward it.

"What are you—"

You push the door open. Pull her inside The storage room door closes with a soft click.

And finally—fucking finally—you're alone.

One second passes.

Two.

Then Chaewon launches herself at you.

Her hands grab your face with bruising intensity, fingernails digging into your scalp, your jaw, anywhere she can grip. The heat of her palms sears your skin as her mouth finds yours with desperate precision. The kiss is nuclear—all teeth and tongue and hunger. She bites your lower lip, hard enough to make you taste the metallic hint of blood, then soothes it with the velvety warmth of her tongue, exploring your mouth like she's trying to devour you whole.

Her body presses against yours, tits crushed against your chest, her hips grinding with shameless need. She grabs your hands and places them on her ass, demanding your touch without saying a word.

"Fuck, I missed your mouth," she gasps, her breath hot against your lips as she pulls at your clothes, fingers trembling and scrabbling at your belt, nails occasionally scraping against your abdomen. She can't seem to decide where to touch you—her hands moving from your chest to your shoulders to your neck, back to your belt, frantic and greedy. "Missed your hands. Missed your cock."

You slam her against the shelves, the metal rattling with a satisfying clang that echoes her gasp. Your hands are everywhere—her face, flushed and warm beneath your palms; her throat, pulse hammering wildly under your fingertips; the soft swell of her breasts rising and falling with each ragged breath; the dramatic curve of her waist that fits perfectly in your grip. Every touch relearns the terrain you've been starved of for three endless weeks.

She reaches behind and grabs your wrists, dragging your hands to her ass, forcing you to squeeze the firm flesh. "Touch me everywhere," she demands, voice thick with need. "I've been dying for it."

"You took too fucking long," she pants against your lips, her voice vibrating through you as her hands finally get your pants open, the sudden coolness of air a sharp contrast to the heat of her touch. Her fingers brush against your cock, a teasing touch that makes your jaw clench.

The storage room closes around you—metal shelves on one wall digging into her back, garment racks crowded with costumes exhaling the scent of fabric softener and makeup, cardboard boxes stacked in the corner threatening to topple with each movement. A single fluorescent light buzzes overhead, casting harsh shadows that carve her features into something almost feral with need, highlighting the sheen of sweat beginning to form at her temples, at the hollow of her throat.

She makes quick work of the black safety shorts beneath her dress, the fabric making a soft whisper as it slides down her legs before she kicks them away. The movement is so fluid, so urgent, that your mouth goes dry with anticipation. She grabs your hand, guiding it between her legs, letting you feel how ready she is. "See what you do to me?" she whispers, eyes locked on yours.

You spin her around, the quick motion making her gasp. For a moment, you just look at her—the elegant column of her neck where a few baby hairs escape her bob cut, curling with perspiration; the delicate slope of her shoulders, pale and perfect under the harsh light; the dramatic curve where her waist meets the swell of her ass, emphasized by the black belt that begs to be gripped. The white dress clings to every inch, revealing the heat she's generating beneath it. Your mouth waters just looking at her, tongue dragging across suddenly parched lips.

Your hand comes down on her ass with a sharp crack, the sound startlingly loud in the confined space. She jerks forward, a surprised gasp escaping her lips. The pale skin instantly flushes pink under your palm.

"Hurry up," she demands, looking back at you over her shoulder, eyes dark and glassy with impatience, pupils blown wide until only a thin ring of brown remains. She arches her back, pushing her ass against your hand, silently begging for more.

You grip her hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh hard enough to leave impressions. "Shut the fuck up."

Her breath catches with an audible hitch. You know she loves it when you talk to her like this—can feel it in the goosebumps that rise under your touch, in the way her thighs tremble slightly.

You run your hands up her sides, feeling the heat radiating through the thin fabric, then down to the hem of her dress, bunching the material as you start to lift it. The fabric makes a soft rustling sound that seems obscenely loud in the small space. Your hands slide up her thighs, skin like silk beneath your calloused palms, finding the lace edge of her panties. Black, of course. The contrast against her pale skin is stark and mouthwatering.

Another smack lands on her ass, harder this time. You watch the flesh jiggle under the impact, the imprint of your hand blooming pink against her porcelain skin. "You like that?" you ask, already knowing the answer as she pushes back against you.

"Yes," she hisses, grinding back against your hand. "Again. Harder."

You comply, landing another sharp slap, watching the way her body jerks forward before pressing back, seeking more. "Look at you," you murmur, "So perfect for the cameras, but in here, you're just a dirty little slut who gets wet from being spanked."

She moans at your words, the sound vibrating through her entire body. "Only for you," she whispers, the admission hanging heavy in the air between you.

Spinning her back around, you claim her mouth again, tasting mint and desperation on her tongue as your hand slips between her legs, pressing the lace against her. The fabric is soaked through, warm and clinging to her folds. Her hands are everywhere—gripping your shoulders, sliding down your chest, grabbing at your ass to pull you closer, like she can't get enough of touching you.

"Goddamn," you mutter against her lips, the words a vibration between your connected mouths. "Your pussy's fucking drenched."

You hook your fingers into the lace and yank it aside, the elastic snapping against her thigh. Your middle finger slides through her folds, gathering her wetness, feeling how swollen and ready she is—hot and slick and perfect against your fingertips.

"Look how fucking wet you are," you murmur, watching her face contort with pleasure as you circle her clit, feeling it harden beneath your touch. "Been thinking about this all day, haven't you?"

She whimpers, a high, needy sound that goes straight to your cock as she grinds against your hand. "I told you I've been wet since I woke up," she pants, her breath coming in short, hot puffs against your face. "Thinking about you. About this. About you bending me over and fucking me until I can't remember my own name."

She tries to reach for you, but you catch her wrist with your free hand, her pulse jumping beneath your grip as you pin it above her head against the shelves. The metal is cold against her skin, making her hiss.

"Not yet," you tell her, voice dropping to a growl. "I want you desperate first."

"I'm already desperate," she hisses, trying to rock against your hand, the movement making her belt buckle clink against itself. Her free hand grabs at your shirt, your arm, anywhere she can reach. "Just fuck me already."

You turn her again, pressing her face-first against the metal shelving. The cold surface makes her gasp, back arching instinctively away from it. She braces herself, legs automatically spreading wider on the concrete floor, the heel of her boots making a sharp click as she repositions.

You grab her belt from behind, leather warm from her body heat, using it to arch her back, positioning her ass higher. The positioning makes the dress ride up further, exposing more of her thighs, making her stance more obscene, more perfect.

Another smack lands on her exposed ass, harder than before, the sound cracking through the small room. She jerks forward, a moan ripping from her throat.

"Fucking perfect," you mutter, kneading the flesh you just struck, watching the pink handprint fade and bloom again under your touch. You land another blow on the opposite cheek, evening her out, making her squirm.

The scent of her arousal hits you fully now—musky, sweet, unmistakable. Your mouth waters at the smell of her, cock throbbing painfully in response.

You reach up, fingers finding her hair, gripping the short strands of her bob at the nape of her neck. Not pulling, just holding, controlling. The sensation makes her moan, her head falling back into your grip.

"Please," she whispers, the word a broken, ragged thing as she tries to push back against you.

You keep her in place with your dual grip on her belt and hair. "Please what?"

"Please fuck me," she begs, all teasing gone from her voice, replaced with raw need. "I need your cock inside me. Now."

You release her hair to lean over her, your chest pressing against her back, trapping her heat between your bodies. Your mouth finds her ear, teeth grazing the sensitive lobe. "After all that teasing? All those filthy little comments with people right fucking there?"

You land another hard slap on her ass, watching the flesh redden under your palm. "This what you wanted? Getting your ass slapped while the whole crew is just outside?"

"Yes," she admits, voice small but sure. "Needed it so bad."

You drag the head of your cock through her slick folds, the sensation making both of you groan—her wetness hot and silky against you, making everything gloriously frictionless. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't make you wait longer."

"Because," she pants, voice vibrating with need, "you want this as bad as I do."

She's right, and you both know it.

You guide yourself to her entrance and thrust in with one brutal stroke, burying yourself to the hilt in her tight, clinging heat.

The sound she makes is primal—half gasp, half moan, pure fucking need. Your hand clamps over her mouth immediately, palm registering the warm wetness of her breath, the softness of her lips.

"Shhh," you warn even as you pull back and drive in again, the slick sound of your joining obscenely loud in the small space. "You want the whole fucking staff to hear how you take cock? How their perfect Kim Chaewon is just a dirty little whore in here?"

She shakes her head, but her pussy clenches around you at the words, a vice-like grip that sends stars exploding behind your eyelids. You know she loves the risk, the filth, the knowledge that just outside this door, she's Kim Chaewon of LE SSERAFIM, but in here, she's just yours to use.

"That's what gets you off, isn't it?" you growl against her ear, punctuating each word with a hard thrust. "Knowing they all think you're so sweet, so professional, when really you're in here letting me fuck you raw in a storage room."

Moving your hand from her mouth to her throat, you feel her swallow against your palm, her pulse racing beneath your fingers. You don't squeeze, just hold, feeling the vibrations of her moans traveling through her slender neck.

"That's right," you growl against her ear, teeth scraping the shell. "Remember who you belong to."

Her response is a full-body shudder, her inner walls clenching around you, making you groan at the sensation.

You fuck her hard, each thrust making her body jolt against the shelves. The metal creaks ominously, the sound mixing with the wet slap of skin on skin, the harsh sounds of your combined breathing. Your hand comes down on her ass again, the sting making her gasp, her pussy clenching around you in response.

"You love that, don't you?" you murmur, watching the red handprint bloom on her pale skin. "Love getting your ass slapped while your tight little pussy gets stretched around my cock."

"Yes," she admits, voice breaking around the word. "Love it. Love everything you do to me."

Without pulling out, you grab her left thigh and lift it, the smooth leather of her boot sliding against your palm as you plant her foot against a lower shelf. The new position opens her up, lets you sink even deeper into her molten core.

"Fuck," she whimpers, head falling forward against her braced arm, the tendons in her neck standing out in sharp relief.

"That's it," you growl, watching yourself disappear inside her over and over, mesmerized by the sight of her taking you, by the glistening evidence of her arousal coating you. "Take it deeper."

You grip her belt with one hand, bunching her dress even higher with the other until it's completely out of the way. The sight of her perfect ass jiggling with each impact makes your head swim, blood rushing in your ears. It's already pink from your earlier attention, the skin warm to the touch.

Your hand slides up her spine to grip her hair again, this time with purpose. You gather the short strands in your fist, tugging just enough to make her back arch further, to make her gasp, throat exposed and vulnerable.

"Look at you," you say, voice rough with exertion, the words punched out of you with each thrust. "LE SSERAFIM's perfect leader, taking cock in a storage room, being such a whore. Such a pretty little slut with your ass all red from my hands, your pussy dripping all over my cock."

She pushes back against you, taking you deeper, her body greedily swallowing every inch. "Harder," she demands, voice breaking on the word. "Fuck me harder. Make me feel it tomorrow."

You grip both her hips now, fingers digging into soft flesh, and pick up the pace. The new angle has you hitting that spot inside her that makes her whole body tremble, makes her walls flutter and clench around you. The wet sounds of her pussy taking your cock fill the small space—obscene, filthy, perfect.

"You're so fucking tight," you groan, feeling her walls grip you like a silken vice. "Squeezing my cock like you're trying to milk it dry."

You switch your grip, one hand finding her throat again, feeling her swallow against your palm as you apply the gentlest pressure. Just enough to remind her who's in control, to make her breath catch. Your other hand comes down hard on her ass again, the smack loud enough to make you both freeze for a second, worried it might have been heard outside.

"You've been a fucking menace all day," you growl, your pace relentless, the sound of your bodies coming together a wet percussion. "Strutting around in this dress, whispering that shit in my ear, touching me under the table."

Your grip on her throat tightens fractionally, making her pulse jump against your fingers. Her only response is to push back harder, taking you deeper, her body yielding and demanding all at once.

"You'd let me do anything to you, wouldn't you?" you ask, voice low and rough in her ear. "Slap your ass, pull your hair, fuck you where anyone could walk in and see you—see what a desperate little whore you really are."

"Yes," she admits, the confession barely audible. "Anything. Everything."

The tension builds between you, a tangible thing in the small, overheated room. The air is thick with the scent of sex, with the sounds of pleasure barely contained, with the electric certainty that this is exactly where you both need to be.

You change the angle again, leaning over her back to reach around to her front. The new position grinds your pelvis against her ass with each thrust, your cock hitting new spots inside her. Your fingers find her clit, circling it in tight, firm motions, feeling it swell and harden under your touch.

"Oh fuck," she gasps, her inner walls fluttering around you like wings. "Right there, don't stop."

You don't stop. You keep up the relentless pace, feeling her get wetter around you with each stroke, her arousal making everything slick and hot and perfect. Your fingers on her clit get slicker, the combination of her arousal and your spit making obscene wet sounds that mix with the slap of skin on skin.

"That's right, take it just like that," you encourage, voice strained. "Take it like the cock-hungry little slut you are."

Instead of being offended, she moans louder, her body responding to your words as much as to your touch. You know exactly what she likes to hear, exactly how far to push the fantasy of degradation that excites her so much.

The pleasure is so intense you have to grit your teeth to keep from coming too soon. Three weeks without this—without her tight heat squeezing you, without her desperate little sounds, without the feeling of being buried inside her—has left you balanced on a knife's edge of control.

"You close?" you ask, voice strained, the words feeling like they're being ripped from your chest.

"Yes," she pants, the word almost a sob. "So close."

You reach up with your free hand, tangling your fingers in her hair again, carefully pulling her head back to expose the elegant line of her neck, watching the muscles work beneath the skin as she swallows. You bend to press open-mouthed kisses along her shoulder, right where the dress leaves her skin bare, tasting salt and sweetness.

"Think about this tomorrow," you murmur against her skin, lips dragging over the goosebumps your breath creates. "When you're sitting in meetings, when you're in practice, when you're smiling for the cameras—remember how fucked you look right now. Remember how your ass felt getting spanked while my cock was inside you. Remember what a perfect little whore you are for me."

Her breath catches. Her pussy clenches around you. She's right on the edge, her body wound tight as a bowstring.

"Remember you're fucking mine," you growl, punctuating the words with a particularly deep thrust that makes her cry out before she can stop herself, the sound sharp and startling in the quiet room.

You cover her mouth again, palm feeling the heat of her breath, the wetness of her lips, but it's too late—the sound echoed in the small room. Both of you freeze, hearts pounding, listening for any reaction from outside.

Nothing. Just the continued sounds of the busy set.

The moment of fear transforms quickly back into desperate need. Your thrusts become harder, deeper, more deliberate. Her body responds with renewed hunger, pushing back to meet you stroke for stroke, the rhythm between you perfect and instinctive.

Your hand slips from her mouth to her throat, not squeezing, just feeling her pulse race under your palm, feeling the vibrations of her moans travel through your fingertips.

"You gonna come for me?" you ask, feeling your own orgasm building at the base of your spine, heat coiling tight and insistent. "Gonna come all over my cock like the needy little slut you are?"

She nods frantically, beyond words now. Her body tightens around you, clenching with each thrust, the pressure building visibly in the arch of her back, the tension in her thighs, the way her fingers curl against the metal shelf.

You can feel your own release building, the tight grip of her pussy dragging you toward the edge. You've been thinking about this for weeks—dreaming about it, jerking off to memories of it—and now you're finally here, buried inside her, both of you desperate and filthy and perfect.

Her breath hitches. Her pussy flutters around your cock. You know the signs—she's right there, teetering on the precipice.

One more hard slap on her ass, the sting making her gasp, her inner walls clenching around you in response.

You lower her leg from the shelf, repositioning her with both feet on the ground, but spread wide. You grip her belt again with one hand, keeping up the pressure on her clit with the other. The new angle has you grinding against that spot inside her that makes her go crazy, makes her whole body tremble.

"Come on," you urge, your own control slipping, voice rough and broken. "Come on my cock, Chaewon. Let me feel it. Let me feel what a fucking whore you are for me."

Her body responds instantly, like your words were the final trigger she needed. She buries her face against her arm to muffle the sound as her orgasm rips through her, her pussy clamping down on you in rhythmic pulses, a flood of warmth surrounding you. Her legs shake so hard you have to hold her up with the grip on her belt, feeling the tremors travel through her entire body.

The sight of her completely wrecked, the feel of her convulsing around you, the knowledge that you did this to her—it all sends you over the edge. You thrust deep one last time, grinding against her ass as you come, filling her up with pulse after pulse, the pleasure so intense it's almost pain, radiating from your core to the tips of your fingers, the backs of your knees, the top of your skull.

"Fuck, Chaewon, fuck," you chant, forehead pressed between her shoulder blades as you empty yourself inside her, feeling the way she milks every drop from you, her body greedy even in its exhaustion.

For a long moment, neither of you moves. Just the sound of ragged breathing, your heartbeats gradually slowing from their frantic pace, the distant muffled voices of the set filtering back into your awareness.

You're still inside her, softening but reluctant to break the connection. Her body occasionally trembles with aftershocks, her pussy giving your cock little squeezes that make you hiss with oversensitivity, the sensation bordering on too much.

You run your hand gently over her ass, soothing the skin you'd been striking moments ago. It's still warm to the touch, a faint pink that will fade before she has to be back on set. Your touch is gentle now, a stark contrast to the roughness from before.

"You okay?" you murmur against her ear, pressing a soft kiss to the side of her neck.

"Better than okay," she whispers back, voice wrecked but satisfied.

Eventually, you pull out slowly, both of you groaning at the sensation. You watch as a trickle of your come leaks from her, sliding down her inner thigh. The sight sends a possessive thrill through you, primal and satisfying.

She straightens, turning to face you. Her makeup is smeared, her lips swollen and red, her cheeks flushed. Her eyes have that dazed, satisfied look that only comes after she's been thoroughly fucked. A thin sheen of sweat makes her skin glow under the fluorescent light. Her short hair is disheveled where you'd gripped it, sticking up in places that you smooth down with gentle fingers.

You grab tissues from a box on the shelf, gently cleaning between her legs. She watches you, a soft smile playing on her lips—so different from the smirk she's been tormenting you with all day.

"Did I hurt you?" you ask, suddenly aware of how rough you were, eyes searching for marks on her throat, her wrists, her hips, ghosting your fingers over her ass where you'd struck her.

She shakes her head, running her fingers through your hair, nails scraping lightly against your scalp in a way that makes you shiver. "Babe, It was perfect."

You retrieve her safety shorts from the floor and help her back into them, then smooth down her dress. Your hands linger on her waist, not quite ready to let go, feeling the warmth of her through the fabric.

A smirk forms slowly on her face, eyes glittering with mischief as she leans in close, her breath warm against your ear. "Think they heard?"

You press a final kiss to her shoulder, lingering there, inhaling deeply—tasting salt and perfume and her, that essence that's uniquely Chaewon beneath the expensive fragrance. Your lips trace a path to the curve where her neck meets her shoulder, feeling her pulse still racing beneath your mouth.

"Not if you keep your mouth shut next time," you murmur against her skin, unable to resist giving her one more gentle bite.

She hums, the sound vibrating against your lips. "But where's the fun in that?" she whispers, that familiar playful defiance in her voice.

As she attempts to take a step back, her legs buckle. She grabs your shoulders to steady herself, her usual composure completely absent, the bratty confidence from seconds ago vanishing.

"I can't move," she whispers, voice wrecked, blinking up at you with unfocused eyes. All the sharp edges of her personality momentarily dissolved, leaving her soft and vulnerable in a way no one else ever sees. "My legs won't work."

"Good," you murmur, unable to hide your satisfaction as you press a kiss to her forehead, supporting her weight. You hold her close for a moment, feeling the way she melts against you, completely undone.

After a moment, that familiar glint of mischief gradually returns to her eyes. The transformation is beginning; the desperate, wrecked woman slowly rebuilding herself into the polished idol.

In this moment, with her guard completely down, she looks younger, softer. The harsh fluorescent lighting should be unflattering, but somehow it just makes her look more real—smudged eyeshadow, faint red marks on her throat where your fingers were, her hair disheveled despite her attempts to smooth it. For a few seconds more, she's just yours.

She reaches up, her hand cupping your cheek with surprising tenderness. Her eyes, usually sharp and mischievous, soften as she looks at you. She leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips—so different from the desperate ones you shared minutes ago. This one is deliberate, unhurried.

"I love you," she whispers against your mouth, the words barely audible but unmistakable. It's not something she says often—both of you knowing how dangerous those words can be in your situation.

Your hand comes up to cover hers where it rests against your face, holding her there for a moment. "I love you too," you reply quietly, the words filling the small space between you. "Even when you're being a menace."

Her eyes crinkle at the corners. "Especially when I'm being a menace," she corrects, and you can't help but smile.

You glare at her playfully, and she giggles—the sound at complete odds with what just happened, with the filthy things you both just did, with the woman who was begging for your cock and calling herself your whore minutes ago. The contrast is jarring and perfect; this duality of hers that only you get to witness.

She leans in and kisses you deeply, but without the desperate edge from before. This kiss is softer, a promise.

When she pulls back, you can see the clock ticking in her head. Reality intruding.

"You go first," you say, checking your watch. "They'll be looking for you. The shoot needs to wrap in twenty minutes."

She nods, takes a deep breath, and you watch in fascination as she transforms back into LE SSERAFIM's leader right before your eyes. Her shoulders straighten, her chin lifts, her expression becomes more controlled. It's like watching an actress step into character—except you know both versions are equally real.

She checks her reflection in her phone, adjusts her belt, smooths her hair with practiced precision. Only you would notice the slight tremble in her fingers, the pink marks on her hips where your hands were, the satisfied glow in her eyes that the camera won't quite catch but you can see clearly.

"How do I look?" she asks, voice steady now, almost back to the professional tone she uses with everyone else.

Like she's just been thoroughly fucked. Like her thighs are still sticky with both of you. Like she's hiding a universe of secrets behind that poised expression. Like she's yours.

"Perfect," you say instead, swallowing the possessive thoughts.

She smiles—not the coy smirk from before, but something genuine that crinkles the corners of her eyes. Then it's gone, replaced by the polished mask she wears for everyone else.

Just as you think she's about to leave, she presses one last kiss to your jaw, her fingers trailing down your chest with deliberate slowness. Her lips move to your ear, breath hot against your skin.

"I'll be thinking about this all night," she whispers, voice dropping to that register that makes your pulse quicken despite your recent release. Then, even lower, just for you: "And touching myself the second I get back to the dorm."

Before you can respond, she's slipped out the door with a final squeeze of your hand, leaving you alone in the storage room with her promise echoing in your mind, the scent of sex still hanging in the air, mingling with her perfume.

You give it two minutes before following, clipboard held strategically in front of you, expression carefully neutral as you adjust your own mask—the efficient manager, all business.

By the time you return, Chaewon is already back on set, taking direction for the next shot, nodding professionally at the photographer's instructions. Her posture is immaculate, her expression perfectly calibrated—looking as composed and professional as if she'd just been touching up her makeup instead of being bent over a shelf with your hand prints on her ass.

No one looks at her twice. No one notices the way she stands slightly differently, favoring one leg. No one sees the slight darkening at the base of her throat where your mouth had been.

You watch from behind the monitor, maintaining a careful distance, occasionally checking your phone or making notes on your clipboard. The perfect picture of professionalism.

She gets into position, poised and beautiful under the lights, following direction flawlessly. The camera loves her—captures her elegance, her poise, but misses completely the woman you know.

Then she glances directly at the camera, and for just a second—

The look she gives—half-lidded eyes, the barest hint of teeth catching her lower lip, a fleeting microexpression of remembered pleasure—that's just for you.

And you know, watching her seamlessly return to her perfect idol persona, that you'll both be counting the minutes until you can be alone again.

...

AN: Yes I'm a certified CHAEWON simp. This is strike 3 chaewon from me with more coming.

#cloudtrnsprncy #cloudtsmut #malereader #kpop smut #chaewon x reader #kim chaewon #chaewon #chaewon x male reader #lesserafim #chaewon hot

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fandom · 7 months ago

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Anime and Manga

Delicious in Dungeon is the new Dungeons and Dragons.

Dungeon Meshi +21

Jujutsu Kaisen

One Piece -2

Boku no Hero Academia +1

Bungou Stray Dogs +3

Tian Guan Ci Fu +13

Haikyuu!! +6

The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System +9

Naruto +2

Mob Psycho 100 -7

Mo Dao Zu Shi +1

SPY x FAMILY -6

Attack on Titan +10

JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure -4

Death Note +9

Puella Magi Madoka Magica +16

Yu-Gi-Oh! +9

Chainsaw Man -14

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba -3

Hetalia +10

Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint

Sailor Moon -7

Trigun Stampede -16

Trigun Maximum -3

Fullmetal Alchemist -7

Bocchi the Rock! -6

Black Butler +8

Wind Breaker

Revolutionary Girl Utena +4

Sousou no Frieren

Tokyo Revengers -2

Blue Lock -7

Digimon +1

Yuri!!! on Ice +12

Dragon Ball Z +4

Hunter X Hunter

Witch Hat Atelier +4

Neon Genesis Evangelion -1

Bleach -12

Fairy Tail +5

Inuyasha -3

Detective Conan +5

Soul Eater -3

Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch from Mercury -13

Dorohedoro +3

19 Days -32

Ranma 1/2

Dandadan

Dragon Ball Super

Berserk -6

Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun

Cowboy Bebop

Houseki No Kuni

Cardcaptor Sakura

Lupin III -12

Golden Kamuy

Trigun 98 -15

Hellsing

Yu Yu Hakusho

SK8 the Infinity -10

Yotsuba&!

NANA

Boruto: Naruto Next Generations

Love Live

Tokyo Mew Mew

Love Bullet

Black Clover

One Punch Man

Ouran High School Host Club

Blue Exorcist

Diabolik Lovers

Fate/Stay Night

Gintama

Tokyo Ghoul

Pop Team Epic -26

The Case Study of Vanitas

Little Witch Academia

Higurashi

Kill la Kill

Natsume Yuujinchou

Uzumaki

Fruits Basket

Citrus

Buddy Daddies -75

Hamtaro

Pokémon

Dr. Stone

Mr. Osomatsu

Azumanga Daioh

Reborn!

A Sign of Affection

Monogatari

Oshi no Ko

The Summer Hikaru Died

Devilman

Banana Fish

Noragami

Code Geass

Gurren Lagann

Durarara!!

The number in italics indicates how many spots a title moved up or down from the previous year. Bolded titles weren’t on the list last year.

Do you love One Piece? There are Communities for that. Check 'em out!

#year in review #anime #manga #tumblr2024

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saturnville · 11 months ago

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eeeeeeeekkkkkkkkkkkkkk I’m soooo ready for this

Sakura Dreams 🌸 🇯🇵 🗼Jules Kounde (1/8)

SYNOPSIS: It was supposed to be a guys trip to Japan after a disappointing ending to Euros, however, fate had another thing in mind.

PAIRINGS: Jules Koundé x fem!blackOC (Ayo Pratt) (faceclaim joie.ade)

WARNINGS: cursing, poor google translations, football b.s & drama, flirty!jules, eventual smut. MINORS DNI!!!

TAGLIST: @hopefulromantic1 @lettersofgold @sinflowersugar @mauvecherie-writes @queenshikongo3 @perfecttrashface @alika-4466 @cocobutterqwueen @peyiswriting @that-90s-girllll @leilaxaliel @serpenttines-library @certifiedlesbianbaddie @niahxo @julescpu @jack0357 @chaoticcoffeequeen @greedyjudge2 @yeea-nah @saturnville @taytropicana @trentswrld @cranberryjulce @vile-harlot @2serenity0

A/N: Jules is in Japan, so of course I had to make a short series about it. Also, if you're a Jules girl, please let me know and I'll tag you in more chapters.

The humid air of Tokyo hit Jules like a wall as he stepped off the plane, his muscles aching from the 13-hour flight. Narita International Airport buzzed with activity, a cacophony of announcements in Japanese and English filling the air. Jules popped a cherry dum dum in his mouth, the sweet flavor a small comfort as he trudged alongside his friends Wilhelm, AK, and his half-brother Nicholas towards baggage claim, navigating through the sea of travelers.

"Yo, ce décalage horaire n'est pas une blague (Yo, this jet lag is no joke)," Nicholas grumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"C’est vrai (Facts)," Wilhelm agreed, stifling a yawn.

As they collected their luggage and made their way to the hotel shuttle, Jules couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement beneath the exhaustion. This trip was meant to be a distraction, a way to shake off the disappointment of the Euros and clear his head before the upcoming season with FC Barcelona.

The thought of training camp loomed in the back of his mind. Jules silently prayed for an injury-free season, where he could continue to prove himself and silence the doubters. But for now, he pushed those worries aside. It was time to live in the moment.

The shuttle wound its way through Tokyo's neon-lit streets, skyscrapers towering above them. Jules pressed his forehead against the cool window, watching as businessmen in crisp suits hurried past izakayas and pachinko parlors. The city was a mesmerizing blend of tradition and modernity, and Jules found himself eager to explore.

"Tu penses qu'on aura le temps de visiter les temples? (Do you think we'll have time to visit the temples?)," AK asked, his eyes wide as he took in the city.

"Bien sûr (Of course)," Jules replied. "Nous avons deux semaines (We have two weeks)."

Their hotel, a gleaming high-rise in the trendy Shibuya district, loomed before them. The lobby was a vision of minimalist luxury, all sleek lines and soft lighting. As they approached the check-in counter, dragging their suitcases behind them, Jules's attention was immediately captured by a group of women ahead of them in line.

"Merde (Fuck)," he muttered under his breath, the dum dum stick moving to the corner of his mouth.

There were four of them, all stunning in their own right. But one, in particular, caught his eye. She was fine as hell, with curves that reminded him of Pam Grier in her prime, and her skin was a deep, rich cocoa. Jules's eyes traveled up to her full, pouty lips, currently curved in laughter at something her friend had said. She wore her natural hair in two perfect puffs, giving her this effortless 90s vibe that he found irresistible.

Once the girls finished checking in, Jules couldn't help but notice the others as well. One rocked long braids that cascaded down her back, another sported a short curly style with faded sides that highlighted her cheekbones, and the third had a blonde weave that caught the light as she moved.

"Ce sont tous fraîches (They're all baddies)," AK whispered, nudging Jules.

Jules nodded, his eyes still fixed on the girl with the puffs. There was something about her, an energy that drew him in. As the group of women headed towards the elevators, she turned, and their eyes met. She flashed him a bright smile that made his heart skip a beat, just as the elevator doors closed.

"Jules!" Wilhelm's voice snapped him out of his trance.

"Hein? Quoi? (Huh? What?)"

Wilhelm rolled his eyes. "Ton passeport, mec. La réceptionniste en a besoin (Your passport, man. The receptionist needs it)."

"Ah, oui, bien sûr (Oh, yeah, of course)." Jules fumbled for his passport, his mind still on the mystery girl's smile.

They checked in, and Jules couldn't shake the feeling that this trip might turn out to be more interesting than he'd anticipated.

"On est à quel étage? (What floor are we on?)" Wilhelm asked as they headed to the elevators.

"Le quinzième (Fifteenth)," Nicholas replied, studying the key cards.

As the elevator doors closed, Jules found himself hoping he'd run into the girl with the puffs again. Tokyo was a big city, but stranger things had happened. With a grin, he chewed on the dum dum in his mouth. This vacation was already looking up.

Ayo stepped into the luxurious suite, her eyes widening as she took in the panoramic view of Tokyo's skyline through floor-to-ceiling windows. The city sprawled before them, a mesmerizing tapestry of lights against the darkening sky.

"Damn, this is bougie as hell!" Nikki exclaimed, her long braids swinging as she spun around the spacious living area.

Gigi ran her hand through her blonde weave as she glanced at the sleek furniture. "One Management really hooked us up."

"They better have," Nikki chimed in. "Our girl's about to take over the modeling world."

Ayo smiled modestly, still processing the whirlwind of the past few months. She had recently signed with One Management, a top-tier agency with offices across Europe, Asia, and the US. This trip to Tokyo was a gift from her friends and newest management team, a last hurrah before she moved from New York to London to further her blossoming career.

Symone, sporting a chic short hairstyle with faded sides, squeezed her shoulder. "After that Savage X Fenty show? Girl, the world is your oyster."

Ayo's recent success modeling for Rihanna's lingerie line had catapulted her into a new echelon of the fashion world. It was surreal, exciting, and more than a little terrifying.

"This trip is exactly what I needed before the big move," Ayo said, gratitude welling up in her chest as she looked at her friends. "Thank you guys, seriously."

Symone then made a beeline for the mini-bar. "Girls, we need to celebrate! Shots?"

Ayo chuckled, shaking her head. "Sy, it's barely 6 PM, and we're exhausted from the flight."

"Come on, just one!" Symone pleaded, already pulling out a bottle of Johnny Walker.

Gigi yawned dramatically. "Count me out. I need a nap before dinner."

"Same here," Nikki agreed. "What's the plan for food anyway?"

They quickly decided to eat at the hotel restaurant for their first night, too tired to venture out into the city just yet.

As Gigi and Nikki retreated to their rooms, Ayo found herself drawn back to the window. Her mind wandered to the cute guy with dreads she'd spotted in the lobby. There was something about him…

"Earth to Ayo!" Symone's voice snapped her out of her reverie. "Shot time, bitch!"

Ayo laughed, accepting the glass. "That's my girl," Symone grinned, sticking out her tongue.

They clinked glasses and downed the whiskey, the burn a welcome distraction from Ayo's jet lag. As they settled onto the plush couch, Symone's eyes welled up unexpectedly.

"Who would've thought four girls from Jersey would end up in Tokyo?" she mused, her voice thick with emotion.

Ayo nudged her playfully. "You say that every trip, SySy."

"Because it's true!" Symone insisted, pouring another round. "I'm just… I'm gonna miss you, you know?"

"Oh, SySy," Ayo crooned, wrapping her friend in a tight hug. "I'm gonna miss you too."

Symone sniffled, trying to lighten the mood. "You just had to go to boring-ass London, huh? Old 'God save the King' ass…"

Ayo rolled her eyes affectionately, well-versed in Symone's habit of using humor to deflect her true feelings. They chatted for a while longer, reminiscing about their journey from New Jersey to this moment.

Eventually, Symone yawned. "Alright, I need a power nap before dinner. Don't let me sleep too long!"

As Symone disappeared into her room, Ayo's phone buzzed. She sighed heavily when she saw the name: Jamaal. Her ex, who never seemed to get the hint. Without reading it, she deleted the text.

"Leave the past in the past," she murmured, taking one last shot. It was time to focus on her future – London, One Management, and all the possibilities that lay ahead.

With that thought, Ayo made her way to her bedroom. She barely registered the decor before collapsing face-first onto the plush bed, letting the exhaustion of travel and the warmth of whiskey lull her into a much-needed nap.

A couple of hours later, the girls emerged from their rooms, dressed for dinner at the hotel's restaurant. Ayo wore a sleek black slip dress that hugged her curves, paired with strappy heels. Symone rocked a vibrant yellow pantsuit that complemented her short, faded hairstyle. Gigi opted for a flowy floral maxi dress, her blonde weave styled in loose waves. Nikki chose a chic off-shoulder jumpsuit, her braids swept into an elegant updo.

As they approached the restaurant, they paused to admire its exterior. The design seamlessly blended modern aesthetics with traditional Japanese elements, creating an inviting atmosphere.

"We need a group selfie!" Symone declared excitedly.

Being the tallest, Ayo extended her arm to take the photos. They huddled together, striking poses and laughing. After a few attempts, they scrutinized the results, each finding something to critique.

"Let's try one more," Gigi suggested.

As Ayo prepared to take another shot, a slightly deep voice with a heavy accent called out, "Would you like me to take the photo instead?"

The girls turned towards the voice, and Ayo's breath caught in her throat. It was the guy from the lobby earlier. He was even more striking up close. His dreads were neatly styled, and he wore a Versace button-down with a few buttons undone, revealing a glimpse of his chest and a gold Cuban link chain. His feet were adorned with stylish huaraches. The scent of his cologne wafted over, a intoxicating mix of citrus and wood.

"Damn, he fine as fuck," Symone muttered, not quite under her breath.

The corners of his mouth quirked up, clearly having heard Symone's not-so-discreet comment.

"Sure," Ayo said softly, handing him her phone.

He instructed the girls on how to pose, squatting down to capture different angles. Ayo couldn't help but notice his friends behind him - all different shades of brown, with fresh haircuts and equally stylish outfits.

After taking several photos, he handed the phone back to Ayo with a smile. The girls crowded around, nodding in approval at the results.

"Are they good?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you," Ayo replied, trying to keep her voice steady.

He nodded and rejoined his friends, heading into the restaurant.

"Ooh! He was feeling you," Gigi drawled, fanning herself. "That is a man, Savannah!"

The others laughed in agreement.

"Girl, you neva lied!" Symone concurred. "He a sexy little croissant, huh?" she teased in a fake French accent.

Ayo shook her head, laughing despite herself.

"And he had them eyes for you, Ayo," Nikki added.

"What? No, he didn't," Ayo protested.

"Yes, he did," her friends chorused as they entered the restaurant.

They spotted the guys waiting on a bench as Ayo approached the maître d' to check in.

"Good evening, how many in your party?" the maître d' asked politely.

"Four, please," Ayo replied.

The maître d' checked the reservation list and frowned slightly. "I'm afraid there's a bit of a wait. We have a group of four ahead of you, and it will be about an hour and a half before we can seat you."

Ayo's eyes widened in shock. "An hour and a half?" she repeated, her voice rising slightly.

She turned back to her friends, who were waiting expectantly.

"Girls, we've got a problem," Ayo said, rejoining the group. "They're saying it's going to be a 90-minute wait."

"What?" Symone exclaimed. "Are you serious?"

Gigi groaned. "I'm starving already. I can't wait that long."

Nikki shook her head in disbelief. "There's got to be another option, right?"

One of the guys from the other group - dark-skinned with a faded curly high-top and also sporting a French accent - approached them. "Would you like to get a table together?" he offered.

"Sure!" Symone replied, perhaps too eagerly.

The guy then went over to the maître d'. "Excuse me, do you have a table for eight available?"

The maître d' checked his list and nodded. "Yes, we do. Would you like to be seated now?"

"Oui," he replied with a smile.

The maître d' gathered menus and gestured for the group to follow. "Right this way, please."

As they walked, one of the guys – the one with dreads who had taken their photo – motioned to the girls. "After you, madames," he said with a slight bow and a charming smile.

The girls exchanged excited glances as they followed the maître d', with the guys trailing behind.

"Here we are," the maître d' announced, stopping at a large, circular table. "Your server will be with you shortly. Enjoy your meal."

As they settled into their seats, Ayo found herself next to the dreaded Adonis. Her heart skipped a beat as she caught another whiff of his intoxicating cologne.

"I hope you don't mind us crashing your dinner," he said softly, his accent making the words sound like music.

Ayo smiled, trying to keep her composure. "Not at all. Thanks for the save."

As the rest of the group got comfortable, Ayo silently prayed that her friends – especially Symone – wouldn't embarrass her too much during dinner. But judging by the mischievous glint in Symone's eye from across the table, Ayo knew she was in for an interesting evening.

The group settled in, perusing their menus in comfortable silence. After a few moments, the guy with the faded curly high-top, spoke up.

"Maybe we should introduce ourselves properly. I'm AK," he said with a warm smile.

The tawny-toned guy with the tapered 'fro nodded. "Wilhelm."

"Nicholas," added the dark-skinned guy with the lowcut fade.

"And I'm Jules," said the cutie with the dreads next to Ayo.

The girls followed suit, each introducing themselves in turn.

As they finished, a waiter approached. "Good evening. May I take your drink order?"

Symone piped up immediately. "We'll have sake for the table, please!"

Half the girls groaned in unison. Nikki shot Symone a look. "Girl, are you trying to get us all fucked up?"

Symone pointed to herself innocently, while Gigi gave her a knowing look. The guys chuckled, exchanging comments in French.

Nikki glanced at each of them. "Hey, hey, none of that oui oui stuff, alright? English only."

Nicholas put up his hands in mock defense. "Damn, baby girl, we don't want no smoke."

Nikki gave him a flirtatious smile in response, and Ayo stared at Gigi in a silent plea to watch her cousin. Nikki was known for being a bit... frisky. If Symone was the loudmouth of the group, Nikki was the self-proclaimed "hoe" - and they meant that with all due respect.

The waiter continued taking orders. Jules requested a rum and coke, his accent making Ayo shiver slightly. She ordered a vodka, lime, and soda water.

Ayo felt Jules' arm rest at the back of her seat, his fingers lightly touching the exposed skin of her neck. "Is this okay?" he asked softly.

"Y-yeah, sure," she managed to reply.

As they waited for their drinks, the conversation flowed. The guys asked what brought the girls to Tokyo, and they explained Ayo's modeling career and celebrating her recent signing to a new management agency.

"Savage X Fenty? That's impressive," Wilhelm said. "Did you meet Rihanna?"

Ayo nodded. "Yeah, I met the whole fam, including A$AP Rocky and their two little ones. The kids are adorable, and Rihanna's really nice."

Nikki chimed in, "Rihanna even follows Ayo on Insta."

The guys' eyebrows raised in admiration.

Symone turned the question back on them. "What about you guys? What brings you to Tokyo?"

The men exchanged glances before AK answered, "It's a guys' trip before work makes us all busy again." They seemed reluctant to elaborate, and the girls didn't push further.

The waiter returned with their drinks, including a large bottle of sake. With practiced precision, he began the traditional sake pouring ceremony. He held the tokkuri (sake bottle) with both hands, turning it slightly as he poured into each person's ochoko (small sake cup). The liquid flowed smoothly, filling each cup precisely to the brim without spilling a drop.

As the waiter finished pouring, he took their food orders. They chose a mix of family-style dishes to share and individual entrees. Ayo ordered the miso-glazed black cod, while Jules opted for the wagyu beef teppanyaki. The table also agreed on an assortment of sushi rolls, tempura, and a large bowl of ramen to share.

Jules' arm tightened around the back of Ayo's seat, and he leaned closer to her. Symone caught Ayo's eye from across the table, mouthing "Get it!" with a suggestive waggle of her eyebrows. Ayo immediately shook her head, inwardly reminding herself that the last thing she needed was to end up with a guy on this trip. That was more Nikki's style, and besides, even though they were sharing a meal, these guys were still strangers.

The waiter approached their table once more, arms laden with steaming dishes. "Pardon me, your meals are ready."

He began setting down the plates, announcing each dish as he placed them on the table. "Miso-glazed black cod for the lady, wagyu beef teppanyaki for the gentleman. And here are your shared dishes: assorted sushi rolls, tempura, and a large bowl of ramen."

The group's eyes widened at the sight and aroma of the food. "This looks amazing," Ayo breathed, picking up her chopsticks.

They began to dig in and the conversation turned to their plans for the next couple of weeks.

Nicholas swallowed a bite of sushi before speaking. "So, what's on your itinerary while you're here?"

Symone counted off on her fingers. "Well, we're doing Tokyo for a few days, then Kyoto, and finishing up in Osaka."

"No way," Nicholas replied, his eyebrows raised. "That's pretty much exactly what we're doing too."

Gigi's eyes lit up. "We should totally link up again! Since we're headed to the same places and all."

Wilhelm nodded enthusiastically, pausing from his tempura. "That's not a bad idea at all. What do you guys think?"

"I'm down," AK chimed in. "It'd be cool to explore with some new friends."

Jules smiled, his eyes lingering on Ayo. "Sounds good to me. I'd like to get to know you all a bit better." As he spoke, his tongue darted out to lick his top lip seductively.

Ayo felt her cheeks warm, and she quickly took a sip of her drink to hide her reaction. "Yeah, that could be fun," she managed to say, trying to keep her voice steady.

Suddenly, a buzz in Ayo's lap made her jump slightly. She glanced down at her phone to see a text in their group chat from Symone: "BIIIIIITTTTTTTCCCCCCCCHHHHHH!"

Another message quickly followed from Nikki: "Jules wants to eat you up like a creme brulee. Give that nigga a bite, sis! 😉"

Ayo shook her head, choosing not to reply to the thread. Her mind was racing. She knew she shouldn't do anything with Jules, but the way he occasionally caressed her skin, his intense stares, and those full lips he kept licking were seriously testing her resolve. She reminded herself that the least of her worries should be surrounding men; she needed to focus on her move to London and securing her bag.

As they continued eating, the conversation flowed easily, punctuated by laughter and casual flirtation. Jules and Ayo found themselves engrossed in their own private conversation.

"So, London, huh?" Jules murmured, his breath warm against her ear. "That's quite a change from New York."

Ayo nodded, trying to ignore the shiver that ran down her spine. "Yeah, it's a big move. But it's an amazing opportunity for my career."

"I'm sure you'll take London by storm," he said, his fingers tracing light patterns on her shoulder. "They won't know what hit them."

Ayo laughed softly, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks. "We'll see about that. What about you? What do you do?"

Jules hesitated for a moment before answering. "I'm in sports."

"Oh?" Ayo raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What kind?"

A small smile played on his lips. "Football."

Ayo's eyes widened slightly. She might not follow European football closely, but even she knew that was a big deal. "Wow, that's impressive."

There was still a bit of mystery beyond his answer, but Ayo still found herself increasingly drawn to Jules. His charm was undeniable, and the way he looked at her made her feel like the only person in the room, but a small voice in the back of her mind kept reminding her of her goals, her impending move, and the complications that could arise from a vacation fling. However, she couldn't help but wonder what might happen if she allowed herself to give in to the temptation sitting right next to her. Jesus knows that it's been too long since she was physical with a man, and her rose toy needed a break.

Fuck me.

This was going to be a long ass two weeks.

After dinner, Jules settled the bill and the group hailed a taxi to head to a nearby club. This wasn't just any taxi—it was one of those karaoke taxis, complete with neon lights and a vibrant interior. The seats were plush, covered in shiny, colorful fabric that reflected the pulsating lights. Microphones hung from the ceiling, ready for an impromptu performance, and small screens displayed lyrics. Jules and Ayo squeezed into the very back seat, their bodies pressed close in the tight space.

Gigi and Symone began belting out Muni Long's "Made for Me," their off-key voices filling the cab.

"Twin… where have you been? Nobody loves me like you do…"

Nikki groaned, "I didn't come to Tokyo for this sad shit. Driver, can you play something else?"

The driver responded in broken English, "You like Megan Thee Stallion?"

A chorus of enthusiastic "Hell yes!" and "Yeah!" erupted from the girls. The driver grinned and switched the music, blasting Megan Thee Stallion's latest hits. Symone and Gigi immediately started twerking, teasing the guys to turn up. The guys laughed, hyping them up and taking their phones out to record the antics. Jules shook his head in mock disappointment, but his eyes were full of amusement.

When they finally made it to the club, AK tipped the driver generously before Jules covered their entrance fee. Inside, pulsing lights and thumping bass greeted them. They secured a small booth, and a server quickly approached to take their drink orders. Jules ordered a round for the table.

Jules found himself having a great time, but his attention kept drifting to Ayo. He loved the way her name felt on his tongue, and he couldn't help but admire how stunning she looked. The flirting at dinner had left him wanting more, her scent and their brief touches lingering in his mind.

Taking a big swig of his drink, Jules leaned closer to Ayo. "Are you having fun?" he asked.

She nodded with a smile. "Yeah, I am."

"You seem like the quieter one in your group. Am I right?"Ayo nodded again, and Jules chuckled. "Same here with my friends. Don't worry, I'll do the talking for both of us."

Ayo giggled at that, and Jules felt a warmth spread through his chest at the sound. He winked at her, enjoying their growing connection and the easy rapport between them.

The music shifted from the heavy bass of a hip-hop song to the smooth, infectious rhythm of Afrobeats. Jules inclined his head towards the semi-filled dance floor. "Do you want to dance with me?"

"Huh?" Ayo said, surprised.

"Dance? With me?" Jules repeated.

Ayo hesitated. "No."

"Please?" he pleaded, giving her a puppy dog look. "Here, take a shot to take the edge off," he said, pouring her a shot.

Ayo accepted the shot tentatively, then shrugged and downed it quickly. She grimaced as the alcohol burned its way down, and Jules chuckled lightly. "C'mon, ma belle," he coaxed, leading her to the dance floor.

"C'est parti, Jules! (Here we go, Jules!)" Nicholas commented, patting Jules on the back as he led Ayo to the middle of the dance floor. Jules gestured with his finger for her to turn around. Ayo did as instructed, feeling Jules's front flush against her back, his hips moving into a slow wine, tempting her to do the same with her hips.

"Fuck," he murmured in her ear, his whiskey-scented breath teasing her and making her arousal grow. "You're so sexy, Ayo."

Ayo smiled as his hands on her waist tightened and his hips ground harder against her, allowing her to feel his hardened dick at the crack of her ass. Jules inwardly hissed at the friction, taking a deep inhale of her scent as they moved to the beat.

He was hard beyond measure, his length straining against the confines and his pant's zipper and all he yearned for was to be buried to the hilt inside of her. After tonight, Jules knew it would be hard not to want her. He affirmed to himself that a little vacation fling was exactly what he needed before the season started.

TO BE CONTINUED...

#jules kounde fanfic #jules kounde #jules kounde x black reader #jules kounde x black oc #sakura dreams #footballer x black reader #football x reader #football fanfic #fcbarcelona fanfic #emjayewrites

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stunie · 1 year ago

Text

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁ “DID YOU JUST FAKE THAT, PRINCESS?”

WINDBREAKER BOYS + FAKING AN ORGASM. ft. hayato suo, sakura haruka, togame jo, & umemiya hajime x f!reader

content: explicit smut (18+), overstimulation, squirting, fingering, cunninglingus, phone call / keep quiet, mirror sex, multiple rounds, creampies, usage of pet names, praise

part 1: ft. yamato endo, kiryuu mitsuki, & kaji ren

mdni - 2K wc . filled request! (i added togame) :>

HAYATO SUO. mirror sex

"h-how!”

your reaction is adorable, drawing a lighthearted chuckle from your boyfriend. you squirm a bit, face pressed uncomfortably against your vanity’s mirror as you’re bent over your own desk, a smiling suo looming right over you.

"well...you didn't replicate it very well," he coos, "i'm surprised you thought i would fall for that."

you narrow your eyes at him in disbelief. there was absolutely no chance that he was able to differentiate between a real one and a fake one— you’re certain of it. you had even mimicked the way your walls flutter around him whenever he pushes you off the edge.

“don’t believe me?” his voice comes out steady, cock prodding at your entrance, “i’ll show you.”

you gasp at the feeling of his length stretching your walls, pushing until just the tip is inside. he’s holding you tightly, not letting you move when you impatiently try and push your hips back for more.

“s-suo,” you blurt, “stop teasi—”

all at once, he’s slamming his hips into you, your tongue lolling out when he’s buried deep inside you. he doesn’t give you time to steady yourself before he sets a brutal pace, fingers coming to swipe perfectly at your clit. “see?” his voice comes out cheerful despite the way he’s bullying his length into you so roughly, “this is closer to the kind of faces you make for me.”

it’s all happening too fast. before you know it, you’re shivering and whining beneath him, arms knocking over your bottles of skincare as you try to brace yourself to take him. he’s awfully composed, subtly angling himself to slam against the spot that has you seeing stars. your orgasm approaches you so fast, faster than ever before, and it’s overwhelming.

“w-wait, suo, slow down—” you stammer, thighs shaking violently as the knot inside you threatens to snap. “it’s too much! ‘m gonna-”

“and you know? when i do this,” he interrupts sweetly, fingers coming to rub at your clit just as his cock pushes against a sensitive spot, “you’ll cum for me.”

it hits you in an instant, eyes widening when the familiar wave crashes through you, walls spasming against his length as you scream. your vision is still a blur even when he slows down his pace, dotted with white and black splotches. you can barely register what’s happening when suo’s hands come to run up and down your body as he sighs contentedly.

“see? like that,” he nods, “it’s easy.”

his length is still inside you, switching to slow and steady thrusts as you tremble beneath him. "don't worry. i'll show you again so you remember."

SAKURA HARUKA. squirting, cunninglingus, fingering

sakura’s fingers leave your clit the second he realizes something isn’t right, because you’re usually much louder and messier than this. he pulls back from your cunt for a second, head hot and blurry from nerves, and the violent blush across his face deepens as he forces himself to get a closer look at your cunt.

it all makes sense when he realizes he was touching the wrong spot— most likely due to the fact that his eyes had been clenched shut.

“y-you didn’t tell me,” he grumbles out of embarrassment, gaze shifting anywhere except on you. even with an apology and the explanation that you just wanted to make him more comfortable, the thought of how’d you look actually cumming on his face doesn’t leave his head.

he’s buried in your cunt now, your thighs clenched tightly around his head as he fucks his fingers deep into you. sakura had no idea just how addicting it would be when you first mentioned it to him— each moan that leaves your lips more sinful and loud than the last. it has his cock throbbing with need, forcing him to grind his hips against the mattress to relieve the frustrating ache.

“oh my god…” you mumble to no one in particular, mouth falling open when he pushes his tongue inside your cunt, eating you out with more intensity as his fingers come to press into your clit. “sakura—”

it’s dizzying, but he wants more. his free hand comes to dig into your ass, lifting you up a bit so he hold you flush against his face, licking and slurping at your cunt even as your thighs squeeze roughly against his head. “ah— fuck, sakura, w-wait!”

the way he’s eating you out feels different than what you’re familiar with. the knot in your core feels tighter, you feel wetter— he feels better. your hands come to desperately tug at his hair when it’s too much, and his eyes widen when you unintentionally push him deeper into your cunt.

the pressure of his tongue flicking against your clit one last time is all it takes for you to scream, cunt gushing into him as he licks and suckles at your clit. your walls flutter around nothing, your body numbing from the intensity— but your boyfriend looks the opposite.

“again,” his voice is just above a growl, cheeks still glowing red with embarrassment, “let me practice again.”

TOGAME JO. phone call / keep quiet, overstim

the sudden ringing of his phone catches the attention of the two of you, screen lighting up brightly as it vibrates against the mattress. togame’s thrusts slow down a bit, reaching to fish it from somewhere underneath the blankets to check the caller.

"ah, it's choji."

his voice comes out completely normal, as if he wasn’t balls deep inside your cunt just moments ago. it’s almost irritating how limitless his stamina is; your body numb and overstimulated since long ago, and all you’re able to do now is lay there and take what he gives you.

it takes all your energy to try and pull away from him to let him take the call, struggling a bit with the way his big frame is towering over yours, but he suddenly pulls your hips back against his own.

“jo!” you warn through a hushed whisper, eyes narrowing into a glare as the cheerful melody of his ringtone repeats itself again. your eyes widen when he puts a finger to his lips to silence you, and you realize that he’s planning on answering it without stopping.

a hand wraps around your neck, pulling you up until your back is flush against his chest, his thickness nestled right against your cervix with the angle. “gonna stay nice and quiet for me while i answer choji,” he coos into the shell of your ear, “won’t you?”

“because we’re not done just yet..”

your body falls back onto the mattress when he lets go, and you grasp onto one of your pillows to stuff your face into when he resumes his pace, starting slow and deep.

“choji?” togame asks, lifting the phone to his ear to tuck it between his shoulder casually. “ah..today?”

his hands hold your hips firmly as he picks up the pace, balls slapping against your clit as his tip prods at your cervix with each movement, and you can only hope it’s not loud enough for the mic to pick up. togame feels differently than usual, the drag and stretch of his length against your walls much more noticeable when you’re trying to keep quiet.

“that’s really last minute….mhm,” a small grunt forces its way out, “i’ll come after i finish what i’m doing here.”

there’s a sharp thrust of his hips and you can’t help the little yelp that escapes your lips. togame stiffens above you, hands gripping your hips to keep you still as the two of you wait to see if choji had heard you.

“noise…? nah, it must have been my phone. it’s old.”

your thighs are trembling against his, knot inside your core still threatening to snap even after he’s ripped orgasm after orgasm from you. “let me check the door though. hold on,” togame clicks the mute button before tossing his phone beside your head, suddenly pounding into you with more strength.

“f-fuck!” you cry when his cock hits a particular spot inside you, and you’re cumming just like that, gushing around him and screaming as your walls fluttering wildly against him. there’s a deep groan from him as he clenches his jaw, pace not faltering as he rapidly approaches his own high.

he lets you fall limp onto the bed, mind numb from each orgasm he’s pulled from you after your stunt tonight. “you gotta stay quiet,” he rasps, hands still holding your hips up for him, “wouldn’t want choji to hear you getting stuffed full for the third time tonight, right?”

his words send a shiver down your spine, walls clenching around his length at the thought. you’re so tired, too tired to do anything except cling onto the sheets beneath you, and you know he’s not even close to his limit.

“…or would you like choji to hear…?”

you shake your head quickly, drawing a small chuckle from togame. he picks up his phone again, giving you a warning squeeze around your hips before he’s unmuting his mic. “ahh…” he starts, “it was nothing. anyways, i’ll see you later, choji. i’m hanging up.”

he hangs up abruptly, letting out a deep groan he didn’t know he’s been holding in for the last minute when he feels your walls eagerly flutter around his length. togame’s quick to cage you underneath him, strong arms planted on either side of your head as his pace begins to falter, hips stuttering as he quickly approaches his high.

“so impatient…squeezing my dick like that. want me to fill you up nice and full, huh?”

UMEMIYA HAJIME. creampie, pet names, multiple rounds

"c'mon," umemiya grunts from above you, hips slowing their movement against yours, "you know you can't convince me with something like that."

he's gentle when he lowers himself onto his forearms, forehead pressing against yours as if searching for his answer. your bottom lip curls into a small frown, eyes shifting their gaze away from your boyfriend. he's always so good— knows exactly how to get you trembling underneath him in an instant, and you hate it. you hate the way your expression starts to contort and the way he’s pulling the most lewd sounds from you.

"it's embarrassing," you murmur, voice barely above a whisper, "the faces i make."

his eyes widen a bit at the confession, as if the idea of you being embarrassed wasn’t even a possibility in the first place. there's a experimental thrust of his hips, his cock nudging your cervix, and you can't help the small gasp that escapes.

“i don’t think that,” he coos, heavy cock stretching you so perfectly as he starts to move against you again, “don’t be shy.”

"f-fuck.." you gasp, because he feels too good. his chest is slick with sweat, the muscles of his arms flexing beside your head as he gazes down on you, intent on gauging each and every reaction his cock rips from you. “that’s good,” he whispers when your eyebrows furrow at the stimulation, “just like that. keep your eyes on me.”

he's getting rougher with each roll of his hips, thick length reaching impossibly deep inside your cunt. the back of your hand comes to cover your mouth when you feel the familiar knot tightening in your core, eyes clenching shut to fight it.

"nuh uh," ume's voice comes out a little breathless from the pace, his hands coming to pry yours off of your face, "no more hiding from me."

"u-ume," you protest with a huff, legs wrapping around his middle to keep him deep inside you, "just give it to me. please?"

he chuckles a bit, big hand coming to squeeze at your face, puckering your lips out. "oh, i will— i’ll give you what you need, pretty thing," he grunts when your walls flutter around his cock at the nickname, "so keep your eyes on me."

his fingers stay around your face, angling your head to face him when he sets a rough pace, balls slapping against your skin with each movement.

"wanna see you nice and clear when you cum for me, okay?"

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writerpeach · 30 days ago

Text

Obsession

LE SSERAFIM Miyawaki Sakura x m!reader

22k words

---

Read on AO3

"More wine, sir?"

The waitress stands beside your table, patient as can be when you hand her your empty glass, and it’s full again before you blink.

You’ll need every drop tonight.

Seated at some exclusive restaurant overlooking the city skyline, you’re surrounded by others—colleagues, business partners, mostly unfamiliar faces. Sakura sits beside you, elegant and adorned in black. One leg crossed neatly over the other, her wine glass untouched. She hasn't said much to you in the last fifteen minutes, but her hand rests possessively on your thigh beneath the table, reminding you she's here. Despite it being an almost weekly occurrence, you've never been able to get used to these sorts of situations.

And when the waitress leaves the table, that hand squeezes a little firmer, demanding your attention. Sakura turns, and you glance her way.

"Enjoying yourself?" she asks, but it's not really a question. The grip on your thigh is all too telling, and it doesn't waver when you try to shift the slightest bit under the table.

"No, not really."

It's the truth, and Sakura would know better if you tried to play this off. Her lips curl into the smallest of smiles, eyes narrowing as her thumb rubs idly along your inner thigh. She's dressed to kill tonight. A tight, figure-flattering dress, clingy in all the best ways, but showing just a hint of cleavage. Narrow straps resting over her bare shoulders, long, silky, dark hair drapes loose behind her neck, with that sheen on her lips that makes them look even fuller than normal.

Gorgeous doesn't even begin to describe it.

"I know these events aren't particularly enjoyable for you," Sakura replies, sighing with something akin to annoyance. Her wine glass lifts to her painted lips, just the smallest sip, crimson as the lipstick smeared onto the rim. "But I appreciate you coming with me anyways. It's only another hour."

Only an hour. The wine glass still feels pretty heavy in your hand, and the thought of spending another minute like this sounds like torture. You give a resigned nod regardless. Sakura turns her gaze elsewhere—someone trying to catch her attention across the table.

Sipping your wine is about the only thing you have any interest in.

You rest a hand atop Sakura's, as if it's the only thing keeping you sane right now. A small glance to smile again, like she's silently rewarding your bravery, then back to those conversations that you can't begin to contribute to.

Somehow, you manage to get through it all—if only for dessert you hear being ordered for the entire table. By the time it arrives, you've finished a second glass of wine, and Sakura's is still almost full, lingering idly between those delicate fingers, like it's all for show. Nothing else to do but indulge, at least. Especially when she feeds you the first bite.

It's the sweetest of bliss when she excuses the two of you an hour and ten minutes later, ignoring the comments of surprise and pleas for her to stick around. She doesn't have time for that, and neither do you.

"Benefits of being the boss. People don't ask too many questions."

There's not much you can do but agree. When those glossy lips crash against your own, it has you a bit lost, distracted in the moment. But before you can really fall deeper into the heat of her kiss, she's pulling away—the slightest hint of that lip gloss transferred onto you.

"You're quiet tonight."

"Am I?"

There's a pause. Sakura looks into your eyes, like she's trying to stare inside your soul. But she can't seem to find anything, turning on her heels to lead the way once the elevator opens.

"You were. Come."

Sakura's heels clack at a quick, almost impatient pace across the smooth, marble floor. You follow close behind, gaze inevitably drifting along those tantalizing hips and that dangerously short dress. You're not quite sure you'll ever get over her legs—silk stockings barely hiding that flawless skin, enough of a distraction that it takes you a moment to notice that she's waiting by the valet booth.

It doesn't take long for a sleek, black convertible to pull up, and you wait with her at the curb until the keys are handed over. She stops you at the door, holding her hand out expectantly with a silent stare.

"I'm driving. You've had too much to drink," Sakura chides, the slightest touch of disapproval in her eyes. Yet, she’s not wrong, given she barely finished half a glass while you can feel the lingering effects much more. Still, the way she says it still feels a bit condescending, like you've failed some test you didn't even know existed.

So you keep quiet and simply obey, passing her the keys as you saunter over to the passenger side, easing yourself into the plush leather of the seat. She waits until the two of you are both settled in, car purring to life and seatbelts secured.

"Good boy."

The apartment door barely shuts behind you, and then her mouth's on your neck again. Sakura can't seem to keep her hands off you once you're alone, but her kisses are possessive, teeth scraping, nails digging into your scalp as she drags her fingers through your hair. You can't deny the enjoyment of her pinning your body against the closed door, trapped by the weight of her lithe figure against the wooden surface.

Just like that, she pulls away as fast as she started. Sakura stares hard at you, lip gloss smudged across her lips while you wait in the deafening quiet.

“So—" Sakura starts as she holds on to the kitchen counter and steps out of her heels. “You were enjoying yourself tonight, weren't you?"The question lingers more than it should, and the answer is anything but yes—but the hesitation sparks suspicion in her eyes.

"No, not—"

Sakura doesn’t give you a chance to finish. What’s next is a rough slap across your face that snaps you out of any protest that might be forming—a complete 180 from a second ago. The sting doesn't even register as much as her words do.

“You let her touch you.”

Her? You freeze. With how many people had been around tonight, that could’ve been anyone. Not to mention you’re not exactly in the business of letting anyone other than Sakura lay a finger on you.

"Who are you even talking about?”

There's another sharp slap that shuts you right up. Once again, you can’t even begin to process her words, because there’s only one person you’re interested in, and that’s Sakura. But you scatter to form a checklist in your mind: the waitress, one of Sakura’s colleagues, maybe someone in passing—you don't have a clue. The last hour of that whole event was such a blur that you’ve pushed out any thoughts that don’t involve that delicious slice of cake or Sakura.

"Don't act clueless. The blonde across the table? With her fake fucking tits falling out of her dress who kept trying to undress you with her eyes? Ring a bell, yet?" Sakura's words are cold and accusatory, and it's like she's telling an entirely different story than what happened tonight.

"That blonde? She was drunk," you insist, wondering why Sakura is so concerned with something so preposterous . "I didn't—"

A third slap. This one connects hard enough to make you stumble back. You've gotten your fair share of jealousy in the past from Sakura. Hell, you've even seen her practically ready to pounce at another girl just for breathing the same air as you do. And now? The venomous way she looks at you, and talks to you. It's unnerving.

“What, are her tits better than mine?”

“No, of course not. Your tits are fine—“

If you could choose the moment your world stopped, it would have been half a second after those words fell out. Unfortunately, that’s all Sakura needs to really lose it.

"Fine? Fine!?" The sound of her voice cracking breaks the deafening silence, and if you hadn't done anything before—well, you certainly have now. There's no return from this. "No, my tits are fucking perfect. If they were just fine, she wouldn't have had you so worked up in front of a table full of my subordinates. She's married, you know. But I guess you were too busy staring at her plastic fucking tits to even notice the ring that whore pretends to care about. "

"Sakura, I—"

"Don't fucking lie to me," Sakura hisses through clenched teeth. "That's my secretary. She's the type that can't take no for an answer, and I won't have her thinking you're fair game. You let her touch you. And worse, you smiled.”

Each word that comes out her mouth just gets more heated, like the accusation is more and more real each time one gets added. Her hands ball into fists, trying to stop herself from giving you another hard slap. “I don’t care what excuse you think you have. You belong to me.”

You can't even get another word out before Sakura pulls you away from the front door and drags you down the hall toward the bedroom. She practically throws you inside. Her manicured fingernails slide up under your chin, scratching along the edge of your cheek as she tilts your face upwards, until you're staring at her dead in the eye.

“Strip.”

You freeze, just for a second—long enough for her to slap you again.

“I said strip. Now."

There's no room for argument. Not that you'd dare say another word. Your clothes hit the floor one piece at a time, and Sakura watches each layer that leaves you more exposed. Once you're left in nothing but your underwear, she grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks, snapping your head back without warning.

“I think you need a reminder of who you belong to.”

Another icy glare, and then you're shoved down onto your knees on the carpeted floor. Sakura towers over you, immediately lifting a foot and resting it square on your chest until she presses hard enough for you to collapse back onto the floor. And then the weight of her stocking-clad foot rests right on your face, until there's nothing you can really do—except breathe her in.

Not even a second to react as Sakura glares daggers at you from above and grinds her foot roughly across your lips. Her painted toes, all wrapped in silk, press harder, prying into your mouth to silence any potential response. You try to gasp for a breath, barely managing to once the scent of her foot starts filling your senses.

Shoving her foot deeper against your face, she’s waiting for an answer you can't give. Your vision soon gets consumed by dark fabric, and even though it's suffocating, the warm weight of her silky sole still has the capacity to arouse you. A moment later, she yanks her foot back from your mouth, finally granting you a brief chance to catch a few desperate gasps of air.

"Open your mouth. Wide," Sakura orders. You do as instructed, and as soon as your lips part, she leans in close. She spits right into your mouth—once, then again, the third landing on your cheek. “Swallow."

Without even thinking, you do as she asks. Because you always do.

“Good boy. Now tell me—who do you belong to?"

“Y-you, fuck, I belong to you."

"Wrong fucking answer," Sakura spits out, and her foot shoves right back onto your face, toes digging in harder. "Try again. Who. Do. You. Belong. To?"

Your lips fumble against the ball of her foot, desperate to spit out the right words when the weight leaves for another fleeting moment. “M-mommy owns me,” you stumble out, louder this time. “I belong to mommy. Only mommy, no one else."

There it is. The one word that makes Sakura's glare lighten up the tiniest bit. Her lips curl up into something resembling a small smirk, only for the pressure to come back tenfold, leaving you in this twisted combination of arousal and fear. The weight of her foot lingers with your nose practically buried into her arch. "Not a very good boy today if I have to fucking remind you, are you?"

But instead of easing her foot away to allow a response, Sakura only brings her toes back into your lips, hoping you'll get the message. Which you do—of course, because anything else would be a foolish mistake. So instead, you part your lips for the thin nylon covering the pretty pink polish, sucking as best you can in your position.

It's sloppy and desperate, and only lasts a moment longer before the taste disappears from your mouth as she yanks her foot away. "That's all you get. My little foot worshiping slut can suck my pretty toes later. I know how much this turns you on, so that's why we're stopping here.”

Sakura ignores your disappointed groan, sliding her foot down to your chest and shifting her weight to press harder. "Stay right there. Don't move. If you even think about touching yourself, you'll have a lot more problems than you started with."

All you can do is watch as she slides one strap of her dress off her bare shoulder, then the other, the entire thing crumpling to the floor in a matter of seconds. Underneath the fallen fabric, you get a view of a nearly naked Sakura, pink satin holding her shapely breasts up, a flimsy matching thong clinging to the curve of her hips, with pretty pink flowers along the lace.

It's pretty—as expected, because anything Sakura wears is. It’s hard to resist staring, but you know that’s the whole point. She wants you to fall for the sight and beg.

"You're not allowed to leave this spot without my permission. Are we clear?"

"Y-yes."

"Yes, what?" Sakura demands, kicking the dress to the side so she can straddle your waist, just a little tease to let you feel the wetness between her legs.

"Yes, mommy. Crystal clear."

"Was that so hard? So you can be a good boy when you want.”

Easing up her weight, she lifts off to slide her panties down her creamy legs, all while watching your flustered features.

Sakura positions into a squat—right above your face. Her immaculate thighs straddle your head as she inches her ass down inch by slow inch, and soon you're met with the delicious sight of her wet cunt barely grazing your lips. "Keep your tongue out. Maybe if you do a good job making me cum—you'll get to do the same."

No time for an answer when the rest of her weight follows, filling the room with the sinfully sweet sounds of her moans.

Your mouth has never gotten such a workout as Sakura grinds her slick cunt along the surface of your tongue, wrapping her hands around the sides of your head to lock you in place. She tastes like heaven, and god, your cock is aching and begging to slide into that wet heat, for more than just this lingering taste on your lips.

But she's careful to not let you get more than you deserve. Even as you're suffocated with this intoxicating scent and her nails dig deep into your scalp, you don't try to get selfish. Just small laps along the soft, dripping flesh of her cunt, listening to her every instruction, to every pleasure-filled sigh.

"Fuck, such a good boy,” Sakura moans, squeezing your head tight between her warm thighs. "Need to make it up to mommy after what you did, hm? Hope you haven't forgotten I get to use you however I want. Whenever I want. No matter where we are, or whatever you're doing. You’re my obedient little toy to have my way with.”

How could you ever forget your place, your purpose?

Always in the back of your mind—a reminder in the form of a collar or rope burning into your skin, or when she slips a hand in your pants without warning, sliding them off so she can ride you. Even if that's during a bus ride or when a taxi is dropping her home. A little extra tip to keep the cabbie quiet, or even at a bookstore—where she demands your fingers in the manga section until she cums hard.

That applies more now than it ever has, using your face to get herself off.

Words hardly matter once her pleasure really starts building. All that matters is her wetness smearing along every bit of your features, lips open and tongue lapping anything and everything it can, the scent enough to drive you mad. Sakura just uses you like her own personal toy, grinding and rolling her hips onto the length of your tongue with no rhythm in the slightest. And the harder you're pinned against the carpet, the harder your cock throbs without any touch.

"Ah, fuck—that's it. Good boy. Making mommy feel so good, aren't you? Keep sucking my clit just like that, god," she sighs, riding your face faster until her moans get just a little more out of control, nearly drowning you with the warm, dripping arousal spilling from her cunt.

Nothing you can do but listen and keep your tongue out. That’s your purpose, what a toy exists for, to be used at Sakura’s whims, to keep her thighs locked around your head to ride your face with no relent.

"Can't even breathe right now, can you? Maybe that's how you should stay. Mommy's dumb little fucktoy, on your back where you belong, worshiping me like the goddess I deserve to be treated like. And If you're really lucky, might bend you over and get my strap in that tight ass."

That all sounds perfect. But you know she'll make you work for that. That's no issue—because the longer she's satisfied, the bigger your reward will be. Even if she doesn't grant that, you don't care. Her pleasure is the only thing you can think about, and all you can do is lick and slurp, fueled by this delectable taste that makes you insatiable for more.

And when Sakura's hips roll with that same ferocious pace, you know she's starting to give you her all. "Right there, fuck. Gonna cum, you're gonna make mommy cum on your pathetic fucking face. Don't you dare stop. Don't stop, don't stop, yes, fuck—"

A last loud, pleased sigh is all that it takes for her thighs to clamp tight enough to steal your breath away. Sakura lets out a moan that fills the entire room—toes curling against the carpet as she rocks herself through the shudders and moans. Nothing quite like the feeling of her convulsing on your tongue, that beautiful face contorting in bliss, nails digging into your skull when you're locked between her thighs with the drenching spill of her slick across your tongue.

You've never been more happy to be covered in her, in the sweet essence that doesn't seem to have any end in sight. If anything, her thighs grip tighter as you drink down each and every drop with long, devoted laps like you'll simply die without it. Sakura lingers in that moment, letting the high take over as her eyes drift over your messy face.

"Good boy," she mutters under her ragged breaths, tangling her fingers through your hair. A moment to gather herself, and then she's lifting herself away with an unsteady movement in her legs. "Got a little messy for me, didn't you?"

You nod, almost disappointed that you can’t breathe her in again. "F-fuck, you taste so good, mommy, W-want more—"

Sakura ignores such a request. Her thumb slips between your lips, forcing you to be quiet as she gazes at the mess all along your lips and chin. "That's too bad. I'm already done, and we can't have you being greedy now. Mommy is tired and needs to shower after a long night out, so you'll just have to take care of yourself. Feel free to jerk off on my panties or whatever you need to do. That's all the reward you get."

It takes everything not to whine in protest, trying to hold in the frustration as Sakura gets back on her feet. She picks up her discarded dress, turning to the door. "Well? What do you say to that? Aren't I being more than generous here to let you use my panties as a cumrag?"

"Yes, thank you." A sigh escapes under your breath as you pick the small, lacy fabric up off the floor, not even hiding the pitiable expression on your face. "Th-thank you, mommy, thank you. Please have a good shower."

Sakura doesn't leave until she sees you slowly tug down your underwear, giving her a view of that poor, hard cock of yours straining and begging for a bit of attention. You can't even help yourself, desperately starting to stroke when she makes her exit, with her panties bunched up in one hand while the other wraps tightly around the head of your cock. It doesn't take you too long—to reach the edge as your thoughts linger back to the image of Sakura with your cock slamming inside her tight, wet little cunt that feels way better than your own pathetic hand.

The fabric is soon stained with your thick, sticky release, letting out a disappointed sigh as you spill more than the silk can soak up. It doesn't satisfy one bit, cock still needy and throbbing. But you'll take what you can get, you suppose, gazing at the bathroom door, hoping she'll come back any moment and let you bury that neglected cock deep inside of her.

Another minute of stroking yourself idly, long after the arousal has faded—and no Sakura in sight. So you slip your boxers back up, lying there defeated on the floor without even trying to clean yourself or her soaked panties, and crawl into her bed to wait for her there.

"Won't be home until late. Don't worry about me if you want to order in," Sakura says in the bathroom mirror as you finish up brushing your teeth.

More disappointment washes over you. You can't help but wonder how late Sakura really means. Usually her definition of late isn't until midnight or maybe later, sometimes even showing up when you've already fallen asleep.

"That's three days this week," you complain, not caring about how whiny and petulant you sound. But she doesn't seem too affected as she leans down towards the mirror, finishing up her makeup.

"I know, I'm sorry. Just how it has to be when we have big project deadlines," Sakura sighs. "This one's important, so we have to go all in. The client's an ass, and—"

"I get it, it's okay. I'll miss you."

Silence lingers, as does her hesitation, wondering how she wants to respond. Sakura sets her mascara down on the counter before offering a quick kiss on your cheek. "That's sweet of you to say."

That's all that’s uttered, leaving the sink to finish getting ready. Almost on autopilot, you spit the remnants of your toothpaste out, rinsing your toothbrush before placing it back in the holder while your thoughts wander away. The water runs for a short bit while the sound of a door shutting echoes in the apartment, and you're not sure whether you want to endure an empty shower for another time this week.

"I'll have the iced peach tea. What do you want, babe? My treat," Sakura asks you, fingers gliding across the touch screen.

"Uh—same thing is fine. Thanks," you answer, smiling back at her.

"Sweet or buttered popcorn?"

"Whatever you want. I'm okay with anything."

Sakura ponders on the answer a little too long as the two of you stand there, in the crowded line of people waiting at the concession stand. You look at all the options—way too many options (who the hell eats dry popcorn at the movies?) before settling on one large drink with two straws, a bucket of buttered popcorn, and two boxes of gummy bears, the sour kind. She taps her credit card on the screen, and seconds later, you've got your hands full.

"Middle seat or end seat?"

"Whatever is—"

"No, you choose. You let me pick everything else."

There's a bitterness to her tone, like your refusal to give a simple answer is somehow offending her. It doesn't stop you from hesitating for just another second.

"Middle. Wanna sit in the middle, please."

"Good choice," Sakura says, pleased with a little smile when you decide for once. She leads the way up the stairs, purse on her shoulder while she searches for the perfect spot, all the way to the top row of seats with not a single person in sight. "Here. We're sitting here."

Letting her pass in front, you wait for her to sit in the middle, and she tosses her purse into the empty seat next to her and claims the cupholder on the right. You slide into the seat beside her, settling in with the popcorn bucket in your lap, as Sakura kicks off her heels to prop her bare feet on the chair in front of her, crossing one ankle over the other. Not exactly the most proper etiquette, but there's not a single soul to complain.

The lights go dim. She digs the box of gummies out from her purse, grabbing a handful to shovel into her mouth at once while the trailers start.

You recline back into the comfortable seat, sipping your peach tea as the lights dim further, and Sakura's manicured nails graze over the armrest, over to your thigh. She doesn't do anything more than give a gentle squeeze—but the familiar touch hasn't felt all too familiar as of late, enough to tense your muscles the slightest bit in response.

"Pass me the popcorn."

Snatching up a handful before handing the bucket over, your attention turns back to the screen—only to lose interest moments later. Sakura doesn't even bother to grab any before she's setting it on the floor below and standing up out of her chair. You glance at her, more than a little confused, but it all gets cleared up once she tugs her sundress up her waist—and slowly, begins to tug her panties down her legs.

"What are you…" you start to ask, not able to finish once the tiny pair is draped around her ankles. Sakura kicks the blue lace away and sits back on the seat behind her, legs spread open enough that you're given an enticing view of that pretty little cunt.

Your jaw drops.

"Take your pants off. Now. Get that cock out and start stroking."

"W-what—"

"Your pants. Off. I'm fucking you, in case you were wondering. Or do you plan to keep me waiting?"

"Wait, s-someone will—"

Sakura turns her head, looking behind before returning her gaze with a glare, daring you to keep arguing. "Who? Not a single fucking person in here. Why do you think I picked the worst movie possible to go and see? At this hour? Because I planned on doing exactly this."

You're not exactly in a position to argue—especially with the way she's teasing a hand between her legs. So you unfasten the button on your pants and tug the zipper down as fast as possible, immediately feeling a rush of relief the second the fabric isn't constricting you anymore.

Haste in every action as you reach to stroke yourself—but not sure you have the guts to do it yet. She gives you that one look—that threatening, commanding glare that tells you she's not fucking around, and you don't want to risk being disobedient.

So your hand closes around your cock, letting out a small groan when Sakura rewards you with that sweet smile of hers.

"Doesn't that feel good? Trust me, we're not going to get caught. It's completely empty, no one can see us up here, and I know you want that big thing inside me. I've been neglecting you lately—this is my way of making up for it."

Even as you stare right in between her legs, at how wet she looks in the dim lighting, you still can't believe you're doing this.

"Just keep jerking off for me. Touch yourself for mommy. That's what a good boy would do."

Your grip tightens, stroking yourself while Sakura stares with that devilish gleam in her eye. She knows how weak this leaves you, how quickly your control will be given up while you take your time soaking up the view.

And if that’s not enough to deal with, Sakura bites her lip, closing her eyes briefly as she focuses on her pussy, two fingers spreading those soaked folds to show off where exactly she wants you.

"There you go. Keep pumping that hard cock for me. Nice and slow," she tells you, one finger starting to swirl in slow circles around her clit, sending a jolt through her whole body. "You can see how wet mommy is. I know you can’t wait for how good it'll feel to have that thick, throbbing cock buried inside my tight cunt. Tell me."

"Fucking—n-need it. Your pussy looks so soaked, god, I just wanna—"

"Tell mommy where you want it."

"Inside, I—wanna shove my cock right into that tight pussy—can I?"

Sakura chuckles softly, brushing damp hair away from her forehead as she teases her fingers at that dripping entrance of hers, dipping into it so you can see just how ready for it she is. "No. Because good boys don't ask—they beg."

"God, please. I wanna fuck you so bad. Need your tight, perfect cunt wrapped around my cock, need to see those tits bounce in my face—need to make you moan."

"Getting there, but I need more convincing. Not sure you really want this pussy…”

You can barely handle the anticipation as you fist that sensitive cock and pump furiously while Sakura slides those same digits deeper, in and out without care. Her wetness is audible, every messy, breathless whimper more broken than the last. "Want mommy to ride you like a toy? Use you and fuck myself however I want, since that's the only way you can please me right?"

"Fuck yes—please, fuck, anything, god—please, please let me inside you—"

"Anything?" Sakura repeats under her breath, moaning softly to herself before glancing down at how pathetic you've gotten. And you don't even hide it—you look as desperate as you can with this painfully hard cock straining in your grasp, needing it anywhere but your palm.

"Anything, f-fuck—"

"Well then... we'll worry about that later. For now, shut up, sit still, and keep doing exactly what you're told until I say otherwise."

"Y-yes, mommy."

Nothing quite like the rush that shoots up your spine as Sakura hops off her seat, not even a second wasted as she climbs into your lap to straddle you while you look up with nothing but desire—and a mix of disbelief. "Bonus points if you can make me cum before the movie starts."

You’ve got her cold hand palming over your length, getting as tight of a grip as she can—but instead of sinking down, Sakura inches her soaked cunt along the length, drenching you in the slippery evidence of her arousal as you take in the feeling. God, even this painful tease feels incredible against you, dripping straight onto your lap. And then she lifts up enough for the head of your cock to push between those drenched folds, sinking down on the first half—and pausing just for a few seconds as she lets out this satisfied sigh.

"Fuck," is all you manage before you realize your mistake.

Sakura scowls immediately, and she leans in close to cup your cheeks, ignoring the whimper that you let out. "None of that. What did I say about staying quiet? I'll give you one more chance—no more warnings."

An obedient nod is all that you give. Sakura continues her descent down the rest of your length, nothing short of orgasmic the warmth you've been yearning for—slick walls clenching around while she shudders atop you. "Good boy. Didn't mean to make you feel ignored this week. But you get it, don't you? Mommy has a lot of important things to deal with..."

Words aren't really an option as Sakura gazes into your eyes and you can barely return the look. All you can do is focus on the vice grip squeezing your cock, and the slick mess spilling from her cunt as she rides without the slightest effort—all to the backdrop of the loud music playing on the movie screen.

"Mm, that's it. Splitting me open," she breathes out, digging her nails into the side of your skull as she finds a rhythm she likes. Every stroke, your sensitive cockhead kisses her deepest parts, stretching out her cunt in all the right ways. The lack of attention has turned you into the mess she loves seeing you in, and you grit your teeth in a poor attempt to muffle any noises while her hips move faster than you can handle.

But god, does her cunt feel fucking good. Better than heaven. Nothing could ruin the way she sinks down on you, only to slowly slide back up, and then drop all her weight onto your lap. Not even the lingering worries that someone might still catch you.

Sakura works her hips a little faster, lips finding yours in an attempt to silence any noises. She bites that bottom lip of yours—tugs harshly for a few moments until she breaks away to lick at your earlobe, breath heavy on your skin as her strokes get harder to deal with, the wetness between her legs coating every inch.

"You wanna make a noise, don't you? But you're being so good instead—you'll hold it all back until I'm done with you. Just in case though, I've got an idea on how to keep you quiet—"

A few more rough bounces and she's slipping the straps of her dress down her arms, enough to let her delicious breasts spring free. With no further instructions, you're on them in a flash, sucking a pretty pink nipple between your lips without a second thought.

"Ah, that's my good boy. Keeping that needy mouth busy for mommy."

Sakura tugs at your hair as she sighs deeper, picking up the pace while the hunger inside you consumes. Messy saliva drips from your mouth while you alternate attention between nipples, licking and sucking whichever one you can reach at the moment, not getting distracted while her ass crashes down hard onto your lap.

"Listen to you, struggling to keep quiet—hard to do when you love mommy's tits so much, isn't it?" Sakura knows she's not getting a coherent answer. You just suckle at those delicious, hardened buds like you’re starved, nibbling enough to add a little extra to her pleasure that gets her to clench down a little harder. Even at this stage, you can hardly concentrate—lost in lust, and the last thing you’re worrying about is getting caught. Let someone.

You're way past being giving a damn.

“My poor, greedy boy is so hungry for these… not that I blame you.” Her fingers tug through your hair, and the only response she gets is your groan, muffled around her nipple—but there's no punishment for it. Not when she's matching every sound, using them to fuel her hips.

Just knowing your cock is exactly where it should be, that’s everything you need, having Sakura using your body is almost too much to handle. Even more now when she grabs the back of your head to shove your face deep into her cleavage, gasping as she bounces faster.

"Don't stop sucking them, god, that feels so fucking good. You know they get so fucking sensitive—“ And the moans can’t hide the harsh slapping sounds with how hard she’s riding. Harder and harder, impaling herself on your poor neglected cock. You just have to hold on and follow directions, looking so depraved as you suck and slurp these tits to your heart's desire.

"Shit, mommy is gonna cum, make a mess all over that fucking cock—just keep being a good boy. Keep making mommy feel so good,“ she demands with these loud cries, that it seems impossible no one can hear her. But the theater is nothing but dark and empty, with not a single thing to get in her way.

One deep slurp and she’s taking what she wants. Her eyes flutter while those messy bounces lose rhythm, cunt squeezing tighter, using you to get off.

All that demand fades into breathless moans as she slams down your entire length, buried deep and stays there, convulsing on your cock, thighs trembling with her arms wrapped around your neck— every single moment she continues to roll her hips until it's finally too much.

But that doesn't mean those hips are going to stop working just yet. Because as much as she’s in desperate need of a breather after her own mess dripping down your shaft, she knows that you're hanging on by a thread—and she’s not in the habit of being selfish.

"What do you say, my pretty little toy? About ready to blow that load inside mommy?" Your answer is muffled around the wet nipple you're sucking, only parting for a brief moment to nod.

"Use your words now, baby boy. Tell mommy how badly you need to cum, need to empty those heavy balls. How you'd do anything to be good for me and spray all your hot, sticky seed inside."

She's got it mostly covered, but you groan out those same pleas between frantic little breaths, desperate to spill in that tight constricting heat. "You feel so good mommy, fuck—I need to cum, I-I wanna be a good boy and cum inside… can't hold it anymore—fuck. Please, mommy, please, let me—'

“You have my permission. Be my good boy and give mommy a nice, big load. Empty it all until that perfect cock has nothing left. Shoot it all, fill up mommy good.”

Just a few more frenzied bounces, and you can't hold off. It's inevitable as she fucks the last bit of energy out of you until that point of no return is met, while she guides your hands back to those delicious tits of hers. And in a matter of moments, the explosion hits, releasing in several, aching spurts that have you pumping out. Even in the darkness, the bliss across your face is obvious as you unload that white mess deep inside her hot cunt.

"M-mommy—" you groan while those bounces refuse to relent. Not even for a moment, milking everything you have left, until your shaft can’t stop twitching with every inviting clench.

Sakura just laughs quietly at the exhaustion on your face, brushing fingers along your cheek before giving a loving kiss on the lips. "My pretty toy is so good—mommy is so proud of you. Filled me up so much.“

“Th-thank you, mommy. Needed to cum s-so bad…”

“ I know you did, baby boy. Love when you unload that hot, thick load for me. Feels so good inside,” Sakura praises, letting your lips latch onto her swollen, sensitive nipples for one last fleeting moment. She pulls the straps of her dress back into place, lifting herself off your still throbbing, soaked shaft. And even in the faint light, the sight is beautiful—a thick, heavy mess that leaks from her slick folds and drips down her thighs, trailing its way down to the theatre floor.

“Good boy…” Sakura says again before closing her eyes as she begins to slide a finger through the heavy load coating her slit, up and down until it's a sticky, shimmering mess. Then she brings that coated finger back up to your mouth, swirling it over the edge of your lip, dragging the pad over your tongue until you clean everything off with an eager little suck. "So hungry for mommy's taste, aren't you?"

You're not answering anytime soon, too busy with a finger between your lips. Another one enters, those same fingers that push further into your mouth, until you're forced to gag around them.

"What do you say when mommy gives you a treat?”

"Thank you, mommy."

Leaving her panties behind like a trophy for whoever stumbles across them, Sakura withdraws her slick finger and smears your own drool across your cheek. And you barely have enough energy to finish zipping up your pants, still spent and dazed, struggling to get yourself back together. You can barely stand.

"Shame about the popcorn. Still hungry.” Sakura giggles, the bucket toppled over, kernels spilled along the floor. Maybe they were fine before she was bouncing up and down on you—but that doesn't matter much as you leave the empty theater row, anxious to make your escape. She finishes up the last drink from your shared cup, straw slurping dramatically before shoving her feet back in her heels, offering up her hand.

"Who needs popcorn when I had mommy's tits in my face?"

Sakura can't even stop herself from giggling. "Keep being sweet and see where that gets you later, baby boy.”

Now you can feel the urge to leave, because as lucky as you’ve been, you were both pretty loud, and you can bet anything, someone is going to find out what happened if you don't get out of here.

So she leads, a purpose in those quick steps as the two of you make your way through the row of seats and down the long staircase leading to the exit. Even on the other side of the theater, you can swear you hear something; maybe someone is about to start looking for the cause of your transgressions.

But that's not a problem for you to worry about anymore.

"Can't believe we got away with that.”

“Have some faith in me. Told you that movie was awful," she says, almost irritated you didn’t believe her.

"There was a movie?"

Sakura doesn't make a sound that isn't a giggle. Once you follow through the apartment door, she’s already stepping out of her heels. All you see after is that pretty dress falling from her shoulders, crumpled on the floor, bra still on but undone. That’s gone a moment later, her bare ass rippling with every step, hips swaying in a slow, hypnotic rhythm. When she’s fully naked, she glances over her shoulder, beckoning with just the flick of a finger.

And you follow her to the couch like an obedient puppy, unable to look away at the flawless skin she's so proudly displaying.

She looks like an absolute feast, spreading her legs wide to entice you even further. Practically drooling at the sight, all it takes is her piercing gaze for you to kneel between her thighs, her pussy presented right in your face, still slick as could be.

"That's my good boy—didn't have to waste my time telling you what to do."

Sakura’s hand slides to the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair as she guides your eager tongue exactly where she wants it. Her creamy thighs keep you pinned in place, wrapping around your head as you eat her out without any reservations.

"Poor thing must be so hungry still," Sakura purrs, fingers tightening in your hair as your tongue works her over. "The more you eat me, the messier I get—but that’s what good toys do, use their tongue just the way mommy likes. Feels so fucking good...”

The praise goes straight to your head. You’re eating her pussy with such fervor, desperate to lap up all this taste forever, tongue through her dripping slit while her thighs get tighter around your head. She looks gorgeous like this, moments away from another trembling orgasm with fingers digging into your skull, and there’s no other place you’d rather be.

With how starved you are, it takes little time before she’s gushing in your mouth, tugging hard at your hair, and almost suffocating you with her thighs as she hits that sweet release. It’s beautiful. It all flows from her dripping pussy without restraint, toes curling, body squirming underneath as that satisfaction hits deep. In the comfort of the couch, there’s no need to control what sounds spill free, loud moans and breathy gasps flow out like the juices spilling between your lips, every last drop of yours to devour.

Long past the point when Sakura has had enough, she eases off and collapses back, savoring the delicious high while you try and chase her cunt, until she pushes you away with a foot. "N-no more, shit. Not now. Mommy’s too fucking sensitive."

You’ll have to resist the chance to greed for more, but that doesn't mean you’re going to keep your mouth empty—focusing on a part of Sakura that isn’t as sensitive. Which doesn’t take long to find, kissing down her legs until you reach her petite little feet. Not a moment to think this over, sucking on her white painted toes, saliva coating them within seconds.

"What do you think you're doing now?" Sakura asks, but not even close to a stern objection in her tone. So you're not going to stop as long as she lets you, sucking hard on each toe that slips between your lips.

"Mommy tastes so good. Can't help it."

"Well, keep sucking then," she says, lying back down to relax on the sofa, leg lifted enough with her toes flexing in your mouth. Nothing but satisfaction on her pretty face, a signal of how good it all feels. "Anything that gets you this desperate… I'll never get tired of seeing."

As if you needed more convincing, your tongue drags slowly up the sole of her foot before returning to those irresistible toes. Sakura just watches, eyes fluttering shut on occasion with a moan slipping out. One by one, you kiss each toe before it enters your mouth, giving everyone the affection it deserves. Each leaves with a wet, glistening sheen—and a satisfying, messy pop.

It doesn't end once you've taken care of both feet. Kisses get planted everywhere and anywhere, nothing to stop you as your mouth explores her soles, licking the sensitive area in between with slow drags, and every bit of her heels. The ball of each foot gets showered in love too, worshiping every inch and soaking them both up with adoration.

"Look at you—such a needy thing. Mommy's pretty feet are driving you this crazy," Sakura taunts, and each brush of her feet across your chin has you begging for more.

More than happy to oblige, she forces her toes deep inside, where you're eager to accept them with another satisfied slurp. Sucking them straight back into your mouth and licking up all over, she’s giggling all over at your efforts, at every sloppy noise and greedy slurp that comes from you. "You'd never stop sucking my toes if I asked, would you?"

You give a loud suckle in response on her big toe, holding it between your lips. “Never. Hours. Days, however long mommy wants. Need your pretty toes in my mouth forever."

"You greedy little slut,” Sakura chuckles, and presses that silky soft sole against your face, dragging back and forth, and god you can hardly stand it. Sliding her other foot right towards your crotch to find the growing bulge, you grunt at the feeling of pressure against your covered cock.

"Maybe I really have been neglecting you lately. Always busy—don't even know how many loads you'd have blasting all over these by now,” Sakura muses, flexing her toes in your mouth, always knowing just how to rile you up. "But mommy thinks you deserve a nice reward. Wouldn’t you like that, my good boy?"

That's the question Sakura poses—while her toes begin pressing down in both locations, letting you enjoy the intense pressure from either side. You don’t even know which is more difficult to stand anymore, one foot rubbing along your shaft through those pants, or those cute toes stuffing your mouth.

"Y-yes, mommy. Please," is all you can manage, and this might just be your most desperate, pitiful state yet.

"Good. Then get yourself out of those clothes by the time I come back."

When she vanishes down the hall, you scramble to strip down completely and wait, hands resting in your lap with all the anticipation in the world.

Only a few moments later Sakura returns, but she's not empty-handed—nor is she wearing that dress any more. Because now she's all clad in black—long gloves, a leather top that barely contains the swell of her breasts, and a matching thong that hugs her hips and accentuates that tight ass just perfectly. But that's not what catches your attention the most—

That being the harness around her waist and two different dildo options held in her hand. Your eyes can't help but glance between them; a thick one and, well, a considerably thicker one, both in different shades of purple.

"Which do you want?" Sakura asks, just the hint of a smirk on her face, watching every expression flash on your face as you contemplate a choice.

Both of them are considerably intimidating—even the smallest, the first one that catches your eye is impressive in its own right. The other makes you pause; bigger and thicker than anything you've seen between Sakura's legs before. Which is why it's calling you—this craving to have it ruin you beyond what you think you can take. It's pretty and textured with bumps and ridges along every curve and slope, a little something extra for whoever takes that thing inside. Which is going to be you.

"That one. The big one, please," you answer without hesitation, watching Sakura discard the smaller dildo onto a nearby table. Her heels click across the wood floors as she steps closer, running a single finger down the shaft.

"That's my good boy. Always wanting a real challenge. You must feel a little deprived with mommy's busy schedule. But it's my job to make it up to you, isn't it? To make you feel so good, stretched nice and wide like only I can?"

You nod, watching closely as Sakura fastens the harness tighter around her waist, sliding the silicone shaft into place in one smooth motion. An easy routine for her as she makes it feel as part of her, hands on her hips so you can get a perfect view of what's about to split you in half.

And before she even gives the slightest prompt, you're bending over the edge of the armrest. Both hands planted firmly down, exposing your naked self from behind. Nothing Sakura hasn't seen hundreds of times already—but every part of it just reinforces how badly you want this.

"So that's how you want mommy to ruin you, is it? So cute how eager you are. Keep that tight ass of yours high for me."

The next step is her gloved hands spreading your cheeks, and you know all too well what comes next. But before the cap can even flick open, you feel something else—the tease of something wet pressing right against your asshole, Sakura's tongue working in slow, gentle circles.

You can't help the gasps that follow from your parted lips, especially when the tip of her tongue slides just a bit deeper. Back and forth, prodding at your entrance, to give a little sample of what you're really getting ready for. Just the way Sakura knows you crave it, her tongue plunging in deeper and fucking your ass for a few brief moments before drawing it out again.

"Just getting you nice and warmed up," she assures, but her wet, sloppy efforts seem to be over way too soon. You know exactly what comes next: a slicked-up fingertip, pressing against the tight ring of muscle and pushing its way inside. "Relax for me."

You give an obedient nod, sucking in a deep breath as you work to ease the tightness that tries to keep her out. The very finger you know how to take, starting with one before sinking in the second one beside it a few moments later. Both massage inside, slowly opening you up in a process she knows all too well, two fingers slowly pumping in and out until there's no more resistance.

"Ready to take mommy's cock? Get all nice and stuffed full?" she asks, but even as the question leaves her lips, those two fingers are pulling out, replaced by the sound of lube being squeezed all over the length of that silicone nudging at your entrance.

"So fucking ready. Want mommy inside me, please—need it."

"You're too cute. Hold tight, baby. Relax. Breathe, and tell me if it's too much."

"Y-yes, mommy.”

Her hips rock forward, slow, but not hesitant. The lubed head of the dildo slides with ease, pushing far enough to sink inside you just a fraction—already leaving you groaning. It's not exactly an unfamiliar feeling, but so much different from the toys that Sakura's fucked you with before, each ridge and bump bringing along its own sensations all along your ass as the thick shaft inches deeper inside.

But still, your body gives little resistance, the slightest progress is enough of a rush of bliss to make you crave more, trying hard to welcome that delicious intrusion.

"Look at that, it's going in so nice and easy. Taking everything like a good boy for mommy," Sakura coos, grabbing your hips to support herself, sliding the shaft even deeper, slow and steady. "Need more, baby? How does it feel?"

"It feels good, mommy feels so fucking good inside me. I-I need it. I want it all in me. Mommy—please."

There's a slight laugh from her pretty lips, easing that purple dildo in deeper, every bump and ridge hitting just right and stretching you wider the more she sinks in. Sakura caresses your lower back, until almost every inch can comfortably slip inside to the hilt. "Good boy. You're doing so good—making mommy proud. Does my baby boy like it this deep?"

A weak nod and nothing more than a pathetic groan is all you can manage while that thick length remains motionless inside you, letting you adjust to every overwhelming sensation.

"Gonna move now, okay?" Sakura warns, stroking a gloved hand down your spine and giving your ass a playful slap. "Make my pretty boy feel real good."

When her strap withdraws to leave just the tip inside—that's the exact moment all the sensations hit at once. When Sakura drives back in, burying in all at once and starts to really fuck you. She eases into a rhythm, her grip tightening as she plunges it in over and over, giving your prostate just what it needs. "Look at you take this, bent over for mommy like a desperate little slut. It's all in now, how does that feel, baby boy?"

And while it's difficult to answer, you know better than to ignore her, even as Sakura sinks inch after inch of her thick, purple cock deeper into your needy asshole. "Feels fucking good, mommy, p-please. Want more. Love how mommy fills me."

There's nothing that would deny Sakura from doing just that—hearing every needy plea and whine coming from your mouth. Each word encourages her as the strap drills harder, forcing you to hold onto the armrest for dear life, unable to hold back from how good that silicone cock makes you feel. "God—you love mommy fucking your ass, don't you? Took that whole thing like it was nothing. Think I can go even harder?"

Sakura doesn't give you time for an answer, ramming in every inch at once while your ass squeezes around the thickness inside you. Harder thrusts fill you deeper with each rougher slam of her hips, giving a slap across your ass with every few strokes.

"I asked you a fucking question. Does my sweet boy want me to be rough? Use your words."

"Y-yes. Mommy can be as rough as she wants. Please. It—it feels so good, please, mommy—need it harder—r-ruin me."

That's all the answer she needs, forcing the rest of her strap inside, making you feel it so deep that there's never been this kind of relief. Making you take every slam of that thick cock all the way to the hilt while she fucks into you over and over. Not an ounce of mercy left—fucking your ass like she thinks you deserve, like she loves to see. It doesn't even matter how desperate you sound, each slap on your ass so perfectly timed, making your cock leak and twitch between your legs.

"You fucking love this, don't you? My little slut is so good—taking me so well. Tell mommy how much you need this cock inside you, pretty boy. Say it."

She thrusts, so relentless in each one, and a smack on your ass comes with the next one, all on relentless repeat. And yet you still need more. "Love the way you fuck me, mommy. Feel so full, so good, p-please, need my asshole pounded, g-god, please."

There's the softest giggle from her lips, Sakura finding new found joy in seeing how well you beg—just letting all those filthy, desperate thoughts flow right out.

That's when her fingers close in on your neglected cock, gripping just tight enough and slowly stroking down the entire length. As if you needed anything else making you more of a pathetic mess, throbbing and shaking from each slam deep into your prostate.

"Your poor cock feels so swollen and ready to erupt. Bet a few little strokes could get you there while mommy is so deep in your ass."

You'd be lucky if you even last that long, struggling to stay coherent as that dildo picks up an even rougher pace as Sakura keeps slamming away, fingers steadily jerking you off. Every time the silicone brushes up against a particular sensitive spot and pushes all the way inside, that's what almost tips you over. The delicate strokes on your cock don't make things any easier, or the filthy things that get whispered right in your ear.

"Can't wait until you cum. Wanna hear all those noises you'll make with mommy's strap deep in your asshole—exploding all over this fucking couch."

Sakura is ruthless, both in the way she fucks you and the words she whispers, keeping that strap driving in so deep until you can barely speak a coherent sentence. It's getting closer and closer to that edge, her hand pumping your shaft while she slams her hips with the same intensity, each one that threatens to have you spurting everywhere.

"M-mommy—"

"Yeah? Say it, tell me you're about to cum, tell mommy all about how her strap is getting you ready to make a mess."

"I-I'm close, so fucking close, gonna—mommy's gonna make me—"

A light squeeze, one that comes at the right time, and that's all you need to lose yourself completely. Your legs shake with the pleasure hitting an instant peak, one more slam, one more stroke has you groaning like never before as your climax hits hard. Thick streaks of cum burst all over her fingers, shooting onto the sofa and cushions below. The friction doesn’t cease with Sakura’s strap pounding away, squeezing tight around your swollen head to milk out every violent spurt, until you’re trembling, reduced to a helpless mess.

"There we go. Good boy, let it all out. Give me every drop you've got, come on, baby boy."

The thick, warm streaks continue without relent. Until Sakura has her gloved fingers coated and grip tight as you ride out the high, continuing to fuck you while you spill a load bigger than any she's taken from you before. When the spasms die down—when you're a sensitive, twitching mess on the couch, only then does she finally slow to a stop, keeping herself buried deep while you recover.

There's a weakness you've not felt before, your cock so sensitive, your ass so empty once she pulls back—until those hips withdraw the strap inch by inch, your entire body shuddering when she does.

"Good boy. That's my good boy. Just relax for a moment, mommy's got you."

As you fall limp, you let out a tired, breathless sigh with Sakura leaning over your back and placing little kisses down your body until you finally find some stability again. Only after you collapse to the side to rest, watching as she leans back with a satisfied grin, bringing her fingers coated in your cum right up to her lips. She doesn't hesitate even once, sucking every drop off them.

"You did such a good job, took me so well. Let's get you all cleaned up."

Your body feels wrecked, aching in ways you'd never been able to imagine. Fatigue hits like a truck as soon as everything is said and done. Only while the water runs hot can you regain the use of your legs, recovering little by little, especially while a naked Sakura opens the glass shower door to get inside.

Leather scatters all over the bathroom floor, and you can see the harness sitting at the side of the sink, the purple dildo hanging off to the side, washed and sanitized, ready for its next use.

"Doing a lot better, baby boy?" Sakura asks the moment she steps under the hot running water, helping soap up your body. "Mommy really did a number on you—thought I might have broken you a few times."

You almost zone out in the bliss of the steamy shower, enjoying the serenity and relaxing against her. "Better now that mommy is here."

"What are you so sweet for?" Sakura just smiles, pressing her body right up against yours. And for everything you just went through—that's all it takes to know it's all worth it. Just for that. That beautiful smile with Sakura's wet hair stuck to her face.

Even as sore as you are, those loving hands feel like they're magic, helping you through the ache, washing and cleaning every inch, never breaking away even for a second. For as rough as Sakura can get—and god knows you've never had it quite that rough—she takes the utmost care of you after. Never going too far unless she knows you're ready to handle it. "My baby boy takes a pounding so well though. Even with that brand new strap mommy bought for you, it was a lot, and yet you wanted more."

She smiles again, reaching up to cup your cheek, content to soak in the silence of the shower as if nothing else exists but the steam and hot water pouring down over both of you."

"Always want more of you, mommy. Always."

"I know, baby. Always so needy for me, my pretty boy. Always does what mommy wants."

The shower is nothing more than a quick respite.

Once the water gets turned off and the towels hit the floor, the only thing on your mind is those silk sheets—and forgetting what day it is when you wake up. But you know that's not in the cards, at least not anytime soon. Sakura, of course, doesn’t bother covering up. She walks through the apartment naked, completely unbothered, heading to the kitchen.

Swinging the fridge door open, she grabs a bowl of strawberries and hops up onto the counter with the same ease she handled you just minutes ago.

You stand there for a moment, just taking her in.

"Enjoying the view?” Sakura asks as she pops a strawberry between her lips, swinging her legs back and forth over the side of the counter. And you have to laugh. Because it’s comical, the image of Sakura—how small she actually is compared to the space she occupies, this petite thing that manhandles you so easily, even though the difference in size is so obvious when she's not towering over you. Even in heels.

"Can’t help it. Can’t help staring, when mommy looks so good naked.”

Sakura sucks on the strawberry, not the least bit subtle about it. She returns the favor and keeps staring at your body in return, slurping all the juices that drip over her tongue.

"Well, I do love when you stare. So keep staring and come here." And when you find yourself inching closer to her, those legs of hers wrap right around your waist, trapping you in the warmth of her body. "Open."

A simple request that has your lips parting with ease, as you bite on the strawberry she offers, taking it back and forth until it's gone. She holds her fingers stained with sweet berry juice out, and you don’t even think twice about closing your lips around them. One at a time you suck them clean, savoring every drop.

“Tastes good. But mommy tastes sweeter.”

That only has Sakura blushing.

"You're so—oh my god, baby, look who's the sweet one."

And once every digit is all clean, you still keep sucking, taking two at a time and coating them with spit until she pulls away.

"My good boy is extra needy today, hm? Can't go a second without something between those lips. Sucking my toes, my fingers, my strap. That cute little mouth is insatiable, isn't it? The things it does to me..."

Another strawberry fed into your waiting lips, this time letting you savor the sweet flavors for yourself. Sakura watches in delight the entire time as she finishes off the last bit, fingers slipping back between your eager mouth, which you suck on greedily the second her taste hits your tongue again.

"You want something else between these lips, don't you?" She reads your thoughts with ease, her gaze drifting down between your legs to find you hard all over again—like she isn't the exact reason you’re in that state to begin with. The culprit to all your fantasies, as you stare at her perfect tits, wanting to latch your lips on them for hours while she slowly strokes your cock, edging you close to the breaking point, so you’ll suck them even more.

"Didn't hear an answer. Is there something else you want between these lips? Something that you need to stuff between them?"

"Want m-my cock in your mouth, please. So bad, want mommy's lips wrapped around me, want them swollen and dripping with cum."

"Then what do good boys do to get what they want?" Sakura asks as she jumps off the counter and strokes you at a languid pace, thumb rubbing gentle circles over your swollen, wet tip.

You feel like you’re the one one about to be on your knees instead of her. It's more complicated than it should be, getting a simple word out. One word that'll have her on her knees, watching you and keeping those lips wrapped tight and wet. But god, do you ever fucking try your best—

"Say please, say you've been a good boy who deserves mommy's mouth."

"P-please, please, mommy," you manage, having so much difficulty getting a damn word out with Sakura squeezing the head of your throbbing shaft. "Please—"

"Okay, okay, that's enough. Less begging, more moaning, my needy boy."

Sakura doesn't linger, not when she’s about to give you the best reward you’ve ever had. In a heartbeat, she's right where she’s needed—knees on the kitchen tile with those full lips hovering over your swollen cockhead, planting a single kiss against your slit that draws the deepest moan you can muster. And god—those pretty, sparkling eyes stay on yours the entire time.

The way Sakura knows damn well how bad you want to fuck her throat, how much you need to use those gorgeous lips to cum—she senses everything when she stares up. When she waits for your reaction when her tongue makes contact, dragging from base to tip in the slowest way.

"No touching until mommy says you can," Sakura instructs, and that's not an order that's easy to comply with—not when she's this voracious, not when her mouth is hot and wet, running the flat of her tongue up and down over every sensitive inch. So all you can do is grip at the kitchen counter, giving a few futile squeezes before you can hardly stand upright at all, as you watch those pretty lips wrap tight around the tip of your cock.

"I—god, fuck, please," you groan out after one slow, satisfying suck, her mouth easing further down, only to pull back and stroke your spit-drenched shaft at a feverish pace. Every inch that sinks deeper into her mouth, the sweeter the bliss of all that suction that gets drawn out is.

"My needy baby. Needed mommy on this beautiful cock, didn't you?" Sakura teases, planting a few kisses down your shaft and diving back to take half your length down her throat, not a trace of struggle on her end.

"F-fuck, always—always fucking need you."

"Mwah," she parts her lips with a pop, and that tongue is just as dangerous, licking slow, leaving every inch nice and slick with drool. "I know. But you're gonna keep being a good boy and watch me while I suck this delicious cock. Get it all nice and sloppy like you love."

With a rough slap against her tongue she takes another hard suck, pushing forward to swallow more of you until you're feeling her breath against your balls. One quick suck after another, head bobbing down your wet cock, and every lewd, noisy slurp she makes only heightens your arousal. The sounds of all that suction only has you fighting the urge to thrust into her mouth, to fist her hair and drive those lips down the rest of your throbbing length.

"Mmph, your cock tastes so damn good. You're doing so good staying still for mommy while I give your dick what it deserves. So big, and all mine," Sakura gasps out as she sucks away, lips down until they hit the base, getting a good, firm grip on your balls to fondle while you try not to explode down her throat too fast.

She's driving you fucking insane with that warm mouth of hers, especially when she pushes all the way down and just holds—keeps every inch locked away inside, nose buried into your crotch as her throat massages the length of your cock. All she has to do is stare with those eyes that drive you crazy, cupping your balls while she hums, and you swear the vibrations are enough to put you right over the edge—

"F-fuck, that feels so, your mouth feels so good, god, m-mommy—"

When it's almost too much to take, her lips release their hold and all you feel is empty again, until Sakura dives back down. She's sucking so hard on the tip you nearly burst, having to push that urge away again and again.

It's that light, teasing stroke along the underside that sends you spiraling the most—her soft pink tongue flicking all those sensitive spots in rapid succession, her hand squeezing right where her lips aren't. "Could make you cum just like this. My tongue here, nothing else.”

She doesn't waste time when your moans reach that breaking point, sliding right back down, lips working along until her tongue meets the base with these anything but gentle flicks.

You’re not a bit ashamed about the desperate moans that spill out either.

The next few seconds are a blur, as Sakura guides your hands to either side of her head—letting you grab her hair, just where you want, all the power handed right over. And the only thing she does is rest her hands on your thighs, nails digging in. This silent permission to push her right down and use her throat.

She parts her lips without hesitation, letting you dictate her movements and control the pace of her bobbing head. You force her head halfway down, thrusting your hips to slam the last half in one satisfying movement.

Then you're picking up that frantic pace, repeating it again and again as the neediness starts getting the best of you. Until her lips are a mess of drool, which only has you bucking your hips into her face, causing Sakura to let out a gargled moan with your cock plunging in deep with no reprieve.

"F-fuck," you grunt, driving your hips as you fuck her pretty mouth, a loop of endless lust that fuels it all. The noises she makes around your throbbing shaft fuel you as you keep stuffing her throat full, none of it a challenge for her at all. But still, she does her part—staring with those big, beautiful eyes of hers while you take exactly what you need from her. "Feels so good, god, mommy. So damn—"

Once more she grips at your thighs and closes those lips even tighter around you. Another rough thrust and your cock plunges deep, holding her there for a few seconds so she can gurgle out a deep, stifled moan, one that almost has your balls emptying down her throat.

And then you do it again, each time forcing Sakura down all the way, as her eyes begin to water, but never breaking eye contact the entire time. Not when it feels too perfect to pull back, her fingers grasping so hard onto your thighs, never wanting you to stop until you're completely drained.

Which won't be long, not when Sakura takes every inch like a fucking champ—doing nothing but keeping her mouth open to let you slide back and forth between those perfect lips. You don't dare think about slowing the insatiable pace, not for a second, even with the drool dribbling over her chin and down to her tits, dripping everywhere. Not when you can't hold out a moment longer, close to giving her throat the load she desires.

"Gonna cum," you gasp out, all your senses overwhelmed, fucking into her mouth so fast, so desperate to tip right over that edge. “Oh god, mommy, gonna cum. So close, fuck—I'm s-so fucking close."

Another tight squeeze on your thighs is the approval you need to finish the job, gripping her head tight and pistoning your hips with everything you have left. Her nails dig even harder into the flesh, a moan to encourage your imminent release. Then with one final grunt, you bury deep into her warm mouth and hold her right there, unable to withstand a moment longer—

Sakura's eyes widen, lips down to the very last inch of your throbbing shaft, right against your balls when your cock unloads.

Every violent spurt empties inside, a thick torrent straight into her stomach, no easing up on the grip in her hair while it all flows into her throat. You've got her gaze locked, her throat contracting, guzzling down each thick spurt of cum that spills out.

Nothing feels as good as Sakura's throat milking you dry, the perfect place to dump your load. You can't remember how to even breathe, just keeping your spent cock nestled within her warm little mouth for as long as you can stand it, and even a little longer after that.

“Jesus," you gasp, releasing that tight grip. But her lips don't stop, not for a second, holding your hips as she keeps right on sucking—harder and faster. The overstimulation never stops, not until she wants it to, drawing out moan after helpless moan as you can only try to hang on. Staying right where she is and not letting go an inch, Sakura won't dare let a single drop spill. Her mouth only moves off once she's sure nothing is left in your balls, taking her sweet time kissing the tip of your cock.

"Mommy made her toy cum really hard, didn't she? Shot your heavy load in my mouth like a good boy."

“Y-yeah—“

"But is that all I get?" Sakura asks and rises to her feet, seizing your cock and pumping a few times, though your sensitive state shows and you nearly recoil. "Not fair mommy swallowed all of your delicious cum and didn't have a chance to get off, is it?"

Exhaustion on your face, you can’t even answer, slowly being backed against the door of the refrigerator with your cock still in her grasp. She’s not giving a second to recover with this predatory gleam in her eyes as her grip on you tightens.

"Mommy isn't done with you just yet. Not when this cock is still so hard and needs somewhere warm to go, doesn't it?"

You simply nod—how can you possibly do anything but nod? You're nowhere near ready to go again, but the way she looks at you slaps you full force in agreement.

"You're gonna hold me up and fuck me. While I wrap my legs around and you bounce me on this cock like a good boy. Got it? Don’t drop me."

Whatever reluctance you think you might have as you hoist her up, isn't going to stand a chance, not when Sakura is quick to take her rightful place—legs coiled and locked around your waist. Not even a second to breathe, before she drops down and impales herself on you, every inch disappearing into that perfect heat you've barely had a chance to miss.

This time, when the tightness hits and your cock is swallowed up by her delicious warmth, it takes everything you have not to drop her.

You're spent—completely fucked out, and the worst part is she knows it. Knows how you can hardly take being buried inside her again. All of your sensitive cock is in the heat of her cunt, so slick and squeezing tighter than ever. And still—you move for her. Every thrust is a fight against your own overstimulation, but you can’t keep your hips from moving.

You couldn’t stop if you tried.

"God, f-fuck—" Back pinned up against the fridge with the entirety of Sakura's petite frame in your arms, your dick throbs and twitches in ways you didn't know possible. The softness of her breasts press up against your chest as they bounce, and it's up to you to do the rest. To give everything that's demanded.

Your overworked muscles and weakened legs barely manage, but the cries coming from Sakura are well worth it as you lift her up and slam her back down, giving all you have to fuck her. She's in no way making things easy for you, clenching so hard around your oversensitive cock, nails digging into your back and holding on just to ride out the pleasure you're giving her.

"You can do better than that. I know you’re a good fucking toy. Fuck me, fuck me harder," she demands—and it only serves to encourage you to push past the exhaustion. When your movements slow even for a second, you don't even need to meet the glare that reminds you to think otherwise. And without saying a word, she's demanding you thrust up into her with all you've got left, regardless how much the ache in your cock wants to do the opposite.

"Harder. Come on," Sakura orders—the one and only warning you'll get. "Fuck me harder like a good little fucktoy does."

So you have no choice but to surrender to her words, to pump your sore shaft into that slippery heat with such rapid fire thrusts that no matter how much you need a break, you can't. Not now—not as long as you have the resolve to stay buried in her wet cunt.

Her pussy takes every inch and clenches impossibly tight, greedy to swallow you whole inside, even when your body is hanging on by a thread. Almost on auto-pilot, you keep driving into her, back pressed hard against the fridge as you desperately bounce her on your length. She squeezes like never before, knowing what it'll do to your poor, exhausted cock, with her legs clamping around your torso until you can't pull free if you try.

"So good. Making mommy's pussy feel so fucking good," Sakura moans against your neck, nipping her teeth across the sweaty skin. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t fucking stop—“

You don't, because you can’t—fucking her so rough and hard, almost forgetting the ache as your body keeps doing its part without any say in the matter. Sakura clings onto your body, this small frame so easy to hold tight with your fingers digging into her ass, refusing to relent until she lets you. And she clenches so desperately when that sweet release gets near, until her entire body turns into a shuddering wreck.

All it takes is her biting into your shoulder—hard, her cunt gripping down like a vice around your aching cock, and there's only the briefest warning until you feel the flood of her climax soak every inch as you keep ramming on through.

The moment Sakura's tightening walls suffocate around you, you're helpless, her legs so constricting you can't do anything but keep every inch deep inside. You're gripping her ass so tight as those legs stay wrapped tight around your waist, and you thrust into her hard—giving her everything her soaked pussy is begging for. Every moan echoes, and she’s dripping all over the kitchen tile—soaking you both, with nowhere to go except the floor beneath.

"Good boy, such a good boy for mommy," Sakura cries out, but doesn't seem to notice how her legs are beginning to loosen their hold. "Let it out, baby. F-fucking let it all out."

Everything else is a blur when you lose control, right as the words sink in, unable to resist her clench for even another second longer. All it takes is a few pumps—

You cum. Right as she wants and you can't help it, burying inside to shoot the most sharp climax of the day. With one final, animalistic grunt, every twitch of your cock spurts sticky, white seed straight up into her walls. Deep inside that intoxicating cunt that grips you tighter by the moment, keeping your throbbing cock lodged inside while your balls empty.

Until you have nothing else. Until it's pouring right out of her wet cunt, all your strength concentrated in your hips, with your legs on the verge of buckling underneath the sheer force it takes to keep Sakura held up.

That's how this ends. This combination of depraved moans and greedy kisses, violent throbs that don’t cease as you pump everything into Sakura—until you meet your demise, falling onto the kitchen floor in a heap with her lying on top of you.

Her tiny body feels ten times heavier, or maybe it's the cold kitchen tiles, the exhaustion—you're not really sure.

She stays above, the mess between her legs threatening to leak right back out as she devours your lips in all these hungry kisses, tangling her fingers in your hair like she’s praising you for a job well done.

"I said don't drop me."

"Didn't. My legs gave out," you clarify between kisses as she moves to the side of your neck, and can't help but break out into giggles.

"Poor baby, mommy used you so much. Couldn't handle filling my tight pussy again?"

"Not my fault mommy wore me out. So insatiable and demanding.”

Sakura laughs, kissing down your face as the aftermath settles in, enjoying the mess between her legs.

“You wouldn't have it any other way. Don't pretend like you didn't enjoy cumming inside me twice."

She's right. Obviously. But you’re far too spent to even think about a comeback. You can't give her the satisfaction she seeks, so you'll just kiss her quietly instead. Before long, Sakura's the one failing to hide that smug little smirk that says she's not even close to being done—not when she grabs your wrists and holds them above your head, this display of dominance reminding you how you're always at her mercy.

"You like when mommy uses you whenever, however I need to—you'll do anything I say, no matter what it is. Isn't that right?"

There is absolutely no use fighting it. All you can do is give out a nod.

"Use your words. Good boys use their words."

"I love when mommy uses me,” you say, louder than before. “What mommy needs, she gets. No matter what. No matter when.”

“Mhm. There's my good little fucktoy."

Even in this worn out state, Sakura leans in, lips finding your neck as she sucks hard, determined to leave her mark—teeth sinking in without the slightest hesitation. The pain is so very welcome, proof that she really does own you. Her teeth leave that sweet spot, trailing fleeting kisses down your chest, until she teases a nipple with the lightest graze of her tongue.

The sensitivity is nowhere gone yet, so you can't help but whine out, even more when her fingers tease the other. Slow twists and rolls, a pinch here and there, it all does the job, adding the most minimal stimulation that feels so overwhelming. "If mommy wanted to ride you again right now, you'd let me, wouldn't you? No matter how sensitive and worn out that cock is?"

A question of pure torment. A question she already knows the answer to.

"Always. Wouldn't say no. Mommy can have this cock whenever and however she wants it."

"Good answer. Don't ever forget that. Mine to use and fill me as many times as I need.”

Sakura is slow when she rolls off you, lifting up just so you can see exactly what you've left between her thighs—a creamy mess that floods out, the results of what she can empty out of you.

"Those poor balls still had all this left to give me, made such a huge, dripping mess, hm?” It just leaks everywhere, with her fingers playing with the mess inside, trying to drag even more out. "Think you've earned a break, baby boy. Let's get you something to eat that isn't my pussy."

With that, Sakura helps you to your feet with the last shreds of energy she has left. The walk to the bathroom is slow, for both of you.

Hot water fills the bath, a healthy dose of bubble bath pouring in while the tub fills. it's exactly what your body needs, along with Sakura sitting behind you. When you relax against her, she tilts your head back, wrapping an arm tight around you, trailing light kisses along your shoulder and neck as your eyes close to relish the affection.

"You okay, baby boy?" Sakura asks with that sweetness in her voice that always catches you by surprise. You couldn't be better. No matter the exhaustion that makes it hard to move, her hands gently caressing all over is the best reward.

"More than ever." Your eyes feel heavier than ever, the kind of exhaustion where you could fall asleep in an instant. Though it's tempting, you don't want to miss a moment of her attention.

"Not yet. Stay awake for me, okay? So I can clean you up and make sure you're taken care of. My good boy deserves being spoiled."

That's enough motivation to do exactly that.

Sunday morning, and it's a rare day off for Sakura—something that comes along only once or twice a month. Weekends are just as busy for any real relaxation, which means this lazy day will be appreciated more than ever.

And because Sakura is free today, that also means you're by her side like a shadow.

This time, it’s the couch, legs half-tucked under her with the glow of a screen shining on her face. All Sakura has on is these tiny black gym shorts and a snug white top, thin enough you can practically make out the outline of her breasts. With every shift, the fabric rides up, exposing her flat stomach, that enticing bit of skin that you can't help wanting to drag your tongue against.

You're finding it hard to resist doing just that.

And then there are her tits—they're perfect and delicious, and even hidden behind fabric, you desperately want them in your mouth. Her body is a goddamn work of art, legs all creamy and silky smooth, that ridiculously tiny waist and the curve of her ass peeking out the bottom of her shorts. It's enough to drive you to absolute insanity.

Perfection. You're right here sitting next to her, not a word said with this ache in your pants getting worse by the second.

Her gaming sessions always go like this. Completely and totally distracted, lounging on the couch in whatever is most comfortable. When the mood hits, as it often does, it's not like you can really help yourself. The way she focuses so hard with her eyes glued to the screen, shifting to another position that exposes more skin while you massage her feet.

It's those shorts that show way too much thigh. That shirt that teases the curve of her breasts. And when those plump lips of hers wrap around a straw to take a drink—all you can imagine is them wrapped around a certain part of you. It’s so pathetic to be this weak, but you can't ignore the heat growing inside, not when her tight little body is on display and every bit of you is silently begging to give it the attention it deserves.

So you dive in—deliberate in every motion, but careful not to distract. Starting just above the waistband of her shorts, you can’t starve off the ache to press hot, lingering kisses right along that creamy skin.

Sakura catches on pretty fast.

"Baby—" Turning her attention, she glances down, furrowing a brow at the sight. “What do you think you’re trying to do?"

"N-nothing."

It’s a response that comes out as more than a little pitiful, as if you couldn’t fathom the idea of being caught.

"Clearly something, if you're distracting me from Splatoon like this," Sakura says, caressing the side of your face for a fleeting moment.

"Just—just thought mommy deserved a little attention."

"Aren't you the sweetest? But mommy is busy right now. On a three game winning streak that I don't plan to give up. So you'll have to wait."

Just like that, she goes back to her game without a further glance in your direction. You're not a stranger to being lower on her priority list, rejected for something else that has her attention. It’s not like you expect her to drop her progress or halt her fun—but when her shorts keep riding up, exposing more cheek—you can’t stand it. Not when it makes your pants uncomfortably tight.

Nor can you help but grind against her, slipping a finger into the opening of her shorts and grazing the lace of her panties. Sakura gives zero reaction, holding focus while your digits trace along the elastic.

"Now, now, baby boy—you better behave. Mommy told you she was busy."

Being scolded like this before is all too common, but in reality that’s little deterrent, if any. An easily dismissed warning that only encourages you to indulge, kissing at her inner thighs, until you’re close enough to breathe in her scent. You’re wearing the desperation on your face like a flashing sign, but you don’t care. You need relief. Badly.

"Someone is awfully needy." That’s when this hint of annoyance creeps up in her tone. Which goes ignored. Because when aren't you? Shameless and desperate is your specialty, and being turned down and told to wait isn't going to cut it. When the throb is this urgent, you can't hold back, not when Sakura looks like an absolute feast that you just want to devour.

It's getting increasingly difficult. You don't even have to do much that will distract her—just pull those skimpy shorts down, slide her panties to the side and bury yourself in her heat. That's the best solution to both of your problems, as simple as that. You’ve come this far, and there’s no turning back. More kisses up her thigh, as each touch gets more daring. It all goes ignored, even while you drag a finger along the small piece of pink cloth separating you from heaven.

"Baby, I swear if you make me lose right fucking now—" Sakura snaps, and you not sure you're ready to pay for whatever wrath lies in her words. But even that isn’t stopping you from doubling down.

"Mommy, please—"

A squeeze on her thigh combines with another kiss as a final push. "Need you. Need you so fucking bad. Wanna taste you, mommy. Wanna slip inside you and make you feel good. Please, I'll be quiet."

A moment passes before she sighs.

"You seriously think you'll be able to put your cock in me without making a single sound?" Despite the increased annoyance in her voice, the eye roll—you don't relent.

"I can. Won't make a sound, not even when I cum. You won't even know I'm here. Promise."

There's no way Sakura will believe such a thing, you can see that plain as day. You can see it in the tilt of her head, a glance that shows you she's not convinced in the slightest. It's not surprising either, you'd probably call bullshit yourself.

"No, that's not happening. If you're that fucking hard, you're gonna take care of that yourself.

"Mommy—"

"What did I just say? No shoving your dick in me until I lose. And I'm not fucking losing because you're too goddamn horny to wait."

"Mommy, please, I—"

"Do not make me repeat myself. Ugh, I swear," she scoffs, and you're not sure you've heard her this annoyed—nor do you doubt that you're pushing too hard. It’s a glare that comes and goes within moments as she turns her gaze back to the screen, one that almost makes you hesitate about speaking up again. "If you're that fucking desperate, then just fuck my feet or something. But you better stay quiet, and do NOT distract me."

You’ll take that. Hell, you’ll take anything at this point, and the generous use of her gorgeous feet to get yourself off unattended is worthy of a thousand praise-filled thank you's. With her cute, black painted toes curled around your hard dick while you slide between them is a better reward than you deserve.

Not another word as you take Sakura's perfect, pale, and pretty feet, and admire for a moment—how dainty they are and how many times they've gotten you off like this. Usually before bed, when you're just as desperate to get off as you are now. All you have to do is unzip your pants, free your cock—

And slide right in between those delicate arches. One step toward relief, it's almost impossible not to moan at the softness of her feet, enough pressure to make your head spin. The hardest part is keeping your promise, with your cock sandwiched in these soft, silky smooth arches.

Thankfully, this isn't going to take long at all.

The friction is everything you need, and each thrust elicits a moan that you try your damnedest to suppress. You have some actual self-control, you think—maybe you don’t, you’re about to find out. For now, it's going to be a challenge as you squeeze her pretty painted toes around your shaft to tease yourself, before sliding your cock in a delicious little rhythm while you fuck her feet. They're silky soft, and god you don't know how much longer you can be silent.

"These fucking idiot teammates, I swear—" Sakura mutters, letting off some steam now that the game can have her full attention.

You'll leave her alone, and concentrate on pumping your cock between her heavenly soles. Even a bit slower, given all you need is to stay nestled between and let the friction bring relief, spitting in the space between to give some extra slickness to this whole thing.

The desperation is real, and your moans aren't too muffled—so you pray that she’ll keep herself occupied and ignore what slips out. Every drag along the softness of Sakura's feet, every graze her toes give you is bliss. Every time you pause to slap your cock against her silky arches before sliding back in, it gets harder to hold back. Moans getting as deep as your breathing the more you continue to use her feet to jerk yourself off like this.

"They better fucking get it together. S-rank my ass, they're dead weight. Dead fucking weight. How the fuck did these assholes rank up anyway,” Sakura continues mumbling, cursing her squad and ignoring every groan that you let slip in the process, biting back all of your gasps.

Using her feet to stroke your shaft is a damn good compromise. Your teeth clench while your cock pushes into her soft soles isn't enough to drown out how good Sakura's feet feel. This is perfect as it can get—the intense squeeze against your aching shaft cock that keeps sliding in and out, the precum coating her toes.

You can barely think straight. Getting so fucking close to blowing right there, each stroke threatening to set you off with the way her toes wrap around each side of your shaft.

"Oh, for fuck's sake—goddamn spawn campers. Oh no, you don’t, you little bitch!" Sakura slams down her console on the cushions, somehow ignoring the frantic way you’re pumping away between her toes. Her anger almost gives you the fuel to fuck her feet faster—and they clamp down harder as a result.

Thrusting between them gets even better with each passing second, this tighter squeeze as the friction gets you closer and closer, desperately wanting to pump yourself faster, fuck her gorgeous feet and just cum all over them. And that's exactly what's about to happen.

"M-mommy, so close," you groan out, forgetting your promise to not make a sound and throw your head back. It's too fucking good, the feeling of them on either side of your dick, this intoxicating grip you don't want to part from anytime soon.

"God, who the hell taught them to play? Fuck this map. Fuck this team," Sakura spits out, slamming a fist down next to her on the couch. You however, are seconds away from blasting a mess all over.

"Mommy, mommy—" You're spilling right then, cursing under your breath as you try to fuck your cock faster between her soles while cum spurts everywhere. Your cock twitches wildly, spurting along the insides of her feet, on her soles, splattering all over her toes and blasting all the way even to her ankles—while Sakura pays absolutely zero attention to your release. It's a filthy mess, a stream of thick white coating the pale skin, running between her toes and even staining the fabric of the sofa cushions beneath.

While Sakura is seething, you're panting heavily, gripping onto her ankles and milking yourself dry with more strokes, eventually just moving her feet so that the tips of her toes are still stroking the sensitive head, your hot, sticky mess being dragged along. You give in and moan the more you thrust, sliding into her silky arches for one last bit of bliss, savoring the sight of your release coating her feet.

"Okay, fuck this, we are NOT playing this garbage map again. This game is absolute shit, god, they all suck."

And Sakura nearly tosses her console across the room before even noticing the mess on her feet. She stares, furrowing her brow to her once pristine soles, now coated in white streaks, dripping between her toes, and clinging to wherever else it landed.

You look so spent, unapologetic and so satisfied—huffing to catch your breath while your cock stays nestled between.

"Well, would you look at that. Just couldn't contain yourself for one fucking game, could you? Had to use my pretty feet to get yourself off?"

All you can do is nod your head. Words aren't coming easy at the moment, especially not while you're lost in how gorgeous her feet look all covered in your creamy load.

"What am I going to do with you? Especially with how loud you were. Don't think because I was too busy dealing with AFK shitbrains that you couldn't follow a simple rule," Sakura continues and flexes her cute, cum-stained toes—letting your sticky mess drip further and coat the pale flesh. "I'm sure you didn't forget your promise, but you couldn't even do that. Fucking yourself like a pathetic slut between my feet. Did you get it all out?"

There's not an ounce of remorse in the nod that comes afterward. With all this pent-up stress and anger Sakura is letting off, you're scared to even utter another word.

"I didn't hear an answer. Did you—get it all out?"

This time, you don’t dare hesitate. "Y-yes, mommy, I did."

"Good. Then you can clean it all off. Now." Sakura folds her arms across her chest, her full attention on you now. Her foot rises in the air, showing off the slick streaks that still linger. Her toes spread wide and you know all too well what to do—a command you don't dare protest.

A glance to look at your handiwork between her dripping toes. That's when your lips capture a single one to suck clean—starting at the big toe, the one that's your favorite to suck on.

"That's right. Clean up your mess, and then get the others."

The salty taste of you all over hardly even registers when you get another chance to suck on Sakura's perfect, pretty little toes. Slow sucks and licks between, all the taste of skin and stickiness of your orgasm. Her gaze never falters, ensuring you take your time, not missing a spot while cleaning up until you suck the next toe.

Long drags along her arches, gathering every drop while you kiss and lick on that tender skin. It's heaven between her toes, taking time to let the tip of your tongue trace patterns along the silky smooth soles, while all the rage built up in Sakura seems to slowly fade.

"My pathetic boy likes licking the mess you made between mommy's toes. Loves cleaning up after himself like a depraved slut, sucking them clean."

You can’t even disagree, a loud slurp while you take two painted toes in at once, sucking until the majority of her toes captured between your wet, slobbering mouth glisten with all your spit. And you don’t stop for a second—you alternate between sucking, running your tongue down her soles, up her arches to capture every drop while Sakura enjoys every second of what you're doing.

No trace left behind of the way you used her feet for your own pleasure, and even when it’s all cleaned up, you don’t dare stop until she allows it. Sucking every toe, licking every creamy inch of her feet like you’ll never get a chance to ever again. Once her big toe pops out of your mouth, both soles raise up, all shiny with your saliva and press directly into your face.

"Naughty thing. All you had to do was sit quietly. Wait for me to finish my game, and you could've cum inside me all you wanted. Maybe even bend me over the counter and eat my ass too,” Sakura says, soles deeper into your face so all you can breathe in is their scent.

"But you didn't listen—“

She presses down more with each second that passes, adding more weight to really give you the satisfaction you've been seeking. "Had to be a greedy whore. If I really wanted to, I'd jerk you off as fast as I can, make you blow more loads again, and again. Not allow any break until you're shooting nothing. But even that, you'd enjoy too much…”

Again, she’s not wrong.

Not even if it left you unbearably sore and sensitive. Not even if the orgasms left you raw and begging to stop, would you even want Sakura to. Because maybe you're just a bit too obsessed with her.

And maybe that's been her whole plan since the beginning.

"Look at this cute face."

Sakura reaches over and caresses your cheek, giving a small pat before her fingernails trail down your neck.

Not that you can respond—not with one of her stockings stuffed into your mouth. As she’s told you, you don’t deserve the privilege of her panties. You can’t do much now, with one wrist bound to the bed frame with a necktie, the other secured the same way. And written across your bare chest, is a single word, ‘MINE’, in dark red lipstick.

Her panties are gone, bra removed, other stocking tossed aside with the rest of her clothes, as naked as she can be. She’s just taking you in, memorizing the desperation etched on your face.

"So pretty and helpless for me," she says with this dulcet tone that makes your breath hitch. "Where is that cocky attitude you showed me earlier?"

No answer even if you had one, her sheer stocking silencing even the weakest syllable. Sakura lets the image linger with a smirk on her face as she yanks the nylon free from your lips.

"Answer me. Where did all that courage go, baby boy?"

"D-dunno," is what you settle on, looking away from her gaze that's too intimidating to stare straight at. But that earns you nothing but a harsh slap to your face. The sting hits hard—and there's not a thing you can do but take the next that lands on the opposite side.

"Look at mommy when I’m speaking to you."

Another slap comes just as fast, and this time, the arousal is surging. Because god, you can't get enough of those manicured hands dealing out this delicious punishment, the pain only adding to your own desires.

"What’s the matter? All of a sudden you've gone shy?" There's no kindness in the slap that strikes with the back of her hand, sending another ache across your face. “What can I even do to punish you when you enjoy it this fucking much?"

No amount of scolding changes a thing. There’s no shame or anger—just satisfaction.

"Oh, I know,” Sakura muses, tilting her head with careful consideration. “Maybe I should just fuck myself on the strap that I use to pummel your ass. Use it to stretch my tight cunt instead and make you watch."

You know how this goes—what she's trying to do. While you'd normally object to the threat of being ignored or turned away, this trap isn’t going to spring so easily. Not this time.

"If that's what mommy wants…”

Sakura scoffs, in disbelief that you won't take the bait. She knows how easy you are to mold, and the idea that you could be anything else is unfathomable.

"Don't try to be bold. Mommy already knows what you are," she hisses, showing some hesitation to slap you again—especially with how well you took the last one. "Nothing but a pathetic, obedient little slut. So how about this—"

Again, you respond with little care, keeping up the cavalier attitude.

“Two toys at the same time, and neither of them will be you. You'll be lucky to be a spectator. Mommy could blindfold you for being so mouthy."

“Whatever makes mommy happy, that's all I care about. You deserve it."

Once again, Sakura looks disappointed by the lack of weight to her threats. "What's gotten into you? No begging? No pouting? Is my baby sick or something?"

You smile. Maybe you've learned a trick or two over time. When all she gets is a simple shake of your head, the frustration on her face grows. The little change in her demeanor when she's used to this going exactly how she plans—that’s something you'll never forget.

"If that's how you want things to be..." Her palm caresses the side of your face, nails scratching down from your cheek and past your jawline, while her lips slowly inch toward your ear. She drags her tongue over the outer shell before nibbling, coaxing a moan out of your throat.

Leaving the bed for a moment, Sakura approaches her nightstand and finds exactly what she’s looking for: a thin, black leather collar—one that matches a leash that's kept hidden away for special occasions. She holds it in her fingers for a few moments, just admiring it, stroking the material before grabbing one more thing from her dresser and heading back.

"Act like a brat and I'll treat you like one," Sakura says, wrapping the collar around your neck and fastening it in place. It's not tight enough to hinder breathing, but it certainly isn't as loose as you remember. "Since you're all tied up, I don't need the leash. But my dumb little pet decided to be all tough today, so we'll see how long you can hold out. When your cock is in my ass, and you can't even touch me."

Her fingertips trace the collar's strap along your throat, the delicate pressure making it a little harder to breathe. And this time when Sakura smiles—it’s the sort that lets you know the trouble you've signed yourself up for.

"Whatever makes mommy happy is all you care about? Is that right, baby?"

Before you can answer, she turns around, grabbing a small bottle that you're more than familiar with. With her back now facing you, the smooth curve of her ass is on perfect display as she pops open the lid to pour some lube into her fingers. "My ass could be on your face, your tongue buried in my asshole with you spreading my cheeks wide open. But now you're not going to be anything but a toy for mommy."

All restrained, you’re forced to watch Sakura sliding a finger right into that tight asshole of hers. Just one, then adding another—stretching out her ass nice and slow as they disappear deep inside.

"When your cock is in my ass, straining to not cum while I squeeze around you, and you’re begging to untie you so that you can pound me, so that you can fuck me into the mattress—"

With the way you're tugging on your binds, there's little doubt that it's all starting to work, your attempts to gain control over this situation are falling short. It only fuels her resolve to have her fingering her tight hole, letting every filthy sound escape, making sure she gets slick enough to fuck herself on your cock. "Now you've gone quiet. No more attitude? Or are you thinking about my tight little ass? That's all you want now, isn't it?"

There's little else you can do but obsess about it, about how good it's going to feel once you're buried deep, balls deep, the warmth and tightness that you crave, and the insane grip that would milk every drop out of you in a matter of seconds.

"My fingers aren't the same as your cock. We both know that," Sakura taunts. She turns a bit so she can pour lube over your shaft, staring into your eyes, to watch your expression linger on the bliss of her fingers stroking you.

"M-m-mommy—"

"Oh, so you've found your words now? Too late for that, if you think you're getting out of being a toy. Maybe you'll learn to behave a bit better. Good boys get to ruin my pretty little asshole, but brats have to sit back and watch."

She's trying to crack you, pumping your cock with her body angled so that you can only imagine pushing inside—how goddamn tight her ass will be. The taunting goes both ways here—and Sakura's lust outweighs her urge to break you.

"Not that you can do otherwise, but you're gonna be a good boy while I ride you and let you cum in my ass. Don't make me regret that."

Sakura leans back, hovering her ass right above your slick, painfully erect cock, showing some restraint just before. The hesitation cuts through you, unsure how much longer you can stand not being inside her, and then—her hips push down and bury every last inch deep inside.

You groan. Not just at the tightness that consumes every inch of your cock, her asshole clenching as her hands grip your thighs—but also that you don't have to hold back anymore. Now it's all pleasure, the way her ass rests on your hips, your balls flush against her soft cheeks.

Sakura barely takes any time adjusting. A shift of her legs, her bare feet flat on either side of your thighs, giving herself all the leverage she needs. Up, and then down, slow as can be. The view is deadly, her plump cheeks rising as she does, and then returning in a quick bounce, squeezing even tighter around you. And that's just the first time.

"So fucking hard, fits so well inside my ass, this is where your cock belongs—buried deep in mommy's asshole," Sakura sighs, hips building speed and taking you all the way in. The friction is perfect, the clench even better from this position as her nails dig deeper into your flesh, the impact of her bouncing ass getting louder and louder.

"So big, such a thick cock stretching out my asshole. Mommy's going to fuck this hard cock until you can't help but explode."

That's a threat you can get behind. You stare with rapt attention, watching her asshole take every thick inch as her pale cheeks bounce and smack against your thighs, swallowing all of you back inside every time her hips return down.

And then, without warning, the sensations stop. Sakura lifts up, enough to slide every last inch out of her ass, your cock slick with lube and twitching for relief. You can’t do anything but whine when she grinds her asscheeks along your length, the cold air a contrast to the warmth of her tight puckered hole.

"You really thought mommy would let you have my asshole? Just like that?" Sakura laughs, savoring every pathetic noise that you let out. Her hips move so slowly, the soft flesh of her cheeks grazing along your dick. It's torture. Absolute torture. And it's only going to get worse. The way she traps your shaft, with the way her fingertips brush against it to keep you in the warmth of her ass.

"You've gone quiet again, haven't you? Can't even remember how to beg?"

God knows you could never forget. This ache, the tormenting sensation of her gorgeous ass rubbing against you, grinding on your swollen shaft, denying any sense of relief that you yearn for. You don't want to give the satisfaction, to let the real need shine through—but she'll draw it out eventually, coax out every desperate plea in your mind.

Even as you form tight fists that clench hard enough to hurt, that makes her smile. Even as the desire becomes so consuming and you throb against her supple ass cheeks.

"Mommy. Mommy, please—god, I need you. Need to be in your perfect tight ass. Need you so bad, mommy."

All the shame comes in how quickly you cave in, an easy surrender in the blink of an eye just like every single time before. Even with the restraints on your wrists, the collar around your neck, there isn't any fight left. She's gotten everything she wants.

"Yeah, that's what mommy likes to hear. Now remind me—what are you?"

"Your obedient little slut. Your dumb little toy. Mommy's plaything—that gets used whenever mommy wants. Doesn't matter if I get left here tied up, my pleasure is always secondary to yours."

"And don't you forget it. You're just a tool to get me off. A pretty toy to shove in my cunt until I cream all over you. But mommy takes care of her toys, of everything in her possession."

With that, Sakura stands up again and shifts her body around, tossing a leg over your hips to straddle your waist and face you. The loss of seeing her ass doesn't compare to the sight of her lovely face, her silky hair that falls over her shoulders, and that perfect little grin.

Another cold sensation over your throbbing cock, more lube that'll have you buried back inside her ass in no time. Her hand finds it to guide right where she wants. It's almost agonizing, waiting for her to lower down, and the way the rim of her tight puckered asshole spreads around your swollen tip. Yet she doesn't move, just staying in place with every last inch held inside.

Sakura glances down, at your pathetic, helpless state—and leans over so her tits press flush against your chest. Without a word, she practically rips the collar off your neck, but doesn't even dare loosen the ties wrapped around your wrists. Instead, she replaces the leather with her grasp, her hand wrapping around your throat, squeezing enough for you to gasp.

"Mommy likes you better like this. So submissive and helpless, ready to listen to every order, every desire—not forgetting who owns you."

This close, her hot breath tickles the side of your face, so she can see all the desperation as her ass grips down tight around the head of your cock after lifting up the slightest. Just teasing, squeezing the tip and not letting an inch sink further in.

"That's where your thick cock belongs. Inside my tight little asshole, swallowing you deep. My little pet that can't keep quiet, had to be reminded who's in charge."

It's hard to get every word out with Sakura squeezing harder around your throat, but you don't ever need the pressure to let up for any reason. Her hips slam down hard, sinking down on every inch of your cock in her ass—a tightness that you can't even comprehend. A vice grip that almost has you losing the strength to keep holding yourself together. The heat, the squeeze, you swear it feels tighter than the first time.

"This is what good boys get, isn't it? Getting your cock ridden until you get to fill mommy’s tight ass with cum,” Sakura says, not breaking eye contact for one moment with her delicate hand locked so tight around your neck. You're the definition of overwhelmed, airflow restricted while her ass bounces on top in rapid, harsh movements that only get harder to handle with each rock of her hips.

You're too gone to answer with anything but a nod, and you can't look anywhere else. Not with her hand clutching around your throat like the collar tossed aside—not when the look in her eyes has you utterly lost in lust.

At this point, you hardly care about the fabric around your wrists keeping you from touching her. This is more than enough, the rhythm and fervor she fucks herself down on top, not looking away for a second as she chokes you and rams her ass down onto your cock. The tightness, the way her tits bounce so perfectly—god, you're so close already. You're trying so hard to shake it off as long as possible, but there's no use to fight the inevitable.

"M-mommy, I'm, I'm gonna—"A quick nod and a smile before you can finish the sentence, followed by a tight clench that demands you do exactly that.

"It's ok, baby—fill my ass up. Fill me right up."

Not a word said as the force of her hips sends her ass down for those final bounces, until you're shooting your hot cum inside of Sakura, flooding her tight hole. Every spurt throbs violently as she watches you give in, never ceasing that grip on your throat as you erupt. Just throbbing as she milks you dry, every spurt squeezed deep inside her warm, tight asshole until you've given everything you possibly can.

"Good boy, such a good boy. Mommy's sweet boy came so much…” When her hand leaves your throat, you’re too exhausted to even complain, no strength for anything as she’s caressing your face. Kisses come next, all along your cheek, before her soft lips meet yours for an even deeper kiss.

You want to touch her, to pull her in close, to do something—anything as Sakura plants kiss after kiss. But all she does is lift off your sensitive cock, the emptiness immediate, that thick load dripping down out of her ass and oozing everywhere. And she makes sure to finish the job, fingers grabbing at your spent cock to pump out whatever remains.

“My good boy made quite a big mess, didn’t he? Such a huge load inside mommy’s ass…"

Even with nothing left in your balls to drain, Sakura keeps pumping, fist a blur around your slick length that rips all these desperate noises from your throat. "Now, now. Mommy knows you're sensitive, but that doesn't mean we should stop. Your cock is still hard, so that means you need to be milked again, doesn't it?"

Nothing comes out from your mouth but another pitiful whimper, because the sensations never stop as Sakura pumps her hand even faster. It's nothing but painful, torturous overstimulation that makes your whole body jerk. And every time you pull on the restraints, that only makes the smirk grow.

"Fuck, I can’t, please, mommy, p-please—“

She refuses to let up at that merciless pace, each stroke getting faster, grip a little tighter, the ache in your balls harder to deal with more by the second. “Mommy doesn’t care if you can’t. You’ll go again if I say you will, because your greedy fucking cock exploded in my ass. Which means I didn't even get to watch all that cum shoot out. Not very fair now, is it?"

The torturous pace of her stroking doesn't let up. Fast, painfully fast strokes and squeezes all the way up your shaft, with her other hand feeling up your aching balls. A rough squeeze to them—one that makes you jerk so hard the bed shakes, making your dick throb even more.

"See? Still so heavy and full. Not nearly done cumming, now are we?"

"M-mommy, fuck—" you swear under your breath, bucking your cock into her grasp as she pumps without mercy, keeping a hand squeezing your balls like they’ve got an endless amount stored.

"Don't mommy me. Good boys can cum more than once, can't they? Shoot out another thick massive load that’ll make mommy so damn proud.”

You’ve never been this helpless. There's no escape from these overstimulating sensations, each squeeze to your aching balls or pump of your length drawing out more of this painful pleasure. All while you can't do anything but clench your fists. Sakura’s got no end to these evil intentions, thumb rubbing against the underside of your cock with her hand speeding along.

"Jesus—god, fuck, please," you curse, wrists straining hard while Sakura ignores every desperate plea.

"Oh, don't think that begging will do you any good. This isn't for you. This is for mommy."

As if you already didn’t know that. Through all of this, the ache, the soreness of your poor cock, you still need this—need to reach that edge again, maybe more than she does. You don't even know whether to beg her to keep going, or for the opposite.

At least there's an end to this torment. Not like earlier in the week, where Sakura edged you from behind in front of a mirror in this exact room, so you could see your own pitiful reflection. A hand stroking your dick so fast—to be pulled right to the brink and then stopped completely, right before cum spurted out in thick, hot streams across the glass.

"M-mommy—" That word leaves your lips so effortlessly, sounding so pitiful as you let the sensations consume your whole body, not even able to tell the difference between pain or pleasure anymore. You're just lost in this blissful torture, in every aching stroke that makes your balls tense up. But all that tension eases off—when your cock throbs one last time before Sakura stops and pulls her hand away, right as you finish emptying what's left in your balls out across your stomach, untouched the whole time.

It's cruel, the look she gives you when your cock twitches even in this weak orgasm that she's refused to help you with. The visual is enough for her, but the whimpers, the frustrated groans, they’re making sure that twisted grin doesn't go anywhere as your swollen tip keeps shooting out pathetic little spurts that leave her more satisfied than you are. Even more when a single fingertip teases along your sensitive shaft, a simple little graze that comes a little too late.

"What do you say, baby boy?"

Ridiculous that you should even think about thanking her, for an orgasm you didn't even want, nor did you even get to enjoy—and yet you do, out of pure mindless adoration. "Th-thank you, mommy. Thank you for making me cum again."

It’s almost laughable—how Sakura shifts, from soft and sweet one moment, to an absolute sadistic demon the next. For now, her sweet side lingers as she laughs, glancing down at the mess you've made and kissing you without a second thought. The same moment, she's untying your wrists, massaging them as she peppers kisses all over the tender skin. Breaking out the lotion is next, from a nearby nightstand drawer, the same one used on your ass when she gets a little too crazy with the riding crop.

"Good boy. Mommy is so proud of you, I knew you'd shoot a big load again."

The praise barely registers when you're about to collapse, but you'll take it, let the words flood through as those warm kisses get even sweeter, spreading her fingertips along the sticky mess that's coating your abs. The sticky substance she spreads around, lifting up her wet finger and just popping it in her mouth with no hesitation.

"I love tasting what comes out of my toy. It's my favorite part." Sakura takes her time, one sloppy lick at a time. She cleans off the mess with her tongue, dragging a slow path across your body and swiping away each drop until what’s left is the sheen of her spit once the rest is cleaned away. Then those same lips crash against yours and the taste of yourself is practically dripping off her tongue as it shoves into your mouth. No hesitation to deepen the kiss either, guiding your tongue like she owns your mouth with her hands grabbing either side of your face.

Her lips are warm and the last bits of your release mixed with her spit slide between your lips as you lap away every trace of that bittersweet mixture until there's no more to enjoy. Until she keeps your face cupped in her hand, then with your mouth still open—she spits right in, landing it perfectly and it hits right in the back of your mouth.

"Now swallow that."

Of course you obey, tongue out like you have a craving for more. Sakura is happy to oblige and spits in your mouth a second time, holding your face close as you eagerly accept all she gives.

"Who's my pathetic good boy?"

That question hits differently with Sakura's loving smile directed down at you, hand brushing back a few loose strands of sweaty hair on your forehead. "M-me, mommy. I am. Your pathetic little fucktoy."

"Never forget that. Mommy's precious toy who loves getting his ass plowed like a slut. Now come on—it's getting late and we should sleep. You'll need rest for tomorrow."

The next morning rolls by and you're barely cognizant of your surroundings, when you're awakened with fingers threading through your hair and a familiar warmth right beside you. Sakura seems to be awake for some time already, sitting against the headboard, thumb tapping against her phone screen while her other hand is in your hair.

"Good morning, mommy—"

Sakura laughs. "It's already afternoon, silly."

A glance at the bedside table confirms what Sakura's already said, clock staring back with a harsh reminder that noon has long come and passed, the sun much brighter than when it usually wakes you up in the early hours.

"You really needed the sleep, so I tried to not bother you, baby boy. Did you sleep well?"

How could you not, really? With all the exhaustion hitting all at once—the soreness in your muscles, the bruises on your wrists, the scratches along your back. Not forgetting the paddle marks on your sore ass still yet to fade, just a few examples. Not forgetting the moment of her plump ass smothering you with all that softness and warmth, sinking deep down, until you can barely breathe from how she relentlessly fucks your face.

"Baby boy—"

It takes a little tug from Sakura's fingers, a brief snap out of your thoughts, for you to realize you haven't responded yet. "Yes—of course, mommy. I did, I slept great. Better than I have in a while."

She's unconvinced at first, putting her phone down for the time being and giving you all her attention when she swings her body over yours. Straddling your hips, the hem of the long t-shirt she's wearing rises higher until you catch a peek of what's beneath.

"You sure about that? Can't have my poor toy be too worn out. Mommy was pretty rough yesterday, can't have you falling apart on me just yet."

The reality is—falling apart is inevitable at this point. You're been far beyond that since the beginning, put through the ringer enough times that you aren't sure if there's a part of you not broken. Every dirty, degrading act you thought she could possibly throw at you. Every toy imaginable stuffed in you to ruin your ass. Every painful edging session—tied to the bed with your wrists held down with handcuffs, rope, zip ties—every inch of your skin kissed, nipped, and bitten. Enough cum blown across every surface imaginable, or just over Sakura's open palm, her face, inside her cunt, all over that pretty ass that you'd lay your life down to worship.

And still, you're more addicted to this girl than ever. To that smile while her fingers rest right on your cheek, to the bruises on your neck from her choking you. "I'm okay, mommy. I'm okay—"

Your words fade once again and you're not even sure if you believe what's being said, but Sakura seems to, which is all that matters. Enough that she'll brush those messy bangs out of the way and bend down, enough that she'll plant soft little kisses along the fading marks across your neck, tracing the purple hue. Kisses just as light along your collarbone, until she inches down little by little, every scratch and bite along your skin being cared for and soothed, her lips pressing all over your body with so much affection you never want it to end.

"Since I was so rough yesterday, and because you've been such a good boy—you get to relax and we don't need to do anything all day," Sakura says, lips not straying too far from your mouth for too long.

"Just wanna stay in bed with you all day, mommy. You can play games and I won't bother you, and I'll just..."

She laughs, pressing a firm kiss at the corner of your mouth. "You can bother me, baby boy. Bother me all you want—all you need."

"Can we order food?"

"Whatever you want. You know I hate leaving the house unless I absolutely need to. Only for work and important things—nothing else."

"Cheesecake?"

"Only after eating other actual food," Sakura scolds, sitting straight back up and reaching for her phone.

"The extra expensive one with raspberry glaze and ice cream?"

"Yes, that one. The fanciest cheesecake you can imagine. You can have two, even, just don't make yourself sick."

"Can't promise that—" That laughter hits louder than before, echoing around the room. Sakura just shakes her head before a finger slides across her phone screen a few times.

"All the cheesecake you want then, baby boy."

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