˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀ || if you're a minor and decide to view my 𝒏𝒔𝒇𝒘 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒔, i do not care. i give enough warnings, and whatever 𝒚𝒐𝒖 cosume on the internet is not my responsibility.
愛 » if you want to be moots, i am super open!! just hit me up if any of y'all are interested!! ❥︎
❥︎ just imagine boyfriend!izuku fucking you in his dorm, buried deep inside your sopping cunt, only for him to unintentionally lock eyes with his prized all might poster . . . | » 𝒏𝒔𝒇𝒘! 𝒎𝒅𝒏𝒊!
you’re a mess beneath him, legs wrapped around his waist as he fucks into you with this desperate, stuttering rhythm.
his forehead is pressed against yours, breath hot and uneven, and every time you moan he lets out this tiny, broken whimper like he can’t help it.
he leans down to kiss you, eyes fluttering shut—
and then they snap open.
you feel him go rigid. his hips stop. his cock, which was so nicely buried inside you, starts to soften, and you whine at the loss.
“izuku…?”
he’s staring at something over your shoulder. you twist your head to follow his gaze.
it’s the all might poster.
the one right above his bed. the one where all might is pointing heroically, smiling that big, bright smile.
your boyfriend's face is the color of a tomato. he pulls out with a wet plop and scrambles back, sitting on his heels, hands covering his face.
“all might,” he whispers, voice cracking. “i swear… it was a lapse in judgement. i—i got carried away. i’m sorry.”
you blink. then you snort. then you’re howling with laughter, clutching your stomach as tears prick your eyes.
“izuku—baby—he’s a poster—”
“he saw!” izuku wails, still not looking at you. “he saw everything!”
you’re still giggling, tears glistening on your cheeks, and izuku’s face is buried in his hands, mortified. his cock is soft and wet against his thigh, and you can see the tips of his ears burning red.
“babe,” you wheeze, “it’s just a poster.”
“he looks at me,” izuku mumbles into his palms. “he’s always looking.”
you bite your lip, an idea sparking. you crawl over to him, pressing your naked chest against his arm, reaching down to wrap your fingers around his half-soft length. he jerks, peeking through his fingers.
“what if,” you whisper, stroking him slowly, “you just… don’t look at him?” you lean up and lick the shell of his ear. “look at me instead.”
he shudders, and you feel him twitch in your hand. you pump him gently, watching his eyes flutter as he gets hard again. he’s still flushed, but he’s looking at you now, breath hitching.
“okay,” he whispers, “okay, i can do this.”
you guide him over you, positioning yourself on your back, legs open. he settles between them, the tip of his cock pressing against your slick entrance. he’s trembling. you arch your hips, trying to take him in, but he freezes again.
his eyes have darted up.
to the poster.
“izuku.”
“he’s smiling at me,” he says, voice strangled. “like he knows.”
you groan, half in frustration, half in laughter. you reach over, grab a random t-shirt from his floor, and throw it over the poster frame, covering all might’s face.
“there,” you say. “he can’t see you now.”
izuku lets out a shaky breath. “okay. okay. thank you.”
he finally pushes into you again, slow and deep, and you moan as he fills you up. he starts moving, hips finding a rhythm, and it’s good—really good—his cock sliding in and out of your tight heat, his breath puffing against your neck.
then he moans your name, and his eyes flick to the covered poster.
“what if he can hear us?” izuku whimpers, thrusts faltering.
you clamp your legs around his waist, digging your heels into his ass, forcing him deeper. “then he’ll hear you fucking me senseless,” you gasp. “now move, nerd.”
he lets out a strangled laugh, and then he’s pounding into you, hard and fast, chasing that release. his mouth finds yours, sloppy and desperate, and you feel him twitch inside you.
“gonna—gonna cum—fuck—all might forgive me—”
you’re laughing even as you clench around him, and the absurdity of it all makes you cum harder, pulsing around his cock as he spills into you with a broken cry.
he collapses on top of you, panting, face hidden in the crook of your neck.
“i’m never going to be able to look at that poster again,” he mumbles.
you pat his sweaty hair. “good. now take it down and buy mirko poster instead. i don't have a problem with her watching.”
he groans, but you feel him smile against your skin. "oh, shut up."
y'all are lucky i have so many drafts . . .
anyways, all might can watch if he wants . . . i have no problem with two fine men detroit smashing my pussy
from the moment their union was forced upon him by some political bullshit from the clans, he despised her.
she was pretty enough, sure—sharp features, painted lips, always draped in those sheer, slutty robes that clung to her bony frame like a desperate whore.
but pretty didn't mean shit when she opened her mouth.
constant whining, nagging about every little thing. "i want this jewel from the east," she'd screech, or "why won't you fuck me like a real man?" as if her dry, uninviting cunt deserved his attention.
she'd slut around the estate, flirting with guards, spending his gold on worthless trinkets and powders that didn't even scratch his endless fortune. but the noise, the endless bitching — it grated on him like nails on stone.
sex with her was a chore, an obligation to keep up appearances.
he'd flip her over, ram his cocks into her without a second thought, chasing his own release.
her pleasure? irrelevant.
he'd spill inside her or on her face, pull out, and leave her panting and unsatisfied. she came sometimes, sure, from the sheer force of him, but he never cared to check.
never rubbed her clit, never kissed her skin, never made her body shake.
she was a hole to dump in when aggression boiled over.
then you arrived.
an offering from a wealthy city, trembling like a fawn in his throne room.
gods, you were perfection.
silky hair cascading down your shoulders, big eyes wide with innocence that made his cocks twitch instantly. plush lips parted in fear, and your body—fuck, curvy and soft, hips wide, thighs thick, breasts heavy and full.
no skinny stick like his wife; you were plush everywhere he wanted to grab, squeeze, bruise.
that deer-in-headlights look, so pure, so corruptible.
he claimed you that night, bending you over his throne and fucking you slow at first, watching your eyes roll as you sobbed his name.
within months, you were his favorite concubine.
he'd summon you daily to his private chambers, spoiling you rotten. silk robes that hugged your curves, jewels dripping from your neck and wrists, the finest foods laid at your feet. you'd blush and deny, but he'd growl, "take it , it's yours." and you'd melt, letting him dress you up just to rip it off later.
with you, sex was different.
he'd eat your cunt for hours, tongue lapping at your folds until you squirted on his face, screaming.
he'd make you cum first, always—fingers curling inside you, thumb on your clit, until your plush thighs quivered. only then would he fuck you, one cock stretching your tight hole while the other rubbed against your ass or slid in right next to the other one.
he cared if you were content, your bliss fueling his own.
his wife? forgotten.
he'd only touch her when rage demanded an outlet, pounding her roughly before seeking your soft warmth to soothe him.
today had been hell.
his wife had been extra insufferable—strutting around in a robe so thin her nipples poked through, whining about some rare fabric merchant who refused her overpriced order.
"you're the king of curses! make him sell it to me!" she'd snapped, hands on her hips, tits jiggling like the cheap whore she was.
her voice drilled into his skull all day, interrupting meetings, following him like a shadow.
by nightfall, something snapped.
enough.
he wouldn't hide anymore. roaring for a servant, he barked, "summon my concubine. to the marital chambers. now."
you arrived minutes later, heart pounding, dressed in the sheer pink silk he'd gifted you yesterday.
it barely contained your curves, nipples hard against the fabric from the chill air.
the marital chambers loomed huge—his massive bed dominating the center, draped in crimson silks stained from years of his wife's futile attempts to please him. you knelt at the door, eyes downcast. "my lord," you whispered, voice soft as you kneeled.
sukuna lounged on the bed, four arms flexed, his form towering and monstrous. his two cocks already half-hard, thick and veined, jutting from his lower body like weapons.
tattoos glowed faintly on his skin, eyes burning with hunger. "come here , my little whore," he growled, voice low and commanding.
you crawled to him on hands and knees, that innocent gaze making his cocks throb fully erect. he grabbed your hair with one massive hand, yanking your face to his laps. "mm, suck them both. you can do that, hm baby?"
you nod, plush lips parting, tongue darting out to lick the first cock's tip. precum beaded there, salty and thick; you lapped it up, moaning softly.
wrapping your hands around the bases—one for each monstrous length—you pumped slowly, then took the first head into your mouth.
it stretched your jaw wide, veins pulsing against your tongue as you sucked, hollowing your cheeks. slobber dripped down your chin, soaking the silk robe clinging to your tits. sukuna groaned, two hands cupping your heavy breasts, thumbs flicking your nipples until they ached. "good girl. fuck, that mouth—made for my cocks."
you switched, popping off the first with a wet gasp, saliva stringing from your lips to the glistening tip. the second cock dove in, even thicker, forcing your throat to bulge as you gagged and slurped.
you bobbed deeper, nose brushing his pelvis, tears welling in your big eyes. he thrust shallowly, fucking your face while his free hands roamed— one pinching your nipple hard, another sliding between your thighs to rub your soaked pussy through the silk. "dripping already? my little cumslut. pussy already weeping for me."
foreplay dragged on for blissful ages.
he made you alternate, sucking one while stroking the other, your tongue swirling around ridges and veins. spit coated both shafts, pooling on the bed.
he ripped your robe open, exposing your plush body—tits bouncing free, nipples swollen and red from his mauling. his fingers plunged into your cunt, three thick digits stretching you, curling against that spot that made you whine around his cock.
"listen to you slobbering. choke on it, baby. take both tips if you can."
you tried, stretching your lips obscenely wide, both flared heads pressing in together. your jaw screamed, but you sucked greedily, tears streaming, pussy clenching on his invading fingers as he fingerfucked you to the edge.
"up," he snarled finally, yanking you off by the hair. he flipped you onto the marital bed—his and his wife's sacred space—and spread your thick thighs wide.
your pussy glistened, pudgy lips puffy and slick, clit throbbing. he positioned both cocks at your entrance, rubbing the tips through your folds, coating them in your cream.
"gonna fuck you on this bed. right where that whore sleeps. breed this perfect cunt and fill you up with my fucking children. ya' want that? fuck, yeah you do."
you whimpered, nodding eagerly, innocence shattered as lust overtook you.
he pushed in slow at first—one cock breaching your tight hole, then the second squeezing beside it. your pussy stretched impossibly, walls gripping like a vice. "fuck, so tight. fuck, you were practically made to be my personal cock sleeve."
inch by veiny inch, both sank deep, bottoms kissing your cervix. you screamed, back arching, nails digging into his arms. pain melted to ecstasy as he bottomed out, balls heavy against your ass. he held still, letting you adjust, one hand rubbing your clit in slow, firm circles. "breathe before m'gonna ruin you."
then he moved. pulling out halfway, slamming back in—both cocks pistoning in brutal unison. the bed creaked under his power, your body jolting with each thrust.
cream frothed at your entrance, dripping down his shafts, soaking his balls. your tits bounced wildly, eyes crossing as pleasure fried your brain. "look at you—dumb on my cocks already. tongue out, eyes rolled. my perfect little fucktoy."
two arms propped your limp form up, bouncing you like a ragdoll on his lengths. the third hand kept circling your clit, slick and precise, building that coil tight. the fourth cradled your head, fingers tangled in your hair, thumb wiping drool from your lolling tongue.
he fucked harder, cocks bulging your belly with each plunge. he presses down on the bulge in your abdomen, and you scream, hole clenching tightly around him.
"shiittt, feel that? both holes filled—no, same greedy pussy taking double. gonna flood you with seed. breed you full."
you sobbed, babbling incoherently — "kuna! too much! gonna—ahh!" — legs shaking, toes curling. the wet slaps echoed obscenely, pussy squelching around the invasion.
that's when the door slammed open. his wife stormed in, silk robe half-open, tits spilling out. she froze, eyes widening at the sight: her husband, true form rampant, double-fucking his bitch of a concubine on their bed. you, oblivious in bliss, screaming as he railed you. cream everywhere, your body limp and overwhelmed.
"what the fuck—" she gasped, face twisting in shock.
sukuna didn't stop. if anything, he thrust deeper, grinning with all four eyes locked on her. "watch, you useless bitch. see how a real woman takes cock? this pussy milks me— yours just lays there dry."
he bounced you faster, your crossed eyes unfocused, tongue dangling as drool trickled down. "she cums for me. screams my name. you? never made me grunt, never begged for my cum like this slut does."
humiliation burned her cheeks red; she stood rooted, unable to look away as your pussy clenched visibly around his pounding cocks.
"p-please—'ryo—g'nna cum!" you wailed, voice breaking. his clit-rubbing hand sped up, pinching the nub.
"cum, whore. squirt on these cocks while she watches."
ecstasy hit like a wave—you shattered, pussy convulsing wildly. clear liquid gushed out around his shafts, squirting in arcs that soaked his abs and the bed. "fuck — yes!" you screamed, body seizing, eyes fully rolled back.
he roared, chasing his peak. "take it — take my fucking babies!"
his hips snapped erratically, cocks swelling. hot cum erupted from both, flooding your womb in thick ropes. he fucked through it, grinding deep, ensuring every drop painted your insides.
excess leaked from your stretched pussy lips, creamy white mixing with your squirt. your belly swelled slightly from the load, your used pussy overflowing as he kept pumping.
his wife watched it all—your orgasm, his creampie, him letting you cum first — before whirling with a choked sob, storming out and slamming the door.
sukuna laughed darkly, slowing to shallow grinds. "good riddance." he pulled out with a wet pop, both cocks glistening with cum and cream. your pussy gaped, ruined and leaking rivers of his seed, clit twitching.
you lay there, practically braindead, and babbling nonsense—"ku-na… full… baby…"—limp and twitching in aftershocks.
he gathered you close, two arms cradling your plush body, another wiping cum from your thighs, the last stroking your hair with rare affection. he did not smile, though he was content. "ya' did well."
two months later, in his private chambers, you knelt before him again—this time with trembling hands pressing to your slightly rounded belly.
the healer had confirmed it: pregnant.
his seed had taken root.
sukuna's eyes gleamed, a possessive growl rumbling as he pulled you into his lap. "knew it. my cocks bred you true. carry my heir, little one. i'll fuck you through it all—keep that pussy full."
you blushed, innocent eyes shining, as his hands roamed your changing body.
his wife?
banished to the outer wings, forgotten.
you were his everything now.
a/n » yeahhhh, idk i lowk don't like this one and it didn't come out the way i wanted it to come out . . . nevermind !
the clock on your nightstand glows a soft 1:47 am, the room bathed in the dim haze of your bedside lamp.
outside, the city hums faintly, but inside your apartment, it's just the quiet rustle of sheets and your own frustrated breaths.
you've been at it for what feels like hours—legs spread wide on your bed, one hand clutching the pillow above your head, the other buried between your thighs. your small fingers, so tiny and delicate, circle your clit desperately, dipping in and out of your slick pussy, but it's never enough.
they just can't reach that perfect spot, the one that makes your vision blur and your toes curl.
your pussy clenches around nothing substantial, aching for more, dripping onto the sheets in pathetic little puddles.
you whine softly, hips bucking up into your palm, but frustration builds instead of release. your mind wanders to shouta—your boyfriend, older, broader, with those long, slender fingers that seem made for unraveling you.
his hands dwarf yours completely; your tiny palms barely cover his knuckles when you hold hands, and god, the way his fingers stretch you open, curling just right… you've seen stars from them alone.
the age gap between you never bothered you—his experience, his quiet dominance, it all makes you throb harder. but tonight, he's in the study, buried in paperwork from his hero work, probably half-asleep at the desk.
your clit pulses under your thumb, swollen and needy, but your fingers tire, slipping uselessly. "fuck," you mutter, tears pricking your eyes from the edge you're teetering on but can't cross.
you've tried everything—toys that don't hit right, humping your pillow like a desperate animal—but nothing compares to him. your body craves his touch, that size difference making every intrusion feel impossibly deep.
finally, you can't take it anymore. you slide off the bed on shaky legs, arousal slicking your inner thighs, and grab his oversized shirt from the floor. it swallows you whole, hanging to mid-thigh, your pebbled nipples poking against the thin fabric.
no panties—just your bare, glistening cunt exposed beneath.
padding barefoot down the hall, face flushed hot, you push open the study door. shouta's there, slouched in his chair, black hair messy and tied back loosely, red-rimmed eyes scanning papers under the desk lamp.
he's in his usual gray joggers and a worn black tee, looking every bit the exhausted pro hero. he glances up, eyebrow twitching slightly at your disheveled state—cheeks pink, lips bitten swollen, shirt riding up to flash your bare pussy.
"shouta," you whimper, voice small and needy, tiny hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "i… i can't…"
he sighs, heavy and tired, setting his pen down but not fully turning from his work. "it's late. go to bed." his voice is gravelly, sleepy, like he's fighting off a yawn, but his dark eyes linger on your thighs, the shine of your arousal catching the light.
"please," you whine, stepping closer, small hands reaching for his arm. your fingers look ridiculous against his forearm—dainty, barely wrapping around the muscle. "my fingers aren't… they're too small. i need you. need your hands." you shift, thighs rubbing together, a fresh bead of slick trickling down.
he rubs his eyes, stubble shadowing his jaw, the age lines around his mouth deepening as he exhales. "kitten, i'm in the middle of this." but even as he grumbles, his gaze drops to your chest, nipples hard and begging through the shirt, then lower to your soaked folds.
his cock twitches visibly in his joggers, the fat outline straining against the fabric. he shifts in his chair, but doesn't push you away.
you don't wait for more invitation. climbing onto his lap, you straddle one thick thigh, your tiny body settling against him easily—size difference making you feel so small, so fragile on his broad frame. his hands come up instinctively, one large palm cupping your ass, the other hovering near his papers.
"shouta, please," you beg, grinding your dripping pussy against his thigh, leaving a wet streak on his joggers. your small hands clutch his shoulders, fingers splaying wide but still not covering much.
he mutters something under his breath, sounding annoyed, but his free hand—the one not holding papers—slides between your legs without hesitation. those long, slender fingers brush your slick folds, and you gasp, hips jerking.
"so messy already," he rasps, voice low and rough, dipping one finger in easily. your pussy sucks it greedily, walls fluttering around the length that your own tiny digits could never match. "can't even get yourself off, huh? need my fingers to do it for you."
"yes," you whimper, nodding frantically, face buried in his neck. his scent—musk and faint soap—makes you clench harder. he doesn't rush, sleepy pace deliberate as he adds a second finger, stretching your tight hole.
the contrast hits you hard: his fingers are so much longer, thicker together than three of yours, knuckles brushing your entrance while the tips curl inside. he scissors them slowly, opening you up, his thumb grazing your clit incidentally.
meanwhile, his other hand flips a page, pen scratching notes like this is just another task. but his cock—god, that fat cock—strains harder against his joggers, the thick ridge brushing your outer thigh with every subtle shift.
you feel it throb, hot and insistent, pre-cum probably darkening the fabric. "shouta… feels s'good," you whine, rocking into his hand, your small fingers digging into his tee.
"quiet," he murmurs, but there's praise laced in, gruff and understated. "good girl, taking my fingers like this. so tight around them."
he pumps deeper now, the wet squelch filling the room obscenely, your arousal coating his palm. his fingers twist, finding that spot effortlessly—long enough to drag against it with every thrust. stars burst behind your eyelids, body arching as you keen high and desperate.
he works you methodically, sleepy eyes half-lidded but attentive, watching your face twist in pleasure. three fingers now, stretching you wide, the girth making your pussy burn sweetly.
your tiny hands clutch his wrist, feeling the veins bulge under your palms—so much bigger than you. "look at that," he growls softly, free hand pausing paperwork to tilt your chin up. "your little pussy's swallowing my whole hand almost."
"n-no," you sob, tears spilling, hips grinding down sloppy. his thumb circles your clit firmly now, fingers fucking in and out messily, arousal splashing. his cock nudges your thigh again, harder, the head outlined clearly, begging for attention he ignores.
"shouta, please, more—"
"patience, kitten," he praises, voice a low rumble. "i know exactly what you need." he curls his fingers relentlessly on that spot, palm grinding your clit, building you higher. your whines turn to whimpers, body trembling on his thigh, small frame shaking against his solid one.
the coil snaps suddenly—your pussy gushes around his fingers, squirting clear and hot over his hand, wrist, even dripping onto his joggers. "fuck—sho'!" you cry, convulsing, walls pulsing wildly.
he doesn't stop, fucking your cum back into you with deep, firm thrusts, his long fingers scooping the mess inside, prolonging the orgasm until you're a babbling, whimpering wreck.
"that's it," he murmurs, thumb rubbing your oversensitive clit. "gush all over me, good girl. so wet for me." only when you slump, panting, does he pull out, fingers glistening with your release. he brings them to your mouth without a word. "clean them. taste how good you cum for me."
you obey eagerly, tiny mouth stretching around three long fingers, tongue lapping your tangy cum. you suck messily, hollowing cheeks, eyes locked on his as his cock twitches against your thigh, straining painfully now. "so pretty," he praises, free hand stroking your hair. "your little hands could never."
but he's not done. with a sleepy grunt, he lifts you off his lap like you weigh nothing—size difference stark—and sets you on the desk, papers shoved aside. your legs dangle, pussy exposed and puffy. he drops to his knees between your thighs, stubble scraping inner skin as he spreads you wide with those massive hands. your small fingers tangle in his hair, tugging weakly.
"shouta—oh god," you whimper as his hot mouth descends. his tongue flattens over your slit, lapping up the mess you made, long and thorough. he sucks your folds into his mouth, humming low, the vibration making you jolt. his nose bumps your clit, fingers digging into your thighs to hold you open. he eats you out like a man starved, despite his sleepy demeanor—tongue spearing inside, curling deep where his fingers were, fucking you sloppily.
you whine nonstop, hips bucking into his face, his shirt riding up to expose your tits. he glances up, eyes dark, and latches onto your clit—sucking hard, teeth grazing just enough to make you scream. "too much—shouta, please!" but he growls against you, one hand sliding up to pinch a nipple through the shirt, the other bracing your hip.
his tongue works relentlessly, dipping into your hole, circling your clit, lips smacking wetly. your second orgasm builds fast, his experience knowing every twitch, every gasp. "cum again," he rasps against your pussy, breath hot. "drench my face, sweetie. show me how much you need this."
you shatter, gushing onto his tongue, thighs clamping his head as you sob his name. he drinks it all, licking until you're twitching oversensitive. finally, he rises, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand—still slick from earlier. "suck," he orders, pushing those long fingers back into your mouth.
you do, moaning around them, tasting yourself mixed with his spit. his cock presses insistent against your thigh now, fat and leaking, but he just watches you with that sleepy, satisfied gaze. "that's my girl," he murmurs. "only i can make you cum like this. remember that next time you try those tiny fingers."
he pulls you into his chest then, cock still straining untouched, but holding you close as you whimper softly, spent and sated in his arms.
the morning light filters through the sheer curtains of rafayel's bedroom, soft and golden, wrapping you in a warm glow that makes everything feel like a dream.
you're snuggled deep in his arms, your head tucked perfectly under his chin, his steady heartbeat thumping against your cheek. his skin is so warm, like he's your personal heater on this chilly autumn morning.
your cute night shirt—ruffled with adorable lace trimming the hem and neckline—clings softly to your body, paired with those tiny shorts that look more like cheeky underwear, riding up just a bit as you tangle your legs with his under the fluffy duvet. rafayel's fingers trace lazy patterns on your back, slow circles that make you melt even more into him. you sigh contentedly, nuzzling closer.
"mm, g'morning," you mumble sleepily, your voice muffled against his chest. he chuckles, that low, melodic sound that always sends little butterflies fluttering in your tummy. his arms tighten around you just a bit, pulling you impossibly closer.
"morning, cutie." he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. "you slept like a rock. i could barely move without waking you."
you giggle, tilting your head up to peek at his face.
his purple hair is all tousled from sleep, falling into his eyes in the cutest way, and his lips curve into that playful smile that makes your heart skip. "that's because you hog all the blankets," you tease, poking his side gently. he pretends to wince, grabbing your hand and kissing your fingertips one by one.
you stay like that for a while, just basking in the quiet coziness. the world outside doesn't exist right now—it's just you two, wrapped up in each other.
eventually, you start yapping, because that's what you do when you're comfy and happy.
"you know, i was scrolling through some fashion stuff last night before bed. there's this designer i absolutely love—her name's elise chen. her pieces are so dreamy, all flowy fabrics and delicate embroidery. like, imagine wearing one of her dresses to a beach gala, with the wind catching the hem just right…"
rafayel listens patiently, his eyes half-lidded but sparkling with amusement. he props himself up on one elbow, keeping you cradled against him, and nods along. "tell me more. what's your favorite from her collection?"
you light up, gesturing wildly with your free hand even though you're still tangled in bed, your lace-trimmed shirt shifting playfully. "oh! there's this one gown, pale blue like the ocean at dawn, with tiny pearl beads sewn into the neckline. it has these sheer sleeves that look like wings. i saw it on her latest runway show, and i was like, 'that's it, that's the one.' but it's so expensive, like, collector's item expensive. a girl can dream, right?"
he laughs softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "you'd look like a princess in it. my princess." his voice dips into that affectionate tone, and you blush, hiding your face in his neck with a bubbly giggle.
"stoppp, you're making me shy," you whine, but you're grinning so wide it hurts.
you chat more about fashion—you ramble on about color palettes, how elise chen mixes pastels with bold accents, and how you'd pair her designs with simple jewelry to let the dress shine.
rafayel chimes in with his artist perspective, talking about the brushstrokes in fabric patterns and how light plays on silk. it's so easy with him, your conversation flowing like a gentle stream, punctuated by kisses and cuddles.
at some point, he shifts, reaching over to the nightstand with one arm while keeping you pinned securely with the other. you don't think much of it, too busy describing a handbag from the same collection.
"and the clutch! it's embroidered with little fish scales—"
"hey, wait," he interrupts softly, sitting up a little more and turning you to face him fully.
he looks a bit nervous, which makes your yapping trail off. in his palm sits a small, elegant velvet box, deep navy blue that matches his eyes. your breath catches, eyes going wide with excitement.
"rafayel…? what's this?" you whisper, sitting up too, the duvet pooling around your waist, your ruffled night shirt all cute and rumpled.
he opens the box slowly, revealing the most breathtaking ring you've ever seen.
it's a 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠—you recognize the signature style instantly, that perfect oval diamond catching the morning light and scattering tiny rainbows across the sheets. the band is delicate platinum, etched with subtle waves, like the ocean he loves so much.
it's not flashy, but timeless, promising forever in every facet.
"i… i got this for you," he says, his voice barely above a murmur, cheeks tinged pink. "a darry ring. you know what that means, right? once it's yours, it's yours forever. no take-backs. i've been carrying it around for weeks, waiting for the 'right moment'—some big romantic adventure or starry night. but there never was one that felt perfect enough. every moment with you is the right one, so… now. right here, in our messy bed, with you in that adorable night shirt."
you squeal with bubbly delight, bouncing a little in excitement, your giggly laughter filling the room. "rafayel! oh my gosh, it's gorgeous! eeee, the waves on the band—it's so you!"
you grab his face with both hands and pepper his cheeks, nose, and lips with quick, happy kisses, your shorts shifting as you wiggle closer.
he grins, relieved and beaming, taking the ring out and holding your left hand gently. "knew you'd love it. had it customized just for us." he slides it onto your finger, and it fits perfectly, like it was made for you—because it was. the diamond nestles right there, cool against your skin but warming fast.
"it's perfect!" you giggle wildly, twisting your hand to watch it sparkle, then launching yourself at him again, kissing him deeply this time, your lips soft and eager against his. he kisses back, hands roaming to your waist, pulling you into his lap as your lace night shirt bunches up.
you pull back just enough to admire it more, giggling nonstop. "look at it sparkle! we're forever now, huh? my artist prince giving me promises—i love it!"
"yours forever," he murmurs, nuzzling your neck and stealing more kisses. you stay like that for ages, you showing off the ring every few seconds, giggling and planting kisses on him wherever you can reach—his jaw, his collarbone, back to his lips. he pretends to dodge, laughing, but pulls you closer each time.
"mine," you declare playfully, nipping his lower lip before kissing it better.
"all yours," he agrees, his hands slipping under your ruffled shirt to trace your bare skin.
the morning stretches on, lazy and perfect. you order breakfast in bed—pancakes with fresh strawberries, because he knows they're your favorite—and you can't stop waving the ring around, giggling at how it catches the light.
rafayel pretends to be jealous of the ring getting do much attention, tugging you back into his lap every time, his fingers playing with the lace on your night shirt. "mine first," he growls playfully, kissing your shoulder.
you talk dreams now, not just fashion. about your future—lazy mornings like this every day, painting together in his studio, walks on the beach at sunset. the ring feels like a promise sealing it all, a little piece of eternity on your finger that makes you bubbly every time you glance at it. you kiss him again, slow and sweet, your hands in his hair.
rafayel smiles against your lips, thumb brushing the ring. "happy like this always, okay? that giggle of yours is my favorite sound."
"deal," you whisper, giggling once more as you snuggle back down, his arms your safe haven, the darry ring glinting between you like a secret shared in the morning light.
this is just the beginning of your forever mornings, full of kisses and laughter.
the morning after levi had turned your tears into bliss, sunlight filtered through the heavy curtains of your bedroom, casting a warm glow over the tangled sheets.
you stirred slowly, your body still humming from the night before—sore in the best ways, marked by his touch in places only he would ever see.
levi was already awake, of course; the man rose with the dawn, his discipline unyielding even in the softness of your shared moments.
he sat on the edge of the bed, fully dressed in a crisp white shirt and black slacks, his silver-flecked hair neatly combed, watching you with that quiet intensity that made your heart skip.
"good morning, princess," he murmured, his voice low and steady as he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead.
you blinked up at him, a shy smile tugging at your lips despite the lingering ache between your thighs. "mm...morning," you whispered, reaching for his hand. he took it, thumb brushing over your knuckles in a rare display of tenderness before his expression hardened just a fraction—back to the stoic mask he wore for the world.
your father was still away on his business trip, the mansion echoing with emptiness without his booming presence. but levi had no intention of leaving you alone.
he had an opportunity.
and he would take it.
as you showered and dressed in one of the cute outfits he'd bought you—a soft pastel sweater and skirt that hugged your figure just right—he made a call.
you overheard snippets from the bathroom:
"yeah, i'll stay at the house. keep an eye on things… on her. she's been… difficult lately."
his tone was clipped, professional, the perfect lie to your father, who grunted approval on the other end before hanging up.
levi pocketed his phone, a faint smirk ghosting his lips when you emerged, towel-dried hair framing your face. "all mine for the week," he said simply, pulling you close for a quick, possessive kiss.
"now, let's get you spoiled properly."
the drive to the mall was silent but comfortable, his luxury car purring along the winding roads leading to the upscale complex he owned—a gleaming empire of glass and steel, filled with boutiques catering to the elite.
levi parked in his reserved spot near the entrance, and as you stepped out, it took no time for both of you to lose yourselves.
he was already carrying the first bags: oversized plushies peeking from the tops, a fluffy unicorn and a teddy bear with embroidered hearts, gifts he'd insisted on grabbing from the toy store first thing.
"for my girl's collection," he'd said flatly when the clerk rang them up, but his eyes had flicked to you with hidden warmth.
the shopping spree unfolded like a dream tailored just for you. he trailed behind as you flitted from store to store, his arms laden with bags that grew heavier by the hour—dresses in flowing fabrics that would swirl around your legs, tops with delicate lace trims, shoes that clicked satisfyingly on the polished floors.
levi never complained, his face a mask of indifference as he swiped his black card without a second glance at the totals.
"whatever you want," he'd mutter when you hesitated over a particularly frilly blouse, his voice brooking no argument.
lunch was a quick affair at a rooftop café, where he fed you bites of your pasta with a fork, his free hand resting possessively on your knee under the table, thumb tracing circles that sent little thrills up your spine.
afterward, he indulged your whim for a manicure. the salon was pristine, all soft lighting and plush chairs, and levi settled into the one beside yours, legs crossed, scrolling through emails on his phone as if this were just another board meeting.
you chose a pale pink polish with tiny glitter flecks, giggling as the technician worked, and levi's gaze lifted occasionally, lingering on your hands.
"looks good," he said once, toneless, but you caught the approval in his eyes—the way they traced the fresh color against your skin.
by the time you were done, his bags were overflowing: more clothes, a few accessories, and those plushies that made your room feel like a secret haven.
now, as the afternoon sun dipped lower, levi steered you toward the final stop—the lingerie boutique tucked in a quieter wing of the mall.
it was one of the high-end ones, all velvet displays and dim, intimate lighting, showcasing pieces that whispered promises of seduction.
the sales associate recognized him immediately, her eyes widening slightly before she composed herself. "mr. ackerman, a pleasure. the newest arrivals are in the back. shall i prepare the private suite?"
he nodded curtly, "yes, yes...do as you wish."
the woman scurried off, and levi guided you inside with a hand at the small of your back, his touch light but commanding.
the private changing room was a lavish space: mirrored walls on three sides, a velvet chaise lounge, and a rack already being filled with the store's freshest stock—silks, laces, and sheer fabrics in every shade. the door clicked shut behind you, sealing you in privacy, and levi set the bags down before sinking onto the chaise, legs spread slightly, arms draped over the back.
his expression was stone-cold, unreadable, as if he were appraising a business deal rather than watching his love try on intimates.
"start with the frilly ones," he instructed, voice flat. you swallowed, heat blooming in your cheeks, but obeyed, slipping into the first set: baby pink panties with ruffled edges and a cute bow at the front, paired with a matching bralette adorned with tiny embroidered hearts.
the fabric was soft against your skin, innocent yet teasing, hugging your curves just enough to make you feel exposed under his gaze. you stepped out from behind the screen, twirling shyly.
"what do you think?"
his eyes raked over you, slow and deliberate, but his face gave nothing away. "turn around." you did, and he hummed faintly. "fine. next."
emboldened, you tried on more—white cotton boyshorts with playful polka dots, a set in lavender lace with scalloped trim that framed your breasts like a gift.
each time, you emerged, posing or lifting the hem to show how it sat on your hips, and levi's responses were clipped:
"adequate."
"show me the back."
"keep it."
he was stoic, unmoving, but you noticed the subtle tension in his jaw, the way his fingers gripped the chaise a fraction tighter with each reveal.
the selections grew bolder under his silent direction. a sheer black babydoll that draped over your body like mist, nipples peeking through the fabric; crotchless panties in red silk that left you bare and vulnerable; a harness-style top with straps that crisscrossed your torso, barely containing your chest.
you modeled them all, heart pounding as you caught glimpses of yourself in the mirrors—flushed, eager for his approval.
"this one?" you'd ask, tugging at a scandalous thong that rode high on your ass, strings thin as whispers.
he'd lean forward slightly, eyes narrowing. "spin. slower." his voice was ice, but the air thickened with unspoken heat, your pussy tingling from the exposure, from knowing he was fighting to stay composed.
by the time you reached the dozenth piece, your skin was warm, arousal simmering low in your belly.
the final one he pointed to was deceptively sweet: those little pink panties again, frilly with sweet little flowers embroidered along the waistband, paired with a cropped camisole that left your midriff bare.
you slipped them on, the cotton soft and innocent against your slick folds, and stepped out, closer this time.
"come here." levi said, his tone unchanging, patting his thigh. "i need to see it up close."
you hesitated only a second before straddling his lap, knees sinking into the chaise on either side of his hips. his hands settled on your waist, cool and steady, holding you in place as his gaze dropped to the panties.
up close, you could feel the heat radiating from him, the hard line of his cock pressing against the seam of his black pants, but his face remained impassive.
"these suit you," he murmured, fingers tracing the flower patterns lightly, sending shivers through you. "my pretty girl in pink. so innocent."
the praise cracked his stoic shell just a bit, and you leaned in, lips brushing his. "thank you, levi."
he captured your mouth then, the kiss starting slow—his tongue sliding against yours, tasting and claiming, exploring every inch with deliberate strokes that made your head spin. his lips were firm yet yielding, sucking gently on your lower lip before nipping it, drawing a soft gasp from you.
you melted into him, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders, fingers digging into the crisp fabric of his shirt as the kiss deepened, his tongue delving further, coaxing yours to dance in a rhythm that mirrored the growing ache between your legs.
but it deepened quickly, his grip tightening as he pulled you flush against him, chest to chest, the thin camisole doing little to hide the way your nipples hardened against him.
you whimpered into his mouth, rocking subtly at first, the friction of his thigh against your core sparking pleasure through the thin fabric of the panties.
the seam pressed right against your clit, teasing with every tiny shift, and you couldn't help but grind down a little harder, seeking more.
levi's hands roamed now, one sliding up your back to tangle in your hair, tilting your head for better access as he devoured your mouth, the other gripping your hip to guide your movements, encouraging the slow roll of your hips.
"fuck, baby," he breathed against your lips when he finally pulled back just enough to speak, his voice rougher now, laced with the desire he'd been holding back. his forehead rested against yours, breaths mingling as he stared into your eyes, dark and intense.
"you're 𝘴𝘰 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵. look at you, all dolled up for me. my 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 little princess, sitting 𝘴𝘰 pretty on daddy's lap."
his words washed over you like warm honey, each one stoking the fire in your belly.
he kissed along your jaw, trailing hot, open-mouthed presses to your neck, sucking lightly at the sensitive skin there until you arched into him, a needy whine escaping your throat.
"no one else gets to see you like this," he continued, voice dropping to a growl as his hand slipped under the camisole, cupping your breast fully now, thumb and forefinger pinching your nipple just enough to make you jolt.
"just me. you're 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦—𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 frilly 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 soft curve. these little flowers on your panties? they're like you—sweet, delicate, but hiding how 𝘸𝘦𝘵 you get for me."
he rolled the hardened peak between his fingers, tugging gently, and you moaned louder, hips bucking involuntarily against his thigh. the pressure built steadily, your pussy clenching around nothing as the fabric grew damper, the friction turning slick and insistent.
you panted, lips parting as you chased the sensation, grinding down with more purpose now, the rough texture of his pants through the thin cotton sending sparks up your spine.
"daddy, f-feels s'good," you whimpered, voice breaking on the words, tears of overwhelming pleasure pricking at the corners of your eyes.
levi hummed in approval, his free hand sliding down to join the first at your hips, both now controlling your pace—lifting you slightly before pulling you back down, making you ride his thigh with deliberate, teasing slowness that had you keening.
"that's it, ride me...𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭," he praised, his mouth returning to yours in a messy, heated kiss, tongues tangling as he swallowed your moans.
"feel how hard you make daddy? all because of his 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵 baby. you're doing 𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭, princess—look at how your pretty pussy soaks through those panties. all for 𝘮𝘦."
he flexed his thigh beneath you, the muscle tensing to press firmer against your clit, and you cried out into his mouth, the added pressure nearly pushing you over the edge already.
your nails scraped down his arms, leaving faint red trails on his skin, but he didn't flinch, only kissed you harder, his tongue fucking into your mouth in time with the roll of your hips.
tears slipped down your cheeks now, the intensity building to a fever pitch, every nerve alight with sensation.
"levi—daddy, please," you gasped when he broke the kiss to nip at your earlobe, sucking it between his teeth before whispering hotly against your ear. "need…need to cum."
your voice was a broken plea, body trembling as you ground down faster, the flowers on the panties utterly ruined, clinging wetly to your folds. he groaned, low and guttural, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours, his cock twitching against you from the friction.
"come on, cum for me, princess," he commanded softly, one hand slipping between your bodies to tug the fabric of the panties aside, exposing your dripping pussy to the cool air before pressing it directly against the rough wool of his pants.
the sudden bare contact was electric—your slick lips sliding over the textured material, clit dragging with every thrust of your hips.
"soak daddy's thigh. show me how much you love being my little slut in these cute panties. you're so beautiful like this, baby—whimpering, shaking, all mine."
his other hand cradled the back of your head, guiding you into another deep kiss as he rocked you faster, his thigh flexing rhythmically to meet your movements.
the praise, the friction, the way he held you so possessively—it all shattered you. your body tensed, thighs quivering around his as the orgasm crashed over you in relentless waves, pussy pulsing and clenching as juices spilled freely onto his pants.
you moaned long and loud into his mouth, the sound muffled but desperate, tears streaming as you rode out the high, grinding through the sensitivity until you collapsed against his chest, spent and shuddering.
levi held you through it all, his kisses turning soft and soothing along your temple, murmuring quiet praises—"good girl," "that's my perfect baby"—as your breaths evened out.
he held you close, kissing your forehead as you caught your breath, his stoic mask slipping back into place for the world outside—but for you, in this private haven, he was all warmth and possession.
"𝘢𝘭𝘭 of it," he said finally, nodding to the pile of lingerie. "we're taking 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨."
༆ | at first he doesn’t know what to do with softness. like you’ll reach for his hand and he just…stares at it for a second before slowly intertwining your fingers like it’s something fragile.
༆ | he doesn’t say “i love you” easily, but he shows it in these quiet, almost invisible ways. like always walking slightly on the side closest to the street, or making sure you’re standing in the shade instead of the sun.
༆ | he listens. like really listens. even when you’re rambling about something small, he’s memorizing your expressions, your tone, the way your eyes light up.
༆ | post-war guilt hits him hard at night. on those nights, he doesn’t wake you up, but he does shift closer, just enough that your warmth grounds him. eventually, you catch on and start half-asleep pulling him closer anyway. and the first time you do that, he freezes…then melts.
༆ | he’s so awkward with affection at first it’s almost endearing. like he’ll pat your head once and then internally panic about whether that was normal. but once he realizes you like it?? it becomes a thing
soft, slow head pats when you’re tired
fingers brushing your hair back without thinking.
༆ | he’s not big on words, but sometimes they slip out quietly.
“you should rest.”
“you’ve done enough today.”
which is basically his version of i care about you more than anything.
༆ | he learns your routines. your favorite tea, the way you like your blankets, what makes you calm down, and he starts anticipating your needs before you even say them.
༆ | when you’re upset, he doesn’t try to fix it immediately. he just sits next to you, shoulder brushing yours, silent but there
and somehow that’s exactly what you need.
༆ | the first time you cry in front of him, he feels completely helpless. but he gently cups your face anyway, thumbs brushing your tears away like you’re something sacred.
༆ | eye contact with him gets intense post-war. because now he lets himself feel things, and it shows. softer eyes, less guarded, more…human.
༆ | he’s lowkey clingy but in a subtle way:
always within arm’s reach,
always aware of where you are.
༆ | if you fall asleep on him?? he will not move. ever. his arm might go numb but he’s like “this is my life now”.
༆ | he starts initiating small touches over time. brushing your hand. resting his chin lightly on your head. pulling you just a little closer when you’re sitting together.
༆ | he’s learning how to apologize properly
not just “hn” or silence, but actual effort.
“i didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“i’ll do better.”
༆ | sometimes he just…watches you.
not in a creepy way, but in a “i can’t believe you’re real and you chose to stay” way.
༆ | he gets protective, but not suffocating
more like a quiet presence behind you, a steady reassurance that you’re safe.
༆ | the first time he hugs you first is a big moment. it’s a little stiff, a little unsure, but he doesn’t let go quickly. and you can feel everything he can’t say in the way he holds you.
༆ | you become his safe place without even trying. no expectations, no past, no guilt—just…you.
༆ | sometimes, late at night, he whispers things he’d never say during the day.
“thank you for staying.”
“i don’t deserve this.”
and you always, always remind him that he does.
༆ | he learns to smile more. small, soft, almost hidden smiles. but they’re real, and they’re because of you. he doesn’t need grand gestures.just sitting beside you in silence, your shoulder against his, is enough.
༆ | over time…he stops feeling like he has to earn your love. and starts accepting it.
the mansion felt colder than usual as the front door slammed shut behind your father. his footsteps echoed down the marble hallway, fading into the distance as he barked orders at the driver waiting outside.
another fight, another explosion of words that left you raw and trembling.
it started over something trivial—your latest shopping spree, the credit card bill that arrived like a slap in the face—but it escalated quickly, as it always did.
"you're spoiled rotten," he'd snarled, his face twisted in that familiar mask of disappointment.
"when are you going to grow up?"
you'd fired back, tears stinging your eyes, accusing him of never being there, of treating you like an afterthought in his empire of boardrooms and mergers.
he was a ceo, king of his domain, but to you, he was just the man who built walls higher than the ones surrounding your gilded cage.
by the time the car engine roared to life and tires crunched over the gravel driveway, you were already retreating to your room. the door clicked shut softly behind you, a barrier against the world.
your king-sized bed, draped in silk sheets your father probably thought were an unnecessary extravagance, became your sanctuary.
you curled up on it, knees drawn to your chest, the plushies levi had snuck in for you over the months surrounding you like silent guardians.
there was the fluffy bear with the little bow tie, the rabbit in a frilly dress that matched the lingerie sets he'd gifted you—delicate lace panties and bras that made you feel like the princess he whispered you were.
levi.
your father's best friend, the stoic ceo who commanded boardrooms with a single glare, but with you?
he was different.
twenty years your senior, with silver streaks threading through his dark hair and eyes that could pierce steel, yet they softened just for you.
you'd met him properly at one of your father's endless galas, when you were slipping away from the crowd, bored and restless.
he'd found you in the garden, smoking a cigarette you weren't supposed to have, and instead of lecturing, he'd just handed you his lighter with a quiet, "don't let him catch you."
from there, it bloomed in secret—late-night texts, surprise deliveries to your door when your father was buried in work.
he spoiled you rotten, not with the cold cash your father threw at problems, but with things that made your heart flutter:
a collection of stuffed animals that lined your shelves, outfits that hugged your curves just right, and those intimate pieces of lingerie that he confessed made him ache for you. "for my pretty girl," the notes always said, unsigned but unmistakable.
but tonight, even those couldn't chase away the ache.
your phone buzzed on the nightstand—levi, again.
you'd seen the missed calls piling up, but answering felt impossible.
what would you say?
that your father had called you ungrateful, a disappointment?
that the fight had ripped open old wounds?
instead, you let the tears come, silent sobs shaking your shoulders as you buried your face in the pillow. the room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of your bedside lamp, casting shadows over the scattered clothes on the floor—some from levi's last visit, when he'd snuck in after hours and left you breathless.
hours passed, or maybe it was minutes; time blurred in the haze of hurt. then, a knock at the front door downstairs, firm but not demanding. you ignored it, assuming it was the staff. but the knock came again, followed by the sound of the door opening—your father had given levi a key years ago, for 'emergencies.' footsteps on the stairs, deliberate and unhurried. your heart stuttered.
he was here.
"princess?" his voice, low and gravelly, filtered through the door.
you didn't answer, but the knob turned anyway, and there he was—levi ackerman, impeccably dressed in a tailored black suit that hugged his lean frame, tie slightly loosened as if he'd come straight from a meeting.
his gray eyes scanned the room, landing on you with that intensity that always made your stomach flip. concern flickered there, softening the hard lines of his face. he closed the door behind him, locking it with a quiet click.
"you haven't been answering," he said, crossing the room in three strides.
his presence filled the space, commanding yet gentle as he sat on the edge of the bed. you turned away, wiping at your tear-streaked cheeks, but he wasn't having it. strong hands—calloused from years of gripping the reins of power—gently grasped your shoulders, turning you to face him. "talk to me, baby. what's got my girl so upset?"
the dam broke then. words tumbled out in a rush—the fight, your father's harsh words, the way he dismissed your feelings like they were nothing. levi listened, his expression unchanging, but his thumb brushed away a fresh tear from your cheek.
"he's a fool," he murmured finally, voice like velvet over steel. "always has been when it comes to you. you're not a disappointment, sweetheart. you're perfect. my perfect little girl."
he pulled you into his lap then, your body molding against his as if it belonged there.
you were his lap doll, after all—small and soft against his solid warmth. his arms wrapped around you, one hand stroking your hair, the other rubbing soothing circles on your back. "daddy's here now," he whispered, lips brushing your temple. "no more tears."
it started slow, the way it always did with him.
a kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, trailing down to your lips. you melted into it, the salt of your tears mixing with the taste of him—clean, faintly minty, all levi. his hands roamed, slipping under your oversized t-shirt (one of his, stolen from a previous rendezvous) to caress the bare skin of your back.
"that's my good girl," he praised, voice husky. "so brave for telling 𝗆𝖾 everything. now, let me show you how much i love you."
he shifted, laying you back against the pillows with care, his body hovering over yours. those gray eyes drank you in, dark with hunger.
"look at you," he breathed, fingers tracing the hem of your shorts. "all sad and grumpy, but still so pretty for me. my pretty princess deserves to feel 𝘴𝘰 good." he tugged the shorts down, exposing your panties—frilly and pink, a gift from him. a low groan escaped him. "wearing this for daddy? 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬, 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒."
you nodded, biting your lip, the earlier hurt fading under his touch.
he kissed down your neck, nipping at your collarbone, hands pushing your shirt up to reveal your breasts. his mouth latched onto one nipple, sucking gently, tongue swirling as you arched into him.
"such sweet little tits," he murmured against your skin. "all mine." his free hand dipped lower, fingers teasing the edge of your panties before sliding them aside. you were already wet, slick from the comfort of his presence alone.
"𝗆𝗆...𝗅-𝗅𝖾𝗏𝗂..." you whimpered, and he shushed you softly.
"patience, princess. daddy's gonna make it all better." he kissed lower, over your stomach, settling between your thighs.
his breath ghosted over your pussy, making you shiver. "spread those pretty legs f'𝗆e."
you did, knees falling open, and he hummed approval. "good girl. look at this cute little cunt, all puffy and needy. been crying for daddy's attention?"
without another word, he dove in. his tongue licked a slow, flat stripe up your slit, from your entrance to your clit, and you gasped, fingers tangling in his hair.
he didn't rush—levi never did when it came to this. he savored you, lips sealing around your clit to suckle gently, tongue flicking in precise circles. "tastes like heaven," he growled, the vibration sending sparks through you. "my sweet girl's pussy is the best thing i've ever had."
you moaned, hips bucking, but he pinned you down with one hand on your thigh, the other slipping two fingers inside you. they curled immediately, stroking that spot that made stars burst behind your eyelids.
"that's it, baby. let daddy eat this pretty pussy." his words were muffled against you, but they hit like fire, praise wrapping around the pleasure.
he worked you methodically, tongue lapping at your folds, dipping into your entrance before returning to your clit.
his fingers pumped in and out, slick sounds filling the room as your arousal coated his hand. "so wet for me already. listen to that—your little cunt's sucking daddy's fingers right in. such a greedy girl." you were close, the coil tightening fast, and he knew it. he added a third finger, stretching you, the burn delicious as he scissored them.
"come on, princess. give daddy your first one. i want to feel you squeeze around me." his mouth sucked harder, tongue relentless, and you shattered. the orgasm crashed over you, walls clenching around his fingers as you cried out, tears pricking your eyes again—but these were from bliss, not pain. "yes, fuck, that's my good girl. coming so pretty for daddy. look at you, crying from how good it feels."
he didn't stop. as you trembled through the aftershocks, he licked you clean, gentle laps soothing your oversensitive nerves before building you up again. "one's not enough for my baby. you need more. daddy's gonna give you everything."
he withdrew his fingers, only to push in the fourth, your pussy stretching around the thickness. it burned, but in the best way, full and claimed. "take it all, sweetheart. you're doing so well. such a tight little hole, made for daddy's fingers."
with four fingers buried deep, he curled them again, thrusting harder now, his thumb circling your clit. his mouth returned, tongue plunging into you alongside his fingers—no, wait, he pulled back to watch, eyes locked on where he was fucking you open. "god, look at that. your pussy's swallowing me up. so sloppy, dripping all over my hand. you're perfect, baby. daddy's so proud."
the praise fueled you, another orgasm building quicker this time. you were sobbing now, overwhelmed, tears streaming down your cheeks as pleasure bordered on too much. "daddy, please—it's too much," you gasped, but he shook his head.
"no, princess. you can take it. cry for me, let it out. daddy loves when you cry from cumming." his pace quickened, fingers pistoning in and out, the wet squelch obscene. his tongue joined again, lapping at your clit in time with his thrusts. "come again. flood daddy's mouth. i want to taste every drop."
you did, harder than the first, body convulsing as waves of ecstasy ripped through you. your pussy gushed around his fingers, squirting lightly onto his palm, and he groaned in approval. "fuck yes, that's it. my little girl’s squirting for daddy. so beautiful, so messy. you're doing amazing."
he kept going, drawing out the orgasm until you were a writhing, tear-soaked mess.
but levi wasn't done. he slowed only slightly, letting you catch your breath before ramping up again. "one more, baby. give daddy one more big one. you've been so strong, fighting with that idiot and still being my good girl."
his fingers twisted inside you, hitting every nerve, while his tongue sucked your clit like it was his lifeline. the overstimulation had you keening, hips grinding against his face desperately.
tears poured freely now, mixing with the slick on your thighs. "daddy—levi—i can't—"
but you could, and you did.
the third orgasm built like a storm, crashing with a wail that echoed off the walls. your body seized, pussy clamping down so tight on his fingers he had to work to pull them free, only to shove them back in. "yes. cry it out, princess. daddy's got you. such a perfect little cumslut for me. i love you 𝘴𝘰 much."
finally, he eased off, withdrawing his fingers with a wet '𝘱𝘰𝘱'.
he crawled up your body, kissing away your tears, his cock hard against your thigh but ignored for now—he was focused on you. "shh, baby. you're safe. 𝗂 love 𝗆𝗒 pretty girl more than anything." he held you close, petting your hair as you shuddered in his arms, the fight with your father a distant memory in the glow of his affection.
hours later, as you drifted off, surrounded by his warmth and the plushies he'd spoiled you with, you knew: levi was your real family, your secret world of love and pleasure.
zoro isn't one for soft cuddles right away; he collapses beside you, chest heaving from the workout of pounding into you relentlessly. once his breathing steadies, he pulls you against his scarred torso, one calloused hand tracing lazy circles on your back while he mutters gruff praises like "𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭." he fetches water or a cloth to clean you up, his touch surprisingly gentle as he wipes away the mess of cum dripping from your thighs, ensuring you're comfortable before dozing off with you tucked under his arm.
on himself, zoro obsesses over his abs—those chiseled ridges honed from endless training, perfect for you to grip while he thrusts deep. for you, it's your ass; he loves grabbing handfuls of it, spreading your cheeks to watch his thick cock slide in and out, spanking the flesh red before burying his face between your legs to lick your puckered hole until you're begging.
𝓒 ─ 𝗖𝗨𝗠: 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘶𝘮, 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺.
𝗓oro cums hard and copious, ropes of hot seed flooding your pussy or splattering across your tits after he pulls out mid-thrust. 𝗃e growls your name as he unloads, sometimes aiming for your mouth so you swallow every drop while he watches with hooded eyes. If he's feeling possessive, he'll smear it over your skin, marking you as his before fucking you again to push more inside.
𝖽eep down, 𝗓oro fantasizes about taking you in the midst of a sword fight—adrenaline pumping as he pins you against a mast, ripping your clothes off and slamming his cock into you while enemies scatter. 𝗁e keeps it hidden, but the thought makes his dick twitch during spars, leading to rough, impromptu sessions where he chokes you lightly, whispering how he'd claim you on the battlefield.
𝗂 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗓oro's no virgin; he's had his share of port-town flings, learning to wield his body like a blade—precise, powerful strokes that hit every spot. 𝗁e knows exactly how to angle his hips to grind against your clit while filling you, or use his tongue to flick your nipples until you're arching. 𝖾xperience has made him a master at drawing out orgasms, edging you until you shatter.
𝓕 ─ 𝗙𝗔𝗩𝗢𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗦𝗜𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡: 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨.
𝖽oggy style reigns supreme for 𝗓oro; he loves the control, gripping your hips to yank you back onto his cock with each brutal thrust, his balls slapping against your clit. 𝗂t lets him watch your ass bounce and reach around to rub your pussy, or lean over to bite your shoulder as he drives deeper.
𝗌erious as a duel—𝗓oro's all intense stares and low growls, no room for jokes when he's buried balls-deep, sweat dripping from his brow. 𝖻ut if you tease him mid-fuck, he might smirk and pin your wrists, thrusting harder as punishment, his rare laugh rumbling when you moan his name wrong in ecstasy.
𝗓oro's green hair is wild up top, but down below, he keeps his pubic hair trimmed short—practical for training and sex, not getting in the way as he spreads your legs. 𝗍he carpet matches: a neat patch of dark green framing his thick, veined cock, which he loves you stroking through the coarse strands before sucking him off. 𝘪 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘭 ;)
𝗂ntimacy for 𝗓oro is raw connection—eye contact locked as he slowly sinks into you, his forehead pressed to yours, breaths mingling. 𝗁e murmurs possessive words like "𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦" between kisses that bruise, his hands mapping your body like territory he's conquered, making the fuck feel like a vow sealed in sweat and cum.
𝓙 ─ 𝗝𝗔𝗖𝗞 𝗢𝗙𝗙: 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯.
𝗐hen alone on watch, 𝗓oro jerks off roughly, hand fisted around his cock as he imagines your tight heat clenching him. 𝗁e strokes fast, thumbing the head to mimic your tongue, grunting quietly until he shoots across his abs, wiping it off with a shirt before resuming his vigil—practical, no nonsense.
𝓚 ─ 𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗞: 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘴.
𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘨𝘦 with his bandanas: 𝗓oro ties your wrists with the green cloth, suspending you for his pleasure as he teases your entrance with his sword hilt before replacing it with his cock. 𝗁e thrives on the power play, spanking and edging until you're a whimpering mess, then rewarding you with a face-fuck that leaves you gagging on his load.
𝓛 ─ 𝗟𝗢𝗖𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡: 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘮𝘣𝘢𝘺𝘢𝘩.
𝗍he crow's nest on the 𝗌unny—high up, private, with the sea breeze cooling sweat-slicked skin as he bends you over the railing, fucking you from behind while the waves crash below. 𝗍he risk of being caught adds edge, his thrusts harder to muffle your cries against the wind.
𝗌eeing you spar or train ignites him; your sweat-glistened body moving with grace makes his cock harden instantly. 𝗁e drags you away post-session, pinning you down to lick the salt from your neck before slamming in, fueled by the shared warrior spirit turning primal.
𝓝 ─ 𝗡𝗢!: 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘰! 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯-𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘴!
𝗓oro draws the line at anything involving 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 pain without consent—he's all for rough play, but won't go beyond bruises from grips or bites. 𝗍urn-offs include whininess; he wants a partner who fights back, scratching his back as he rails you, matching his intensity.
𝗁e prefers receiving first: guiding your head down to take his cock deep, fingers tangled in your hair as you suck and swallow around him, his hips bucking until he floods your throat. 𝗍hen he repays with expert oral, tongue lashing your clit relentlessly, fingers curling inside to hit that spot while he growls vibrations against your folds.
𝓟 ─ 𝗣𝗔𝗖𝗘: 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩? 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭?
𝖿ast and rough dominates—𝗓oro fucks like he's conquering, hips snapping with sword-sharp precision, bed creaking under the force. 𝖻ut he can slow to sensual grinds, rolling deep to savor your walls fluttering, building tension until he snaps back to pounding you into oblivion.
𝓠 ─ 𝗤𝗨𝗜𝗖𝗞𝗜𝗘: 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬?
𝗊uickies are his jam during downtime; he loves the urgency, shoving you into a storage room to hike up your skirt and thrust in raw, hand over your mouth to stifle moans as he chases release in minutes. 𝗁e feels invigorated after, smirking at the cum trickling down your leg as you rejoin the crew.
𝗓oro's all in for risks—public teasing under the table, his fingers dipping into your pussy during meals, or fucking with the door unlocked on the ship. 𝖾xperimentation? 𝗁e'll try anything once. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗂 𝗌𝖺𝗒 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜.
𝗂nsane stamina from training; 𝗓oro lasts ages, pounding through multiple orgasms for you before cumming himself. 𝗁e goes three, four rounds easy, recovering with a swig of sake, then flipping you over for more—your body limp and spent while he keeps driving in.
𝗇ot big on toys himself, but he'll use them on you—a vibrating hilt proxy for his swords, pressing it to your clit while he fucks your mouth. 𝗂f you bring one, he watches you ride it before replacing it with his cock, jealous of anything else filling you.
𝓤 ─ 𝗨𝗡𝗙𝗔𝗜𝗥: 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦.
𝗓oro teases mercilessly during foreplay, nipping your inner thighs without touching your core, or rubbing his cockhead along your slit without entering until you're clawing at him. 𝗂n bed, he edges you repeatedly, pulling out just as you near climax, grinning at your frustration before slamming back in.
𝗅ow and guttural—deep grunts and growls escape as he thrusts, voice rough like "𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬...𝘴𝘰 𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵." or your name snarled through clenched teeth. 𝗁e doesn't yell, but his heavy breathing and the wet slaps of skin amplify the intensity, making you louder in response.
𝓦 ─ 𝗪𝗜𝗟𝗗 𝗖𝗔𝗥𝗗: 𝘢 𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦.
𝗓oro has a secret scar-fetish; tracing your marks with his tongue before fucking you over them, or letting you bite new ones into his skin as he cums. 𝗂t bonds you in battle-worn intimacy, his cock twitching harder when you draw blood during a heated ride.
𝗎nder his haramaki, 𝗓oro packs a girthy 8-inch cock, veined and curved slightly upward for perfect 𝗀-spot hits, with a thick head that stretches you wide. 𝗁eavy balls hang low, slapping rhythmically, and his muscular thighs flex with each powerful drive.
𝓨 ─ 𝗬𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚: 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘹 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦?
𝗌ky-high; 𝗓oro's drive matches his ambition, craving you daily—waking hard and rutting into you from behind, or bending you over after dinner. 𝖽enial only builds it, leading to feral sessions where he takes you twice as hard to sate the ache.
𝓩 ─ 𝗭𝗭𝗭: 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴.
𝘻oro crashes fast post-climax, body spent like after a tough fight, arm slung over you possessively as he snores lightly. 𝘣ut he's a light sleeper, stirring if you shift, ready for round two if you whisper in his ear.
in the shimmering veil of eternal twilight that draped the divine realms, apollo, the god of light, prowled with a hunger that no amount of celestial glory could sate.
his silky hair cascaded like molten sunbeams, framing a face sculpted by arrogance and desire.
he was the epitome of divine perfection—cocky, radiant, untouchable.
yet beneath that flawless exterior burned an obsession that gnawed at him relentlessly.
you, the enigmatic goddess who had captured his every thought, were the one being who remained utterly indifferent to his charms. your disinterest only fueled his fixation, turning it into a feverish blaze that consumed him from within.
he had followed you here, to this secluded river hidden among the mist-shrouded groves of the upper heavens. the water sparkled like liquid diamonds under the faint glow of distant stars, fed by sacred springs that whispered secrets to the wind.
apollo concealed himself behind a cluster of luminous willows, their leaves shimmering with ethereal light. his heart, usually steady as the sun's path, pounded with anticipation.
he shouldn't be here, spying like some mortal thief, but the pull was irresistible. you were bathing, unaware, and the mere thought of witnessing your vulnerability made his skin prickle with heat.
the air was crisp, carrying the faint chill of the river's embrace. you stepped into the shallows first, your bare feet sinking into the pebbled bed.
water lapped at your ankles, then your calves, as you waded deeper.
apollo's breath hitched, his eyes locked on the graceful sway of your hips. you were a vision of otherworldly beauty—curves that rivaled the moon's gentle swells, skin glowing with an inner luminescence that rivaled his own light.
your hair, long and silken, tumbled down your back like a cascade of silk, untouched by anything unpleasant.
as the water rose to your waist, you dipped your hands in, splashing playfully. a soft laugh escaped your lips, light and melodic, like chimes in a summer breeze.
that sound—it pierced apollo straight through the chest, stirring something primal and desperate within him.
he gripped the willow trunk tighter, his knuckles whitening.
why did you have to laugh like that?
so carefree, so utterly unaware of the torment you inflicted on him. his cock twitched in his robes, already half-hard from the mere sight of you.
you moved further in, the current swirling around your thighs. with a sigh of contentment, you submerged yourself up to your shoulders, letting the cold water cascade over your head. droplets clung to your lashes as you emerged, shaking out your hair.
strands plastered to your bare chest, dark and wet, framing the swell of your breasts. apollo's gaze darkened, his pulse thundering in his ears.
there they were—your nipples, pert and hardened by the chill, peaking like forbidden jewels under the water's surface. they stood erect, begging for attention he could only dream of giving.
he imagined his mouth on them, tongue flicking over the tight buds, sucking until you gasped, until that indifference cracked and you begged for more.
his hand drifted lower, pressing against the growing bulge in his attire. the fabric strained against his arousal, his massive cock throbbing with need.
you turned slightly, arching your back as you rinsed your arms, and apollo swallowed hard.
the way the water trailed down your collarbone, over the curve of your breasts, made his mouth water.
he pictured himself there, stepping into the river, pulling you against him. his hands would cup those full mounds, thumbs circling your stiffened nipples, pinching just hard enough to draw a moan from your lips.
you'd resist at first—always so uninterested, so cool—but he'd break through, his light flooding your senses until you melted into him.
your laughter rang out again, this time as you splashed water at a cluster of glowing fish darting near the surface. the sound was intoxicating, wrapping around apollo like silken chains.
he couldn't take it anymore. the sight of you—bare, glistening, those pretty little peaks begging to be touched—pushed him over the edge.
with a shuddering breath, he teleported away in a flash of golden light, reappearing in the opulent sanctuary of his private chambers.
his domain was a palace of sun-kissed marble and velvet drapes, bathed in the perpetual warmth of his own radiance.
but now, it felt stifling, the air thick with his pent-up lust.
apollo collapsed onto his grand bed, the silken sheets rumpling beneath him. his robes fell away with a thought, leaving him exposed, his body a masterpiece of divine musculature—broad shoulders, chiseled abs, and between his thighs, his enormous cock standing rigid and veined, the head already glistening with precum.
he wrapped his hand around the thick shaft, groaning at the contact. it was massive, pulsing hotly in his grip, far too big for mortal hands, but his own sufficed for now.
eyes fluttering shut, he let the fantasies consume him. you were there, in his mind's eye, still in the river, but now he was with you.
he stroked slowly at first, base to tip, imagining your wet body pressed against his. "mngh...[name]..." he whimpered, voice breaking into a pathetic whine. his hips bucked involuntarily, chasing the illusion.
in his fantasy, he pulled you from the water, your skin chilled and slick.
you'd shiver as he laid you on the riverbank, his mouth descending on those hardened nipples. he sucked hard, teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, while his free hand— the one not stroking his cock—slid between your thighs.
you'd be soaked, not just from the river, but from desire he forced upon you. his fingers would part your folds, dipping into your tight pussy, feeling you clench around him.
apollo moaned louder, his strokes quickening, fist pumping his length with desperate urgency.
"fuck, you're so perfect," he gasped, hazy grin spreading across his lips. his other hand fondled his heavy balls, rolling them as he pictured burying his face between your legs. tongue lashing at your clit, lapping up your juices while you threaded fingers through hishair, pulling him closer despite yourself.
he'd eat you out relentlessly, until your laughter turned to cries, your body arching off the ground. the thought made his cock leak more, slicking his palm as he jerked faster.
he flipped onto his stomach in the fantasy, positioning you on all fours. apollo's breath came in ragged pants now, his massive cock sliding through his tight fist, veins bulging.
he imagined mounting you from behind, gripping your hips, slamming his thick length into your dripping cunt.
you'd gasp at the stretch, so full, so overwhelmed by his size. he'd thrust deep, balls slapping against your ass, grunting with each powerful drive. "take it, my goddess," he'd growl, but in reality, it came out as a whimper, his body trembling on the bed.
the obsession twisted his pleasure into something raw, humiliating.
he was apollo, the cocky sun god, reduced to this—panting and moaning like a lovesick fool over a woman who barely acknowledged him.
yet it only heightened the ecstasy. he envisioned flipping you over, pinning your wrists above your head, pounding into you.
your breasts bouncing with every brutal thrust, nipples still peaked and red from his earlier attentions. he'd kiss you then, claiming your mouth as fiercely as he claimed your body, swallowing your moans.
his strokes grew erratic, hand blurring over his shaft. precum dripped steadily, pooling on the sheets. in the haze, he saw you riding him, your wet hair clinging to your chest, swaying as you ground down on his cock.
you'd finally look at him with heat in your eyes, no more disinterest, just pure need.
he'd grip your ass, guiding you faster, feeling your pussy flutter around him. "cum for me,". he'd beg in the dream, and you would, walls milking him until he exploded inside you, filling you with his hot seed.
reality crashed back as his orgasm built, coiling tight in his core. apollo's moans turned high and pathetic, whimpers spilling from his lips as he chased release. "please… you… fuck, i need you…"
his hazy grin widened, eyes squeezed shut, lost in the vision of your body writhing beneath him. with a final, shuddering stroke, he came undone. ropes of thick cum shot from his cock, splattering across his abs and chest, his body convulsing with the force of it. he milked every drop, hand slowing to gentle squeezes, riding out the waves of bliss.
panting, apollo lay there, spent and sticky, the grin fading into a sated smile. but even in afterglow, the obsession lingered.
you'd laughed by the river, indifferent as ever, while he unraveled in secret.
tomorrow, he'd find a way to draw you closer—charm, persistence, whatever it took. for now, the fantasy sustained him, a light in the darkness of unrequited desire.
the apartment hummed with the soft whir of the ac unit fighting against the summer heat outside, but inside, the air felt heavier, thicker, as you hunched over your textbooks at the cramped kitchen table.
stacks of notes and highlighters cluttered the surface, your laptop screen glowing with practice problems that blurred together after hours of staring. tomorrow's test loomed like a storm cloud, and every wrong answer twisted your gut tighter.
you rubbed your eyes, frustration bubbling up as you glanced across the table at toji fushiguro, your older roommate who seemed immune to academic stress.
he sprawled in his chair, legs kicked out wide, one arm draped over the backrest like he was posing for some casual photoshoot. his black t-shirt clung to his broad shoulders and defined chest, the fabric stretched just enough to hint at the muscles underneath. dark hair tousled from running his fingers through it, and those piercing eyes flicked between your work and your face, a lazy smirk playing on his lips.
toji was the kind of guy who breezed through college courses—hell, he probably tutored professors on the side—while you scrambled to keep up. it pissed you off, but damn if it didn't make him intriguing.
"staring at that page won't make it solve itself," he drawled, his voice low and gravelly, cutting through the silence like a warm blade.
he leaned forward, elbows on the table, close enough that you caught the faint scent of his cologne mixed with something earthier, more masculine. his finger tapped your notebook, tracing the messy equation. "here, you're complicating it. break it down—x equals this, plug it in there. easy."
you sighed, chewing the end of your pen, the plastic bitter on your tongue. "says the genius who doesn't have to worry about failing. i swear, if i bomb this, i'm done."
he chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest, vibrating through the space between you. "failing? with me here? come on, kid. you're smarter than you think." his knee nudged yours under the table—accidental? no, the way he didn't move it back said otherwise. heat bloomed where your skin touched, and you shifted, trying to ignore the spark. but toji noticed, his smirk deepening. "or maybe you're distracted. biting that lip again. what's got you so wound up? the math… or something else?"
your cheeks flushed, and you ducked your head, pretending to focus on the problem. but he kept talking, his explanations laced with teasing edges, his hand brushing yours when he pointed out errors, lingering a beat too long. the room grew warmer, the clock ticking slower, until the studying felt like a pretense, a thin veil over the tension coiling in your belly.
"fuck, i can't concentrate," you finally groaned, tossing your pen down. your shoulders ached, neck stiff from hunching.
toji's eyes darkened, that cocky grin turning predatory. "then let's fix that. you need to unwind, loosen up." he pushed back from the table, standing to his full height—tall, imposing, all raw power. before you could blink, he was behind you, large hands settling on your shoulders, thumbs pressing into the knots with surprising gentleness at first, then firmer, working the tension free. you melted a little, a soft sigh escaping despite yourself.
"toji, this isn't—" your protest died as his fingers dug deeper, sending sparks down your spine. his breath fanned your ear, hot and close, lips grazing the sensitive skin there.
"isn't what? helping?" he murmured, voice dropping an octave. "relax, baby. let me take care of you." the words sent a jolt straight to your core, and when you twisted to look up at him, his gaze was molten, stripping you bare already.
"what if i make all that stress disappear?" he added, one hand sliding down your arm, calluses rough against your soft skin.
your pulse raced, mouth dry. "how?"
he didn't answer with words. instead, he hauled you up and over his shoulder in one fluid motion, your squeal echoing as he carried you down the hall to his room. the door slammed shut, and he lowered you onto the bed, the sheets cool against your heated skin. you bounced once, staring up at him as he loomed, shrugging off his shirt to reveal the scarred, tattooed expanse of his torso—hard abs, thick arms, every inch screaming dominance.
"studying's boring," he growled, crawling over you, knees bracketing your hips. "time for something better." his mouth claimed yours in a bruising kiss, tongue sweeping in to tangle with yours, demanding surrender. you arched into him, hands exploring the ridges of his back, nails scraping lightly. he rocked his hips, the thick ridge of his cock grinding against your thigh through his jeans, making you whimper into his mouth.
breaking the kiss, he stripped you efficiently—top gone, bra unhooked and flung away, exposing your breasts to the cool air. nipples pebbled instantly, and he groaned, palming one roughly while his other hand shoved your skirt and panties down your legs. the lace hit the floor, leaving your pussy bare, folds already slick and swollen from the buildup.
"shit, look at this," toji rasped, settling between your thighs, spreading them wide with his big hands. his eyes devoured you, thumb tracing your slit, collecting your wetness. "dripping for me already. been wet since i touched your shoulder, huh? naughty girl."
you nodded, breath hitching as he leaned in, inhaling deeply. "y-yeah… toji, please…"
"please what?" he teased, breath teasing your clit. "want my mouth on this sweet cunt? wanna feel my tongue buried in you?"
"yes—fuck, yes," you begged, hips lifting.
but he pulled back, flipping onto his back with a smirk. "not yet. come here. i want you sitting on my face. grind that pussy on my tongue till you can't think straight."
heart hammering, you obeyed, swinging a leg over him, knees on either side of his head. his hands gripped your thighs, pulling you down until your wet folds hovered just above his lips. the anticipation made you throb, arousal dripping onto his chin.
"that's my girl," he praised, voice husky. "so eager. lower—sit on it. smother me with this perfect pussy. don't hesitate, baby."
the praise ignited you, and you sank down, gasping as his mouth latched on immediately. his tongue was hot, flat and broad, licking a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, savoring every inch. you moaned, hands bracing on the headboard as he devoured you, lips sealing around your folds, sucking gently at first, then harder, drawing your clit between them.
"fuck, you taste like heaven," he mumbled against you, the vibrations making your toes curl. his tongue speared inside, thrusting deep, fucking your hole with wet, obscene sounds. you rocked forward, chasing the pressure, his nose nudging your clit perfectly with each grind.
toji's hands kneaded your ass, spreading your cheeks to let his tongue go deeper, curling against your walls, hitting that spot that made stars burst behind your eyelids. "ride me harder, baby. use my face like it's yours. i want you coming all over it—drench me."
you did, hips circling faster, the slick slide of his tongue driving you wild. he moaned into you, the sound raw and hungry, like your pussy was his favorite meal. one hand slipped between your legs from behind, two thick fingers pushing in alongside his tongue, stretching you, pumping in rhythm with his licks.
"oh god, yes!" you cried, back arching as pleasure coiled tight. his free hand reached up, pinching your nipple, twisting it just enough to sting sweetly, amplifying everything. you were soaked, his chin glistening, but he lapped it up greedily, humming approval.
the first orgasm crashed over you without warning—walls fluttering around his fingers, juices flooding his mouth as you screamed, thighs clamping his head. he didn't stop, sucking your clit through it, prolonging the waves until you shuddered, oversensitive.
"one," he counted, voice muffled, lips brushing your throbbing nub. "but we're not done. give me another. i can feel you clenching—want my tongue deeper?" without waiting, he flipped his tongue, plunging it back in, fucking you relentlessly while his thumb circled your clit in firm, steady strokes.
you whined, grinding down harder, the overstimulation building into something fiercer. his fingers joined again, three now, scissoring inside you, curling to rub that spongy spot over and over. "such a good slut for me," he growled, pulling back just to spit on your pussy, the wet glob mixing with your arousal before he dove back in, tongue lashing your clit.
tears streamed down your face from the intensity, but it felt too fucking good to stop. "toji, i—it's too much, gonna come again—" your words broke into a sob as the second climax hit, harder, your pussy gushing around his fingers, squirting lightly onto his tongue. he groaned, swallowing it down, face buried deeper, like he couldn't get enough.
"fuck yes, that's it...mmph, so pretty," he rasped, not letting you recover. his mouth worked overtime now, tongue flicking rapidly over your clit while his fingers thrust faster, hooking inside to hit your g-spot with brutal precision. one hand slapped your ass lightly, the sting making you clench harder around him.
you were lost, hips bucking wildly, chasing the edge again. "more—please, toji, don't stop! your tongue feels so good—fucking me so deep!" he obliged, adding a third finger—no, wait, he withdrew them to replace with his tongue, forcing it as far as it could go, wiggling it inside while his lips sucked your outer lips, pulling them taut.
the third orgasm built slow, torturous, every nerve alight. he sensed it, ramping up—fingers back in, twisting, his mouth vibrating with a constant hum against your clit. "come on, baby, soak my face again. i want it all—every drop. you're mine to eat out, aren't you? perfect, greedy pussy."
you shattered, the release explosive, squirting hard this time, hot streams coating his face, dripping down his neck and onto the sheets. he lapped at it frantically, moaning like a man possessed, tongue still thrusting through your spasms until you collapsed forward, trembling, utterly spent.
panting, he eased you off gently, rolling you to his side. his face was a mess—shiny with your cum, eyes wild and satisfied. he licked his lips, smirking. "three times. told you i'd make you forget everything. but look at you… still twitching for more."
you nodded weakly, pulling him close, tasting your essence on his kiss. his cock throbbed against your thigh, hard and leaking. "round two?" he whispered, hand sliding down to tease your soaked entrance.
you didn't know anything
just knew, that roommates don't do this. and no other man could make you orgasm like toji fucking fushiguro just did.
the soft glow of the bedside lamp casts warm shadows across the room, turning everything into a hazy dream. you've just gotten home from a long day, muscles aching, mind buzzing with the usual chaos of hero work. but keigo's waiting for you, that signature grin splitting his face as he lounges on the bed like he owns the place—which, in a way, he does, with how often he's here. his golden eyes light up the second you step through the door, and he's on his feet in an instant, wings rustling with barely contained excitement.
"baby, you won't believe what i got," he says, voice low and teasing, pulling a small, neatly wrapped box from behind his back. it's pink, of course—keigo's got a thing for the color, especially when it comes to you. you raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued, and he hands it over with a wink. "go on, open it. it's for you."
inside, nestled in tissue paper, is the cutest set of lingerie you've ever seen. tiny, delicate pieces in soft pink lace, barely there straps and cups that promise to hug your curves just right. it's feminine, frilly, the kind of thing that makes you feel like a goddamn treat. keigo watches you intently, biting his lip as you hold it up, his gaze already darkening with hunger.
"thought it'd look perfect on you," he murmurs, stepping closer, fingers brushing your arm. "wanna see?"
you don't need more convincing. the bathroom door clicks shut behind you, and minutes later, you're slipping back into the bedroom, the lace whispering against your skin. it's small, just like he said—riding up your hips, the bra cups cradling your breasts with a teasing lift, nipples already pebbling against the thin fabric from the cool air. keigo's breath hitches when he sees you, sitting up straighter, his sweatpants tenting obviously at the crotch.
"fuck, sweetheart," he groans, eyes raking over you like he's starving. "you're killing me. come here."
he pats the bed, and you saunter over, feeling his stare burn into every inch. but keigo's not done surprising you. from the nightstand, he grabs a can of whipped cream—real shit, the kind that comes out in fluffy swirls—and a jar of maraschino cherries, plus a shaker of colorful sprinkles. his sweet tooth is legendary; the man's got a weakness for anything sugary, and tonight, it seems, you're the dessert.
"got an idea," he says, voice husky, popping the lid on the whipped cream. "lie back for me? wanna make you even prettier."
you comply, stretching out on the sheets, heart pounding as he kneels between your legs. his hands are gentle at first, unhooking the bra with practiced ease, letting your breasts spill free. the air hits your skin, making your nipples tighten further, and keigo licks his lips, eyes fixed on them like they're the sweetest candy.
"so fucking perfect," he whispers, shaking the can. a cool burst of whipped cream lands on one nipple, then the other, swirling in creamy peaks that make you gasp at the chill. he adds a cherry to each, the red fruit perched atop the white foam like jewels, then scatters sprinkles over it all—pink and white ones, matching your lingerie. it's messy, obscene, and so goddamn hot, your core clenching at the sight.
keigo's breathing heavy now, his cock straining against his pants, but he doesn't touch himself. no, his focus is all on you, leaning down with a whimper already building in his throat. "gonna eat you up, baby. you look like a dream."
his mouth descends on your left breast first, hot and eager. lips wrap around the whipped cream-covered nipple, tongue flicking out to lap at the sweetness. he sucks hard, pulling the cream into his mouth with wet, slurping sounds, the cherry bumping against his teeth as he devours it whole. a low whine escapes him, vibrating against your skin, and you arch into it, fingers threading through his messy blond hair.
you murmur softly, encouraging him with a breathy sigh. "keep going, keigo. that feels good."
he moans around your nipple, the sound needy and desperate, his hips twitching involuntarily. more cream smears across your chest as he switches sides, latching onto the right one with even more fervor. his tongue swirls, cleaning every bit of whipped cream, chasing the sprinkles that stick to your skin. he whines louder, a high-pitched keen that sends heat pooling between your thighs, his free hand gripping your hip to steady himself.
"god, you taste amazing," he mumbles against you, voice muffled, popping the second cherry between his teeth before sucking your nipple deep into his mouth. he nibbles lightly, teeth grazing the sensitive bud, then soothes it with broad licks, lapping up the last traces of sweetness. his wings flutter behind him, feathers ruffling with each whimper, body trembling as he grinds subtly against the mattress.
you run your fingers through his hair, a quiet hum of approval escaping you. "yeah, just like that."
it keeps him going, his sucks turning sloppy, desperate. he alternates between breasts, mouth never leaving your skin, tongue flicking and circling your nipples until they're shiny and swollen from his attention. whipped cream dots his chin, sprinkles cling to his lips, but he doesn't care— he's lost in it, whimpering pathetically with every pull, every taste. "mmph, baby… so sweet… need more…"
he pulls back just enough to shake the can again, adding fresh swirls of cream to both nipples, the cold making you hiss and your buds peak even harder. he scatters more sprinkles, a few landing on the curve of your underbreast, and dives back in, starting over with renewed hunger. his tongue traces slow circles around the left areola first, teasing the edge before sealing his lips over the tip and sucking with a vacuum pull that has you moaning. the cherry juice mixes with the cream, dripping down your skin, and he chases it with flat laps, humming in delight.
you cup the back of his head, guiding him gently. "don't stop now."
his response is a broken whine, muffled as he switches to the right side, teeth nipping the cherry off before crunching it and swallowing, then focusing solely on the cream-slicked flesh. he sucks in rhythmic pulses, tongue pressing and releasing, building a pressure that radiates straight to your clit. his cock jumps in his pants, the outline clear and leaking, but he ignores it, thighs clenching as he rocks forward, chasing friction from nothing but the act.
you watch him, mesmerized by the flush creeping up his neck, the way his golden eyes flutter half-shut in ecstasy. a soft word slips from your lips. "you look good like this."
keigo's whines turn into soft sobs, his mouth working overtime now—sucking one nipple while his fingers pinch and roll the other, smearing the remnants of cream between thumb and forefinger. he pinches lightly at first, then harder, tugging the bud until it's elongated and aching, before leaning over to soothe it with his tongue. the dual attention has you squirming, pussy clenching around nothing, but you hold back, letting him build toward his peak.
you breathe out a simple encouragement. "feels amazing."
he keens at the sound, a sharp, needy vibration through your breast as he latches on harder, sucking with abandon. his hips buck erratically now, grinding against the bed in shallow thrusts, the wet spot on his sweatpants growing darker. feathers from his wings shed slightly, scattering pink-tinted ones across the sheets from the intensity, and his free hand claws at your thigh, nails digging in as he fights the building pressure.
you add a quiet nudge. "keep sucking, keigo."
his body tenses, mouth sealed tight over your left nipple as he sucks in long, drawn-out pulls, tongue lashing the tip relentlessly. the other breast he kneads roughly, fingers twisting and pulling, mimicking his mouth's rhythm. whines pour from him nonstop now, high and frantic, his cock pulsing visibly without a single touch. you feel the tremor start in his shoulders, spreading down as his hips stutter.
you stroke his scalp lightly. "let it happen."
his frame convulses with a guttural cry rips from his throat, muffled against your skin. hot spurts fill his pants, soaking through his boxers. he doesn't stop sucking, riding the orgasm with desperate laps and whines, body shaking violently between your legs. it drags on, longer than usual, his untouched cock spilling everything from the sheer overload of sensation.
finally, the tremors ease, and he slumps against you, mouth still gently nursing your nipple like he can't bear to let go. you stroke his back, feeling the quiver of his wings, as he catches his breath. cream and sprinkles are everywhere—smeared on his face, dotted on your chest—but it's all worth it for the blissed-out look in his eyes when he finally lifts his head.
"holy shit," he pants, collapsing beside you with a lazy grin, voice rough from all the moaning. "that was… intense. you okay, baby?"
you smile, tracing a finger through the mess on your chest, your own arousal simmering but satisfied by his unraveling. "more than okay. but next time, maybe we add some ice cream too?"
his eyes light up again, that sweet tooth already plotting. "deal."
ᝰ.ᐟ | he ain't your boyfriend. you ain't his girlfriend. you're friends with benefits. yet still, he doesn't take shit when he sees you flirting with another guy. ⤷ 𝗡𝗦𝗙𝗪!! 𝗠𝗗𝗡𝗜!!
the bass from the speakers thumps through the crowded living room of the frat house, bodies packed tight like sardines in a can, sweat and cheap beer mixing in the air.
you're laughing, tossing your hair back as you lean into this guy—some tall, smirking junior with a backwards cap and a cocky grin. his hand brushes your arm, lingering a second too long, and you let it, because why not?
it's a party, and megumi's not your boyfriend. you're just friends with benefits, fucking when the mood strikes, no strings, no jealousy.
or so you thought.
across the room, megumi's eyes narrow, his jaw clenching so hard you can see the muscle twitch from here.
he's nursing a red solo cup, but he hasn't taken a sip since he spotted you with that asshole. his dark hair falls over his forehead, shadowing the fury building in his gaze.
you're flirting, giggling at some dumb joke, and it hits him like a punch to the gut—why the fuck does he care?
you're not his.
but watching that guy's fingers trail down your side, inching toward your hip, something snaps.
before you can even register the shadow looming over you, megumi's there, his hand clamping down on your wrist like a vice.
"what the fuck do you think you're doing?" he growls, voice low and venomous, ignoring the guy's confused protest.
you blink up at him, confusion flickering across your face. "megumi? what—"
he doesn't let you finish. in one swift motion, he hauls you up and over his shoulder, your skirt riding up dangerously as your ass is on full display to the room.
hoots and whistles erupt from the crowd, but megumi doesn't give a shit. he storms out, your fists pounding weakly against his back. "put me down! you're being ridiculous!"
"shut your fucking mouth," he snarls, his free hand smacking your thigh hard enough to sting, the impact sending a jolt straight to your core despite the anger bubbling in your chest.
the walk to his dorm is a blur—cool night air hitting your exposed skin, his shoulder digging into your stomach, your heart racing with a mix of fear and that twisted thrill you always get around him when he's like this.
he kicks the door open, dumps you unceremoniously onto the floor of his dimly lit room, and slams it shut, the lock clicking with finality. you're scrambling to your feet, skirt twisted, hair a mess. "megumi, what the hell? we're not— you can't just—"
his eyes are wild, pupils blown with rage and something darker, hungrier.
he grabs your chin roughly, forcing you to look at him. "you think you can slut around like that? flirt with every dickhead who looks at you? you're mine to fuck, you hear me? not his. not anyone's."
his words are a slap, humiliating, but your pussy clenches traitorously at the possessiveness dripping from them.
you try to pull away, but he's faster, stronger, shoving you back onto the bed. his hands are everywhere—yanking at your top, buttons popping as he rips it open, exposing your bra. "no, wait—megumi, stop!"
confusion wars with the heat building between your legs, but he ignores it, his fingers digging into your skin as he tears the skirt down your hips, the fabric shredding slightly under his aggression.
"confused? you weren't confused when you were letting that prick touch you." he sneers, flipping you onto your stomach and pinning you with his weight. his knee forces your thighs apart, and then—rip. your panties are gone, shredded like paper, the cool air hitting your bare pussy and ass.
you gasp, squirming, but he slaps your ass hard, the crack echoing in the room. "stay still, you worthless slut. this is what you get for acting like a desperate whore."
tears prick at your eyes from the sting, but there's a wetness growing between your folds, betraying you.
he drags you up by your hair, the pull sharp and painful, making you yelp as he ties your wrists to the headboard with his belt—rough leather biting into your skin, stretching you out spread-eagle.
your bra's next, snapped open and tossed aside, tits spilling free. he steps back, admiring his work, his cock straining against his jeans. "look at you. tied up like the fucktoy you are. crying already? pathetic."
you tug at the restraints, wrists burning, body exposed and vulnerable. "megumi, please... untie me."
your voice wavers, but he just laughs, a cruel, bitter sound, rummaging in his drawer for something. when he turns back, there's a thick dildo in his hand—black, veined, bigger than you've seen him use before. your eyes widen. "what are you—"
"shut up." he climbs onto the bed, forcing your legs wider, his palm cracking against your inner thigh, leaving a red mark.
"you like flirting? like teasing cocks? i'll give you two to fill that greedy little body." he spits on the dildo, smearing it roughly over your tight asshole, no prep, no mercy. you whimper, clenching instinctively, but he slaps your pussy—hard—making you jolt and cry out. "relax, bitch. or it'll hurt more."
the pressure builds as he pushes the tip in, slow but unrelenting, stretching your ass around the intrusion.
it burns, tears spilling down your cheeks as you sob, "it hurts! megumi, stop—ahh!" but he shoves it deeper, twisting it until it's buried to the hilt, your hole clenching around the base.
"there. now you're stuffed like the dirty slut you are." humiliation floods you, cheeks burning as he watches you sob, your body trembling.
he doesn't give you time to adjust. his jeans are unzipped, cock springing free—thick, hard, veins pulsing with his anger. he lines up with your pussy, slick despite the pain, and slams in without warning.
you scream, the double stretch overwhelming, pussy and ass filled to bursting. "fuck, you're tight like this. taking it in both holes like a proper whore." he growls, hips snapping forward brutally, each thrust jolting the dildo deeper into your ass.
tears stream down your face, sobs wracking your body as pleasure-pain mixes, your walls fluttering around him. "megumi—too much—please!" but he grabs your hair, yanking your head back, forcing you to arch as he pounds harder.
"please what? please fuck you harder? that's all you're good for, isn't it? crying on my cock while i use you." his free hand comes down on your tit, slapping the soft flesh until it's red, nipple hardening under the abuse.
you sob louder, mascara running, but your hips buck up involuntarily, chasing the brutal rhythm. the dildo grinds against his cock through the thin wall, double penetration making every nerve scream.
"look at you, sobbing like a little bitch. bet that guy at the party couldn't make you cry like this. couldn't fill both of your tight little holes." he humiliates, voice dripping venom, pulling your hair tighter until your scalp screams.
𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘱—his palm meets your ass again, over the dildo, the vibration sending shocks through you. "say it. say you're my fucktoy."
you choke on a sob, pleasure coiling tight despite the degradation. "i—i'm your fucktoy!" the words tumble out, broken, and he laughs, thrusting deeper, hitting that spot that makes stars burst behind your eyes.
"good girl. now take it like the cumdump you are." he releases your hair only to slap your face lightly—not enough to bruise, but enough to sting, tears flowing freer.
dacryphilia fuels him, his cock twitching at the sight of your wet cheeks, ruined makeup. "crying so pretty for me. bet your pussy's soaking from the pain, huh? filthy little masochist."
he angles his hips, pounding relentlessly, the bed creaking under the force. your sobs turn to moans, pleasure crashing over you in waves, body betraying your confusion.
the bondage holds you open, helpless, as he uses you—impact play leaving welts on your thighs, ass, tits. another hair pull, forcing your gaze to his. "watch me fuck you. see how i own this pussy."
minutes stretch into what feels like hours, his stamina endless in his rage. he slaps your clit, making you scream, walls clamping down. "gonna cum? beg for it, slut."
you do, sobbing, "please—let me cum—megumi!"
he denies you twice, edging you cruelly, before growling, "cum on my cock, you worthless hole."
your orgasm rips through you, violent, pussy squirting around him as you wail, tears soaking the pillow.
he doesn't stop, fucking through it, chasing his own release. "fuck—take my cum. breed that sloppy cunt." with a final, brutal thrust, he buries deep, hot spurts filling you, creampie overflowing as he grinds against your cervix.
he collapses over you, panting, cock still twitching inside. you sob softly, aftershocks trembling through you, body marked and spent.
he pulls out slowly, the dildo shifting, cum leaking from your abused pussy. "mine," he mutters, untying you with surprisingly gentle hands, though his eyes still burn. "don't fucking forget it."
but as he wipes your tears, a flicker of something softer crosses his face—regret? possession?
you don't know, too wrecked to care, curling into him as exhaustion claims you.
uhh yeah. well that was something, heh...
anyways, have a good day and don't forget to take care of yourself!! love y'all 🫰🫰
ᯓ★ | sisters!boyfriend!sukuna who couldn't resist a huge errection when he saw you for the first time. pretty, innocent and so easy to corrupt.
ᯓ★ | sisters!boyfriend!sukuna who would shamlessly touch you in risky places, not caring if he gets caught. slipping his hand under your skirt in the kitchen? done it. palming your breasts while your sister does her makeup? yup, done it. you name it, he's already got to that.
ᯓ★ | sisters!boyfriend!sukuna who's fingered your sopping wet cunt under the blanket while watching a movie with your sister, pressing the blanket to your lips to muffle your angelic little whimpers
ᯓ★ | sisters!boyfriend!sukuna who was the one to claim your virginity. fucking you dumb in the washing closet, only to accidently get your blood on your sister's shirt. let's just say, ryomen took care of it already.
ᯓ★ | sisters!boyfriend!sukuna who loves to sneak into your room in the middle of the night. often waking you up from your slumber with his tongue fucking in-an-out of your tight hole.
ᯓ★ | sisters!boyfriend!sukuna who loves marking your pretty ass. letting handprint after handprint burn into the flesh until you're sobbing and shaking.
ᯓ★ | sister's boyfriend sukuna who always sneaks some gummy worms for you whenever he and your sister go to the convenience store to get food for "date night".
ᯓ★ | sisters!boyfriend!sukuna is a perv, who sneakily steals your panties before leaving your room in the middle of the night, enjoying your confused face while you take out your laundry.
ᯓ★ | sisters!boyfriend!sukuna who loves filming you choke on his cock, drool running down your pretty lips and tears stinging at the corner of your eyes as you try to fully take his 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 length. he'll add it to a folder on his phone, filled with various pics of 𝘺𝘰𝘶.
ᯓ★ | sisters!boyfriend!sukuna who loves stuffing you full with whatever possible. pegging you while brutally fucking into your tiny little cunt? oh, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦.
ᯓ★ | sisters!boyfriend!sukuna who always orders various dildos and vibrators for you. often custom made, or even randomly picked. the bastard loves watching your horrified face as you inspect one of the new toys he'd anonymously sent you.
ᯓ★ | sisters!boyfriend!sukuna who loves tying you to the bed. rope biting into your soft skin and thighs parted as far as possible as he pounds into you ruthlessly, overstimulating you and not stopping till you're crying and your used little pussy is practically oozing with his cum.
ᯓ★ | sisters!boyfriend!sukuna who's accidently moaned your name while having sex with your sister 𝘸𝘢𝘺 too many times. but like the little manipulator he is, he'll make sure your sister suspects nothing.
ᯓ★ | sisters!boyfriend!sukuna who loves making you cry while he uses your cunt like he needs, rubbing your clit relentlessly till it's swollen and red, and youe face is stained with tears and snot.
ᯓ★ | sisters!boyfriend!sukuna who'll always run you a warm bath after fucking you tired, always pressing an uncharacteristically tender kiss to your forehead before slipping back out of your room.
ᯓ★ | sisters!boyfriend!sukuna who'd practically kill any guy coming near you. some rando coming over for a school project? mysteriously changed schools the very same week. drunk guy hitting on you at a party your sister threw? almost drowned in the pool.
ᯓ★ | sisters!boyfriend!sukuna who'd spoil you rotten with fancy lingerie. making sure to take tons of pics before practically 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 the fabric while fucking you.
ᯓ★ | sisters!boyfriend!sukuna who already has a plan how to break-up with your sister. the only thing stopping him is the danger that he'd destroy your relationship with her. who would imagine, the egoistic 𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘬𝘶𝘯𝘢 actually caring about the consequences of his actions for once.
he doesn't know everything. just knows, that you belong 𝗍𝗈 𝘩𝘪𝘮.
