Hey, guys! It’s been a while, I know, and I’m super sorry for the radio silence. Things were bad for a while there and then they were looking better only to go back downhill again, so the last year and a half has been quite the rollercoaster ride, haha. I’m sure no one really cares about all that though, so I’ll jump straight to the important part.
I’ve officially decided to get back into writing, or I’m going to try to anyway, but every time I thought about coming back to this blog it filled me with a lot of anxiety. Not only because I pretty much up and left without a word, but also due to the fact that this page has quite a large following (by my standards). I wasn’t sure if I could take that kind of pressure when I’m just starting to get myself into gear again. Things have been hard for me and I miss writing a lot, so I didn’t want this to become something else that was also hard for me.
With that in mind, I decided to start fresh by making a new blog. I’m not going to delete this one, this page will stay up as long as tumblr doesn’t randomly nuke it, and I will also continue to post on the same AO3 as before which means you don’t have to follow me over to the new blog if you don’t want to. I just figured I’d give anyone who was still interested a heads up but I’m not even sure how many of you are still active anymore. There’s every possibility I might be speaking into the void right now, and that’s okay too. I appreciate everyone’s support and I hope you’re all doing well, wherever you are! 💖
Here’s a handy dandy link for anyone who might want to check it out. Also, it didn’t feel right coming back empty handed so I have already posted a 1000 word Suguru x reader drabble that I started working on shortly before I fell off. The page is pretty empty right this moment, but hopefully not for too much longer! (btw I also made a twitter for shit posting/spitballing if that’s more your speed, link can be found in the carrd)
Warnings: porn with plot, a smidge of canon typical violence, blatant female reader, alien/human relationship, alien sexuality, oral (male receiving), vaginal sex, squirting
A/N: A lot of words just to say you get fucked by the grumpy alien. ✊😔
♥♥♥♥
A slow, savory inhale pulls the wafting steam deep into your lungs where you hold it for a long moment and then breathe out with a heavy sigh. Naturally formed hotsprings really were the best. You could feel the tension slowly leaving your body and the ache of bruises starting to fade, leaving you feeling altogether rejuvenated and fresh. Your own personalized slice of heaven.
It was lucky that you and Piccolo had discovered this little outcrop in the mountain before he completely destroyed the place which was unavoidable once he set his sights on a particular area to train in. You were just happy to enjoy it for as long as you were able to, thankful for the chance to simply relax. Despite his penchant for being so tough on you, as was his prerogative as your mentor, he often showed a surprising level of understanding for your limitations and the need for your body to properly rest so it hardly came as a surprise that he would choose to indulge you like this. Of course that just meant he’d be that much more demanding of you come morning but it was a small price you were willing to pay in return for this nice long soak.
Tipping your head back, you peer over your shoulder at the dense thicket of bamboo shooting up out of the ground behind you. Through the gaps in the stalks you can make out the stark white of his cloak sitting stationary on the other side of the foliage and the flicker of a fire he’d started that casts everything in its peripheral in a warm, comforting glow. It was unexpectedly nice being able to share such a benign, uneventful experience with him, particularly when most of your time spent together saw Piccolo pounding you into the dirt with a tightly clenched fist, but it still felt like something was off. This estranged distance he always kept you at was as alienating as ever, an ironic facet of your relationship with the man who was rather evidently not of this world, and yet you had no idea how to bridge that gap no matter how you wracked your brain for the answer. After months spent training under his rigorous tutelage you’d thought for sure he would have started warming up to you by now, if he was ever going to at all.
“Why don’t you join me? There’s plenty of room for the two of us!” You pointedly call out to him, already knowing full well the answer you would receive long before he actually scoffs at the suggestion.
“That won't be necessary. Just enjoy your bath while you can.”
The underlying threat in his tone does not escape your notice and you sink further down into the water, trying not to pout. If anyone could stand to relax a little bit it was him. But not once since you’d met Piccolo had he truly lowered his guard around you, and it was frustrating much the same way a hangnail is. So persistently annoying that you can’t help but pick at it which only makes it hurt even worse, thus creating a vicious cycle that keeps you coming back for more punishment in the form of aggressively barked out insults and overzealous sparring that pushes you right to the edge of your lifespan. Some days it felt like he was really trying to kill you.
You’re pretty sure he doesn’t actually hate you though, otherwise he wouldn’t tolerate your presence in as much as he does. But you aren’t sure why he would bother with it in the first place if you were such an obvious inconvenience, either. Surely he had better things he could be doing besides terrorizing you day in and day out under the guise of teaching you martial arts.
Once upon a time that explanation may have stood up under the lens of scrutiny, back when he’d first found you alone and half dead on your feet in the desert after narrowly escaping a band of thieves who’d taken you hostage. They’d foolishly thought they could hold you for ransom, wholeheartedly believing your little village would cough up their asking price until they just … didn’t.
It hardly came as a surprise to you, an orphan who didn’t exactly have a place to call her own, but your kidnappers hadn’t much appreciated being snubbed like that. You’d endured the physical backlash of their frustration for hours before then being subjected to their blatant discussion of how much they could sell you for in a blackmarket scheme meant to recoup some of their losses. Eventually, once they were all fast asleep and snoring, you managed to slip out into the dead of night but the damage had already been done. You’d felt indescribably weak and helpless back then, so it made sense why you would jump at the chance to follow Piccolo and learn from him. Not that he’d outright offered it so much as you’d doggedly trailed in the wake of his shadow until he decided he may as well teach you a thing or two, since you were there, but still.
The situation now is a bit different though. While you couldn’t beat him no matter how hard you tried, or even really put a dent in him for that matter, you were much stronger than when you’d started. He was a surprisingly good teacher for as merciless as he could be, and even the way he never seemed to hesitate before slamming his fist into you despite being a woman half his size wasn’t quite enough to change your estimation of him. It was a hard lesson to learn even when he used only a very small fraction of his immeasurable strength but you’d grown into a rather competent fighter because of it, and the way he always aggressively patched you up afterwards, faintly growling the whole time, helped your opinion quite a bit too.
And yet there was only so much you could glean from him when your body was so regretfully human and his was not. More and more it had become apparent that you’d already reached the upper limits of your potential and he was just wasting his time with it now. Even so he hadn’t sent you away yet but, rather, continued to train you rain or shine as if you would keep getting stronger the more you kept at it instead of perpetually stalling out like you were so obviously doing. It just didn’t make sense.
If he wouldn't allow you any closer to him than you already were then why even keep you around? You’d always known a day would come when Piccolo would decide you’d learned everything you could and leave you to your own devices but somehow that hadn’t happened yet despite all the obvious signs it should have. What did he even expect to get out of this anymore?
“Hey.”
You jolt so hard a surprised squeak forces its way out of your mouth and you whip your head around, eyebrows lifting when you find Piccolo standing some few yards away. Not that you’d expected to find anyone else of course, but he’d very nearly scared the crap out of you.
Even recognizing that it’s him doesn’t immediately calm your anxious pulse though, because he looks somehow even more demonic than usual with the cast of the low set sun throwing half of him in vibrant shades of relief, oranges and pinks and just a pinch of violet to make his skin look like it was glowing, while the other half of him was marred with creeping shadow. It’s in many ways surreal, and the preternaturally incandescent quality of his sharp focused eyes only seems to highlight how diabolical his features really are. Between that and the devilishly pointed ears, you would almost think he was some kind of messenger from hell come to collect on your soul.
Worryingly enough, you weren’t so sure you would have had a problem with that.
“W - what is it?” You stammer, visibly flustered by his sudden appearance, but he merely scoffs at your obvious disquiet.
“Relax. I just wanted to give you this before you put on your old clothes again.” He holds his hand up to show you what he’s referring to and genuine surprise washes over you when you realize he’s holding a folded up a gi in the same deep shade of purple as the one he’s wearing. Even with the near blinding kaleidoscope of ultraviolet light raining down on the side of the mountain it’s true color is unmistakable but Piccolo doesn’t give you enough time to question it.
Carelessly, he tosses the humble pile of clothing down at his feet before moving to walk away again, and you panic.
“Wait!” You yelp as you scramble up out of the hotspring, your nudity a none concern at that moment. He’d already seen you in various stages of undress while tending to the wounds he’d inflicted on you anyway and there were much more important things to be worried about than your modesty, first among them being this unprecedented gift from him.
Toeing the line of disbelief, you can hardly take your eyes off it while you crawl across the grass, fumbling over yourself the whole time. You are, however, distantly aware of Piccolo pausing mid turn to watch your immodest display with near palpable disinterest. He’d never been particularly impressed with your feminine charms and this assuredly wasn’t going to help your case with him, but you didn’t really care. The weight of this particular gesture is not the least bit lost on you as you settle on your knees and reverently pick up the top half of the uniform, holding it aloft so you can really look at it.
Sure enough, it’s almost identical to his. Just a little smaller, more tapered in the waist so it doesn’t leave a bunch of extra fabric for you to wrestle with but roomier in the chest to accommodate your breasts. There was even a short loop of fabric meant to go around your neck, mirroring the one on his cloak, and you were completely dumbfounded by the whole thing. To think he would not only present you with a set of matching clothes but also take into consideration the slight differences in a garment meant for you versus one for another man … It was something far more thoughtful than you would have ever dared to expect from him. Least of all not with the way he always treated you as if you were just a smaller, less muscularly dense boy. There have been plenty of instances in the past where you weren’t even sure if he knew you were a girl at all, and now this?
You genuinely don’t know what to make of it and you turn wide eyes up at Piccolo in question, but he doesn’t even try to conceal the intense glower he’s got fixed on you. Wholly unimpressed and not at all amused by your nakedness which, at the reminder, causes a dull shudder to race up your spine. Now hyper aware of your wet nipples growing stiff in the cool evening air, you awkwardly hold the gi closer without touching it to skin, hoping it would block at least some of the breeze while you try to wrap your head around the current predicament.
“Is this really for me?” You finally dare to ask in a tiny, faltering voice.
“I said it was, didn’t I?”
“Well, yeah, but …” Hesitating, you look at the garment again and then back up at him. “Why are you giving this to me now? I’ve been wearing the same clothes since we met.”
Piccolo narrows his eyes at you, downturned mouth somehow twitching into an even deeper scowl. “Yes, and you should take the hint. Maybe I’m just tired of smelling you day after day, did you ever think of that?”
“Wha - hey! That’s not very nice!” You squawk, feeling your cheeks grow unbearably hot. “I wash them as much as I can out in the middle of nowhere but you’re such a slave driver - -“
“Then problem solved. You can start fresh now.” Dismissively, he starts to turn again but you aren’t about to let him get away that easily.
“Hold on, Piccolo-sama! Is that really the reason you’re giving this to me? Just because my old clothes are a little grimy?”
He goes statue still for a moment, apparently mulling that over, and you reel against the surge of hope that suddenly wells within your chest to bombard you with all kinds of quaint little thoughts. The very notion that he might actually like you on some level and this was the only way he knew how to show it is almost too much for you to bear. Maybe this was the real reason he hadn’t disappeared without a trace yet. Maybe this was why he -
Piccolo suddenly turns on you with a low snarl that makes your heart stutter and you quickly drop the gi so you can put your hands up in surrender when he menacingly skulks towards you. That doesn’t stop his advance on you though, and you brace for the worst as he reaches out with a sharp nailed hand.
“That’s right, and don’t confuse it. You stink so I gave you new clothes. End of story.”
You draw a sharp breath to respond but then his palm smacks against the back of your neck and he squeezes down, effortlessly plucking you right up off the ground as if you were nothing more than a misbehaved cat. The entire thing happens in under ten seconds, not even giving you enough time to properly react as he spins on his heel and chucks you back into the hotspring without an ounce of sympathy to show for it.
“Now finish getting cleaned up so we can eat!”
That’s the last thing you make out before you hit the water with a deafening splash, everything going distant and muddied as you're pulled towards the bottom of the naturally formed pool. You’re so stunned that you just let it happen, trying desperately to make sense of your whirling thoughts while bubbles rush up past your face and the heat from the water seeps into your skin again. But then you realize you aren’t prepared to just blithely accept that answer at face value and you kick your legs out, furiously swimming back up to the top with every intention of grilling Piccolo until he tells you what you want to hear.
Breaching the surface with a sharp gulp of air, you quickly reach up to brush the water off your face as you look around for him but he’s already gone. That shouldn’t really come as a surprise and yet it still annoys you a great deal, so you doggy paddle over to the edge of the spring where you pull yourself up on your elbows and squint through the bamboo thatch, catching a glimpse of his white cloak sitting next to the fire once again.
“This conversation isn’t over, Piccolo-sama!”
“Yes, it is.” He calls back, making you sputter in disbelief. The nerve of this man!
“Fine!” Grumbling under your breath, you decide to concede for the time being and sink back down into the water so you can plot out your next move. There was no way you’d let it go that easily. “We’ll see about that …”
“I can still hear you.”
You let out a little yip and screw your eyes shut as you submerge your head under the water again, trying to convince yourself that your face was so warm because of the heat and not from your fluster. Damn him. Now you were even more confused than when you’d started.
Worse, however, is the pitter patter of hope in your chest that you still can’t quite stamp down no matter how hard you try to will it away. You felt like an idiot for a variety of reasons and the most critical-hit-inducing one was easily this adrenaline fueled excitement you’d felt at the first possible sign of affection from him. Were you really that miserable or was it just that he rarely ever showed you any sort of preferential treatment making it seem like some sort of meaningfully grand display in comparison? Regardless, you weren’t sure how to proceed from here. You wanted him to tell you the truth, yes. Might have even been willing to fight for it if need be.
But to say Piccolo would make your life a veritable nightmare with tomorrow’s training should you piss him off enough is the very definition of an understatement. He was plenty tough on you as it was and you would have liked to avoid making it any worse on yourself, if at all possible. Purposely going out of your way to poke the bear any further was just asking him to make you carry a boulder that was double your size up the side of the mountain. Again.
You really hated when he made you do that.
Almost an hour later finds you wandering into the clearing just on the other side of the bamboo thicket, still fiddling with the sash around your waist in shy uncertainty. Only a small portion of that time had been used to ponder how you would make Piccolo fess up and tell you the truth behind his gift giving mood while the vast majority had been spent fussing over the gi. You’d systematically gone through all five stages of grief while donning it, starting off strong with a healthy dose of denial that this couldn’t have meant what you hoped thought it did. Somewhere in the midst of that you’d inexplicably managed to convince yourself that it was the opposite, that this was actually his way of saying it was time for you to move on, and you’d gotten mad.
After that it hadn’t taken long for you to start mentally working out how best to bargain with him, wondering if he might let you stay at his side a bit longer if you just returned the gi to him. If you promised to work harder - hard enough to surpass this ceiling you’d hit. And then you’d gotten sad, because of course none of that would matter if he’d already made up his mind. It’s not as if Piccolo was particularly well known for being easily swayed or even all that nice once you got right down to it. If anything your begging would probably just further vindicate his decision to send you packing and with that you’d finally reached acceptance. If this was really supposed to be his way of promoting you to a level beyond need of his guidance then so be it. There wasn’t much of anything you could do to actually change that or convince him otherwise.
Now, you find yourself nervously peering over at where he’s sat cross legged in front of the small fire, braced for his formal dismissal, but to your surprise he simply regards you back in silent contemplation. You aren’t sure what else to do so you just stand there feeling like a profound idiot until he finally looks away with a near silent scoff to retrieve the small gourd of water he always kept on his person. He was completely brushing you off.
Shoulders drooping, you resignedly shuffle over to take your spot on the opposite side of the softly cackling flame, as was your routine with him. You’re relatively certain it must be coming and yet, even long after you’ve settled into place, he still doesn’t speak up, and it leaves you at a complete and utter loss.
This resounding silence from him should have been commonplace by now but the tension weighing heavy against your chest makes it feel that much more awkward than usual. What was once comfortable and unassuming suddenly seemed like a judgemental guillotine waiting to come down on your neck, and you weren’t sure how much more of it you could stand. Why wouldn’t he just say something?
“Piccolo-sama - -“
“Eat.”
Blinking owlishly, you drop your gaze to the humble little campfire he’d erected and you notice the lightly smoking fish lined up neatly in front of you for the first time since you’d sat down. They looked like they were dangerously close to being over cooked, no doubt a direct result of you taking so long to finish up your bath, so you reach out to grab one by the stick it had been skewered with before it can burn anymore than it already was. Mechanically, you bring it up to blow on the meat, thinking it was a bit unfair of him to treat this like any other evening if he really planned to send you off on your own after this. Just didn’t seem right by your estimation, especially not when coupled with charred trout.
Two bites into the scorched meal you decide you aren’t hungry enough to continue, so you set aside what’s left of it and expectantly peer over at him again. Piccolo’s brooding attention is steadfastly fixed on the fire though, his gaze almost thoughtfully introspective, and you can’t help but wonder if he just isn’t sure how to break the news. But that didn’t sound like him at all - a direct contrast, actually - and this is what finally makes you second guess yourself. Maybe he really had given you the gi just because.
“Piccolo-sama,” you try again in a voice that is slightly more sure of itself now. “Can I ask you something?”
“Hm.” At one point you might have questioned if that noncommittal grunt was one of acquiescence or denial, but you knew him well enough by now to recognize it for what it really is.
Smiling to yourself even when you try not to, you drop your eyes back down to your half eaten fish as you idly twirl it back and forth by the stick it was impaled on. If you’d really gotten worked up over nothing you were going to feel like a downright fool. “I was just wondering … did you really not give me this for any particular reason?”
He scoffs. “I already told you. I’ve had my fill of your stench, isn’t that enough?”
“But besides that.”
A pause while he thinks that over, brow furrowed with obvious consternation at this particular line of questioning. You really couldn’t tell if he was simply annoyed with your insistent pestering on the matter or if he was trying to figure out what could possibly be going through your head to make you keep asking. Then, at last, he lifts his eyes to look at you. “Do I need any other reason?”
“I guess not.” You relent with a small frown. “But surely you know what something like this usually means, don't you?”
“Enlighten me.”
You struggle not to avert your eyes from his when, inevitably, your nerve suddenly falters and then collapses in on itself. You’d been so sure of the outcome you hadn’t even stopped to consider that he might have a different understanding of what such a gesture traditionally signifies and you weren’t prepared to explain it to him. You hadn’t thought you would have to.
“Well,” you speak slowly in a misguided attempt to stall for more time, trying to get your thoughts in order. “I’m no expert myself, but don’t martial arts masters typically give their students a uniform after they’ve earned the right to them? It’s not something given without any purpose behind it. Or are things different where you’re from?”
For an uncomfortably long moment Piccolo just stares at you over the flickering flame, gradually making you feel more and more like an idiot as the seconds continue to tick by. Could it really be you were the one mistaken here and not the other way around?
“Is that not what I’m doing?” He finally rumbles.
“Huh?”
“Acknowledging you. As my student.”
“Oh. Yeah. I mean, I guess that’s true, but … why are you only just now doing that? You’ve been training me for almost eight months. Did you really not consider yourself my teacher this whole time?”
Another bout of silent staring ensues, this one lasting only a short while before he emits a low growl of warning. “What is it that you want me to say? Spit it out before I lose my patience.”
It isn’t hard to see he’s not that far off so you straighten your back and round your shoulders, valiantly mustering every ounce of courage you might possess for this hairy standoff. It certainly doesn’t help that your guts nervously quake at the mere thought of confronting him like this but you’d just have to power through it.
Because for as much as you liked Piccolo, trusted him far beyond any measure you’ve ever felt towards another human, there was simply no denying that he could be a rather scary fellow at times. And not just due to his hard, alien features or the monstrous strength he called his own, nor was it even the aggressive way he always spoke to you. What really made him so intimidating was that you wanted to earn his approval above all else. Wanted him to like you, and in sometimes not so innocent ways to boot, as if that wasn’t already embarrassing enough.
But nothing in his face or even his body language ever provided you with any real clues, and you had no idea how to actually accomplish that. It was impossible to know for sure if you were ever getting any warmer or colder while you blindly felt around in the dark, searching for something that may not even exist in the first place, with perpetually groping hands. Even now you have no guarantee you weren’t about to step into a veritable landmine that would promptly blow up right in your face, but all you can really do is take a swing and hope for the best. Maybe if you were lucky this wouldn’t backfire too badly.
Resolute in this decision, you draw an even breath to steady yourself before speaking again. “I’m sorry for beating around the bush like this, Piccolo-sama. I know you don’t like that.”
He offers a quiet grunt in agreement, assuring you that, if nothing else, you were at least headed in the right direction of getting a straight answer out of him. That was probably as good a sign as any.
“I’ll just come out and say it then. The truth is, I’m not sure what something like this is supposed to mean coming from you. I thought I was already your student considering how long you’ve been teaching me martial arts but since you never gave me a uniform I just figured it wasn’t something you were going to do anyway. But now that you have given me one, I … I’m scared that means you’re going to send me off on my own and if acknowledging my progress means I won’t be able to stay with you anymore I’ll gladly give it back.”
You mean that from the bottom of your heart and the slight tremble in your voice would seem to attest to that, but he doesn’t give you much by way of a reaction. He doesn’t even appear to blink over the long stretch that follows, interspersed only by the gentle hiss of smoldering wood and the distant chirp of crickets, which once again leaves you lost in the dark, wondering at his thoughts. And Piccolo’s steady gaze is as unreadable as ever, his expression no more pinched than it usually is, so you haven’t the slightest idea what might come out of his mouth next.
A reassuring heart to heart was probably out of the question, seeing as he’d never bothered to engage in one with you before now. Hadn’t so much as toed the line even when you broke down crying, sobbing over how helpless you’d felt at the hands of those bandits not long after running into him. He’d merely snapped at you to get it together and fix the problem yourself instead of whining about it which wasn’t exactly the sort of reaction you’d expected at the time, given the circumstances, but one you’d grown happily accustomed to since then.
Honestly, you half expect him to fall back on that in the here and now, given that it was his usual reaction at the first sign of an emotional outburst from you, but still. That didn’t seem quite right either.
This situation was inherently different in that you weren’t upset about something you had any real control over. Your total lack of internal power, the struggle to find your own two feet in addition to your sense of self in this vast world and even the indescribable frustration you’d felt every time he’d mercilessly smacked you into the dirt. Those were all things you could take hold of and control, harnessing them towards your own personal betterment and your drive. Piccolo deciding to wipe his hands of you, on the other hand, wasn’t something you had any power over.
Not when it was ultimately his choice to make, and that terrified you precisely because it went against everything he’d ever taught you about fighting for your own sake, regardless of the odds. It was funny, almost, when he could so easily be classified as the greatest hurdle of them all and you knew damn well you’d neve beat him no matter how long you kept at it.
So then what did this power he’d relentlessly drilled into you even amount to in the end? If you weren’t strong enough to fight for your place beside him what was the point?
Finally, after what seems like an eternity spent hanging on the edge of some bottomless abyss, Piccolo slowly blinks his eyes in such a pointed, contemptible manner that you wince before he actually draws breath to respond.
“Are you a complete idiot?”
You outright sputter. “I’m sorry?”
“I’m asking if you’ve got rocks for brains, woman. Or did all those blows to the head finally knock something loose in there?”
“I … I don’t think so - -“
“Then where did you get such a stupid idea from? Huh?” He demands, his voice dropping to a dangerously low vibration that makes your skin prickle even with the fire standing guard between the two of you, keeping watch.
“Uh,” Horribly flustered now, you scramble to find an answer to that. “W - well, you know … there’s only so much I can learn from you, right? I’m just human. It doesn’t make sense for you to keep me around indefinitely, does it? Not if I won’t get any stronger …”
A long beat passes between the two of you, terse and discomforting in equal measure, then he pushes up to his feet with a snarl and a dramatic flutter of his cape. “Ridiculous.”
Eyes widening when he turns as if to leave, you impulsively rock forward with an outstretched hand. “Piccolo-sama - -“
“Enough! I refuse to entertain this insipid conversation any longer. If you want to leave you’re free to do so but you were never my prisoner to keep or dismiss.”
“Wait, that’s not - -“
He’s suddenly gone. Poof. Just like that to leave the space he’d once occupied so resoundingly empty it’s as if he’d never even existed in the first place. A figment of your imagination and nothing more.
You sit frozen in place for a prolonged moment, too stunned to react, before eventually dropping your raised hand to your lap with a frustrated sigh. “That isn’t what I meant.”
The relative silence of night is, predictably, the only forthcoming response you get.
Still, you defensively draw in on yourself and bunch your shoulders up towards your ears, fighting to keep it together just the same as if he’d verbally snapped at you again. You didn’t know what else to do. It was impossible to find him once he ran off like that - something which didn’t normally bother you past a mild annoyance at having no clue where he’d gone, what he was doing. Yet in this particular instance it was undeniably, unequivocally painful when you had no idea if he was even going to come back at all.
That hadn’t been a real concern up until now, not since you’d grown accustomed to his elusive nature and the frequency with which he liked to go somewhere quiet to meditate. But Piccolo had always returned to you without fail though. Whether it was mere hours or half a day later he’d show up, no prior warning and just as undetectable as any soft footed feline until he deigned to make his presence known. Would this be the same as every other time or had you really just seen the last of him?
Where would you even go if he never came back to collect you? What would you do?
Those thoughts plague your anxiety stricken mind for the hours-long vigil you keep post at, optimistically waiting on him even when the flame eventually burns itself out and dims to a mere glow of red hot embers. Still, you wait and still, he does not materialize from the murky night. Dauntless though, you fight sleep for as long as you’re physically able to, telling yourself ‘any minute now’ too often to count, before at last succumbing to the fatigue and worry a small eternity later.
Issuing a silent prayer into the universe, begging for him to be there when you wake, you curl up next to what was left of the fire where you proceed to drift off almost as soon as your head hits the grass. You were simply far too exhausted to hold out any longer, and your last few moments of consciousness are spent hoping destiny or fate, or whatever it was that had brought you two together, grants your wish.
You really had no idea what you would do otherwise.
Some indeterminable amount of time later, you stir.
Issuing a groggy little sound, you crack your eyes open and peer around at the dark shadows looming up around you. But Piccolo’s familiar silhouette is nowhere to be found, the small clearing just as empty as when you’d fallen asleep. Numbly, you turn your attention towards the small pile of burnt wood and thoughtfully regard it as if you would find your answer within its charred ashes. The notion that you’d chased him away rather than the other way around was too much for you to bear, and you quickly decide to go back to sleep. It seemed only a few hours had passed which was not so strange for him, after all. There was still a possibility he could come back.
With a tired huff, you snuggle deeper into the grass as you bring a hand up to tug on the blanket you were covered with and further cocoon yourself in it. The mountain chill was not so bad like this, although you probably would have been even better off with the fire still going. Regardless, you were comfortable enough to make do so it doesn’t take long for your emotionally taxed mind to start drifting off again.
That is until you realize you hadn’t gone to sleep with a blanket, and your eyes snap open so abruptly your vision takes a moment to catch up. Confusion runs rampant through your head as you surreptitiously glance down at what you were wrapped in but that doesn’t solve the mystery so much as it adds to it. What was all this white fabric?
Frowning, you push up on your elbow and peel the sheet back to really examine it. A dark mass just at your peripheral promptly distracts you, however, and you drag your gaze around with a slow turn of your head.
You’re so discombobulated by the whole thing that you don’t immediately recognize Piccolo’s bulky form but then his telltale shoulder pads and the jut of pointed ears register, and everything suddenly clicks into place. He’d sat down with his back facing you, so close you were even faintly aware of the body heat coming off of him despite the cold, prickly condensation creeping along the ground. You must have reached around and grabbed his long furling cloak in your sleep then, or maybe he’d purposely thrown it back over you.
Either way, you hesitate to even breathe.
“Piccolo-sama?” You finally squeak.
“Hm.”
A little surprised to find him awake, you turn over and sluggishly drag yourself up beside him so you can tip your face towards his expectantly. His eyes are shut though, the ever present furrow of his prominent brow as near enough to being at ease as he seemed capable of, indicating that he was indeed at rest. Not to say he really seemed all that relaxed with his arms crossed over his chest and his legs folded, the very image of a grumpy statue, but it brings a hint of a smile to your mouth anyway. Had you ever harbored any doubts regarding his out-of-this-world origin, scenes such as this one would have long since dispelled them.
“I didn’t realize it was you at first. Thank you for sharing your cloak with me.”
A long, terse beat of quiet passes through clearing.
“It got colder than I expected it to.” He finally murmurs. “Winter must be fast approaching this area. We’ll need to find somewhere warmer soon.”
Your mouth parts in genuine surprise.
Then, so violently you’re almost positive it’s going to burst right out of you, your heart wildly jackhammers against the interior of your ribcage abruptly enough that it almost sends you reeling. ‘We’? That was no slip of the tongue.
Piccolo simply wasn’t the type to misspeak like that. He meant what he said, and he said what he meant right down to each and every single heated insult he’d ever thrown at you, and you can’t quite keep the grin off your face now. And how could you as you pull yourself even closer to him so you can rest your cheek on the firm plush of his bent thigh, looking up at him adoringly the whole time. That he allows it with neither a flinch of disdain nor a low sound of warning for you to watch yourself sends a pleasant rush of warmth racing through you to settle somewhere at the base of your spine, warming you from the inside out. He really had come back the same as ever.
“Where do you think we should go?” You ask softly. “A tropical island, maybe?”
He snorts, still without looking at you. “I was thinking something much more mild. Your new gi won’t hold up very long in that kind of climate.”
“Meanie.”
“It’s the truth.”
Still quiet falls over the mountainside again while you voraciously study him, noting with relief that nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. His demeanor, his body language, even the tone of his voice. It was exactly the same as it's always been, and it was unexpectedly reassuring given how little these things actually gave away in terms of his inner workings. You still had no idea what he was thinking, what his true motivations were, but there was undeniable peace to be found in this knowledge.
Nothing’s changed between the two of you. At least not yet it hasn’t.
Content to leave it at that - no, grateful to leave it at that, you snuggle further into his leg and settle in to get comfortable. You had every intention of enjoying your closeness with him for as long as he was willing to permit it. This sort of physical contact between you and Piccolo wasn’t exactly unheard of but it also didn’t happen all that often. Only once in a blue moon, and yet you cherished these rare moments perhaps most of all because of it. The smell of him was particularly intoxicating for as strange as it is, earthen and woodsy, and clean, and it’s enough to have you dozing again in an alarmingly short amount of time.
If you could just stay here with him like this for the rest of eternity, you would have no complaints.
“Will you answer me something?”
Drawn from the warm embrace of sleep yet again, you stir awake and tiredly blink up at him. “Hm?”
“Why did it upset you so much that I might send you away? I’d think you would be tired of me by now.”
“Not at all. I like being with you, Piccolo-sama.”
“Why?”
You mull that over for a moment while your fingers idly toy with the fabric of his pants, decidedly wide awake now. It was understandable that he should question your reasons for wanting to stay with him. He wasn’t exactly nice to you, in the traditional, polite sense, so it was a bit of a stretch to believe that the benefits of his hellish training regimen were the sole factors at play here. Even you couldn’t quite convince yourself that that was the only thing keeping you around, but did you dare say the rest out loud? Could you even risk it after your honesty had chased him away earlier?
Ultimately you really don’t know what to say, torn in either direction, so you finally settle on an ambiguous response of “because I like you.”
A faint grunt of annoyance precedes his eyes opening to send you a sharp look, and you reflexively grasp at his pant leg a little tighter. “What does that mean, woman? I don’t understand these silly word games you humans insist on playing.”
Realizing he really has no idea what you’re getting at, you hastily wrack your brain for an answer to that. Regretfully, all you manage to draw is one big blank.
It’s hardly any wonder though. How could you even possibly begin to describe romantic or sexual interest to an alien who evidently had no concept of the notion, or at least not in the same way you did? Even a textbook definition would no doubt spiral into a much deeper discussion involving semantics and hypotheticals, the influence of hormones and dopamine on the brain's functions which you were hardly qualified to talk about at length. All you really knew were the bits and pieces you’d picked up through osmosis in the orphanage's humble library when you were younger, but most of it had gone out the window in the years since then. You’d had much more important things to worry about like surviving your day to day to retain such frivolous information, though it certainly would have come in handy now.
Even worse, however, was the thought that he still might not understand what you were talking about even if you could go into an in-depth explanation. Did Piccolo even experience emotions the same way you did? Your history with him would seem to suggest no but, you try to convince yourself, there was every possibility you just hadn’t discovered the right way to appeal to them yet. He was relatively humanoid in appearance, from the composition of his body to the distribution of his muscle mass, his limbs, so then did that in turn mean …
You very nearly slap yourself for even thinking it. There’s no way you were that brave or that stupid but, to your growing surprise, it’s as if the thought sprouts root the second it crosses your mind and you can’t quite seem to shake it off all the way off after that. It was such a ridiculous idea too, one you wouldn’t have been able to put into words any more than you could the hypothetical theories involving love chemicals and brain signals to explain attraction to another person. Still, you didn’t exactly have a back up option. You didn’t even have an ace hiding up your sleeve for just such an occasion, and you helplessly flounder for a moment. Did you really dare do something so inherently risky? Could you even go through with it now that you’d been presented the opportunity? You were interested in him as more than just a mentor, yes, but what would the cost be if you admitted that?
“Do you really want to know?”
He faintly growls at that. “I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.”
You still hesitate, frantically weighing your odds before finally deciding that it would either have to be this or an incomprehensibly awkward explanation that was just as likely to piss him off as anything else would. The odds weren’t great, but they were something.
Even if it was only a slim possibility you found yourself willing to take it over the alternative any day, so you cautiously peel your hand off his thigh and reach across his lap. He watches you do it with a hawkish intensity that almost makes you stop but you press on, fearing his reaction yet knowing that there would be no going back once Pandora’s box had already been pried open. You also knew he expected an answer, a satisfactory one, and with no other choice in sight, you tentatively place your hand across the front of his pants.
Piccolo’s reaction is almost imperceptible, just a slight twitch around the corners of his eyes, but yours is much more pronounced in the form of your brows shooting straight up to your hairline while your mouth parts in abject shock. Not only was there a very prominent weight under your palm but it was big. Not massive or unwieldy, per se, yet certainly more than you’d expected to find. Honestly, you hadn’t even been sure if you would find anything at all.
“What are you doing?” He asks, low and unamused.
It’s enough to snap you out of it though, and you rapidly blink away the confusion in an attempt to reorient yourself. “I like you.” You say it again, emphasizing your point with a gentle squeeze around his girth. God, he felt like he was thick enough to make grasping him a two handed job.
“Am I supposed to know what that has to do with this?”
You let out a flustered little huff. He certainly wasn’t making this any easier on you, was he? “I’m well aware you aren’t human but how can you be so dense … haven’t you picked up on anything in all the time you’ve been here on earth? What do you think it means when I touch you like this?”
He seems to think about that, the furrow along his browline slowly deepening when you offer him another deliberate squeeze, this one for his benefit as much as yours.
“You want to mate with me.”
It’s a statement, not a question, and your eyes immediately widen to the size of dinner plates. “Wha - hold on, that’s - -“
You cut yourself off with a half strangled choking sound when his glare intensifies, cutting you straight to the bone. It quickly occurs to you that this was likely the best explanation you were going to get out of this, so you’d just have to see it through to the end now. Trying to give it any further nuance would just complicate things.
“Yeah, I do.” You relent with a stilted sigh. “I’ve wanted to for a while now, if I’m being honest.”
“You’re an even greater idiot than I thought then. My kind can’t reproduce with yours.”
You frown. Forget that that wasn’t even what you’d meant, there was no way you could pretend like you hadn’t heard him. “Why is that?”
Piccolo scoffs as if you’ve just asked the silliest question he’s ever heard. “Our bodies aren’t compatible for reproduction. My method is completely different from yours.”
Not so sure you believe that, you give the girth in his pants another pointed tug. “Then what is this for?”
He seriously regards you for a prolonged moment, altogether unperturbed by the contact of your hand against his genitals, which you find exceptionally odd. You’d thought for sure this was any man’s greatest weakness. His built in Achilles' heel which held sway over the higher functioning mind more often than not, but apparently you’d been wrong about that. Or, more precisely, you were wrong for assuming Piccolo would behave like a man just because he looked like one.
“It’s just a vestigial left over.” He says at last. “We used to mate similarly to humans but that was a long time ago. We’ve since adapted the ability to reproduce independently, without a partner. Even if that weren’t the case though we still wouldn’t be compatible.”
“Why?”
“We birth eggs.”
You have no idea how to react to that so you just gape at him, and his mouth immediately pulls into a bemused smirk.
“You’re surprised.”
“A little.” You admit in a small voice. “But I don’t really mind. We could still do it just for fun …”
Slowly, Piccolo’s mouth settles back into its customary frown, studying you for another moment longer before he finally deigns to speak again. “What is the point of mating if not to reproduce?”
“Oh, come on. Doesn’t it feel good at least?”
“I wouldn’t know, I’ve never - -“ He abruptly stops himself short when you reach up to tug at the sash around his waist, attentively watching but making no move to stop you. His lack of protest is emboldening though, and you push up on your elbow so you can reach him a little bit easier.
It was probably silly but you had a hard time believing his anatomy would be so similar to a humans and even perform the same function at one time but not possess any of the sensitive, pleasure inducing nerve endings to make the experience an enjoyable one. Maybe he just had no previous experience and masturbation wasn’t something he felt naturally inclined to do. That would make a certain amount of sense given the way he seemed to associate the act of sex - or what constituted for it in his race - as solely procreative in nature but still. More curious than anything now, you simply had to get to the bottom of this great mystery.
And he allows it, possibly hinting at his own interest in finding out what would excite you so much, so it is with a great deal of anticipation that you work the band of fabric loose until you can pull it from around his waist. Without the sash, it’s relatively easy to nudge the top of his pants down even when he makes no move to help you, the sound of rustling fabric loud in the otherwise still night. His folded legs quickly prove themselves an impediment though and you straighten the rest of the way up with a click of your tongue, sitting beside him now so you can use both hands for this.
Grasping the bunched fabric with one, you carefully slip the other into his pants and your cheeks burn red hot when your fingers tentatively skirt across the ridged planes of his abdomen. It’s the same as the rest of him, equally hairless and lacking in imperfections, but it gradually becomes softer the further down you go. That firm musculature gives way to it, and your heart wildly pounds in your ears when you find the base of him just a short moment later.
You swallow your nerves as you take hold of him and gently pull up, tugging the front of his pants further down at the same time. Even having the girthy weight of him in your hand is not enough to fully prepare you for this moment though, and you suck in a sharp breath when Piccolo’s length finally materializes in plain sight. Not knowing what else to do now that you’ve gotten this far, you simply go stock still while holding on to it like an idiot as your brain desperately tries to catch up and actually process what it is you’re seeing.
He’s thick and moderately long, perfectly straight with a tapered tip that does not look at all dissimilar to that of a human males foreskin but you aren’t so sure his will retract the same way, appearing more or less permanently attached at just a glance. The ribbed bands that stretch across his forelimbs and abdomen are noticeably absent here, leaving his considerable cock as smooth as his chest. It’s a curious thing without any noticeable ridges or bumps, or even any veins pushing up against the skin, as if it were purposely streamlined for its purpose.
“Piccolo-sama …” You warble when you finally manage to find your voice again. “How did your people used to mate?”
“Hm? Through the throat.”
Ah. Well that would certainly explain it.
You can’t help feeling a little discouraged, knowing full well you wouldn’t be able to take him like that even in your wildest dreams, but then a thought suddenly occurs to you. If his cock was designed for shooting seed down the hosts gullet then did that in turn mean oral sex was the default standard? If that’s what his body was programmed to respond to then …
Drawing a steadying breath, you impulsively lean over his lap and take an experimental lick up the side of his cock. The taste of him is reminiscent of the way he smells, clean yet earthy at the same time, and not at all disagreeable. You don’t seem to get much of a reaction for your efforts though, not even a twitch of interest, so you do it again, this time dragging your tongue up to the seamless tip. It’s different from a humans in this regard too, as there are no prominent ridges or dips to signify a glans, making it all just one sinfully smooth appendage meant to slide into place as snuggly as possible.
You shudder faintly when you imagine how it would likely feel inside you, slipping and sliding through your guts with almost no resistance to show for it, but you force yourself to stay on track and focused. There was something you needed to see for yourself first, and the chances of you getting any further than this would depend entirely on whether or not you could elicit a reaction out of him. If Piccolo really didn’t experience physical pleasure in the way you did, or even similarly, then there was hardly any reason for him to stick his dick in you, was there?
Shooting a cautious glance up at his face, you give him a meaningful pull with an accompanying twist of your wrist to go with it, hoping to encourage a response out of him. “Does it feel good?”
“No.”
Disappointed, you turn your attention towards his cock again. Truly it didn’t seem to be getting any harder, but it also didn’t appear to flag or soften either. Was he just always like this? You were surprised you’d never noticed it pressing against the interior of his pants before now, if that was the case, though you supposed it probably wasn’t quite long enough for that. Not in his loose fitted, baggy pants.
“Do you want me to stop?”
A long pause.
“You can do as you wish.”
You steal another peak at him, undeniably surprised at his acquiescence, but he merely returns your wide eyed stare with his usual glower. It’s disconcerting in a way, that he should be so obviously unaffected by what you were doing to him and not at all what you would have expected but he didn’t seem opposed to it, or unwilling either.
Deciding to try again, you hunch over Piccolo’s lap and direct his cock to your mouth. Another kitten lick, this time to the meaty tip, rewards you with a fresh rush of that earthen flavor you’d tasted before. It was vaguely reminiscent of the forest after a rainstorm, all static and ozone, and just a hint of wet leaves, but undeniably pleasant in the way a warm cup of barley tea is. A far cry from the bitter salt of human precum, more savory, and you find that you rather like it as you take your time slowly swirling your tongue around the tapered head to get your fill.
Still, he doesn’t show much of a reaction to the ministrations of your mouth and it’s a struggle to just to come to terms with it. The notion that he might not even engage in sex the same way you do hadn’t so much as crossed your mind before this and now that you had the proof of it clutched in your hand you don’t know what to do. Evidently he’d been right to call you an idiot.
Frustration quickly gets the better of you, and you open your mouth wide to take him in as far as you can go. The functionality of his smooth tip makes itself immediately known when it slips easily into the back of your throat, nudging your tonsils, but you’re halted from pulling him in any farther when the rest of him proves too girthy for your neck to accommodate. You gag slightly around the intrusion, a tiny little hiccup that makes your shoulders jump, before settling in to work your mouth over the amount of him you can reach.
He lets you proceed in this manner for an extended period of time, no doubt listening to the increasingly desperate slurping noises coming from your mouth while you will him to feel something, anything, before suddenly shifting underneath you. You have but a split second of blinding hope that your efforts are paying off, that all he’d needed was just a bit of elbow grease to get his motor running, before his hand curls around the curve of your skull and you freeze.
“That’s enough.” He murmurs. “All you're doing is making a mess. It’s obscene at this point.”
Tears well in your eyes much too fast for you to stop them, and you slowly pull up with a faltering little sniffle. “I’m sorry, Piccolo-sama …”
Bringing his hand down, he brushes some of the hair from your face with a surprisingly gentle swipe of his fingers. “Why do you cry? Is something like this really that important to you?”
“No, but … I just wanted to make you feel good, that’s all.” So he’d like you. So he’d be soft with you. So he’d want to keep you around indefinitely, even if you wouldn’t get any stronger than you already were.
You can’t say that though and Piccolo falls silent for a moment, apparently mulling that over while you try to get your emotions under control. You didn’t even really understand it yourself. Surely it wasn’t normal to be so upset over something like this. And, more to the point, why were you even surprised when he’d never displayed any sort of baser urges in all the time you’d known him?
It didn’t make sense. None of this made any sense, and you felt silly for ever thinking your relationship with him, whatever it actually was, could be something more. He’d never shown any sort of interest in your body no matter what stages of undress he might have found you in. He never talked about past lovers or an interest in having one at all. Even just the telltale signs of a regular sex drive were completely absent so why on earth did you think this would be any different? Just because it was you and not someone else? That was a laugh, in retrospect.
The first tear finally overtakes your bottom lashes with that thought and it streaks a hot rivulet down your cheek, making you feel all the more foolish for it. You start to turn away from him in shame but, with an irritated click of his tongue, Piccolo suddenly grabs you around the neck and you choke in surprise.
“Stop that. Such an unnecessary overreaction … this is why you humans are nothing but a pain in the ass.”
Swallowing so hard you can feel your throat working under his palm, you tearfully acquiesce when he pushes you back. You think he just wanted you off of him, not that you could really fault him for that, but to your flabbergasted surprise he pointedly guides you further down, your spine folding under the pressure until you have no choice but to lay out in the grass beside him. You whimper faintly as you do it, feeling profoundly like a disobedient dog being put in place by its master, and that feeling only increases when he grabs your topmost shoulder and roughly shoves you over onto your back.
“Is this what you wanted?” Unceremoniously, he palms the swell of your tit with an aggressive squeeze and you jolt so hard you almost come right up off the ground. “Well?”
“P - P - Piccolo-sama!” Eyes comically wide, you stare up at his downturned face in flustered belief. He doesn’t seem to be at all dissuaded by your reaction though, and instead pinches down even harder, making you seethe and twist under his punishing attention. “T - too hard, Piccolo-sama! You’re being too rough!”
He immediately lets up on your breast, leaving you reeling and disoriented, but he doesn’t remove his hand all together. “Is this not what your men do to their women?”
Completely blindsided, you take a moment to catch your breath, still wincing at the lingering pain. The realization that he was trying to accommodate you, compromise and meet you somewhere in the middle, feels a bit like a smack to the face. This was the very last thing you’d expected him to do.
“It is,” you say at last, sending him another cautious glance. “But usually not so hard. It feels better if you’re gentle …”
“These are sensitive.” He muses thoughtfully, further acknowledging this with another squeeze that is far more tentative than the last. It sends a pleasant shudder rippling through you, making you relax into it with a stilted sigh.
You’re pleased to find that the contrast of this careful kneading is much more enjoyable and you push up into his hand with a subdued arch of your back, eager for more. “Yes, like that, Piccolo-sama. That feels better, but …” Hesitating, you reach up to place your hand on his wrist, torn between shoving him away or pulling him closer. “But you don’t need to do this if you don’t want to. It doesn’t make sense to keep going if you won’t get anything out of it too.”
“Who’s to say I won’t?”
You do a double take. “Huh?”
“You’re a damn idiot.” He practically snarls. “Just because I don’t experience physical pleasure the same way you do that doesn’t mean I can’t watch you enjoy it. Or do you want me to stop?”
You’re so caught off guard by that question you don’t know what to say or what to do. Don’t even really know what to think anymore. But then he starts to withdraw his hand at the uncertainty he sees in your face, and you scramble to grab onto his arm more securely, using both hands now. “Wait! That’s not what I meant! If you want to keep going I really don’t mind …”
Piccolo barks out a humorless laugh, dark amusement flickering behind his eyes. “Don’t mind it, huh?”
“W - well … if I’m being honest, I’d like that a lot. I just don’t want you to force yourself, that’s all. I don’t want to make this weird.”
“You say that now, after you already had your mouth on my body? You’re even more foolish than I thought, woman.”
Drawing a clipped, mildly bothered breath, Piccolo carefully closes his longer fingers around the meat of your tit again, squeezing until it’s just this side of painful. Your breath hitches in response but you make no move to protest or squirm away, trusting him to know when to stop. You’d already made it clear how much is too much, after all, so you placidly lie there at his side while his sharp focused gaze mindfully looks over the problem set out before him. It’s not hard to see the concentration etched along his brow, the thoughtfully grumpy pull of his mouth, but even that isn’t quite enough to distract you from the reality of what was going on here.
He was trying to be nice to you because … because he liked you? Because he wanted to make you feel good, just the same as you’d wanted to do for him, even if he couldn’t experience any of that same pleasure in return? Or maybe he was just curious, as one alien life form to another.
Either way, that certainly was not how you’d expected this to go. Especially not after learning just how different the unique physiology between your bodies actually is - so drastically at odds with one another that you two were incompatible, as he’d put it, but still. There was simply no turning a blind eye here. He was going out of his way to do something for your benefit despite how uncharacteristic that actually was for him, placating and humoring your silly little human feelings in equal measure. You couldn’t even begin to understand it, the what, the why or the how, but it makes your wildly pounding heart swell damn near to bursting. While not quite what you’d envisioned, it was something that seemed to suggest your feelings for him weren’t entirely unreciprocated.
Anxiously holding your breath, you grasp his forearm a bit more firmly and guide him into a groping, rolling motion that makes your skin tingle warmly. “It’s nice like this, too.” You tell him, hushed and soft.
He heeds your advice with nothing short of humility, making no attempt to grandstand or act like he has any real clue what he’s doing. Patiently, he follows your instruction until the steady, borderline possessive motion of his palm on your breast finally pulls a quiet whimper out of you just a few moments later.
“Does that truly feel good?”
You bob your head in a quick nod. “Yeah … your hands are big and warm. I’d like to feel them on my skin, too …”
Visibly hesitant, Piccolo peers into your face for a long beat as if he’s searching for something. The answer to this conundrum of what to do with you, what you expected from this physical contact that ultimately doesn’t amount to much from his perspective, or perhaps any outward sign of uncertainty. He doesn’t appear to find any of what he’s looking for though, and he silently unlatches his hand from your chest so he can reach down and tug the hem of your shirt from your pants. Rather than stopping long enough to untie the sash, he merely gives the fabric one sharp tug and your breath catches when it comes loose, exposing the line of your stomach to the night as he roughly shoves the gi up over the swell of your breasts.
Rather than zeroing in on them directly as most men otherwise might have, he directs his hand low again and presses it flat over your abdomen. The rough quality of his palm coupled with the size of it and the perhaps unintentionally dominant gesture has you mewling faintly, eager excitement pooling steadily in the pit of your gut.
“P - Piccolo-sama …”
He remains silent, as stone faced and impassive as ever, which somehow only manages to further excite you despite how odd such stoic behavior really is in this situation. And you shudder when he finally drags his hand higher, over the fluttering plane of your stomach and up across the rise of one tit to stop at your collarbone. He doesn’t miss the way you twitch halfway through the motion though and his focus locks in on it, analyzing it in the span of just a few seconds before he reaches for your chest again.
The way he proceeds to slowly drag his palm across your tit, snug in the thin sports bra he’d conjured for you months ago, is much more deliberate this time, more purposeful. Your soft nipple immediately pebbles and springs up under the pressure to push against the cotton still separating you from him and you quake, twitching sensitively at the contact. A sharp little gasp precedes the faltering moan that rises in the back of your throat, sounding odd and out of place against the near silent backdrop hanging over the mountain.
And the smirk that curls across Piccolo’s mouth at the sound is decidedly mean, an estimation that quickly proves true when he repeats the action a third time only to stop once his fingers are bracketing the stiff nub. You half expect it but a surprised woosh of pleasure still bursts out of you when he pulls the digits together, catching your nipple between them, so he can lightly worry it. The friction, though not great, still makes your loins eagerly curl and you squirm in the cool grass, quickly losing yourself to that warm, swimming haze of desire. You’d harbored this secret need to have him for so long now that your body seems particularly weak to it, overly responsive and tender, making even just the smallest brush of his skin against yours feel like something monumentally powerful.
Discreetly drawing your thighs together, you rub them in a blithe attempt at relieving the thrumming tension that builds there. It’s no use with the thick material of the gi still acting as a barrier though but for all your efforts to hide it, Piccolo still doesn’t miss what you’re doing, and he scoffs.
“I’m surprised,” he admits in a hushed, rumbling tone. “That something as small as this would bring you so much pleasure. Had I known this was all you needed I might have been more obliging. I like that look on your face though, woman. Should I keep going?”
You issue a faint groan and tip your chin down to voraciously drink in the picture perfect sight of his large hand cupped around your tit, making it look small in comparison. The rich shade of his skin stands out against the dark material of your bra even with the shroud of darkness muddling everything together, and a soft little shrill rattles out of you when you see how swollen your pinched nipple is between his fingers.
“Please keep going, Piccolo-sama … I want you to touch me more.”
Dragging your attention back up to his face, you lock heavy lidded eyes with his while you lift your hand to blindly fumble with the band stretched around your ribcage. You watch him intently, eager to see his reaction as you tug your bra up and one breast spills out, it's twin still trapped under his palm. He slowly blinks at the display, as unmoved by your tits as every other time he happened to catch a glimpse of them, but the script is a little different this time. Instead of merely looking away with an unimpressed scoff, he brings his hand up and redirects it to your bare skin. The pulse pounding anticipation is so great that you hardly even notice the slight chill that runs through you, burning much too hot from the inside out to really notice it.
The first contact of his rough, uniquely textured finger on your tightly coiled teat makes you jump, choking on a flustered yelp, before you push your chest up at him in further invitation. Piccolo catches on even quicker than you would have anticipated him to, gradually circling the circumference of your areola until the sensitive tip in the center is almost painfully strained and jutted up in search of the friction it seems to want so much.
Only when you finally whimper in high strung, dizzying need does he finally take the throbbing point between thumb and forefinger, giving it a slow tug that makes your pussy clamp down on nothing. It very nearly punches the air right out of you and, panting, you shoot him an imploringly desperate look through the heavy fall of your drooping eyelashes even as you fumble to release your other breast from the confines of your bra.
Noising a gruff sound that just might be amusement, he gives your poor little teat a sharper pull and you seethe, screwing your eyes shut against the blinding starbursts that erupt across your vision. The indelicate attention he shows your body only highlights that he has no idea what he’s doing, that he’s just testing your reactions to see what works and what doesn’t. This isn’t foreplay in the traditional sense, he isn’t trying to get you warmed up in preparation for the main event, but there’s something about this inexperienced manhandling that excites you a great deal. You’re disproportionately wet between the legs given how rough he’s being with you, and you whine when he persistently yanks on your nipple until you feel the plushy weight of your breast start to lift. Issuing a frazzled sound into the night, you throw your head back and twist on the ground, shoulder bumping his bent knee while you do it.
“Ooooh, that’s - stop, it’s too much!”
To your great relief, Piccolo immediately releases your throbbing tit and you cry out when the meat of your breast bounces back into place, the abused tip stinging smartly in the aftermath. You’re distantly aware of him observing your behavior even as you suck in a faltering breath, no doubt taking note of what garners a response out of you and how much can be applied before you complain about it. You’re a little too lost in this carnal rush of endorphins to give him any further direction or pointers though, struggling just to keep your wits about you so you don’t overstep your welcome with him. If he was willing to cater to your needs in this way but not in any other you were prepared to make do with that. Letting your slicking cunt get the better of you would just jeopardize whatever was currently happening between the two of you, and you didn’t want to risk it any more than you already had.
After closely guarding this attraction over the last few months, you were just happy to accept whatever little morsels or tidbits he might be gracious enough to give you in the here and now. You wanted him, may have even needed him, and not knowing what he might do next has you feeling damn near mad
“Please …”
Faintly wheezing, you spread your legs wide and reach down to slot your hand between them so you can cup the swell of your mound through your pants. It’s impossible to even think straight as you grind the heel of your palm into the spot where you needed it most, but you force yourself to find your voice again. “Here … will you touch me here too, Piccolo-sama? Please?”
He tips his head to glance down the length of your body, dispassionately taking in the needy little way you circle your hips as if to further emphasize what it is you want from him. Of course he doesn’t have any clue what you’re getting at or even what it is you’re asking for so he just stares at the desperate display until you practically sob at your own pitiful distress.
“Please!”
Shooting you a quick, unreadable look, he tentatively brings his hand down off your chest to slide it between your legs. He hesitates only a brief second before he closes his palm over your knuckles, just feeling out the way you rub your pussy for him. You hiccup at the sensation and push down a little harder, messaging yourself with a bit more purpose now so you can show him what would make you feel really good.
Your heartbeat is an erratic mess while you anxiously wait to see what his next move would be, wondering if he’ll acquiesce as he’d done up until now or if he would finally decide that this was the last straw. It was too much - you were asking too much of him, expecting too much from someone who obviously had no working concept of human sexuality nor any of the mechanics involved. On some level you knew you were being presumptuous and maybe a bit greedy, but it was impossible not to give in to that temptation when his smolderingly astute attention was fixed on you like this. If he would willingly touch your breasts then why not your cunt? That didn’t seem all that put off by the mammalian softness of your body but, rather, almost curious about it, encourages you to keep massaging your cunt for him almost as much as the vibrating pleasure that courses through you while you do it.
And at last he stirs as if from a singular trance, gently wrapping his fingers around yours before firmly prying them off your pussy. You whine at the loss, feeling helpless and so very pathetic, but the sound promptly cuts off with a choked little groan when he replaces your palm with his. Slow and steady, Piccolo caresses up and down the pudge of your clothed slit for a long moment, noting the way your pelvis cants into the rhythmic motion with his usual silent observation before eventually sliding his hand higher up your pelvis so he can forcefully pull at the sash around your waist.
A low, stuttering whine tumbles off your salivating tongue while he works it loose and then sets his sights on the band of your pants. You lift your hips for him as he yanks the heavy fabric down, legs curling up so he can pull them completely off along with your shoes. Dropping them in the grass, he reaches for you again and you eagerly spread your legs, watching him regard your exposed cunt with stoic interest.
“This is what excites human men so much?” He at last queries.
“Some of them.”
He thinks about that for a moment, intense gaze following along the velveteen cushion of your labia and the tender seam that splits your body in two. Then Piccolo reaches for you with a purpose, as if he's settled on a course of action, and you give a startled little jolt as he palms you again, the abrupt skin on skin contact sending violent shudders racing through your body.
“O - oh!”
Grunting as if in agreement, he rather casually grinds the heel of his hand down just as you’d done to yourself only moments prior. “You’re damp down here.”
“It’s s - supposed to be like that …” You pause long enough to swallow your nerves, the muscles in your constricting throat working hard. “It’s what happens when we’re excited.”
“Your species is so strange.”
You almost laugh at that, gurgling on the sound as you jut your pelvis into the pressure and haltingly follow the sedate if not demanding motion of his hand. “I’m sorry … nngh, this is - it’s because this is where your cock is supposed to go. In theory, anyway.”
You offer him a strained little smile to indicate that you were only joking, but he goes immediately still and sends you a slow look that makes you regret saying anything at all. He doesn’t give you enough time to correct yourself though, and you brace for the worst when he draws an evenly tempered breath to speak.
“What do you mean?”
Unequivocally floored by that question, you fumble for a painfully long moment before sending a pointed look at his lap. You had no idea how else to explain yourself, especially when your face was burning up thanks to a potent cocktail of genuine embarrassment and red hot desire but, for better or worse, Piccolo catches on quick as ever and he slowly looks down at himself where he’s still half hanging out of his pants.
It lasts only a few seconds, however, before his attention is back up on you. “Is that what you want?”
Your brain immediately shuts down as if someone had just pulled the plug on it. “W - what do you mean?”
“Do you want me to put it in you?” Piccolo growls, clearly nearing the end of his patience now. “Yes or no.”
“Wha - I - I mean - you know, it’s, ah - I don’t - uhh, y - you just - -“
With an audible click of his tongue, he twists his upper body so he can grab two meaty handfuls of your thighs and lift your bottom half up off the ground, effortlessly yanking you around so that your body is laying perpendicular to his. You very nearly pass out on the spot, your head spinning violently with the rush of motion, but you don’t even get a second to calm yourself before he's pushing up onto his knees. At the hefty bounce his cock gives with the motion, you start to feel well and truly faint.
“P - Piccolo-sama, you really don’t - -“
“Quiet.” He snaps, hardly the same spitting image of statuesque indifference he had been up until now, and you loudly squawk when he grabs at your legs so he can yank you across the grass, closer to where he’s now kneeling. “I can see it on your face, woman. You obviously want it so I will give it to you, but don’t you dare cry about being disappointed later.”
“I - I would never - -“ you start to assure him but your voice abruptly cuts off with a strangled gasp as he unceremoniously shoves your legs apart.
Evidently assessing this new challenge, he just stares at your cunt for an uncomfortably long time until you grudgingly realize you’re going to have to help him. Even his aggressive brand of confidence was not enough to conceal the fact he didn’t know what to do past this point. It’s a wonder you don’t break down into hysterics right then and there, but if he was willing to take it this far then who were you to tell him no?
Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire as you reach down, snaking your arms under your upturned thighs so you can press trembling fingers into the plushy give of your outer labia. You have to fight back a fresh rush of embarrassed tears while you do it but you’d come too far to chicken out now, and Piccolo’s expression gives away the slightest hint of surprise when you pull yourself open for him.
“Here.” You mutter, almost choking on it. “You don’t have to do it hard, just … push in here.”
A soft tap of your pointer finger draws his attention to your slicking entrance and he takes a moment to size you up before reaching for his cock. He looks doubtful, maybe even a little confused, yet whether for his pride or his hardened determination to surpass whatever obstacle he’s faced with, he doesn’t back down. And you can’t even bring yourself to watch, so overwhelmed by shame and desire that you turn your face away with a quiet whimper as he guides himself to your waiting cunt.
The first sensation you register is the soft, tapered tip gliding smoothly into place and you groan low in your chest, struggling just to breathe through it. He gives you a gentle nudge then, easing himself forward, and the uniquely streamlined shape of him quickly proves just as insidious as it had in your throat when it slips into you with almost no resistance to show for it at all.
It’s an easy insertion that rapidly becomes more difficult the further he eases into your shuddering cunt, making you seethe through your teeth at the deeply felt stretch. Piccolo momentarily falters, gauging the apparent discomfort present in the sound but seems to decide it’s not a sign for him to stop, and proceeds to rather mercilessly lean his weight into you.
A frantic wail promptly bursts out of your mouth at the pressure, tossing your head against the grass. Still, he does not stop and the borderline painful stretch soon has your hands flying out to cling to his forearm, his shoulder, his chest. It doesn’t seem to matter what you latch onto, anything would do while your toes uselessly flex in the air as if to find some amount of purchase there. He’s simply too thick and weighty for your poor little pussy to take, unstretched as it was, and even the efficiently smooth design of his length doesn’t help very much when he was simply too thick for your body.
One single, teary eyed glance at his face is enough to stop your impulsive urge to tell him to wait though, because you’d never seen such a severe look of concentration drawn across his features before. This was also the first time you’d ever witnessed him breaking out in a light, clammy sweat because of something you were doing to him and you aren’t sure what to make of it in the heat of the moment. Piccolo was always so far out of your reach, so reserved, that you were quite literally dumbstruck to see him so affected by this and the sharp stab of hope you feel in your chest has you dizzily groaning underneath him. The very notion that he might actually like how your guts feel wrapped around him is almost enough to have you convulsing right then and there, but you desperately clench your jaw in an attempt to stave it off.
You weren’t going to cum until you finally managed to get a proper reaction out of him. You swore you wouldn’t.
“Hnn - nnnnngghhhh!” The vulgar, borderline animalistic sound eventually forces its way through your gritted teeth when he at last finishes sliding home some moments later, your eyes rolling straight into the back of your head while your stuffed cunt sensitively flutters around the intrusion. He feels massive inside you. Not particularly long, but sufficiently wide enough to make it seem like he had you stretched right to the breaking point. It was simply too much, and your head lolls back in doped out bliss.
“Hey.”
A light, attention grabbing slap to your cheek partially snaps you out of it, prompting you to blearily peer up at him with wide, blown out eyes. Your voice is caught somewhere between your wedged shut throat and your churning gut though, so you just stare up at him with nothing short of frazzled distress.
Piccolo studies you for a moment and then slowly smirks, flashing a hint of otherworldly fangs in a clear show of challenge. “Don’t tell me you're tapping out already.”
You jerk your head in a mute shake. The fact he sounded so unbothered, annoyingly unaffected while you were fighting just to keep yourself in one piece, would no doubt bother you later when you vividly recalled this very moment in dreamy reminiscence. He appeared as a god of legend might looming over you like this, all rough around the edges and impassively mean, yet noble at the same time, particularly with the dark, cloudy sky serving as a fitting backdrop to highlight his handsomely peculiar features. It just didn’t seem fair that he should break you in half on his cock and the only thing you had to show for it was the light sheen coating his viridescent skin, the nearly imperceptibly deepening furrow across his browline.
It only serves to further wind you up though, something about his inscrutable demeanor even when he’s sheathed straight down to the hilt inside your cunt that makes it all the more obvious just how unlikely such a pairing of two drastically different bodies actually is. You revel in it, delighted beyond measure and rattled to the core - numb with what just might be disbelief at your own luck as you bring shaking hands up to reach for him.
Eyeing you with a certain amount of cautious neutrality, Piccolo considers you for a prolonged beat before giving in. It occurs to you in this moment that he's always humored you in his own little way, far beyond just that of mere allowances for your delicate physiology in comparison to his, while always masking it behind an aggressively demanding veneer. This - all of it is the same, just another form of magnanimity that seemed to be uniquely applied to you and you alone - and you suddenly feel like an even greater fool for ever doubting his willingness to let you stay with him for as long as you may so desire.
Fervently, your arms circle around his neck as he hunches over you so he can brace his hands on either side of your head. His long cloak slips forward with the motion and curtains around you, making you feel strangely sequestered in your own little bubble of privacy and confidentiality. Profoundly intimate, despite being out in the wide open without even a thin tent to conceal your illicit activities. You were unequivocally safe with him though, and you’d never known that quite as surely as you do now when you realize he’s still patiently waiting for further instructions.
“You can move now.” You murmur softly.
“Move?”
“In and out. With your hips.”
He briefly considers the logistics of that, and you can all but see the gears abrasively grinding away behind his narrow eyes, no doubt trying to make sense of your request. You idly wonder if the thrusting part is not a natural inclination of his people, which would make a certain amount of sense if they truly copulated via the throat but you quietly file that away for later consideration.
Finally settling into the idea, Piccolo shifts over top of you and tips his chin down to peer at the spot where your bodies are connected. You follow his lead, abruptly realizing that at some point your muscles had started to relax around him, accommodating to the stretch, and it fills you with a soft pitter patter of hope that you’ll fare a bit better going forward. Or at least that it might be just a pinch easier, if nothing else.
That quaint little thought is soon quashed, however, when he starts to slowly angle his hips back and you feel the intense drag of his cock pulling against your guts in startling high definition. The fit is still too snug, his girth a bit too much for even your slicking arousal to do much good against, and you shrill in high strung distress as you fist your hands in the neck of his cloak. He’s as merciless in this as he is with anything else though, and he sedately pushes back in when he’s only a third of the way out. It doesn’t give you enough time to brace yourself, catching you somewhat off guard, and your muscles lock up with a dizzying amount of tension almost immediately.
Already toeing the line of a soul shattering orgasm just from having his cock bullied into you a second time, you toss your head back to peer up at him as if in a daze. You can hardly breathe for as overwhelming the stuffed full sensation is, especially when coupled with the greedy way your cunt seems to cling to him on his next stilted withdraw. Piccolo is well aware of you staring at him though, and he swivels his attention towards your face.
“Like this?” His voice is a low rumble, thick with concentration rather than the husk of pleasure you otherwise would have expected to hear.
“Uhh - uh huh!”
That appears to put him at ease somewhat and his shoulders relax slightly, easing himself into the motion as he searches out a rhythm to settle into based on the sporadic jolts in your expression. You can see the way he studies each one, noting what causes them and what doesn’t so he can focus his efforts on the former rather than wasting his time on the latter. In a matter of moments he seems to be knocking that tender spot inside of you with near expert precision, as if he’s done this a hundred times before and you hadn’t had to guide him through it every step of the way. You can’t quite catch your breath between helplessly bleating out in wordless ecstasy though, whatever you may have wanted to say about the unfair advantage he held over you even now firmly trapped inside your throat.
“Just as I thought.” He says after a prolonged moment of watching you writhe and cry out for him. “You look frustratingly good like this.”
Your brows draw upward in confusion, too doped out on fast pumping adrenaline and potent endorphins to make any sense of it. You try to question it but all that comes out is a strangled moan that makes your eyes vibrate in their sockets so you forcefully swallow, take a heaving gasp of air and try again. “Uhhn - uuugghhh! Pi - Piccolo-sama! Wha - aaagghn! What are you - -“
“Isn’t it obvious?” He cuts you off with a sharp, characteristically mean smirk. “I know what you humans call this. I’m fucking you, aren’t I?”
You seize so suddenly it actually catches you off guard, so irreparably rattled at hearing that particular phrase come out of his mouth - and aimed at you no less! - that you instinctively clamp down on him, hard. The subconscious reaction immediately sends your cunt into a pulsing frenzy, wildly squeezing down on his cock so violently that it brings tears to your eyes. Tossing your head back again, you helplessly scream for him despite knowing that if there was any other soul on this mountain ridge they’ve surely heard you wailing now, if not sooner. It doesn’t even seem to matter though, your inhibitions long gone out the window as you quake so feebly through your mind numbing orgasm that you almost don’t even register the moment your pussy erupts, spraying the front of him in arousal.
The pressure on your guts is too great though, and it seems to force it right out of you no matter how hard you clench in roiling, shell shocked disbelief. You screw your eyes shut with a keening shriek when a second spurt shoots out of you to further soak him but even then he doesn’t let up on the steady push and pull of his heavy girth along your palpitating cunt. With no other option, you lie there and take it, your head a mess of static white noise that doesn’t clear up even when you finally start to come down from the high some moments later.
Still twitching relentlessly, you go boneless underneath him with a disgruntled, overwrought groan. Another quickly follows when, in a far off, dreamy sort of way, you feel your pussy give one last pulse that sends a weak jet of watery fluid across Piccolo’s waist before receding to an obscene dribble. You’re aware of it running down the sides of his cock in warm rivulets where he’s still wedged inside of you before making its way down your upturned ass to bleed into the grass below. The shock mixed with this unprecedented level of satisfaction searing through your veins has you feeling appropriately intoxicated, and all you can seem to do is let your head loll on the ground when he eventually moves to pull out.
You still wince at the final pull against the gummy sleeve of your insides, now sore and overly sensitive, but a heaving sigh of relief soon follows as he slips loose of your clutching grip on him. The vague thought that he's left you gaping in the aftermath, as evidenced by the weak, palpitating flutter around absolutely nothing, crosses your mind for a quick moment and then it’s gone. What did it even matter anymore? You were already irreparably ruined for any other man in terms of everything else, why should your cunt be any different?
“Woman,” he suddenly growls, drawing you out of la la land by only a small margin. “Is this really how your kind mate? The mess you’ve made is indecent.”
“Mm’sorry,” you slur inelegantly. “It usually isn’t so … much.”
Scoffing in clear distaste, Piccolo stands up so he can tuck himself back into his pants before stepping over your splayed out leg, bending down to grab under your arms. He effortlessly hauls you up to hang from his hold, keeping you a safe distance away from his person as if his clothes could get any more soiled than they already were. Not that you could really blame him for being annoyed about it but still.
“Where’re we going?”
“That should be obvious. Now both of us need to get cleaned up because of you. A little warning would have been nice, by the way.”
“I didn’t know.” You weakly protest, but he pays it little mind.
Somehow you aren’t the least bit surprised when he unceremoniously tosses you into the hotspring as if you were nothing more than a sack of potatoes needing to be washed.
The two of you depart from the mountain the next afternoon as if nothing had even transpired between you and him the night before. He was still as grumpy with you as ever, maybe even a little more so than usual after you’d drenched the front of him in arousal, but not much seemed to have changed. It’s not like you’d really expected it to, given who he was, but you just considered yourself lucky to have woken up with him still there at all.
Flying high overhead, Piccolo leads the way while you follow from the ground on your trusty motorbike. It was an older model from Capsule Corp but it got the job done in terms of keeping up with him, though it certainly helped that he kept his pace at a reasonable speed so you wouldn’t lose him. It was an all together comfortable way to travel, especially knowing he could keep a better eye on what was ahead than you were able to from your vantage point down below. It also saved you the ordeal of having to be carried like a damsel in distress, so there was that too.
For three days and two nights you cross countless miles of land almost nonstop, the landscape gradually shifting from the richly dotted mountainous region you’d started in, saying goodbye to the dense thickets of bamboo and rolling mists, to the flat stretch of farmland on the other side. It was occupied by simple country folk who waved as you sped by, oblivious to his presence up in the air. From there it eventually turned into a craggy wasteland and then, finally, the desert.
You grow suspicious of where he’s leading you almost as soon as you cross over into the sand dunes, but you grudgingly keep plowing forward once the familiar warmth of your homeland seeps into your skin. It feels a bit like a reassuring hug from an old friend, comforting and encouraging in equal measure, so you decide to let it go. You trust Piccolo’s judgment, after all, and it’s not as if he’d ever steered you wrong before. Surely he knew better than to revisit old wounds.
The first pangs of true doubt start to creep into your mind when you see him descend from up in the clouds to touch ground somewhere up ahead. Your gut tells you he’s up to something, though you can’t even begin to guess what. You’d half expected him to fly right through this area to get to whatever was beyond that - what that might be you weren’t sure. You’d never traveled that far west before. You also hadn’t been back here since the day he’d found you all battered and bruised, and you don’t know what to make of it.
Slowing to a stop some few yards behind him, you turn the bike off and nudge the kickstand into place. Dismounting, you hesitantly shuffle over to him on lead heavy feet but he doesn’t even glance up from where he’s looking out over a rocky ledge with his back to you. Coming up beside him doesn’t draw his attention either so you slowly glance down at what he’s staring at and a stiff shudder promptly tears through you.
“What is that?”
“You really don’t know?”
You study the sun ravaged tent with nothing short of contempt. Of course you had some guesses but you weren’t so sure you wanted to entertain any of them. “I might have an idea. I don’t think I like it though.”
“Oh?” Finally turning away from the tiny encampment, Piccolo glances over at you with his usual brand of aloof disinterest. “I thought you might appreciate a chance to exact some revenge.”
Suddenly chilled, you turn to regard him with widened eyes. “Is that really why you brought me here?”
“No, it is ultimately your choice to make. Take it or leave it. I’m only giving you the opportunity.”
“But why - -“
“It is why I gave you that gi, though.”
Your mouth drops open but nothing comes out, confusion no doubt running rampant across your expression, and he smirks.
“I meant to acknowledge you with it, yes, but not in the way you assumed. You’ve reached the point where you can take back what was taken from you without my help. This is my way of giving you permission to use what I taught you however you may see fit.”
Dumbfounded, you just stare at him for a moment longer before finally managing to find your voice. “You think I can take those guys on by myself?”
“I know you can.”
You pull back in shock, floundering for something to say. But when all you draw is one big blank and nothing of use, you slowly look out over the ridge again in contemplative silence. It wasn’t that you didn’t believe him. You had a feeling he was probably right about that, actually, yet it was still hard to wrap your head around the notion that he thought so highly of the progress you’d made. Far be it you’d ever landed a damaging blow on him even once, let alone withstood his hand to hand sparring for longer than five minutes at a time, but still. You had gotten rather good at fighting.
To be fair, though, him being a super strong alien certainty put you at a steep disadvantage so of course gauging your own strength against him was all but impossible. Against other humans though …
Warily, you swing your attention back around again. “You’re sure?”
“I wouldn’t say you were ready if you weren’t.” Piccolo grumps, arms crossing over his chest. “They’re nothing but trash so they deserve whatever it is you choose to dish out. You don’t need to hold back with the likes of them.”
“Okay.” You mouth the word then, in a stronger voice, “Okay! Are you going to watch me?”
He outright snorts at that. “Of course I am. What a stupid question.”
Practically grinning from ear to ear, you eagerly motion him along. “Alright, then let’s go! I’m excited to see how well I do against someone other than you anyway.”
“I bet you are.”
Twenty minutes later finds four bandits laid out across the ground, most of them face down in sand drifts stained dark with blood, while you haul the last one up by the front of his torn smock. The adrenaline rush is wild, so much so that you barely even notice the splintering pain in your shredded knuckles. You’d gotten a little carried away, sure. Gone overboard when a certain amount of discretion on your part would have gone just as far, but you felt indescribably good. Great even. It hadn’t occurred to you until now just how therapeutic a good beat down could actually be and, to your absolute delight, your mentor had been absolutely right in his estimation of you. These men never stood a chance against you after all that hellish training you’d endured. You may not have been even close to being the strongest in the world, not by a long shot, but you were strong enough to take care of yourself and that’s what mattered most.
That and of course Piccolo, standing off to the side like an ever watchful sentry, just observing your admittedly violent display with a little smirk in place. He looked as if he’d been carved from the very limestone that sprouts up out of the ground in this region, a spark of what can only be pride flashing in his dark eyes as you belt the man in your hold across the face so hard a tooth goes flying off into the sand. His hawkish approval meant even more to you than you would ever admit, and you were glad he’d brought you here.
It was almost as satisfying as being stretched out on his cock.
Warnings: daddy kink, over the knee spanking, punishment, humiliation/degradation, dirty talk, public, toilet blowjob, passing mention of vomit
A/N: This is something quick and not overly polished I spit up instead of working on any of my existing wip's. lmao (but in sad) I really need to stress the warnings on this one, specifically the toilet blowjob part because I know that might squick some people out. u_u
P.S. yes, the title is a pun and I'm unreasonably proud of myself for that one, haha. Please enjoy (?)
♥♥♥♥
Your whining pleas fall on deaf ears as Ken drags you, tripping and stumbling, towards the nearest bathroom in the largely deserted train station. The hardly conspicuous snickers from the rest of the group filters up behind you, serving only to highlight your shame and make you further regret every poor choice you’d made today. Sure, you’d been acting like a brat off and on, here or there, but was it really that different from your usual?
And more importantly, was sticking your tongue out at him really where he drew the line?
“Please, Ken,” you mewl, tugging back on his hold even though you knew damn well it wouldn’t get you anywhere. “I promise I didn’t mean it like that. It was just a joke!”
He doesn’t respond, and your stomach does a nice little somersault when you glance up only to find the signage for the restrooms looming right overhead. You weren’t sure what he planned to do once he got you inside, though you could certainly take a guess, and you bring your opposite hand up to try and pry his fingers off your wrist in a last ditch effort.
No such luck, of course. He was just too strong, too big for you to escape from once he already had a hold on you and your feet inelegantly shuffle over the threshold into the men’s room no matter how hard you try to put on the brakes.
Stopping long enough to make sure no one else was already in here, Ken pulls you down the row of stalls and into the last one where he slams the door shut hard enough to make you squeak. Your heart is in your throat as you sheepishly peer up at him and he levelly stares right back as he flicks the lock into place without missing a beat.
“I’m sorry?” You try in a small, hopeful voice.
“I gave you plenty of chances to be sorry earlier.” He intones. “You’ve been asking for this all day, princess. Don’t act surprised now that you’re getting it.”
“But, Ken - -“
“The only butt I’m concerned about right now is yours.” He gives your arm a pointed tug. “Come here. Now.”
You momentarily consider kicking and screaming your way out of this but Ken must see the thought flash across your face, because his frown deepens in warning. Realizing he’d be just as happy to go about this the hard way, even in a public space, you hesitantly close the distance between you and him on shuffling little steps.
Satisfied with your decision to cooperate, he releases his hold on your arm so he can bend down and reach under the skirt you were wearing. A quiet whimper bubbles up in the back of your throat when he hooks his fingers into the elastic of your panties, falling into a crouch as he tugs them to your ankles in a single fluid motion.
“Step out.”
You comply, slowly, and he tucks them away in the pocket of his jeans before rising to his full, towering height again. It would be nice to say you’d come to terms with your fate, or rather the fate of your ass, but he still manages to catch you off guard when he reaches out to grab you by the back of your neck and yank you forward into a half bent position. The physical strength in his lanky body manages to be impressive even now, and you choke on a haggard sound as he loops an arm over your back so he can haul you right up off your feet.
“Wait!” You blurt, alarmed by how much of the tiled restroom floor was suddenly taking up your line of sight. “I’m sorry, Ken! I’m sorry! I promise I won’t do it again! Really!”
A sharply delivered smack over the cotton of your skirt has you yelping. “I bet you won’t after this. How’s it feel being drug off to the bathroom like a child to get spanked? Huh?”
You can’t help withering at that, and a startled whimper bursts out of you when he tucks you more securely under his arm with a rough jostle. Then, to your surprise, he pivots so he can smack his boot down on the edge of the toilet and pull you over his bent leg, propping your ass up in the air for the perfect angle to strike at.
Practically wheezing, you blindly reach up to fist one hand in the back of his jacket while the other latches onto the arm holding you around the middle. God, you’d really done it this time. He was not happy with you at all.
“First things first,” he starts, punctuating each word with a swat to either cheek. “You wanna’ tell me why you’ve been such a goddamn brat today?”
“No …” You murmur only to cry out when he brings his hand down again, harder this time.
“Second chance.”
Blinking back the sting of humiliated tears, you suck in a faltering breath. “I don’t know … I just thought it was fun.”
Barking out a humorless laugh, Ken lands two more slaps across your ass. “And are you still having fun, princess?”
“Mm’not.” You sniffle sadly.
“Good.” He hits the left cheek and then the right in quick succession, making you lurch in his hold. “I’d be doing something wrong if you were. But I think I was pretty lenient today considering all the shit you pulled. What made you think I wouldn’t burn your ass up for acting like that, huh? Thought you could get away with anything just because we were in public?” Another scoffing laugh to accompany the sting of his palm striking you over your behind. “Do I really seem the type to let shit slide because of that?”
“Nooo …” You whine, squirming at the steady burn that’s settled into your skin now. His hold on you is unfaltering though, so you resort to impotently curling your legs up in the air to try and dissuade him instead.
But Ken merely shoves them away so he can spank your ass twice more before flipping your skirt up to expose you to the full brunt of his swing. You seethe when the cool air touches your inflamed skin, goosebumps erupting all across your body when it makes the nerves sting even more.
“Then why did you try me, princess?” He prods, hand flattening across the swell of your ass so he can rub the pain in with his abrasively callused palm. “We didn’t have to do this, y’know. What do you think the guys are saying right now? You think they won’t know exactly what happened in here?”
The first smack against bare skin is easily the worst yet and you wail in agony, uselessly kicking your feet out behind you. “I’m sorry!”
“Not yet you aren’t.” He promises.
Another set of blistering swats has the tears you’d been fighting back so valiantly dribbling down your flushed face, unhindered, and you’re distantly aware of the soft plop of them hitting the restroom floor. The pain was starting to reach fever pitch now, you weren’t sure how much more of this you could handle without devolving into ugly sobs, but you already knew he wouldn’t stop until he was satisfied.
That’s just the kind of guy Ken was.
“Daddy …” You choke out, hoping to appeal to his emotions even if only enough to cut your punishment in half.
It doesn’t seem to sway him though, and his heavy hand lands across your backside hard enough to make your head swim. “It’s a bit late for that now, wouldn’t you say? You don’t get to be daddy’s good little girl” smack “when you’re bent over his knee” smack “getting spanked like a bratty baby. That’s not how this works and you know that.”
Struggling just to breathe through it, you pitifully writhe against him. “Mm’sorry, daddy … I should have been good …”
“That’s an understatement.” Ken scoffs.
Readjusting his hold on you with a brief jostle, he spanks your ass a few more times before pausing to drag his palm across your blistering skin. You seethe at the stinging, burning pinprick sensation but he isn’t quite done yet, and a frantic wail rises up out of you when he starts up again.
“Next time you’re going to make better decisions, aren’t you?”
“Y - yes!”
“And you’re going to suck my cock when I’m done spanking you, right?”
“Yes, daddy, I will! Anything!”
He noises a soft grunt of approval as he peppers both cheeks with a handful of sharp smacks meant to drive his point home. “And then you’ll apologize to everyone for being such a bratty little girl when we go back out there. Look them all in the face and explain why you needed to get your ass beat.”
Hanging limp from his grasp now, all you can do is nod your head in shame but Ken clearly expects a verbal response, and he brings his hand down hard to make you squeal.
“Well? I’m waiting.”
“I will! I’ll apologize to eh - everyone for being bad today!”
“Good call, princess.” Delivering another solid strike to both cheeks in turn, Ken finally lets up on your poor behind in favor of rubbing his warm hand across it. The hiccuping sounds of your crying quickly rushes in to replace the continuous slap of skin on skin that had once dominated the empty bathroom, and he quietly shushes you after a long moment of letting you get it all out. “Calm down, baby. It’s over. Just take a deep breath, okay?” He says, gentle now in place of the stern and reproachful tone he’d been using with you.
Obediently, you suck in a haggard, stuttering breath and let it out in one big woosh but it does very little to ease the hurt of your spanking. At his encouragement, you do it again and then again until you finally start to come down from it one piece at a time. Soon enough, your broken sobbing recedes to soft, sniffling whimpers and he gives your sore rump an approving pat that makes you hiss before moving to lower his leg off the toilet.
“You know I don’t like punishing you like that.” He murmurs, gently setting you down on your feet and even though you know that’s not the whole truth you still find yourself leaning into the comfort of his arms when he pulls you into a hug. “I just want you to be good for me. You know that, right?”
Face buried in his shirt, you nod your head.
He sedately drags his hand across your back in comforting circles until you eventually calm down a bit more some moments later. Pulling back to look at you once your shoulders have stopped trembling with muffled sobs, he reaches up to thumb some of the moisture away from your face. “There’s my pretty girl. You ready to suck daddy’s cock so we can get out of here? Hm?”
You offer him a tremulous, hopeful little smile and nod.
Pleased, he moves to unfasten his pants and you lick your lips in anticipation, squirming on the spot. You’d be lying if you said your pussy wasn’t just ever so slightly damp after that and it eagerly clenches when his thick cock springs up in the air. He manages to surprise you, though, when he shuffles around you and takes a seat on the toilet with his jeans shoved down around his ankles, allowing him to spread his legs in a wide v that leaves his heavy ball sac hanging in plain view.
You gulp. Hard. “Like that?”
Ken nods once as he reaches around to take himself in hand and slowly pump, the motion making his foreskin bunch at the top and then pull back just far enough for you to see the visibly wet glans poking through. “It’s what you deserve for being such a bad girl, isn’t it? A little humility will do you some good, princess.”
At your hesitation, he hums a low sound of warning and you grudgingly shuffle closer so you can kneel on the floor. Your stomach clenches and flips over itself, repulsed by your close proximity to the public toilet, but you were resigned to see this through to the end. A healthy serving of degradation was left on the negotiation table after discussing limitations and hard passes so it wasn’t like he’d presented you with a completely left field request.
At least you still had your safeword.
At least the toilet looked clean.
Drawing a steadying breath, you place your hands on Ken’s slim yet muscle heavy thighs and lean forward. His unoccupied hand comes up to meet you halfway, cradling the curve of your skull and guiding you to the waiting tip of his penis. You give it a lingering kiss as if in apology, then slowly work your way down the underside of it one peck at a time until your lips meet his curled knuckles where he’s still gripping himself. You kiss those too, reverential, before rising up on your knees even as they ache in protest against the unforgiving floor.
You weren’t sure which was more painful, that or the constant burning heat that encompasses your whole ass, but you resolve to ignore both for the time being. Opening your mouth wide, you flick your tongue out to lap across the exposed glans, tasting a dollop of bitter precum, and Ken issues a slow, sighing breath through his nose.
“You might not want to take all day, princess.” He murmurs, tightening his hold on your head and pushing down so that you’re forced to accept a quarter of his length into your waiting mouth. “The guys’ll start to get antsy if you don’t speed it up a little bit, and I don’t think you want another spanking for holding everybody up.”
Whining at the mere suggestion, you blink back a fresh rush of salty tears and begin bobbing your head, making sure to hollow out your cheeks on each upward pull. He moans into the still quiet after a long beat and then shifts, reclining against the back of the toilet. This alters the position of his pelvis, just as he’d likely intended, and with no other choice you hesitantly lean further over the bowl. The added effect of jutting your bruised ass up in the air only seems to highlight your humiliation even more, and you’re ashamed at the way your pussy needily clenches in response to it.
“Good baby. You look so hot like this, you know that? Don’t know why I didn’t think of this sooner …” Pausing, he releases his cock and brings the hand up to affectionately brush some of the hair from your face. Gathering it up and then back, he digs his fingers in on either side and grips hard at the root as he pulls you into a faster bobbing motion that leaves your mouth noisily schlucking around him. “Only bad girls get treated like this, you know. I hope you remember that for next time. Come on, princess. Look at me while you’re sucking me off.”
Slowly, you swivel your gaze upward to lock on his face and you squirm when you find the heavy lidded stare he’s got leveled on you. If it weren’t for the slightest draw of his brows, the faintest dusting of pink high up on his cheekbones and the faint sheen of sweat on his skin you would almost think this were any other blowjob you’d ever given him. Not one administered after a blistering spanking nor one taking place in a public restroom over a toilet. The fact he seemed so unbothered, so impartial to the plight you’d brought on yourself only drives the point further home and you suck in a faltering breath through your stuffy nose.
The sound catches his attention, dark stormy eyes lighting up with alertness and he softly coos at you. “What’s the matter, baby? You feeling like a filthy slut down there or something?”
You pitifully nod your head, struggling to swallow around him. The flex of your throat makes him groan, very softly, before tipping his neck back in relish.
“Glad to hear it. That was the point, you know …”
The distracted note in his voice when he trails off tells you he’s enjoying your mouth, so you slide one of your hands inward to grip him around the base and pump, eager to be done with this humiliating act of service. Ken allows it for a long moment while he simply luxuriates in the sticky warmth of your tongue lapping along the underside of his cock, but then he stirs as if out of a light slumber.
“Don’t forget the balls, pretty girl. Ya’ gotta’ show them some love too.”
Actively grimacing in disgust, you start to bring your opposite hand down to caress Ken’s hanging sac but a low sound of warning stops you short. You understand what he wants all too well and you pull off him with a small wet pop, taking little gasping breaths as you regard the challenge in front of you. The toilet did in fact look clean - probably only recently scrubbed down before you got here. May not have even been used yet since then.
But knowing what it was still makes your gag reflex react, and you choke in the back of your throat. You didn’t really want to do this and, sensing your uncertainty, he lets up his hold on your hair in favor of caressing down the sides of your face in a comforting gesture.
“You wanna’ stop? Just say the word, princess.”
You seriously consider it for a short beat, but you ultimately decide not to. Not when you were already down here, demeaning yourself like this, because it would feel like a waste of your efforts. You’d gone this far, how bad could another inch towards depravity really be?
Besides, this was your penance for acting out so much today. The cycle of give and take you’d settled into with him couldn't properly come to a close so another could begin until after you’d earned his forgiveness for this transgression, and you so badly wanted that more than anything else.
Resigned, you swallow your nerves and tip his cock back towards his stomach, drawing his ballsack higher, and then lean down. Revulsion makes your stomach roil into a tight, uncomfortable knot even as you slip your tongue out to take a tentative lap at the sinfully smooth skin of his scrotum. When you don’t promptly retch and throw up all over the place (at least you were already in the perfect position to do so) you dip your face just that little bit lower to suck his left teste into your mouth.
Ken absolutely seethes at it, his thighs noticeably tensing up around your face. Apparently he hadn’t expected you to really do it and you feel a brief surge of victory, glad to catch him off guard even at the price of your own dignity.
Slightly more sure of yourself now, you suckle at his nut while lazily pumping him with your hand and you delight in the way the motion pulls on his sack. The groaning sound of fluster that comes out of him only further emboldens you and you let his teste pop out of your mouth with a wet smack so you can alternate to the other. The smell of sterile cleaning products, bleach and other disinfectants, swarm your nose, almost covering the heady musk of him while you make a pointed effort not to glance down at the bowl. A small relief at this point but one nonetheless.
You weren’t so sure your churning stomach could withstand the close up visual no matter how clean it looked.
“Shit, baby. That’s it. Such a good girl … you make daddy so proud, you know that?”
Warming under his praise, you release his sack and lick a wet stripe along the seam right up to the underside of his cock. You work your way higher still until you’re rising above his lap again where you guide him into your mouth, taking him as far as you can go. The muscles in his thighs visibly twitch, gradually tensing up for you, so you put your all into bobbing up and down his length again, squeezing the base where your lips can’t quite reach. That sticky schlucking noise pitches through the still air once more but you’re hardly in any shape to be embarrassed about that, of all things, so you keep at it until copious amounts of drool are running down his cock.
You only grip him tighter when it reaches your knuckles, leaving a bubbling mess across your hand. He’s getting close though, you can tell by the way he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and draws his brows up, pelvis tipping towards your slobbering mouth just a pinch. It has you leaning into your work, pumping your face over his cock so enthusiastically it almost makes you dizzy. Your reward, the pay off, finally comes in the form of his massive hands sliding back to grip at your hair, mindful even in this shuddering state not to pull, and you let him shove you down on him with a delighted little squeal.
The blunt head of his glans bumps against the back of your tonsils and then keeps going, wedging itself into your throat just enough to make you choke. You still couldn’t take all of him straight to the base but you could endure this much, your eyes rolling into the back of your head when he suddenly shoots hot, clumpy ropes straight down your gullet.
“Fuck!”
An undignified, snorting cough jostles you as you force yourself to swallow, working your throat around the intrusion, and that only makes him hiss at the contraction. Callused fingers tremble against your scalp while he holds you in place, shaking through his orgasm, before finally letting you come up for air once he’s spent his release straight into your gut.
You reel back with a gasp, head spinning and fingers digging into the meat of his thighs to try and steady yourself. Ken leans forward almost immediately with a soft coo, cupping your flushed face in his hands so he can tip your head back and kiss you. He moans quietly at the taste of himself on your tongue and you lean into the gesture, happy to be back in his good graces again, but he pulls away much too soon for your liking.
“You did so good, baby. I’m so proud of you for pushing through that.” He murmurs even as you whine at the loss of his mouth, thumbs idly brushing over your cheeks. “I know that was hard but you wanted to make it up to me for your bad behavior, didn’t you?”
At your sad little nod, Ken smiles and pulls you closer so he can kiss your forehead. Your heart gives a soaring thump inside your chest, a smile pulling at your lips despite your best attempts to fight it down. Reservations aside, that hadn’t been half as bad as you’d thought it would be and you were glad for that too.
“You’re gonna’ get a nice little treat for being such a good girl for me when we get home.” He promises in a soft voice that puts you further at ease. “Let’s go ahead and get cleaned up though. Everyone’s probably left us by now.”
All but grinning now, you lean up to accept the last kiss he affectionately presses to the tip of your nose. “Okay, daddy.”
Warnings: pro hero Deku, little sister reader, incest, age gap, coercion, dubious consent, assisted masturbation, cunnilingus, hotdogging
♥♥♥♥
Sitting with his back against the wall, Izuku idly palms himself through his shorts while he listens to the faint buzzing that’s been coming from your room for the last few minutes. A soft but continuous bzzzzt, he wonders if you’re unaware of how easily a sound as distinct as this one travels through the apartment and then, in the same breath, he wonders if you even care. Evidently you were too horny to wait until after he’d gone back to his place to do this so the latter wasn’t entirely out of the question.
Despite what his current situation would imply, he hadn’t actually come home for the holidays just to play the part of a voyeur. Rather, he’d intended for nothing more than to spend some much needed quality time with his mom and little sister and that was all. There isn’t much in the way of days off for a pro hero, especially not one as detrimentally proactive as he was, so he’d gone to great lengths in the weeks leading up to Christmas to ensure he could stay here at least a little while.
It was for the sake of his own sanity as much as sentimentality, but you’d been over the moon to hear the news and he was just as excited to see you for longer than an hour or two, as was often the case when he kept such a busy schedule nowadays. And yet here you were, playing with yourself just in the next room over and he couldn’t bring himself to stop stroking his cock to the sound of it.
It was wrong, no doubt about that. Disgustingly so. This was the sort of thing people got locked up over and definitely not the kind of behavior a hero should be engaging in. But his lack of free time reached as far as his love life too, and his last committed relationship had come to a close almost two years ago now. His last hookup, although only six months prior, felt like so much longer than that when Izuku was just chomping at the bit to sink himself into an invitingly warm, wet hole, and the quiet noises of pleasure you were poorly trying to muffle weren’t doing him any favors.
He’d found that he enjoyed sex a great deal over the last few years as he’d matured and finally finished growing into himself. Maybe he even liked it a bit too much if his current predicament were any indication. In his defense though, if he even had a right to one at this point, the fact you were his sister wasn’t what was getting him off right now. He isn’t some sick freak.
No, it was the way you sounded so goddamn needy.
Tongue glancing over his lips to wet them, Izuku starts to fish his cock out through the slit in his boxers but he stops short at a sudden lack of noise. That quiet buzzing which had initially alerted him was resoundingly absent now and the thought that you might have realized he could hear you makes his skin crawl.
Anxious, he holds his breath for a long moment - just dreading the inevitable pin drop - and then he picks up a soft “fuck” through the wall. The pieces don’t immediately click into place but the ensuing shuffle on your bed, hardly quiet now that you’re frustrated, clues him in soon enough. Your vibrator was dead.
That’s unfortunate.
With a muted sigh, he gently tips his head back against the wall to stare up at his darkened ceiling as you go quiet again. He isn’t sure if you’ve resorted to using your fingers or if you’d given up all together, but he had very little chance of finding out. Not without some telltale sound to fill him in. It was unfortunate but he’d just have to use his imagination to find some relief now that was already stiff and ready to go at it for the next hour, but it would hardly be as satisfying as it otherwise might have been had you remembered to charge the damn thing.
His thoughts start to drift when he questions how often you must use it for it to die like that when a groan so faint he almost misses it filters through the plywood barrier that separates you from him. Izuku goes still and listens closely, his heart wedged in his throat the whole time he waits. Seconds tick by before he hears it again, and this time he notes the desperate quality of it.
So your fingers then. Good to know, but these little breadcrumbs weren’t going to do much for him in the long run.
For a moment, he sits there and ponders the situation while intermittently catching the huffy sounds you were making and that’s what ultimately sways his decision. It wasn’t as if he could just ignore your distress, he tells himself. Not when you were just next door and in need of help.
Help only he could provide, of course.
The sort of help any good big brother would be remiss not to offer his siblings when he was perfectly capable of providing a solution to their problems.
It wasn’t weird or predatory, or anything else like that. This was for your benefit, not his; and he was a hero after all. Offering help to those in need was what he’d devoted his life to. That’s all it had to be. Nothing more and nothing less.
And it wasnt like he was uncomfortably hard in his pants because of the incestuous angle here. That had nothing to do with it, so as long as he doesn’t make it weird it should be fine, right?
Drawing a steadying breath, Izuku climbs out of bed where he takes a moment to readjust himself in his shorts before padding over to the door. It only takes three steps for him to come to a stop in front of yours out in the hall, and he reaches up to softly rap at the lightweight wood. The following few seconds of terse silence almost make him second guess this decision.
Then a wary “yeah?” calls out to him and it’s as if those concerns had never existed in the first place as he decisively swings the door open even though you hadn’t yet invited him to do so.
“Wha - hello?” You squawk, flustered and conspicuously fumbling with the sheets on your bed. If he hadn’t already been well aware of what you were doing, he certainly would have figured it out now.
“Hey, mind if I come in?” He ventures, keeping his tone soft and pleasant to mask the disappointment he undeniably felt at not finding you sprawled out naked on the bed. Either you had a quicker reaction time than he thought or you were shy enough to regularly masturbate under your covers, which would have been indescribably cute of you. He sorely hoped it was the latter.
“I’d rather you not. Get out.” The note of warning in your voice is thick and unflinching but, ultimately, impotent.
“Come on. Let’s talk.”
“Right now?”
Humming in agreement, he steps inside and shuts the door behind him without waiting for your permission, since you obviously weren’t going to give it. That was okay though. He could convince you - show you that this was a good idea soon enough. Luckily mom's room was on the other side of the apartment so he wouldn’t need to rush. A blessing, because that certainly would have made things more complicated than he would have been comfortable with.
“What are you doing?” You demand, clearly aghast at his intrusion. “I didn’t say you could come in, Izu-nii! This is a total invasion of my privacy!”
He smiles at that, just barely making out your embarrassed face where it was poking out over the blanket you’d rather thoroughly cocooned yourself in thanks to the fairy lights strung up around the perimeter of your ceiling. Your room was still so whimsical and sweet, just the same as he fondly remembered it being. You were already in your last year of high school and still hadn’t outgrown your more fanciful interests yet - not that he could really cast stones when there was an excessive All Might memorabilia collection in his but still.
“Sorry, bunny, but I don’t think you were all that worried about privacy when you decided to play with yourself right where I could hear you. Don’t tell me you were actually trying to hide it?”
You audibly choke, struggling to find a coherent response to that when you were clearly short circuiting. Ah. So you really didn’t know he could hear you then. Somehow that made this all the more appealing.
Shuffling over to the bed, Izuku pointedly ignores the way you squeeze yourself into the corner of the wall at his approach and takes a seat on the edge of your mattress. This close he could see the wide eyed look of horror on your face and he smiles, hoping it warms his voice.
“It’s okay, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Everyone does it.”
“Oh my god, stop! I don’t need to hear that from you.”
He pretends to be hurt. “I thought you trusted me.”
“Well, yeah, I do. But - but you’re my brother! Isn’t this kind of weird?”
“I don’t think so. Not unless you want it to be.”
You issue a bothered huff. “What does that even mean? What do you want this to be?”
“I just want to help you.” He isn’t the least bit surprised when you go stock still, so frozen in place that it doesn’t even seem like you’re breathing anymore. Waiting a long moment to see if you snap out of it on your own or not, Izuku finally reaches out to touch your leg over the comforter. “It’s alright, nii-chan’s a pro. I promise I’ll take good care of you.”
Jerking back from him as if his touch was scalding, you suck in a haggard, faltering breath. “Izu-nii … you’re scaring me.”
“No, don’t be scared, bunny. There’s no reason for that.” He soothes, and the concern in his voice is very real. He would never hurt you. “I just want you to feel good, that’s all. It sounded like you were enjoying yourself earlier but then your toy stopped working, didn’t it? I can make it better.”
Cautiously, he grabs for the blanket and pulls, but you fiercely clutch at it while shaking your head. He can’t stand seeing you like this. Especially not when he knew he could bring you far more pleasure than a measly little vibrator ever could, so he tugs harder.
“Let go, bunny. You’re alright. I promise.”
“Izu-nii …”
The wet quality of your voice is the last straw, and he forcefully yanks the blanket away from you a bit harder than he meant to. A frightened little sound bursts out of your mouth, but the fact you’re not screaming for mom tells him everything he needs to know so he sends an appraising look over your naked body where it’s curled up on the bed. You have your thighs defensively squeezed together but he’ll get to that later, reaching out to gently pull one of your arms away from your chest instead.
“Such a pretty girl. I bet all the boys at school want to date you.” Izuku finally manages to get your arm out of the way after a cursory fight about it, and he appreciatively palms the soft weight of your breast in his hand. This earns him a tiny little gasp and he can’t help but smile, wondering idly if you’ve ever known anyone’s touch besides your own. Hopefully his menagerie of rough worn calluses and scars isn’t too much for your inexperienced body to comfortably handle. “There’s my good bunny. But don’t forget, they’ll have to get through me first. I don’t want some scumbag mistreating my little sister, you know.”
Whimpering, you try to twist away but he stays latched to your tit even when you reach up and weakly push at him. He offers you a soft, kneading squeeze that’s meant to reassure before slowly dragging his palm down and then back up to feel the resistance of your tightly coiled nipple under his hand. This nets him a slightly more interesting result in the form of you clutching his arm like a lifeline while you sensitively shake and wheeze under your breath, your resolve weakening from just that much.
Confidence growing, he does it again before carefully pinching the stiff bud between his fingers so he can roll it back and forth between the two pads. You seethe, very quietly, but that's all the encouragement he needs to keep going and Izuku quickly readjusts the position of his hand again.
This time he holds the meat of your breast in a pinching grip to make the delicate tip stand up in the air and he guides it into his open mouth when he bends over your chest. You jolt at the sensation, whining in the back of your throat even as you shudder underneath him and gasp for air. It’s such a pretty sound too, one he isn’t likely to forget any time soon. He’d definitely be revisiting it later when he was back in his apartment on the other side of the city with nothing except his own hand for relief, and he enthusiastically suckles at your teat to draw more of those heavenly noises out of you so he can fully commit them to memory.
“Please, Izu-nii … you shouldn’t do that.” You mewl, making him come up off your tit with a dull pop.
“And why is that?”
“Because -“ You twitch when his tongue flicks across your nipple, bringing a hand up to fitfully, almost absently clutch at his hair. “Because you’re my brother.”
Noising a quiet sound of agreement, he draws your nipple back into his mouth and worries it for a moment before lifting his head again. “Isn’t that all the more reason why I should be the one doing this? No one else will ever take care of you the way I can, bunny. You know that, don’t you?”
He turns his attention to the opposite tit and covers it with his mouth so he can carefully bite down around the areola, just hard enough for you to feel it. The sharp inhale you draw only pushes your chest up at his face, inviting him to keep going, and he happily accepts that offer with a muted groan of pleasure.
As Izuku takes his time lapping at your nipple, savoring the moment, he reaches around to tweak the one he’d abandoned and you slowly start to come alive under him. Your nails dig into his scalp, threatening to draw blood, but he would endure that and so much more just to show you what true heights of pleasure your body was capable of. He wants to hear you moaning for him, sobbing his name in a hushed tone as you cream yourself because of what he’s doing to you. Wants to taste you. Wants to fuck you sensless.
But that would probably be going too far, even he has to admit - and when you start to grow impatient and fidgety he finally lets go of your poor little tit so he can push up and hover over you.
“That feels good, doesn’t it?” He prods, close to being breathless himself. It was a bit hard not to be when his cock was straining hard and weeping precum that he could feel bleeding straight through his boxers at an almost alarming rate though. You were just too beautiful, as a woman, to have any other affect on him. “Do you want me to keep going?”
You hesitate before offering a dazed nod of your head. “I want to cum so bad, Izu-nii …”
“I know, bunny. I’ll make sure you cum as many times as you want, okay?” Softly shushing you, he leans down to press an affectionate kiss to your mouth, your cheeks, the tip of your nose. One peck at a time, he works his lips down the column of your neck and you can’t quite stifle the giggle that rises in your throat when his shaggy hair tickles along the way.
Pleased at how much you’ve come around, Izuku sits up straight and places one big hand across your stomach where he rubs gentle circles into the skin to warm you up a bit. It’s not exactly cold in your room, but it is winter and he would hate to realize you’d gotten chilly at some point. You're pleasantly warm to the touch though and you look perfectly at ease in the dim lighting, so he sedately drags his hand lower to follow the curve of your belly.
But you seem to hesitate when he reaches the plushy crease of your thighs and he pauses, watching you peer up at him in silent contemplation for the span of a heartbeat before you slowly spread your legs for him. He can all but taste the uncertainty coming off you, how shy you are about being laid bare and spread out for your brother, yet that only spurns him on. You really were the cutest thing he’d ever had the pleasure of knowing.
“Do you like playing with your pussy?” He asks, smiling now as he carefully curls his hand around the pudge of your outer labia only to draw a sharp inhale when he feels how soaking wet you are. The sticky mess oozes right through the slit in your body, unhindered, to coat the spot between your thighs in gossamer arousal and it leaves his palm considerably more damp than he’d expected. Even the last hero groupie he’d taken to bed hadn’t been this excitable.
“Mhm.” Your response is hardly more than a whisper.
“Come on, bunny. Use your words.”
“I do.” You whine, not so subtly tipping your cunt up into his hand. “I love to play with my pussy, Izu-nii.”
“Yeah? How do you usually play with it, sweet girl?” He dips one long finger into the meat of your folds, greeted with even more excess slick and a faltering sound of wanting tumbles from your mouth.
“I … I like to rub it.”
Izuku cocks a brow at that, although you can’t see it. “Then why were you using that toy?”
With an impatient huff, you reach down to cling to his wrist, trying to guide him to where you needed him most. “I wanted to cum quick so I could go to bed. You said we could go to the ice skating rink tomorrow …”
He laughs under his breath as he feels around for your clit which he manages to find easily enough, so swollen and puffy from being denied any relief that he couldn’t have missed it if he tried. You go stock still with an almost silent gasp when he lightly rubs across it, idly dragging the delicate nub back and forth to feel the resistance under his fingertip.
“Were you really so horny you couldn’t wait?”
“Always …”
Thinking that he should probably try to fix that (as a responsible big brother, of course) Izuku speeds up the ministrations of his finger just a bit but even that much is enough to have you twitching and spreading your legs further apart for him. A soft moan rises up out of you, stuttering and bordering on delirious so he keeps at it, emboldened by your honest reactions. There was enough juicy slick coming out of you that it eased the friction of his calloused pad pressing down on your clit, making the motion seamlessly smooth and all but effortless on his part. Even if he didn’t know perfectly well how to tease someone’s pussy to vibrating fever pitch, he probably still would have had you creaming in just a matter of minutes for how easy you were making it.
“What’s got you so pent up, huh? Tell me.”
You swallow. Hard. “I dunno’ … just am.”
“There’s no reason?” He pushes.
“No … I just like it. Wanna’ feel it all the time. Want - nngh, I want to cum as much as I can, Izu-nii. It makes my pussy ache if I don't …”
He can’t help but wonder if an insatiably high sex drive just runs in the family because he can certainly relate to that. There was probably a better time and place to explore that train of thought though, and he withdraws his finger in favor of pressing his palm flat against your slit so he can drag his hand up and down the length of it in affectionately slow, even strokes.
“You can always ask me for help, you know. I may not be able to drop everything and come right away, but there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, bunny.”
A wet hiccup as you needily roll your hips into the pressure. “Really?”
“Of course. That’s what nii-chan’s are for.”
Mewling faintly, you slide your hand down off his wrist to desperately grasp at his war torn knuckles instead. This brings a genuine smile to his face, and he alternates to caressing over the apex of your slit so he can stimulate all the nerves in the outer labia as much as the inner, encouraging you towards your peak. Your breathing was quickly picking up now, coming in short, shallow little puffs that go straight to his eagerly jumping cock where it was almost violently straining in his pants. He isn’t sure how much more of this he can withstand until he has to fist himself to relieve the tension and he rubs at you with increasing fervor, determined to watch you shatter first.
“Are you going to cum for me, pretty girl?”
“Uh-huh.” You bob your head in a jerky nod. “I’m gonna’ cum, Izu-nii … don’t stop.”
He wouldn’t ever dream of it, and as if to prove that he brings his opposite hand up to play with your tits some more. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you. Just breathe through it, okay? Come on, bunny … I want to see you cream for me.”
Practically wheezing now, you stretch your trembling legs out and jut your pelvis up to push into the friction. He can feel your nails digging into his skin but he doesn’t give it a second thought, keeping up the pace he’d settled into until your body starts to quake in earnest. Writhing beautifully on top of your bed, you give your heaving body one final twist and the tension visibly snaps, leaving you convulsing with a barely stifled squeal of unmitigated pleasure.
Hand flying up off of his, you smack it across your own mouth as you ride out the tumultuously cresting waves of release, ecstasy so thick and heavy in your muffled voice that it has his cock excitedly drooling all over the inside of his shorts. And he commits every second of it to memory, certain to exhaust this specific moment in time on repeat until it’s branded into the backs of his eyelids, but for now he just drinks in the sight of your shaking body until you slowly start to come down from it one staggered piece of you at a time.
Boneless now, you languorously stretch out on the bed with a satisfied little groan and he approvingly pats your still fluttering cunt, delighting in the sensitive little jolt you give. But if you really did have the same sky high libido as him then he was relatively certain you’d bounce back from that soon enough, and even more eager than before.
“How do you feel, bunny?”
“Good.” You sigh, unable to keep the smile off your face in the afterglow. “Thank you, Izu-nii. We probably shouldn’t have done that but …”
“But?” He prods, confident he already knew the answer.
Looking noticeably embarrassed even in the sparse lighting, you turn your head against the pillow to glance over at the wall. “But I liked having someone else’s hands on me. It felt even better than when I do it.”
Izuku let’s that settle for a moment before deigning to speak again. “Do you want to know how it feels to have someone’s mouth on you?”
You stiffen at that. “D - don’t be ridiculous, I just came! If you do that now - -“
“You’ll get overstimulated?” He cuts across. “Maybe that’s what you need, since your pussy is always so needy. It might help, right?”
Pointedly rubbing his fingers across the apex of your slit to drive his point home earns Izuku a whining little mewl and a sensitive buck of your hips before you try to close your thighs around his wrist. It probably wasn’t fair to use your body against you like this, but he still wanted to help. Needed to help as much as he needed to taste your slick juices on his tongue. He was still doing this with your benefit in mind so surely you would forgive him when all was said and done?
“But - it’s so weird! What if mom finds out?”
“I don’t think it’s any weirder than what we’ve already done.” He says slowly, giving you time to see that he was right about that. “And mom won’t know as long as we don’t tell her. Besides, it’s not as if I’m not perfectly willing. I told you I wanted to take care of you, right?”
You don’t seem to know what to say to that but at last you relent. “Fine … but you have to stop if I tell you to.”
“Deal.”
Izuku is quite certain you won’t even consider that an option once you find out what he can do with his mouth, and he shifts around to crawl up at the foot of the mattress. Once situated, he gently takes your ankles and tugs you down the bed to lay flat, the tiny squeak that comes out of you the cutest one yet. He wastes no time as he eagerly lays down between your thighs so he can press a chaste kiss to the sweet dimple at the top of your slit even as he grinds himself into the bed, groaning softly at the friction.
“You’ll love this, I promise. Just make sure to keep your voice down, okay?” He warns, but doesn’t give you a chance to respond before ducking his head to take a greedy swipe at your sopping cunt. You jump at the sensation, audibly seething through your teeth, and it makes him grin into the meat of your labia.
Nuzzling into you, he slowly works the fleshy lips apart with his mouth so he can slip his tongue inside where he unhurriedly maps out the folds and creases of your body just like he’d done with his fingers, allowing you a chance to warm up for round two. You twitch and sensitively jerk with each savory lick but, as expected, it doesn’t take long at all for you to relax into the sensation. Soon enough, in seemingly no time at all, you’re jutting your pelvis up to push against his face and encourage further action, weakly tossing your head against the sheets with soft little whimpering whines and pleas, and of course Izuku happily obliges you.
Tracing the tip of his tongue up to the apex of your slit, he circles around the delicate pleasure button nestled within for a prolonged beat before finally flicking at it. The sudden contact makes you flinch and draw a stuttering breath but you don’t try to shirk away now that he’s properly going down on you, just as he’d known you wouldn’t. Instead, you actually reach down to card your hands through his disheveled hair and clutch at it, groaning faintly when he buries his face deeper into your pussy. His ministrations start off slow and easy, just like before, while you grow accustomed to the unique friction of someone’s tongue on your sweet little clit and you, predictably, take to it like a duck to water.
Eyes roving up from his spot between your legs, Izuku searches for your face through the shroud of relative darkness. Wants to watch your expression twist and contort in pleasure while he noisily eats you out, slurping and lips smacking, but it’s impossible when you were arching against the bed, back bowed at such an extreme angle that all he can see are your tits jutting up in the air.
It was a lovely sight to be sure, just not the one he wanted to see, and he curls his arms up under your legs so he can grab ahold of unbearably soft thighs, tugging you further down against him. Now that you can’t wiggle away, he flattens his tongue against your swollen pearl and drags across it, tracing nonsensical letters and shapes. You react as if you’d been electrocuted and bolt halfway up off the mattress, desperately covering your mouth with one hand while the other continues to clutch at his hair in a death grip so tight it shakes.
Incomprehensibly aroused by the sight of you already looking so goddamn wrecked, Izuku groans against your pussy and ruts into the bed with steadily increasing desperation. He feels lightheaded and dizzy, and not just from the limited amount of oxygen he was getting. The notion that his little sister's pussy would taste this good had never so much as crossed his mind, and that was to say absolutely nothing of how incredibly receptive it was.
He couldn’t even recall the last time he’d been with someone so sensitive, especially not after already reaching orgasm once, and he leans into his work with the sort of enthusiasm only a man who loves his job is capable of.
Sealing his lips around your clit, Izuku suckles for an extended beat before giving his head a shake. Your muffled groan sounds damn near hysterical as you twist and writhe, thighs trembling against his ears while you alternate between rubbing your cunt on his face and trying to shirk away. He could tell you were slightly overwhelmed with it - to be expected if this was really your first time having someone eat you out - and he eventually decides to give you a moment's reprieve, coming up off you with a wet gulp of air.
“You like that, bunny? You like having your pussy ate?”
You keen very softly. “Izu-nii …!”
“What’s the matter, pretty girl? Doesn’t nii-chan’s mouth feel good?”
With a jerky nod, you tip your face down to look at him. “I love it.” You insist.
His heart gives a muted thump inside his chest. “You do?”
“Mhm!”
His mouth curling in a smile, Izuku presses another savory kiss to the plushy seam of your labia and the way you squirm, wiggling your hips at him in encouragement, has his balls drawing tight against his scrotum. If he wasn’t careful, he really would end up cumming all over the inside of his shorts just from going down on you, which would certainly be an unexpected yet not unwelcome first.
Letting out a slow breath to ground himself, he worms his tongue inside your slit again and swipes up to knock against your puffy clit. A weak convulsion works its way through your body and he does it again, just lazily flicking at the fleshy button until you shake so hard it makes the bed vibrate.
“Izu-nii … please!”
He comes up again, feeling how drenched the bottom half of his face is when the resulting rush of fresh air hits the sloppy mess you’ve made. “Tell me what you want, bunny. All you need to do is ask. You know that.”
But you hesitate, struggling to get the words out despite a handful of aborted attempts that leave you stammering in the dark. Izuku has nothing but patience for you though, and he offers your pussy another soft kiss while you try to get your thoughts sorted and organized into something coherent. He could imagine how hard this probably was for you, inexperienced and needy beyond all measure just as he’d been at the same age yet torn with the taboo of it all. But then, at length, you manage to find the confidence to speak.
“Can you - please do that thing again? When you pulled me against you …”
Izuku goes over a quick mental replay of the last few minutes. “You mean when I was digging my tongue in?”
“Yes.” You say it on a slow exhale, so quiet he could almost miss it.
The smile that curls his mouth feels more like a smirk this time, and he’s glad you can’t see it with your hands shyly covering your face. “Oh, you liked that? Did it make your pretty pussy feel good?”
“Really good …”
Inching towards smug, he casually readjusts his hold on your cushiony thighs before squeezing down, fingers digging into plushy skin as he yanks your pelvis right up against his face. You let out a soft yelp at the sudden jostle and then choke on it when he buries his face in your pussy, diving right in for the attack with near reckless abandon.
Once again flattening his tongue to your clit, Izuku grinds down more purposefully this time and you go ramrod stiff underneath him. Your muscles seem to lock up for a dizzying moment, completely overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught of sharp, gooey friction, and then you snap out of it with a heaving jerk, wildly thrashing against the bed. He’s got you figured out now though, knows what it is you seem to like, and he holds your hips in place with the unwavering strength in his hands no matter how much you buck and writhe. You’re wild against him too, like something mindless and untamed, but even your fitful twisting is no match for him.
Eventually pausing to lash at your clit, he batters it back and forth for a moment to make sure you aren’t getting too complacent with the alternative before tilting his head to one side so he can go at it from a different angle. It seems to take every ounce of willpower you possess not to scream in pleasure as you practically rise up off the bed, pulled by some invisible force, and he can tell when you start to get close by the sudden rush of sticky slick that absolutely floods your cunt. The heady taste of you grows stronger, pleasantly cloying and just this side of bitter. It’s probably the best thing he’s ever tasted and Izuku feels every hair on his body stand on end, eyes starting to roll back as you desperately hump his mouth in search of release.
He feels when the tension finally snaps just as much as you do, and he gives his toes a tight squeeze to keep his own orgasm at bay while you convulse much more violently than you did the first time. It’s a miracle you manage to keep quiet at all for how uncontrollably you seem to spasm, heaving through it with tiny, gutted little sounds that reverberate inside his skull like ping pong balls while your thighs quake around him. He can’t shake the feeling that you’re probably plenty vocal when given the chance, deciding in a far off, dreamy sort of way that he’ll have to invite you over to his apartment sometime soon so he can hear it for himself.
Now, however, Izuku can hardly think straight as your desperate convulsing starts to slow, and he pushes up to sit back on his haunches, letting your splayed legs fall uselessly to the bed at his sides. He’s never been more glad for elastic waistbands as when he shoves his boxers half of the way down, positive he never would have been able to navigate a button and fly in this muddied state of mind. He was going to bust whether he wanted to or not, so he’d be damned if he didn’t get his money’s worth out of it.
He reaches for your calves then and your still lolling head comes up with a snap, flusteredly squawking when he bends your legs up in the air as alarm registers across your dazed expression. “Izu-nii - -!”
He doesn’t stop long enough to hear you out - can’t stop when almost all of his immediate brain functionality was devoted to simply holding back his own release for as long as he physically can. Your weak protests don’t even register in his intoxicated mind and he effortlessly folds you in half, bending your knees to your chest so he can dock his throbbing cock along the plushy seam of your pussy, letting out a stuttering groan when he realizes how big and thick he looks in comparison to the dainty little slit below. Would he even fit if he tried?
“Wait -!” You gasp, tone rising in pitch to match the uncertainty reflecting in your big wet eyes. “You can’t - -“
“Shh. It’s okay, bunny.” He soothes even as his hips rock forward on a stiff, carefully measured thrust that has him gliding through your drenched folds. “I won’t do it. Just - nghh, I just want to feel you like this …”
You swallow so hard he can hear your throat working over the pounding in his ears, but you do relax somewhat and for that he’s eternally grateful. Izuku could hardly even comprehend how your pudgy little cunt lips looked so right hugging around the girth of his cock or how easy it is to fuck himself along the crease when you were so unbelievably soaking wet. The view of you sprawled out underneath him, bent up like a pretzel with your fascinated attention zeroed in on what he was doing is what ultimately sends him over the edge though - he was just so desperate to cum that he couldn’t hold out any longer and he issues a seething groan into the otherwise quiet room as he shoots hot, clumpy ropes across your stomach, your chest and even your face.
The fact you actually open your mouth to catch some of the milky discharge very nearly makes him pass out on the spot.
“Ohh, shit!”
He catches the face you make, his jizz apparently a lot saltier than you’d expected it to be, but that was already more than enough for him. That bridge could be crossed later, when he wasn’t actively cumming so hard his soul was trying to leave his body, and he lets out a husky, stuttering moan as his hips give one final jerk before coming to complete halt. He realizes he’s panting in the aftermath, and he starts to ease up on your legs while he sucks in a steadying breath to calm himself. He isn’t entirely sure how he got so caught up in the moment like that, and doubt starts to creep in almost immediately.
“I’m sorry.” It’s the only thing he can think to say.
“It’s okay.”
He shoots you a concealed look from under the fringe of floppy hair that had fallen over his eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I liked it.” You tell him quietly, no doubt embarrassed to admit that when his semen was cooling across your skin, but then in a stronger voice you add “But you’d better buy me a snow cone when we go to the ice skating rink.”
Izuku hangs his head between your knees, trying very hard not to laugh and failing miserably at it. “I’ll buy you anything you want, bunny. That’s what nii-chan’s and hero’s are for, right?”
"When I made a little mess on it, he told me to clean my act up."
♥♥♥♥
The irritated click of his tongue makes you go still and you sit upon him, frozen to the spot as you involuntarily quake through the lingering tremors of your orgasm. You can’t even think straight anymore. Torn between absolute, mind numbing pleasure and the intrinsic fear of that which goes bump in the night, all you can do is hold your breath while you wait for the pin to drop.
“Now, pet. We talked about this.” Disdain oozes from his poison coated mouth, the perfect rouge for a beast of his caliber. “Yet here you’ve gone and made another mess even after I told you what would happen. How pathetic.”
Equally beautiful and cruel, Sukuna reaches down to lay his palm flat across the soft pouch of your lower belly. His lips curve upward when he feels the persistent but gradually weakening flutter of your guts, then bares fangs when you whine for him. So pretty and helpless, and all his for the taking. Such a doll.
And you can hardly keep yourself upright as you sway atop his pelvis, dazed and unsteady. Wrecked beyond repair just like all the other little playthings he’d had before he found you. But his stiff cock wedged deep inside your body seems to be the only thing supporting your weight anymore, so he gives the muscles in his loins a tight squeeze to make it jump and push against the gummy upper wall that was already stretched right to its limit.
Your reaction is stunning when you lurch, pretty eyes going wide and unfocused as you drop your mouth open in a silent scream. This pleases him, of course. A great deal in fact.
But not enough to overlook your transgressions.
“What did I say, sweet girl?”
You swallow your nerves. Try to get your bearings straight. It’s hard though - oh, it’s so hard for you to piece together a semi coherent thought when you were soaring but you push through the fog and claw your way out on the other side with a stuttering inhale that makes your chest hitch.
“No cumming,” You finally croak.
“Until?” He prods.
“Not until … til’ you give me permission to.”
Humming in thick approval, Sukuna curls his thumb low enough to tease over your swollen clit in slow, featherlight strokes. You still suck in a haggard rush of air as if he’d just sucker punched you, mewling like something wounded and on its last leg. Needily, your hips buck into that brief contact like you hadn’t just felt the rush of relief not even five minutes ago but this pleases him too, in a way. It meant you were still malleable and receptive.
“And what did you do, hm? Did I give you permission to cum?”
“N - no.” A numb shake of your head. “I’m sorry, master. I’m sorry.”
He grins at the unshed tears in your voice, so wet and choking it’s a wonder you’re able to keep them at bay. Your eyes glisten with them though, like polished gems of a rare quality that he would just as soon pluck from your face to admire later as swallow them whole for a tasty snack. You were the most delectable treat he’d sampled in a few too many lifetimes.
“Hush now. What’s the point in crying over spilled milk?” With a low groan, he presses the rough pad of his thumb into the apex of your slit and pushes up to lift your labia. This not only leaves your poor little clit on display, flushed dark and straining, but it also reveals more of the gossamer slick spill you’ve coated him in. The flat plane of his pelvis shines with it, his dark pubic hair visibly damp and matted thanks to that excitable pussy of yours, and he noises a small sound of pleasure at the sight of it. “Or would crying over your sloppy cunt be a more apt metaphor? You’re soaked, darling. I had no idea I was taking in a filthy slut as much as a filthy stray. Getting off on a demon's cock? Really now.”
“Mm’sorry …”
Withering under his sharp, stabbing gaze, you tuck your chin down as if to try and shirk away, to hide from him. But your cunt seems to have a mind of its own and you tip your hips up in obvious invitation, squeezing down on the thick cock sitting heavy within you.
Quickly, he brings two hands up and latches onto your middle, forcibly holding you in place. “Enough.”
You let out a blubbering sound that’s half sob, half scream. “Please, master! I need it!”
“You haven’t earned it,” He warns. “And that’s what got you into trouble in the first place. If you’re so desperate that you can’t even properly warm my cock then perhaps we should revisit the basics of your training.”
Your expression reflects instant horror. “No!”
Sukuna cocks a brow at that and you rush to amend yourself, stammering over your excuses, but he has no more patience for it.
Reaching up, he grabs a biting fistful of your hair and yanks your head back so forcefully your blabbering cuts off with a sudden gurgle. He holds you like that for a long moment, admiring the arch of your body in this position, the jut of your tits and the ragged quality of your breaths before deigning to speak again. “I told you, didn’t I? If you can’t do as you’re told then I will make you. Would you like to try again?”
You attempt to nod, but quickly realize it’s a lost cause when he’s got your neck wrenched at such an unforgiving angle. “Yes, master, I do. Please. Please give me another chance …”
He pretends to think on that for a moment, delighting in the fear that quakes through your body. “Fine. But don’t squander it, because I won’t be half as lenient next time.” A pause. “Now, how about you clean up this mess first?”
Goodness, I am not having much luck with this one. I somehow (??) lost the ask and I don't know if I accidentally deleted it or if Tumblr ate it, but then when I tried to get on my laptop to see if I could recover it somehow my internet went out. 😭 Luckily Google docs was there for me in my time of need so I can still post the fic. This request was for Nanami + consensual daddy kink + spanking. Thank you to the anon who sent this in and I hope you like it!!
♥♥♥♥
The firm weight in Nanami’s pants presses into you from behind - straining, searching, prodding against your panty clad cunt until you finally give voice to the groan that claws at the back of your throat. It rises in pitch and takes on a desperate edge before petering off into a high strung, whimpering plea which he promptly ignores.
Taking the back of your neck in hand, he pushes you down to lay out flat across the bed. Gentle but stern in the way he gives you no leeway, no chance to back out, forcing your body to bend under his steady guidance or risk incurring an even greater punishment from him.
He doesn’t need to threaten you or get loud. That silent promise alone is enough to make you comply.
Positioned on your stomach like this, you were completely exposed. The silk tie wrapped around your wrists to keep them folded at the small of your back is just the cherry on top when you had your ass in the air, feet still planted on the floor to leave you defenseless and vulnerable. Already naked, save your panties. You were completely at his mercy.
“Sweetheart,” he croons, sounding genuinely regretful as he drapes himself across you to put his mouth close to your ear. “You know it didn’t have to be like this. Why didn’t you listen, hm?”
The tickle of warm breath against your skin makes you clench. “Wanted you …”
You sound pouty and belligerent. Whiny.
It really is no wonder that Nanami doubtfully hums in response. “What did you want from me, angel? Come on. Tell me.”
You consider keeping that to yourself for an all too brief moment, but another slow roll of his hips against your backside pulls the truth out of you.
“I … I wanted your attention, daddy. That’s all.”
“Oh?” He doesn’t sound the least bit surprised. You don’t miss the tinge of disappointment in his voice but he certainly isn’t surprised. “Well, you’ve got it now, don’t you? Are you happy?”
His hand finds your back, making you jolt only to let out a faint mewl when he merely rubs across your spine in slow, soothing strokes. This anticipation was its own special brand of torture.
“N - no, mm’not …”
“And why is that?”
You lick your lips. “Wanted you to fuck me, daddy.”
The sudden sting of his opposite palm swatting across your ass shocks a yelp out of you.
“Language. I thought we talked about that, little one.”
“Nnghn, mm’ - mm’sorry daddy … I forgot.”
You were just digging an even bigger hole for yourself at this point.
“It seems you’ve forgotten a great many things today. Your behavior has been deplorable.” Sighing, Nanami straightens up to tower over you. “Didn’t we just have a discussion about the rules of this house not that long ago?”
You shudder at the loss of him, fighting down the urge to squirm on top of the bed. “Yes, daddy. We did.”
“And you told me you understood them, isn’t that right?”
“… yes.”
Tentatively, Nanami touches a hand to your upturned behind and you twitch at the contact, staying otherwise still while he drags that rough palm across your skin in slow, circular motions to warm up the nerves. It was an insidious gesture, comforting enough to make you relax into the feeling even though it would only make it hurt worse once your punishment began. He was almost too well suited for this role.
“Were you lying?”
“No! I wouldn’t lie to you!” It was the truth.
He draws a slow, carefully tempered breath. “Then you purposely disobeyed me? Is that what I’m hearing?”
You hesitate. It was true, of course, but you were ashamed to admit it outloud. If not because your ass was on the line in the most literal sense then certainly because you didn’t want him to be upset with you.
Perhaps you should have thought this through a little bit better.
Nanami doesn’t give you much time to think about it though and the flat of his hand strikes again, harder this time, to make you gasp. “That was a yes or no question. Answer me.”
“Yes! I purposely acted out so you would pay attention to me, daddy, I’m sorry! I promise I won’t do it again! Please don’t be mad at me!”
Wordlessly, he moves to position himself at your hip and you tense when long, dexterous fingers slip into the waistband of your panties. He tugs at the fabric, pulling it upward to make it stretch taut and mould tight to plushy cunt lips. The pressure brings with it shockwaves of static electricity and drags you up onto your tiptoes until you just can’t go any higher.
Only then, only when your ass is as far in the air as it will go does Nanami curl his hand in the thin cotton to secure his hold on it. You realize quickly enough just how cruel this action truly is on his part when it forces you to stay in place, on the tips of your toes, or endure the cutting friction of cotton digging into your soft pussy. All it would take is the slightest falter in your legs.
“Nnghn - daddyyy - -!”
“Don’t whine, sweetheart. I’m afraid you brought this on yourself but you’ll think twice next time, won’t you?”
You don’t get a chance to respond, to beg, before the flat of his hand connects with your ass again. Lurching at the burst of splintering pain, you heave and try to breathe through it. That effort is entirely in vain though, his hand much too big and his swing much too powerful, and you wail when he delivers two swats in quick succession.
“Now, now,” Nanami coaxes when you try to slouch away, pulling at your panties to bring your ass back up. “Take your spanking like a big girl. You earned it, didnt you? Besides,” another blistering smack. “This is hurting me much more than it’s hurting you.”
Zoro + consensual + (going to shoot my shot) breeding kink/creampie (ps I adore you 💓)
I adore you too, lovely bunny. I hope you like it! 😘
♥♥♥♥
Zoro grunts against the outer shell of your ear, sending a vibrating tremor through your cotton stuffed head when he cums again. It was the second time in half an hour and certainly not the last. But he refused to hold back when he got you alone like this, tucked away together in a rare moment of privacy on the cramped single bed you’d rented for yourself and (secretly) for him. You already knew he would keep going until exhaustion inevitably won out in the end, more intent to savor the rush of release than drag it out, and you softly keen at the spread of sticky warmth flooding your cervix.
He was truly making a mess of you, evidenced by the obscenely loud squelch that rises between your bodies when he pulls out to let it all ooze and dribble down the cleft of your ass. You’d probably need to request a fresh set of sheets at the rate you two were going.
“Fuck,” he seethes, pushing up on an elbow just enough to reach down with the opposite hand. You tip your chin to watch Zoro grasp himself and smear the bubbling, creamy discharge across your labia with the head of his cock, whining in the back of your throat while he does it. There was so much. “Look how bad I needed this. Look at how bad I needed you … god, I feel like I could just keep fucking you all night long.”
You don’t doubt he could with his stamina, and you bring your hand up to gently wipe at the beading sweat on his brow. “Maybe you should drink some water first … I don’t want you to get dehydrated.”
His one good eye focuses on your face, as hazy and obscured as it is, to take in the sight of you all flushed and hot, spread out underneath him. The languorously slow grin that spreads across his mouth inspires a weak little pitter patter inside your chest, your smile quickly mirroring his.
“Don’t care,” Zoro mutters, laying himself out on top of you once again so he can shove his face into the crook of your neck. The hand not clutching his cock worms it’s way between your back and the mattress, pressing you so close that it was hard to tell where one of you stopped and the other began. “Just wanna’ keep filling up that cute pussy. Want you to leak with me for the next week.”
You can’t stop your breath from catching. “Z - Zoro - if you do that I’ll - -“
“I don’t care.” He insists, taking a lazy nip at your neck.
The pressure of blunt teeth bends you to his will embarrassingly fast and, head lolling on the pillow, you allow yourself to bask in the sensation of his cockhead drawing nonsensical patterns through your slick coated folds. It felt like you were absolutely drenched with it and he was only on the second round.
“You just drive me crazy. Can’t stand it anymore. No one else could ever make me cum like this.” Growling against your sweat damp skin, Zoro lets the tip catch at your entrance and he slowly starts to sink in again. “Damn!”
You gasp, mewling at the hard weight of him slipping and sliding against your guts. Penetration is made smooth by virtue of the sheer amount of semen he’s already pumped into you but that doesn’t stop the burning stretch from being felt. Your toes curl even as you bring your arms up to wind around his broad back, clutching at hard muscle while he spears you straight down the middle.
“Think I wanna’ breed you for real this time. Make you mine from the inside out. Don’t want anyone else sniffing around you, if I can help it.”
A low, petering groan tumbles out of him when he comes to a shuddering halt with the firm expanse of his pelvis pressed tight against the plushy give of yours. The two of you stay frozen like that for a long beat until the slow roll of his narrow hips pulls a faltering sound from the very depths of your twisting lungs.
“And you’d look so good, all swollen and heavy for me. Nnghnn, just thinking about it is gonna’ make me bust again … you drive me wild, y’know that? You really, really do.”
Zoro quietly seethes as he pushes up again, bracing on his hands so he can watch your expression pinch in ecstasy when his thrusts pick back up. He takes it slow this time, just sedately pumping in and out of your slicking cunt at a tortuously staggered pace that leaves you writhing underneath him, trying to choke back your moans but failing miserably at it. He was just too much. Both in the physical sense and in the things he was saying to you with that deep, rumbling tone of his.
You were steadily creeping towards the edge of oblivion.
“Y - you - ahhn! Really mean that?”
“I do.” He emphasizes this with a particularly sharp snap of his hips to make you toss your head back, crying out for him. “You’re mine. I don’t want anyone else to ever touch you. Or even look at you. And I won’t stop until you’re completely full, ngghn - haagnnghh … you’ll be able to feel me sloshing around inside you for days by the time I’m through. I promise you that.”
You shudder against him so violently it forces a wheezing, sucker punched noise out of him, your pussy wildly contracting around the thick intrusion in a palpitating flutter. The thought alone was damn near enough to send you spiraling and you desperately cling to him, struggling just to breathe through it.
“Please, aahhn! Zoro, please! I want you to - to give me your cum. All of it! I wh - want it all!”
“You don’t need to ask for it.” He grits, hunching further over you. “I’ll gladly give you everything I have and then some.”
(I’ve loved and enjoyed your content since like.... 2018 and you deserve all the followers and more!!❤️)
For the 1k word request: 1. Eustass Kidd 2. Dubcon 3. Degradation/humiliation
It genuinely blows my mind that anyone would stick with me so long and I'm 😭emotional, okay? Thank you so much, lovely! I can't put into words just how much I appreciate you and I hope you like the fic!
♥♥♥♥
“Wait.” You gasp. “Please.”
He doesn’t wait. Has no real reason to - not when you were one of many spoils from a successful night of plunder and his for the taking in the most literal sense.
It was only natural, wasn’t it, for a pirate to claim what he wanted for himself, be it gold or women or rum, and not mind any protests he might encounter along the way. Surely you weren’t so naive as to think he would stop, just like that. Just because you’d asked him to with those big wet, pleading eyes.
You looked like a kicked puppy, and a rather pitiful one at that, but Kidd had never liked dogs all that much to begin with. Maybe that’s why he felt so compelled to rub your nose in it.
“Don’t look at me like that. You should be happy I was the one who found you, y’know.” He tells you lightly, almost conversationally. “If it had been one of my men, you’d be crying for a completely different reason right now. But if I’m not to your liking I guess I could let them fight over you instead …”
He’s pleased to see you fervently shake your head, warbling lip catching on unforgiving teeth. So that pretty head of yours wasn’t so empty after all.
Grinning, Kidd finishes tearing your dress down the middle in a series of quick, shredding rips. You twist against the rope keeping your hands tied together and yank at the steel hook he’d secured them to but it was useless. No amount of struggle would get you out of this now.
“Just look at you, all plump and soft. I bet they’re kicking themselves in the ass as we speak. You look like you were born just to be bred by every single man you’ve ever come into contact with.”
He lets his hand descend on the swell of one breast, laughing when you jolt and whine at the contact. Giving it a tight, pinching squeeze, he avidly watches you try to turn your face away, wanting to hide in the crook of your shoulder, but it was useless when you were spread out on the floor like this. You were completely at his mercy.
“Would you like that? Huh? Wanna’ be a sweet little cum dump for me and my crew? I’m sure they’d appreciate having a nice, wet hole to take their stress out on. And with these hips?” Snickering, Kidd roughly drags his hand down off from your breast and delivers a sharp smack to the meat of your upper thigh. “I know you’d make a fine mother. How’s that sound? You’d look good with a few brats hanging off those big fat tits of yours.”
“Nuh - no, please don’t!” You all but wail, screwing your eyes shut. “I’ll do anything you want just … please, don’t let anyone else touch me!”
“What's that? Are you saying you’re fine with it as long as I’m the only one using you?”
“… yes.”
It’s barely more than a mouse squeak but that one word is enough to make him laugh again, louder this time. And you positively quake when he slides his massive hand between your legs, palming at your little pussy with ease. He can see how torn you are, the struggle between giving in or fighting as clear as day and etched across your face in broad sweeping brush strokes. You didn’t want this. That much was obvious.
But were you really prepared to sacrifice your dignity for the lesser of two evils?
“I want to hear you say it. Tell me what it is you want.” It sounds like a growl coming from his mouth, just as mean as his fingers that press into the apex of your slit and rudely grind down.
The indelicate friction has you twitching for him, loudly bleating like something wounded and on its last leg. You thrash again, pointless though it may be, but he still doesn’t miss the way your thighs flex around his wrist and minutely cant up into the pressure.
It was almost as interesting as the damp spot slowly bleeding through your panties.
“I … I don’t know what to ss - say!” You finally manage to blurt. “I just … nnghn, please, I - I don’t want to be passed around like that!”
“Then tell me what you do want.”
Kidd presses down harder and you choke on it, eyes taking on a dazed, far off quality. “Haahn, I - I … mm, I want you to use me for … for stress relief, sir.”
He adjusts his hand to roughly pinch at your poor little clit through thin cotton. “That’s not what you should be calling me, is it?”
Seething, you imploringly glance up at him from under the fall of moisture thick lashes. “Kuh - captain! Please captain, please! Please take me! I want you to have your way with my slutty body and do whatever you want to me. I only want you, captain! No one else!”
He noises a brief sound of approval. Grabs at your underwear, tugging them halfway down your trembling thighs so he can properly get at what’s between them, but you don’t fight it and the copious slick that greets him catches Kidd off guard.
He can’t help but wonder if this wasn’t as much of an act as you were making it out to be when your pussy greedily takes one of his thick fingers without much resistance. A second quickly joins the first, making you wheeze as if you’d been sucker punched. Taking his time slowly pumping them in and out, he watches your face pinch in what can only be pleasure. Evidently you were going to be more fun than he’d thought.
“You’ll have to show me why I should keep you then.” He murmurs. “I’m not usually in the habit of keeping pet whores on my ship.”
You force a tremulous smile. “Y - Yes, captain. I’ll be a good cum dump for you.”
Wow! Never in a million years did I think so many people would be interested in my writing and I’m genuinely blown away by the support I’ve gotten through all the ups and downs of this blog. I’m indescribably thankful for each and every one of you, and when I saw how close I was to this milestone I decided I wanted to get my shit together and do some kind of celebration event with you guys. Details are outlined below so please feel free to give it a quick read and send something in! But most importantly: THANK YOU!! You guys are the best and I wish I could personally give each of you a hug!
🥺💕
Rules:
Since we’re celebrating 1000 followers, I will be doing 1000 word requests
As this is a NSFW blog 18+ only, please
I will be turning anon back on for the event
Per usual, I will default to a female reader unless otherwise specified
To avoid any confusion I’ve made some lists so please use these as an outline to build your request around! Think of it like a create your own sandwich kinda’ deal 😆
Dark content is allowed
1: The Bread (a.k.a, what I’ll be writing for)
Dr. Stone
Fire Force
Hero Academia
Hunter x Hunter
Jujutsu Kaisen
Naruto
One Piece
Pick a character from one of these titles! There isn’t anyone I just flat out refuse to write for but only one per request, please, unless you go with a poly scenario in which case pick two.
2: The Meat (a.k.a, how do you want it)
Arranged Marriage AU
Boss/employee
Canon compliant
Consensual
Dubcon
Enemies to lovers
Established marriage
Friends to lovers
Incest
Modern AU
Noncon
Poly
Pseudo incest (stepfather, stepsister, etc)
Teacher/student
Vampire AU
Yandere (I’ve never written this kind of thing before, but I’m interested in giving it a shot!)
Pick your vibe! More than one is fine where applicable. (ex. 'consensual pseudo incest' )
3: The Secret Sauce (a.k.a, what’s your kink)
Age play
Anal
Bondage
Blowjob
Cheating
Cunnilingus
Daddy kink
Face sitting
Femdom
Food play
Humiliation/degradation
Kidnapping
Knife play
Lactation
Master/slave
Medical play
Mommy kink
Orgasm control
Overstimulation
Period sex
Pet play (cat, dog, pig, etc)
Power imbalance
Pregnancy
Public sex
Rimming
Somnophilia
Spanking
Watersports
This isn’t a comprehensive kink list by any means and you’re more than welcome to shoot your shot with something I didn’t include here. The only things I absolutely will not write are scat, bestiality and vore.
Here’s an example of what your request might look like:
Bakugou + yandere + knife play
Or
Hisoka vampire AU with orgasm control
In the end I like to think I'm pretty flexible so if there's something I overlooked that you'd like to request, just let me know and I'll see what I can do as long as you follow the general outline! I’m at a pretty good place for this event and I decided to go with the 1000 word count specifically so I wouldn't get overwhelmed. This should also make wait times for fulfillment shorter, which is always a bonus. lol I'll leave the inbox open until July 16th, a week from now, and will make an announcement before its closed again to give everyone a chance to send something in.
And as always, thank you for all your love and support! You guys really are the best and I hope everyone has fun with this event, even if you decide not to participate. 🥰
Don’t mind if I do with your follower celebration requests 😌 Congratulations, by the way!! I’m super happy for you.
As for the request, may please ask for Mr. Toji Fushiguro from JJK + pseudo incest + breeding (with an extra side of filth, like your Jiraiya fic, that was really great btw)
Please and thank you, queen 💖
Thank you so much, baby!! I hope you like it! 🥰
Toji’s rough fingertips feel like a brand on your skin, so searing hot they leave the mark of him in their wake. You always tremble and whine so pretty when he touches you like this, just as any good girl should for her big, strong stepfather, but you still don’t know what to do with it. Don’t know what to do with this.
The only thing you understand with any real certainty is your role in this house, trapped between this man and this wall, as if you were born just to fill this space for him. Because it isn’t for your benefit that he puts his hands on you where he ought not to be touching. It’s not for your benefit that he effortlessly hauls you up in his arms so he can tease that fat, leaking cockhead along your slit. It’s all him, him, him -
“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” His breath tickles the outer shell of your ear. “You wanna’ be a mommy, don’t you?”
There you go mewling for him again. “… ss - someday.”
A hum of condescension accompanies the nuzzle of his face into your hair. The deliberate nudge against your tight, not-so-virginal cunt to threaten you with penetration but not enough to sink in just yet. No, not yet.
Clearly he wasn’t quite ready to finish breaking you in.
“Someday, huh? That’s a shame, seeing as I could make you one right now.”
With a put upon sigh, Toji rolls his hips forward to repeat the action. He manages to catch at your entrance this time and you gasp, bracing for the burning stretch, but it never comes. The blunt head of him merely slips and slides through petal soft folds, jutting upward to bump against your clit and make you jolt.
His laugh, low and husky, tells you this was no accident but purposely orchestrated.
The muted throb of disappointment you feel deep in your twisting gut assures you, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you were well beyond the point of saving.
“Hmm, wouldn’t that make you happy? Don’t you want to make me a daddy again? I’m sure Megumi would like having a little sister …”
You try not to think about how you were supposed to be his little sister while your stepfather ruts against you in staggered slow motion, purposefully dragging his stiff cock through the wrinkle of pudgy, honey dipped lips. The friction makes your toes curl, and you deliriously cling to him. What was right and what was wrong anymore? You’d long since lost the ability to tell.
All you could believe in at this point was the borderline painful ache between your legs and the gravelly words that tumble from his charmingly scarred mouth like sacrament. Toji was all you had now.
“I can already see you, so soft and round for me. My sweet baby girl all heavy with a baby I put in her.” He punctuates this with a sharp snap of his hips, cock spearing through fleshy folds and creases to make you frantically claw at his shoulders with a high pitched, keening sound. “Tits fat and leaking everywhere. Asking to get fucked every time I turn around. You’ll be begging for me to put another lil’ monster in you by the time I’m through with you, y’know that?”
He laughs when you issue a low sound of wanting and tip your head back for him. Growls when he opens his mouth wide over the pulse point in your neck, leisurely nipping at you like a beast testing the fragility of cornered prey. You could hardly think straight anymore. Didn’t even really want to think anymore.
The only thing you wanted was him, always him. Not any of the boys your age. Not anyone else who was old enough to be your father. Just Toji and his -
Blocky teeth sinking into your throat.
“P - please!”
Grunting in thick approval, he hunches further over you. Pins you more securely against the wall so that it feels like you’re being well and truly smothered under his sturdy, suffocating weight. “Please what, angel? Tell me what you want.”
It’s obvious he knows, but he wants to hear you say it.
“Want your cock … wanna’ have your baby, Toji.”
“Do you, now?”
You jerk your head in a quick nod and he breathes out the puff of air you hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. Shifts against you, adjusting his hold on the ripe curve of your ass to better hold onto you as the tip of him finds your slick hole again. But it doesn’t slide away this time, poised and ready, while he teases a feather light kiss to your mouth. You felt like you were coming undone in the most literal sense.
“Then shouldn’t you call me by the right name, sweetheart?”
“Ngghn, daddy! Put a baby in me, daddy, please. I promise I’ll be a good mommy. I promise!”
“Shh, I know you will, sweetheart.” He practically snarls against your lips. “I’ll make sure of that.”
The sting of his cock finally sinking into you at long last seems to gut you from the inside out. You can’t help writhing in his arms, just as something small and helpless caught in a steel trap, but he doesn’t stop even when you cry for him. Doesn’t pause to let you adjust when salty tears track down your face and you struggle just to pull in enough air.
He was going to break you.
And he knows it, viciously huffing and puffing against your face like the big bad wolf as he finishes bottoming out inside your churning guts. You were left skewered. Trapped, with nowhere to go. It was too late though. Much, much too late and you whimper when he nuzzles at your nose in parody of a comforting gesture, cooing as if he really cared.
“It’s okay," Toji murmurs. "I’ve got you. Daddy won’t let anything bad happen to his sweet little breeding bitch.”
“Don’t worry,” A pause while you draw a carefully tempered breath. “You won’t.”
Katakuri sends you a slow look and it’s obvious he wants to insist that, yes, he will accidentally hurt you if given the chance. So much so it’s almost funny, especially when coupled with the edge of frustration creeping into his eyes. He seemed to genuinely think he was incapable of handling you with care but you knew that wasn’t true.
Smiling, you reach out to gently place your hand on his arm. Chorded steel muscle twitches at the contact, still so unfamiliar to him, but he doesn’t pull away and for that you were eternally grateful.
“It’s okay.” You softly assure him. “I trust you. I know you wouldn’t intentionally do anything to hurt me.”
“But what if - -“
You shake your head and inch even closer until you were practically sitting in his lap. It still wasn’t enough though. You wanted so badly to feel his skin against yours that you could almost cry with it.
“If it’s an accident then that’s okay. We can deal with it together, right?”
Even still, he hesitates. You can see Katakuri’s interest is peaked in the way his expression pinches and his cheeks flush an endearing pink. He wanted to do it, craved the friction of two bodies just as much if not more than you did, but he couldn’t trust himself with something so much smaller than him. You were minuscule in comparison. Fragile and delicate.
Clearly you would have to try a different approach.
“What if I’m the one doing everything? Would that make you feel better?”
He visibly grimaces at that. “I don’t want to be selfish. You deserve attention too.”
“It’s okay.” Climbing to your feet, you put your hands on his massive chest and carefully push at him. Of course he doesn’t budge. “I just want you to feel good, that’s all. I won’t get hurt. Promise.”
Slowly, Katakuri complies. Lies back against the plush pillows and sheets on his oversized bed, and you follow him down. He’s so large under you that you can’t even properly straddle him, but that’s okay.
For a prolonged moment you contentedly kiss your way from broad barreled chest to sternum, mapping out the planes and dips of his body. He wavers at the imploring look you eventually send him, seems to think about it and then finally gives in.
Thick fingers curl into the shock of fur hiding the lower half of his face to tug it down but he can’t quite meet your gaze now. His focus was awkwardly diverted off to the side like he was waiting for the pin to drop. For you to change your mind at the sight of his split open, sharp toothed mouth, but you only feel a flutter of warm affection in your heart. He was so handsome.
The kiss you press to those thin lips startles him and he noises a brief sound of surprise when his attention flits back around. You offer him another smile before leaning in to do it again but Katakuri doesn’t know what to do with it, his mouth warbling under yours in uncertainty. Pulling back after a moment, you sit up on his chest.
“How was that?”
His lungs stutter. “Feels good …”
Your body is light with helium as you start working your way back down his abdomen one peck at a time. He watches you go lower and lower with a sort of thrumming anticipation that proves oddly infectious, and you’re all but vibrating by the time you reach his pants.
He slowly helps you peel them off, caught up in the moment now and mesmerized by what you were doing to him. His cock slipping free pulls a quiet groan from the back of his throat and a stifled ‘oh’ out of you. He was even bigger than you’d imagined.
“Oh,” you say it again, because your brain has suddenly stopped functioning. “This part of you really is wonderful, isn’t it?”
Katakuri issues a faint whine in response and, pussy eagerly throbbing, you bring both hands up to paw at him. He excitedly twitches and leaks at your touch, his breath growing ever more shallow while you experimentally tug on it. Alternating between massaging along the shaft and pumping your fists in steady rhythm, you quickly find yourself panting right along with him.
You needed to feel him moving against you so badly.
It doesn’t take long for your resolve to weaken and you cautiously stand up on the bed again so you can slip out of your dress. His hands visibly clench the sheets when your undergarments follow suit, the look of wanting on his face so wretched you would have done anything to alleviate the strain he was feeling.
But when you climb up onto his hips and start to lower yourself, he sucks in a sharp breath. “Wait - -“
“It’s alright. You’re not going to hurt me.”
Brows knitting, he watches you sit down on his cock with bated breath and your weight presses it flush to his stomach. Lashes fluttering at the sensation of your pussy on him, he gives a little jolt underneath you. Just enough to nudge and bask in the doughy pressure.
The glide of your slit along his straining length is made easy by the juicy quality of your cunt. You were drooling so much slick because of him that it doesn’t take long at all to have Katakuri absolutely coated in it. Every fleshy swell, each throbbing vein. You could feel everything and he responds in kind, sensitively heaving with each drawn out drag of your hips. He looked like he was still holding back but you were just happy to see him enjoying himself like this.
He was almost delirious.
“Haah, I’m … I’m - -“
You weren’t far off behind him. “Go on … let me see you cum, Katakuri.”
Warnings: cunnilingus, scissoring, first time (wlw experience)
A/N: Some of my best works were written out of spite. That's a joke, I was actually thinking about writing for Perona already but I'd REALLY like to write something for Yamato. I just ... don't know if I have the balls for it 😅
♥♥♥♥
Glossy layers of pink - a pink so soft and rich in the way sugary gumdrops that melt on the tongue are - sweep across the pillow in a delicately curling halo. The mass of it shifts and catches the light when she looks up at you. From under the petal tip fringe of her hair and through the enviable fall of luxurious lashes, her dark eyes glitter with the zeal of polished gemstones. She was somehow both coquettish and endearingly bashful at the same time; both eager and shy at being laid out on the bed like this, and you don’t try to hide your smile.
Couldn’t have even if you’d wanted to.
“Is this your first time?”
Perona arches underneath you, pushing her bare chest up in invitation. You gladly accept the offer and reach out to cradle the weight of one full breast, earning a sigh of satisfaction from her.
“Yes.” It’s little more than a whisper in the quiet hush of her bedroom, so very, very late at night.
But this was her domain. The place in which she was most comfortable and at ease so the two of you were free to explore one another here, in the plush indulgence of her bed, just as curious nymphs might out in the deep, secluded wood. It was fitting for her, this woman of perfect porcelain and cotton candy, and translucent specters. She looked every bit the part of a fairy princess and you think, idly, that such a title would be suited to Perona almost as much as her ghost princess epithet.
She coos so sweetly for you, too, when your mouth brands a hot trail of kisses down her stomach in taunting slow motion. It was obvious where you were headed and it was obvious she knew it. Her breathing shallows out, coming quick and short now while she moves against the sheets, against you, like a gently cresting wave.
Your first taste of her, an exploratory kitten lick through satin folds, is as divine as taking a bite from the ripe red apple of Eden. As intoxicating as the wine served at the last supper.
You groan into the silk cradle of her body and Perona responds with a stuttering mewl of her own. Delicate hands find their way to your hair, tugging you into action even though you could hardly deny her anything, least of all this thing that you wanted just as badly as she did.
“God, you smell so good.”
She whimpers faintly at the stilted breath you draw to savor her and truly taste her on your palate. Your cunt offers a muted throb in response, aching for her as much as you hoped she was aching for you. But your tongue still takes its time lapping at her in the same way a fine brandy is meant to be appreciated, slow relish and at a staggered pace, until she’s writhing against your mouth with muted pleas tumbling from her carefully painted lips of rose.
Perona peaks surprisingly splendidly fast.
Perona, you quickly come to find, is a sensitive pillow princess befitting of the title.
“You should do that again,” she murmurs, all sultry and blissed out once she’s caught her breath again. “You’re good at it.”
You can’t keep the grin off your face now.
“I’ve got something even better for you.”
She looks at you in a way that would suggest she can’t imagine anything would be better than having her pretty little pussy ate. You could already see the pout forming on her mouth, practically hear the huffy demand she wanted to issue for you to continue as she’d asked, but you weren’t lying to her. It would feel good and you were going to make sure of that, for you were as devotedly loyal to her pleasure as any good subject should be.
A brief shuffle to rearrange yourself soon finds your legs intertwined with the creamy white of hers. Perona catches on quickly enough, though her baby doll face continues to reflect a certain amount of doubt even as she nudges closer to slot her pelvis into the space between your thighs. She looks at you with that same sheepish anticipation as before, fine strands of bubblegum clinging to her skin where it’s damp with sweat, and you offer her a slow grind of your hips by way of explanation.
Her puffy cunt is almost obscenely slick with the vicious mix of fluid you’ve left in your wake, making the glide of your slit against hers smooth. Your chest tightens when you see those voluminous lashes flutter at the sensation and you do it again. The drag of pudgy lips rubbing together is exquisite, the darker hair on yours a stark contrast to her pink. A true sight to behold and it only heightens all your senses to the point of delightful agony as you tip your head back with a groan, certain you’ve been bewitched somehow.
Such an ability did not seem out of the question for someone such as her.
“O - oh …”
Perona sounds surprised and it’s a charming color on her. Emboldened, you push down on her with more fervor to make those delicate thighs twitch and splay further apart for you. Still, though, she does not move to reciprocate the effort and, still, you do not mind.
She’s so drenched that you find yourself equally sticky in just a matter of moments, the excited discharge that leaks from you blending with hers to create the perfect amount of easy friction. And Perona is alive with it, desperately twisting her hips up into the pressure before finally succumbing to the throes of release yet again.
Eventually, you ease back to give her a moment's respite and the gossamer threads that stretch and snap between your cunts pulls a haggard moan out of you. She would be the end of you at this rate and you were quite certain she’d be fine with that.
A/N: I'm having a hard time deciding which song is my favorite on Doja's new album but its a toss up between You Right, Need to Know and Alone. What about you? : )
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For all your earlier bravado, you can’t quite bring yourself to look Sanji in the eye now and you anxiously shift on top of the bed. It felt like your face was moments away from catching fire.
“Is this really okay?” You ask meekly.
“Of course it is.” Sanji looks up at you from his spot knelt on the floor, smiling. “If you’ll do me the honor, I mean.”
“Does something like this actually feel good though?”
“It can.”
Reaching out, he delicately takes your ankle and guides the foot attached to it towards the front of his pants. You let him do it, shyly watching from the corner of your eye as he slowly presses your arch against the straining tent there, and you swallow. Hard.
“Especially if you’re the one doing it,” he continues, attention focused on the way black slacks and the weight inside them mould to the curve of your foot. “Any part of you would make me feel good, darling. Your thighs, your armpit, the bend of your elbow. Each inch of you is a blessing.”
Sanji issues a dreamy, almost wistful sigh at that and you giggle even though you try not to.
“That’s going a bit far, don’t you think?”
Glancing up through the fall of dark lashes, he hunches further over your leg and rolls his hips forward in lieu of a proper response. The push of his stiff cock against the center of your foot makes your toes curl, and you suck in a stilted breath. It was an odd sensation but not an entirely disagreeable one.
“It's the truth.” He murmurs. “There isn’t a part of you I don’t like. You’re true perfection …”
He trails off with another slow push of his hips and an accompanying grind, huffing out a quiet sound of tense pleasure.
Emboldened by the display, you experimentally curl your foot around the weight of him and push down. Sanji’s breath hitches, barely audible, as you massage your toes into what you think is the base of his cock before dragging it up to the tip. You watch his expression closely while you do it but his mouth only parts, dark brows drawing inward.
“You really like it?”
“I love it.” He groans softly.
Pausing, you nibble on your bottom lip for a moment.
“But … wouldn’t it feel better without your pants on?”
He tilts his face up, dark eyes glimmering with adoration for you and you alone. “You’re sure?”
At your nod, he eagerly reaches around with his free hand to fumble with the button on his slacks. His zipper is next, and you shudder faintly at the slow zrrrt of its descent. You were used to hearing that sound right before he brought you unimaginable pleasure and your pussy responds in kind with an excited clench, but this wasn’t about you.
This was his treat, and you smile when Sanji’s cock slips free to jut proudly up in the air. The glans was already damp with a sticky smear of precum which glistens ever so slightly in the overhead light. The veins running along it seemed more pronounced too, giving away the true extent of his arousal, and you gladly let him redirect your foot to press against bare skin now.
He’s relentlessly stiff under you and a grunt slips out of him when your toes trace the length of his cock in taunting slow motion from the head down to the base. You could clearly see the effect it was having on him, far greater than you would have ever imagined prior to this, and it is with a great deal of delight that you curl your foot around the shaft.
“Oh, darling … that feels so good, so good.”
It’s awkward trying to pump him like this, inexperience making your motions sloppy and uneven, but he doesn’t seem to mind it.
Avidly, Sanji watches you for a prolonged beat before slowly letting up his hold on your ankle. He leans back to brace his hands flat on the floor and nudge his pelvis a little higher to give you a clearer shot at his cock and you quickly bring your other foot forward to hug around it from both sides.
The groan that bursts out of him sounds sucker punched.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” Letting his head roll back, he grunts at the ceiling and the sound is reflected in an excited jump of his cock. “You’re amazing, you know that? Nngh, perfection incarnate …”
You’re sure that’s going too far but you can’t deny the warm satisfaction you feel in your chest. With a lick of your lips, you bring one foot up to rub your big toe across the glans and smear more sticky precum across it. He absolutely shakes at that, his sighs and quiet groans rapidly taking on a desperate, frazzled tinge to them.
Scooting closer to the edge of the bed, you push down so that his cock is pressed flush against his lower stomach. This allows you a better leverage point from which you can massage up and down the length of him, alternating between using your toes and the arches of your feet. He doesn’t appear to have a preference, chin tucking against his chest to watch what you were doing with a dazed, slack jawed expression.
He really was a needy thing when on the receiving end.
“Darling …”
Hips twitching, Sanji starts to slowly thrust in time with your feet. The sounds coming out of him rise in pitch, becoming whiny, and you trail one foot lower to poke at his ballsack where it’s half spilling out of his fly. A shudder ripples through him, his face reddening alarmingly quick as he sucks in a series of sharp, choked off breaths.
You watch, fascinated, when he finally gives a jerk and shoots hot ropes across the front of his shirt, idly hoping the stain will come out.
A/N: Doja Cat's new album drops in a few hours, make sure to give it a listen! : )
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Stammering, Usopp backs up into the wall hard enough to elicit a solid thunk from the plank wood. His eyes were so big and round that you would almost believe he’d seen a ghost if it weren’t for the fast rising tent in his pants.
“W - wh - wha - what are you - -“
You step right up to him. Crowd into his space, pressing your chest flush to his, and that alarmed stuttering immediately cuts off with a half stifled squawk. Both of you go perfectly still for a tense beat in which you study his reddened face and he just stares back, flabbergasted. You were so close you’d be able to steal the air from his lungs if only he would dare to breathe.
Then, you smile.
“You don’t want to?”
“I … I d - do, I guess, but …” He swallows his nerves, so forcefully you can hear his throat working. “Do you?”
Laughing, you bring your hands up to tentatively place them on his waist. The stiff shudder that works through him at the contact has you giggling again, quieter this time. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to.”
“Fair enough.” He croaks.
“So …” Fingers trail lower to play with one of the snaps on his suspenders. “Is that a yes?”
He shoots you a pained look. “... yes.”
Offering a hum and an inviting bat of your lashes, you unhook the clasp from his pants and then move to the other. His breath noticeably hitches, growing quick and shallow, but he makes no move to stop you. Just keeps watching with that hazy look in his eyes, as if he couldn’t bring himself to believe that this was really happening.
It was rather sweet of him, if you were being honest.
Oversized bottoms sag forward as soon as they’re free of the suspenders hold and, sliding your fingers into the hem, you drag them down with you when you kneel. The motion drags the loose straps up across his chest and over his shoulders to hit the floor behind him with a noisy clatter. A stricken groan promptly bursts from his mouth, but you’re not sure if it’s because the sound startled it out of him or if it’s because his cock springs up in the air mere inches from your face.
Regardless, his jaw hinges open and dark brows knit together in something not unlike agony. His hands abruptly slam against the wall at his sides, palms flat and blunt nails digging into unyielding wood while he looks down at you like you were the living embodiment of salvation itself. Already so hungry for you. So needy.
Drawing a slow breath, you glance between his pinched expression and his bobbing cock. “Wow …” you murmur at last. “I didn’t think you’d be so - big.”
Usopp sucks in a haggard, almost frantic gasp. “I’m sorry - -“
“I’m impressed.” You cut across him with a salacious grin, settling more comfortably on your knees. “I wasn’t expecting a mouthful but I’m not complaining. Have you ever done this before?”
He hesitates. Looks like he wants to puff his chest out and tell another fib, but he can’t quite seem to find it in himself.
“No …” It’s little more than a whisper.
Pleased with his honesty, you turn your attention back to Usopp’s cock. It twitches at suddenly having your focus again and a fat, eager bead of precum quickly gathers at the tip. The length of him is dark and smooth, and so ridiculously stiff that you’re sure it has to be uncomfortable for him.
Slowly, your hand comes up to test the weight of his ballsack with a gentle nudge and he jolts so hard the wall rattles. You can’t quite stop from giggling as you cup the weight of his testes and cradle them in the curve of your palm, drawing another groaning heave out of him. He couldn’t seem to decide if he wanted to screw his eyes shut and focus on what you were doing to him or if he wanted to watch while you did it, rapidly alternating between blinking down at you and tipping his head back in relish.
You quickly decide you can’t refrain from teasing him just a little bit.
“You’re so manly down here …” You pur, giving him a careful, kneading squeeze. “So thick and heavy. I’m sure you’d make any girl happy after just one night together.”
He hisses through his teeth. “Please …”
“Do you want to make me happy, Usopp?”
“Yes.”
His cock gives a sensitive jump when he says it and you watch, fascinated, when sticky precum oozes from the glans on a glistening thread. Whining in the back of his throat, he tips his chin down to regard you with a desperate look of wanting and you lock eyes with him as you lean forward to catch the dribble on your tongue before it can plop onto the floor.
The noise that comes out of him is so strangled, bordering on hysterical, that you can’t keep the grin off your face while you follow the bitter trail right up to the underside of his cock. Your tongue presses flat against the ridged head, inspiring a low moan when the flavor overwhelms your tastebuds like a potent ambrosia.
Apparently losing the battle with himself, Usopp pries his hands off the wall and grabs at your head. He’s gentle but jumpy about it, and his fingers tremble while he tries to figure out how best to cradle your skull in his big palms. Rising up, you catch the tip of him with your mouth in silent encouragement, spurring him on.
He immediately lurches, urgently shoving you further down his cock. You let him do it with a delighted little mewl, lips stretching around his girth and eyes rolling back. Gingerly, Usopp holds you in place while he shoots hot ropes down your throat with a high pitched, keening moan, and you’re only mildly surprised that he doesn’t collapse right then and there.
Warnings: established relationship, cunnilingus, brief mention of breeding/pregnancy implication, piv sex, creampie
A/N: I really did not think I'd finish this and yet, months later, here we are. I said I wanted to do Ogun's hair for him so that is exactly what I did. 😤 A LOT of research went into the first half of this fic, I can't even tell you how many braiding videos I watched or how many haircare blurbs I read through, so if my ignorance shows I really do apologize. I can barely do my own hair let alone someone else's and I put in a lot leg work for about 5 paragraphs of relevant information. lol Best boy deserves it though, so please enjoy!
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The quiet drone of the TV against the far wall was the only source of noise in the small apartment and neither of you were paying any attention to it. Hadn’t been for the last few hours, but that was how most wash days went. The background chatter was superfluous at best when you had all of your attention zeroed in on your boyfriend's hair and Ogun was pleasantly dozing at your feet, lost in his own little world of pampered bliss.
It did, however, serve its purpose in helping you better keep track of the time. If left to your own thoughts, you would have all too easily slipped into the same comfortable lull as him and forgotten about everything else you had to do. Like think about food, for example.
Briefly glancing up at the sound of cheesy sitcom music, you mentally check off another half hour. It was starting to get late which meant he’d probably be starving by the time you were done and that wouldn’t exactly come as a surprise given you’d been at this for the better part of the day. All that hard earned muscle mass of his certainly wasn’t going to maintain itself.
And, now that you were thinking about it, you were starting to notice the creeping pang of hunger in the back of your mind, buzzing faintly like an incessant afterthought.
Drawing a breath, you start to ask if he’s in the mood for anything in particular but Ogun manages to beat you to it.
“What should we do for dinner?”
You smile to yourself, fingers deftly moving through his hair with practiced ease -- under, scoop, under, repeat -- while you give that question some thought. Surely there was something you could whip up with what you had on hand in the kitchen. The real question, however, was what.
Doing a quick mental checklist of your cupboards, you rapidly narrow down your options. A fast and easy pasta dish was out of the question without the sauce or any ingredients to make it with. No meat for hamburgers. There was still some salad mix in the fridge but he needed something far more substantial than that. Damn. You should probably go shopping soon.
“Hmm,” Gently tilting Ogun’s head forward, you pick back up on the half finished braid you were working on. He was almost done, with only two rows left to go. The argan oil and shea products you’d put in his hair left your fingertips feeling buttery smooth and soft, their lingering smell as warm as it was soothing. It permeated the air in the living room, enclosing you both in your own little bubble for two and making for an altogether pleasantly relaxing Sunday afternoon.
“Let’s see …” You murmur at length. “I could probably make a stir fry with some vegetables and shrimp. How’s that sound?”
“As much as I love your cooking,” He shifts on the floor and glances over his shoulder, forcing you to pause what your fingers are doing. “I was thinking we could order in tonight. My treat.”
Your smile grows even when you try to ignore the unmistakable flutter in your chest. “Oh? And what’s the occasion?”
“There isn’t one.” His mouth curls up, mirroring yours. “But if you need an excuse, consider it thanks for doing my hair.”
“That’s sweet of you, but I’m not finished yet.” Placing a hand atop his head, you pointedly turn him around straight again and Ogun laughs, very softly, when you release him so you can get back to work.
You enjoyed getting to do this for him and the fact you liked playing with his hair was no secret either. It was wild and thick, very close to being untamable, but it was also incredibly healthy -- something you would have all too happily taken credit for if it hadn’t been in the same enviable condition as when you’d first met him. That he trusted you enough to let you do this was, perhaps, more intimate than anything else you’d ever done together, and with a few more twists you put the finishing touches on the braid.
Letting it hang next to the others, you direct him to lean back so that you can easily reach the front of his hairline again. He acquiesces without a fuss and sinks into the couch, letting the back of his head settle comfortably in your lap. Ogun’s shoulders brush your knees when you hunch closer with a pink rat tail comb in hand and you’re acutely aware of him watching you as you begin sectioning out the next row. You start to smile again, even though you try not to.
“What?”
“I’m still waiting on an answer.”
You shoot him a quick look.
Golden eyes gleam back at you, reflecting endearment and humor alike, and you quickly focus in on his blown out, fluffy hair again before he can successfully distract you. “I don’t know. You pick.”
“Nope.” He hums goodnaturedly. “That’s not how this works. You can’t just push it back on me when I asked you for a reason. Tell me what you want.”
“I really don’t know - hey!” You squawk when he gives the back of your calf a sharp pinch in retaliation for being so uncooperative and you squirm, giggling. “Don’t do that! I’m honestly not sure what I’m in the mood for.”
“Then think about it.”
“I am.” You intone, gently pushing Ogun’s head forward just enough to get at the crown of his head. Relative silence claims the room once more while you consider an almost endless list of potential choices and finish up the second to last braid. Thankfully without any more pinching attacks on his end. He was going to look so nice when you were done.
“What about a pizza?” You suggest at last.
“I’m game.” He murmurs, slouching to the side so he can rest his temple against the plush cushion of your leg. It gives you the perfect angle to attack the final strip from and you get to work weaving coarse strands into his preferred fashion, your fingers moving quickly but efficiently. You’d practiced tirelessly just to ensure he wouldn’t have to go to someone else for this without skimping on the finished product's quality and it certainly showed.
A few moments later, the task is complete.
Grabbing an elastic band, you gather Ogun’s styled hair into a neat little ponytail and tie it off at the back of his head. You finish up by running your fingertips across one shaved side of his scalp, affectionately feeling out the new growth before deciding he can go another week or two until you have to bring out the clippers again.
“Alright. You’re all done.”
Lifting a hand to feel over his hair, he twists around and peers up at you with an expectant grin. “How do I look?”
“Like the most handsome man in the world.”
Ogun positively beams. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Leaning close, you press a brief kiss to his smiling mouth. “What sort of pizza do you --”
He cuts you off when he suddenly pushes up on his knees and catches your lips again.
Your eyes go big when broad hands find the meat of your thighs and gently squeeze them while he kisses you much more impassionedly than you’d kissed him. A sound of surprise rises in the back of your throat but he quickly swallows it, making your heart race.
Heaving a quiet sigh through your nose, you lean into the gesture and meet him halfway, eagerly kissing him back.
Grinning knowingly, Ogun tilts his head and slots his mouth more securely over yours to deepen the exchange. You find yourself slowly melting against him and you bring your hands up to grab onto his shoulders. God, he was unfairly good at this. Not that you were complaining, but a polite segue from one topic to the next would have been appreciated. You’d been thinking about dinner, what sort of toppings you wanted on your pizza, and now you were thinking about …
You groan, very softly, when his palms drag up along your sides, bunching the cotton of your t-shirt in the process. It allows for the briefest skin on skin contact and an eruption of goosebumps spreads across your body, as anticipatory as they were impatient.
Lips parting, you grant him access and Ogun jumps at the chance, eagerly sweeping his tongue into your mouth to lav yours with warm, wet attention. The smooth, flickering strokes he graces your palette with inspires a flood of molten heat in your gut that leaves you wanting more. Always more. It was never enough where he was concerned - and you slide one of your hands higher still to tenderly cradle the curve of his skull.
Much to your whining disappointment, however, he pulls back a moment later to give you some space and you whimper at the loss.
“Ogun …”
“Shh. I’m right here, baby.” He whispers, leaning back in to press a quick peck to your lips before doing the same to the corner of your mouth.
It’s not enough to pacify you though and you loop both arms around his neck, trying to pull him back in again. He obliges with an affectionate nuzzle, pressing close to settle against your lap and pin you to the back of the couch under his sturdy weight.
“What's wrong, sweetheart?”
You pull your mouth in an imploring pout. “I’d like for you to finish what you started.”
He laughs, sweet and boyish as he pulls back to fix you with a big grin. “Oh? And have I ever left you wanting?”
“No, but I’d hate for you to start now.” You sound a little whiny. Needy.
Another quiet laugh and Ogun comes in to kiss you again, much more sedately this time. His soft lips mold seamlessly to yours, working against your mouth at just the right speed, with the right amount of pressure to steal the air from your lungs.
You let loose a soft moan as you arch underneath him and push your chests together, basking in the fleeting contact despite how unsatisfying it is. What you really want is to have his body working over yours without the impediment of bothersome clothes in the way. To feel the chorded steel muscle he’d worked so hard to build flexing and driving into you.
A shudder ripples through you when the thrumming desire that wells inside slithers out from between your legs to ignite the rest of your body in heated flame. An all powerful compulsion which you wouldn’t have fought even if you could.
His mouth still working in tandem with yours, Ogun gives your waist a possessive squeeze and it sends a fresh wave of sharp arousal racing down your spine. You whimper, pushing up into him a little harder, more fervently, as you clutch at his shoulders. The need to have him laid out on top of you has taken over your higher functioning mind, all thoughts of pizza long gone out the window as the velvety push and pull of his mouth draws you further under his spell.
Willingly, you surrender to the exigent summons and curl your legs up around his narrow hips to tug him even closer, urging him into action.
A hot puff of air fans across your face when he abruptly disengages from the kiss, moving to press his lips against the apple of your cheek, your jaw. There’s a noticeable haste in his actions now and you turn your head to give him better access, exposing the vulnerable line of your throat to his seeking mouth.
Ogun wastes no time and immediately swoops in, pecking his way down the column of your neck with an occasional love bite here or there for good measure. Each one seemed to make your toes curl that much tighter to the point where you could hardly stand it anymore.
“You play dirty …” You mumble, lightly running your nails across his nape.
“Mm, how so?” He sounds distracted and preoccupied, too busy mouthing at your pulse to pay it any mind.
“You told me to decide on dinner …” You trail off when he latches onto the juncture of your neck and shoulder, immediately succumbing to the tantalizing suction Ogun applies with his lips. You let out a soft, faltering groan, brows furrowing in pleasure when it makes the simmering heat in your gut double and then triple as teeth sink into delicate skin.
Shuddering, you deliberately wrack your brain in an attempt to finish your train of thought but that proves much more of a struggle than you’d been prepared for.
“But … nngh, but now all I want is you …”
He comes up at your somewhat dreamy admittance, a mischievous look camping out on his face even as big hands push at the hem of your shirt. “Oh yeah? Anything you want in particular, sweetheart?”
Lifting your gaze, you peer up at Ogun from just a scant few inches away. The shallow rise and fall of your chest has no doubt clued him in that he’s got you all worked up now but you aren’t exactly trying to hide it. He already knew just how weak you were for him, knew precisely how well your body always responded to his advances, so there really wasn’t any point in pretending otherwise.
You were powerless against his undeniable charm and he seemed to get just as much enjoyment out of that as you did. And looking at him now you think, not for the first time, that you just might be the luckiest girl in the world.
“Let’s start with that talented mouth.” You murmur, reaching out to take his smooth jaw in hand and pull him, grinning, into another kiss.
Noising quietly against your mouth, he leans further into you until it feels like you’re being pleasantly crushed under the hard, muscular weight of his frame. It only serves to get you even more riled up, now well and truly desperate to feel his bare skin flush against yours as you roll your hips forward and drag your clenching pussy across the front of his pants.
Lips parting on a heady groan, he returns the favor by slowly thrusting his pelvis forward so you can feel the stiff outline of his cock caressing your clothed slit. You keen at the sensation and cant your hips into the pressure, the two of you gradually picking up a steady, unhurried rhythm together that damn near drives you wild.
Hands staying busy while he sedately humps you, Ogun patiently works your shirt up higher and higher until it’s bunched under your armpits. Reaching around for the clasp of your bra, he gives it one good tug and the satiny soft material loosens around your shoulders with a near silent slither. Bringing his hands to the front again, he shoves the cups up out of the way before letting them descend on soft, pliant breasts that seem to fit just right in the curve of his worn palms. Giving them both a gentle squeeze, he kneads your chest until you groan and tip your head back, breaking apart from the kiss in favor of sighing up at the ceiling.
He takes that opportunity to dip his face close and press an open mouthed kiss to the center of your sternum while he carefully squeezes your tits in a pinching grip. It makes you shudder, wishing you could clench your thighs and ease the growing ache there, but that’s impossible when he’s slotted between them like this. You have no choice but to endure the thrumming tension and you squirm underneath him, needily bucking up to meet the next thrust of his hips with a frustrated little groan.
“Ogun,” You gasp, letting your fingers scrabble to grab hold of his black t-shirt and tug on it. “I need you. Now.”
Bringing his head up, Ogun allows himself a moment to drink in the wanton expression on your face while he cups his hands around your breasts almost reverently. “How do you need me, baby?” He mumbles, letting his thumbs brush over your stiff nipples in a feather light caress. “What do you need?”
“Your mouth …” You whine, practically choking on it.
“Where do you need my mouth, huh? Tell me.”
“On my pussy.” It’s more a plea than a statement and you shake for him even as the words leave your mouth.
Ogun shifts against you and bends down, mouth opening wide over the pebbled peak of your breast. You watch on, mesmerized, when the pink of his tongue darts out to lap at the fleshy bud before sealing his lips around it and suckling. Your eyes slip shut as you arch, pushing your chest up to meet him while your fingers cling to the cotton of his shirt. Ogun doesn’t linger long though and he soon comes up off the first with a dull pop before catching your other nipple between his lips.
Briefly worrying it, he slides his hand forward to tweak the spit lathered bud between thumb and forefinger, making you outright seethe. You give up on getting his top off with an impatient little huff and bring your hands down to grasp at his arms instead. The firm, wiry muscle under his skin offers little give no matter how hard you squeeze or dig your nails in, and he remains ever unperturbed, casually sucking the tip of your breast to stiff, throbbing attention.
“Please, Ogun …”
With a faint hum, he comes up off your chest and presses a quick peck to the puckered nipple. “I know, baby. I know.” Moving back to the first nipple, he kisses that one too. “Just be patient, alright? You know you don’t have to beg me to go down on you …”
You groan at the velvety suggestion and tuck your chin down to pin him with an imploring look. Ogun offers you a lopsided grin in return, pinching both your nipples between his fingers and carefully tweaking the sensitive flesh until you outright gasp. You feel like you’re running on autopilot now as you reach up to sandwich his face between your palms and pull him into yet another kiss, lips crashing together with an intensity that makes your pussy flutter.
His mouth parts against yours, opening wide as if to swallow you whole, and all the while he keeps plucking at your tits until they’re aching almost as much as your neglected cunt. You couldn’t take it anymore ...
Tightening your legs around Ogun’s waist, you dig your heels into the small of his back and draw him right up against you so you can feel the hard weight of his cock digging into the spot where you need him most. A frazzled, high strung wail claws its way up the back of your throat as you jut your pelvis up and rub yourself against that thick, pulsing heat in search of some relief but very little is forthcoming like this.
He pulls back at the sudden friction though and issues a faltering groan that seems to echo off the walls for as quiet as it is. “Shit … you really want it that bad, baby?”
“It’s your fault …”
“I know, I know.” Bending close, Ogun presses a hard peck to the center of your chest. “And I’ll take responsibility for that, don’t you worry.”
Lower he trails, slowly kissing his way down your fluttering stomach as his hands come around to unbutton your shorts. The zipper quickly follows suit and then he’s tugging them down your thighs while you eagerly twist to help get you undressed just that much quicker.
Thoughtlessly tossing them aside, Ogun reaches for your panties next but he’s much more subdued in removing these. One torturous fraction at a time, he carefully pries the thin cotton away until they’re low enough to expose your puffy slit to the air. He lets out an appreciative noise of approval when he sees the sticky mess you’ve made along the seam and your heart pounds in your ears as you draw your legs up so he can slip the dainty cotton the rest of the way off.
He discards them somewhere on the floor, probably right alongside your shorts, before palming your bent knees. Gently, Ogun eases them apart so he can peer down at your sticky cunt with an unconcealed expression of hunger.
“Look at you, baby. Just look at this pretty pussy, already so wet for me.”
Smoothing big hands up along your bare thighs, he bends close and presses his mouth to the apex of your mound in a surprisingly chaste but hungry kiss. Digging your fingers into the couch cushions, you enticingly wiggle your hips at him and gold eyes flash at you from between your legs, amusement and something much more dark shining within them.
You feel his lips eagerly curl against you then, and he shuffles closer to the couch so that he’s hunched directly over your prone body. Hooking long fingers under one of your legs, he hauls it up and over his shoulder before repeating the process on the other side. Grabbing big, grasping handfuls of your hips, he uses his hold on you to drag your lower body just to the edge of the seat, making you squeak at suddenly finding yourself completely vulnerable and laid bare. Your pussy clenches tight in anticipation though and you tremble, drawing a steadying breath when he pecks at the soft swell of your inner thigh, warm breath puffing against your skin.
There was no denying that he had you completely at his mercy like this and you would have been lying through your teeth if you said that didn’t excite you.
“Comfortable?”
At your nod, Ogun leans forward just enough to bend your legs towards your chest and fold you against the top of the couch. He settles on his knees and dips his head down, mouth parting so his tongue can take a quick swipe from the bottom of your gushing cunt up to the top. The sight of it has you groaning for him, your vision swimming as you force yourself to keep watching.
That proves exceedingly difficult when he presses in close, making the meat of your pussy lips squish and mold against his face. Slowly kissing at you to work them open with his mouth, he flicks his attention up to regard your face and you practically vibrate on the cushions. Another swipe of his tongue hits its mark, wetly knocking your clit, and you let loose a seething mewl.
“O - ohh! Yeah …”
Ogun’s fingers dig into your twitching hips to keep them spread while he takes his time slowly swirling around that sensitive pleasure button. He starts at a wide breadth and then gradually works his tongue in tighter and tighter circles until he’s finally grinding it into oblivion. The soft, gooey friction of his mouth is enough to have you wheezing in pleasure as sweat beads, unnoticed, along your lower back and you arch, making your tits jiggle with the motion.
“Right there … don’t stop!”
Issuing a low sound of agreement, Ogun opens his jaw wider and drags his tongue straight up through your slick, juicy folds. You can feel every little thing - every nerve ending and every meaty bit of flesh that tries to cling to the textured muscle and your legs jerk at the sensation.
Tossing your head back against the couch, you blindly reach down to grasp his knuckles in a death grip. “Ah, haah … feels good ...”
In lieu of a proper response, he tilts his head and attacks your thrumming clit from a different angle. He’s relentless, mercilessly battering that delicate little pearl back and forth with such fervor that it leaves you quaking under his attention, struggling just to breathe. You’re not sure how much more of this you can stand, the threat of tipping over the edge before you can even fully enjoy it looking like a very real possibility now, but then Ogun seals his mouth around the fleshy nub and sucks.
Hard.
“Oh!” You choke on a haggard, stuttering gasp of pleasure, lurching underneath him.
Confidently humming, he comes up off you with a dull pop and a sticky breath of air. “Looks like you’re already getting close.” Ogun murmurs, sounding really quite smug about that.
Never one to leave you hanging though, he crowds one of his hands between your legs and presses blunt fingers into your slit. Finding your throbbing clit again, Ogun starts to rub it in fast strokes made smooth by the viscous mix of saliva and arousal that absolutely coats your pussy and this time you practically shriek.
But he refuses to let up on your poor little cunt just yet. “Please what, baby?”
You twist, thighs flexing and going ramrod stiff around his head. Your vision was starting to blur around the edges, reflexive tears prick at your eyes. It’s hard just to think straight let alone form a semi coherent sentence when he’s relentlessly rubbing your clit with roughly calloused fingertips like that, the friction almost too much to bear and quickly riding the line of overstimulation. You couldn’t handle much more of it.
“Pl - please put your dick in me! Please! I wanna’ come on your cock, Ogun! I’m buh - aaah - ah! - begging!”
A low, rumbling groan rises up in his chest but, still, he doesn’t stop. “I thought you wanted to come on my mouth?”
“I - I changed my mind!”
He grunts, deep and primal in his acknowledgement, and the sound races straight to your throbbing cunt.
You respond with a broken groan, only to nearly come right up off the couch when he withdraws his fingers and replaces them with his mouth. Supple lips part and work you open again so he can worm his tongue into the crease of your body. He delivers a series of taunting flicks to the straining bud hidden within, making you sensitively twitch, before dragging the flat of his tongue across it in broad, sweeping strokes. You could feel yourself tipping ever closer to the edge and, with a wheezing gasp, you reach down with both hands to cradle either side of his head.
You’re not sure if you want to push him away or draw him closer - as if that were even possible at this point.
“Oh - Ogun, wha - wait! Nngh … if you keep going - -“
Smacking his lips, he comes up just enough for you to hear him say “You’ll cum? Good.” Before diving back in.
The way he immediately opens his mouth wide and plunges his tongue into the satiny soft folds and creases of your cunt, teasing at your entrance, has you jolting as if you’ve been electrocuted. Gritting your teeth, you clutch him all the tighter while the building pressure inside you steadily inches towards blissful discomfort. Your heaving body was truly hanging in the balance now, entirely at his mercy (of which there seemed to be none) and your legs uselessly flex in the air when you squeeze them around his head. You could almost taste it in the back of your throat.
“Fuck! Right there …” you whine as you rock your pelvis against his mouth, the motion stiff and halting. “Right there, baby … I’m s - so - ooooh - close!”
Ogun grunts in approval and drags his tongue up to the top of your slit again, burying his face somehow even deeper into the cushiony give of your pussy. He glances at you, very briefly, from under the fall of dark lashes and the heady, masculine glint in those burnt gold irises sends a powerful shudder rippling down your spine. Your mouth drops open as if to scream but nothing comes out. For a worryingly long moment, it feels like you forgot how to breathe.
All you can do is watch on in thrumming suspense when he drops his gaze and gives his head a shake to jostle all the nerve endings in your cunt. The braids you’d worked on all day give a little bounce in their ponytail before settling again, and your eyes start to roll back when he flattens his tongue to your clit so he can grind down on it again. Static shoots through your system as you arch against him, so fitfully your back starts to ache in protest, but it was much too late. Nothing could stop it now, not even if you wanted to.
You suck in a haggard breath and the coil snaps, just like that. With an almost violent jerk, you devolve into a fit of convulsions that has you wailing up at the ceiling in total disregard for his upstairs neighbors. They probably heard you every time you and your boyfriend had sex but it’s not as if you could very well help it. Ogun was a talented individual by nature and that certainly transferred over into bedroom activities too.
Helpless, all you can do is cling to him through the full bodied tremors that shake you straight down to your core while he leisurely laps at your throbbing clit to ease you through it. He always seemed intent on milking your orgasms for all they were worth, and that certainly didn’t help your case with his neighbors either. It always felt like something of an out of body experience when he was the one going down on you and you couldn’t exactly say you disliked him for that.
The exact opposite, actually.
“Oh, god …”
With a stuttering groan, you slowly go limp as you come down from your high one piece of you at a time. It was hard to tell which jagged edges fit where, but you’re still acutely aware of the mess he’s made of your cunt when Ogun finally straightens and you feel a rush of fresh air hit your drenched slit. You shiver at the sensation and crack your eyes open to peer down at him, whimpering.
“You didn’t listen …”
Snorting a quiet laugh, he shifts against you and brings a hand up to swipe the glistening moisture from his mouth. “I only did what you initially asked for, sweetheart. That doesn’t mean I can’t give you the second request, too.”
Your lips curl in a warbling smile at that, and he grins right back.
Letting your head loll against the couch cushions, you contentedly watch as he brings your legs down off his shoulders so he can move to stand. Leaving you spread out and feeling like silly putty, he yanks his shirt over his head with one quick, fluid motion that makes his abdominals ripple tantalizingly before reaching for his pants next. He makes quick work of the button and then the fly, anticipation evident in his body language when he shoves them along with his underwear down to his feet.
Ogun’s thick cock bounces eagerly when he steps out of his discarded clothes, and the sight alone is enough to make your pussy clench tight. You still felt sensitive and over wrought, so fresh off the tail end of your orgasm, but that doesn’t stop you from moaning faintly at the sight of him.
You’d never known a more attractive man in all your life.
“Ogun …” You murmur, eyes slipping shut when your desire flares back at full force dizzyingly fast.
Your eyes immediately pop back open, however, when he slides his arms under your knees and leans forward to brace against the couch, folding you up like a pretzel. Your toes flex as you squirm underneath him, glancing down at your defenless little cunt with an excited squeak. Puffy lips can’t help but spread in this position and you easily catch sight of your swollen clit straining towards him in obvious need, not yet satisfied.
Hovering just a scant breath away, his straining cock - all silky smooth and heavy - twitches in anticipation, eager to sink into you. It doesn’t look like it's going to fit. It never does but, somehow or another, he always manages to squeeze every girthy inch of himself inside you and the thought alone has you throbbing in sharp, sporadic pulses.
It was almost embarrassing how fast you were bouncing back from the first round, but you can’t quite complain when you watch his hanging ballsack sway with the motion of getting himself situated and your pussy responds in kind with an intense pulse. He had the body of a breeder and you were sure he would’ve already had you heavy and round by now if only you weren’t on birth control. Maybe someday, though …
“Ogun …” You were starting to feel well and truly delirious now, and you reach up to dig your nails into his forearms for leverage to ground yourself with.
He doesn’t seem to mind it though, and he merely issues a soft grunt of acknowledgement as he rocks forward a bit to angle your defenseless pussy up at him more. You can feel yourself squeeze down and you groan, dazedly watching your own thighs flex in their bent up position but there was simply no way out of his hold now. The thought alone is enough to have you breathing out a stuttering puff of air, which you promptly choke on when he starts to lower his pelvis towards yours.
“Yes, yes, yes, please give it to me, I need it, I need it, please --”
You’re whining. You realize that on some level, but you’re much too consumed by this desperate hunger to have him rearranging your guts to care about that right now. It wouldn’t take Ogun long at all to have you creaming around him at this rate.
Unperturbed, he casually adjusts his position over top of you before swooping down to catch your babbling mouth in another heated kiss to silence you. The passionate force behind the gesture pushes your head back against the cushions and you relent, groaning into his lips as your hands fly up to offer his sides an encouraging squeeze.
Luxuriating under the strength of his body, you drag your palms up across his chest and higher still to grasp his shoulders. With a weak, halfhearted jut of your pelvis, you make a sad little attempt at angling your hips up enough to feel his leaking cockhead against your sticky cunt but it’s no use. He has you thoroughly pinned and at his mercy like this. His for the taking whenever he saw fit to skewer you on his sizable length and not a moment sooner.
It was too much.
You suddenly break from the kiss in favor of keening in soft desperation. He pulls back, stopping just long enough to regard you with that infuriatingly attractive, heavy lidded look before pointedly glancing between your bodies.
Slowly, you follow his lead only to swallow hard when his thighs flex forward and the underside of his cock skirts along your parted pussy lips. The crude way it bumps against your clit has you jolting at the sensation and clutching him all the more fervently. Your whole body positively shakes as Ogun shuffles his feet a little further apart and tries again, the bulbous glans slipping and sliding through petal soft folds once, twice - until it abruptly finds its mark on the third stroke.
Catching at your entrance, he pauses for a moment and then slowly starts to sink in. Your breath hitches, mouth opening on a silent scream as you watch the ruddy pink head slowly disappear into your body. The stretch is immediately felt, and it’s more than enough to make your greedy pussy flutter around the intrusion even as it gushes more sticky slick to ease the way.
But the more of him that slides into the gummy sleeve of your insides, the less good it does. He’s just too big - wider than he is long, yet still large enough to push your heaving body right to its limits. You hold your breath, head spinning, when he pushes further in and forces your squeezing passage to make room for him. More and more, until he’s about half of the way inside where he finally pauses to let you adjust.
You twitch, weakly writhing like a small animal caught in the merciless maw a steel trap. You were utterly powerless underneath him.
“Oh - Ogun! Fuck … fuck me - dear Sol, please just fuck me!”
He draws a slow, calming breath. “You’re still so tight, baby … I don’t want to hurt you.”
Whimpering, you reach between your legs and wrap trembling fingers around the base of him. Ogun moans after a few awkward pumps of your hand and tilts his face up at the ceiling, basking in the sensation of you jerking him while he’s half wedged inside your body.
It must feel good because it takes him a prolonged moment to get his bearings again and when he does, he carefully eases himself back just enough to give a tiny thrust forward. You can feel the moment he slips in a little deeper than before and you guide him into it, one sedate thrust at a time. When you stroke up, he pulls back and when you stroke down, he pushes into you. It’s a maddeningly cohesive rhythm that has you panting like a bitch in heat long before he finally slides home and you outright choke when the fronts of his thighs finally settle against the backs of yours a small eternity later.
“Shit,” He hisses, brows knitting as he peers down to admire the sight of his pelvis flush against yours. “That’s a tight fit … how’re you doing, sweetheart? It’s not too much, is it?”
You give your head a numb shake and roll your eyes up at him, teasing your fingertips through the mess of curls at the base of his groin while you do it. Words couldn’t even come close to describing how stuffed full you felt, but you loved it.
“N - no … it’s perfect … feels - ngh - good …”
Smiling, Ogun dips his face close to press his mouth to your forehead in a chastely sweet kiss. He stays like that as he carefully angles back until just the tip remains and then, so slowly you can feel it in your bones, he pushes back in. The drag is exquisite and it feels like you’re practically suffocating on the intense pleasure of every solid inch, each throbbing vein. You could feel it all.
A wordless cry of pleasure bursts out of you when he slides back out and in again at that same staggered pace. He’s so big you can feel the pressure on your cervix and when he wiggles his hips, grinding into you, oh god, it feels like he’s pushing the glans right on that raised ring of puckered flesh. Your mouth drops open but nothing comes out. It was hard just to keep your eyes focused anymore.
Haltingly, he starts up a gradual but steady pace as your body adjusts around the intrusion and makes room for him, your pulpy walls clinging to the length of him on each drawn out stroke. It comes as a great relief, particularly when the building pressure swells into high strung arousal and replaces the initial discomfort of being stretched right to the breaking point.
In a matter of moments, the sticky wet clicking that noises each time your pussy sucks him in deep on the downward thrust comes to dominate the living room. The sound of it only seems highlighted by your sensitive bleating and the husky groans slipping out of him, the drone of the tv so much an afterthought now that you forgot it was even on. Even when he picks up enough speed to drive the fronts of his thighs against your upturned ass, creating a sharp, fleshy slap, it’s nothing compared to the hungry slurping of your cunt.
You probably would’ve been embarrassed by the whole thing if only it didn’t feel like he was spearing you straight down the middle. It made your eyes cross, mouth hanging open in doped out bliss while you cling and clutch at him for dear life. There wasn’t a single inch of you that he didn’t touch like this and it lit up every nerve ending along the way like a goddamn firework.
If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost think he was going to break you in half.
“Such a pretty baby. Look how well you’re taking my cock ....”
You gasp. “Hnng, s’so big …!”
“And you’re taking all of it,” he murmurs, just this side of breathless. “Like a champ. Do you have any idea how good you look right now? Huh?”
You warble out an incomprehensible response, far too overwhelmed and riveted by the way Ogun’s cock glistens obscenely every time it makes another appearance between your thighs. Your fingers dig into his forearms, leaving crescent shaped marks in his skin and trying not to scream in ecstasy while he carves out a space within you.
You loved watching him fuck you like this for a multitude of reasons, the most pressing at the moment being that it drove you absolutely wild.
“If you keep squeezing me like that … ngh, I won’t last much longer.” He warns, his tone far too strained to hold even a hint of real reprimand.
He lets out a shaky breath as the speed of his thrusts quicken and you jerk underneath him, bleating like something wounded. The muscles in his arms flex and twitch around you when he smoothly adjusts the positioning of his hands without so much as missing a beat, hunching further over you.
“God, you drive me crazy …”
You’d like to tell him the feeling is mutual but you don’t get the chance. A particularly sharp snap of his hips knocks something loose inside you and you uncontrollably shake, legs kicking up uselessly at the air with a wordless noise of soaring pleasure. Cumming again doesn’t seem like such a far off possibility and a frazzled whine claws at the back of your throat when he presses his sweat slick forehead against yours, prompting you to glance up.
Ogun’s eyes were always beautiful to look at but especially so when you were staring into them from just a hair's breadth away and they were clouded dark with primal need as well something much more weighty.
“Tell me you want it, sweetheart. Tell me.”
“I - ngh - aaaahh, I want your cum, Ogun! I need you to fill me uh - up, please, I want it so baaad!”
A shudder races through him and he groans, eyes slipping shut for a brief moment as if to get his bearings before cracking open again. Keeping his forehead against yours, he tilts his head down to look between the two of you and, once again, you follow suit.
The sinfully rich color of his cock, just a shade or two darker than the rest of him, looks all the more tantalizing coated in your slick. You’ve all but drenched him at this point, the tight curls that frame his length visibly damp and matted together now. You suck in a frazzled breath at the sight, your head spinning alarmingly fast when the building pressure in your gut becomes almost too much to withstand. How was it that one single man could make you feel so primal with need but tenderly cared for at the same time?
“I - -“ You all but choke on it, wheezing at the next stroke. “I’m gonna’ - ahh, cum again … don’t stop!”
“I’m about to cum too, sweetheart.” With a soft groan, he lifts his attention to pin you with a heady look of challenge. “Think we can cum together?”
You frantically nod. “Uh huh!”
The corner of Ogun’s mouth twitches at that, settling into a lazy smirk as he shifts back and slows the motion of his hips. You can’t help groaning in disappointment but you realize what he’s doing quickly enough when he lets up his hold on your legs so he can lower himself down to lay out on top of you. Working his arms under your overheated back, he practically crushes you to the front of him and you bring your own up to wrap them around his neck.
This new position increases the pressure in your guts by a noticeable margin and the air rushes out of you with a stuttering sigh when he crawls up onto the edge of the couch to pin your thighs under his weight. Your legs are just as useless as before, twitching impotently in the air when he eases his hips back as far as he can. He doesn’t make it far, just enough to feel the drag and the subsequent plunge, but it makes you cry out all the same.
Face shoved into your hair, Ogun lets loose a series of heavy grunts when he picks up his earlier pace and the same sticky clicking rises in the air again. It’s much less deafening this time, softer by virtue of his shorter strokes, and you gratefully clutch him against you, glad to hold onto him.
“You feel so good …” he groans, making you shudder at the puff of hot air against your neck.
You can’t quite find your voice though, and you respond with a faltering moan that has him twitching inside you. The thick bands of musculature across his shoulders dance under your fingers each time he moves, emphasizing the raw strength in his lithe body. And yet he was still being careful with you, the plunge of his cock as carefully measured as before so as not to slam against your cervix but still tease it.
It wasn’t even that he was unreasonably large but, rather, he just so happened to fit you like a glove and that was perhaps the most arousing part of all.
“Ogun,” you finally manage to whimper. “Mm’ gonna’ cum …”
“Me too …”
The quietly stricken groan that comes out of him next makes your toes curl. You clench around him in a palpitating flutter, so close to the edge it brought the sting of tears to your eyes. His hips stutter at the squeeze and he trembles against you, struggling to keep up the subdued thrusting he’d settled into.
It quickly proves futile when his body tenses up with a low, faltering moan that rattles so deep you feel it in your cunt. The air catches in your throat and you squeeze him with your arms across his back and your legs around his narrow waist, clutching him to you as he lurches. Blunt fingers dig into your skin and he gives a little jerk, issuing a sucker punched wheeze seconds before you feel the rush of hot seed flooding your cunt.
You tremble wildly, nails clawing into his back when the sensation of Ogun shooting thick ropes against your gummy walls makes your muscles clamp around him hard enough to send you over the edge. Writhing in bliss, you stutter out a groan that he matches with one of his own while the two of you quake through your orgasms as one.
It was transcendental in a way you never would have thought possible.
Dropping his face to the couch cushions when you finally start to grow still underneath him some moments later, he issues a rumbling sound of satisfaction. The ragged quality of your panting quickly rushes in to replace the sticky wet squelching of your cunt, and you go boneless while you try to catch your breath. That was a lot easier said than done though and he, predictably, recovers much quicker than you.
“I’m surprised we really managed to pull that off.” He hums in contentment and turns his face to kiss at your ear, teasingly soft. “That’s a first.”
“And hopefully not the last.” You wheeze, making him chuckle.
“You liked it then, I take it?”
Dislodging your cramping fingers from his back with a certain amount of effort, you bring your hand up to push the hair from your face. “It was amazing … intense. I didn’t think we could do it either.”
Ogun lifts his head to press his mouth to your check, your nose, the spot between your eyes, all with a big smile on his face. “I’m glad we did. I promise I’ll try my best to make it happen again but no promises, okay?”
You can’t quite stop from giggling. “Don’t worry. I have faith in you.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Pausing long enough to give your ribs an affectionate pinch, he carefully pushes up from the couch and leans back. His softened cock slips out of you in the process, and you internally wince at the dribble of hot cum that oozes from you without him there to stopper it.
You draw your legs up to keep the mess to a minimum when he stands, gleaming eyes taking in the sight of you curled up on his couch with his semen leaking down the crease of your pussy for a prolonged beat. And then, he grins.
“Wanna’ get cleaned up and I’ll order that pizza?”
“How am I supposed to think about food after all that?” You pout at him.
Sending a sly look down at the spot between your thighs, Ogun starts to turn towards the bathroom. “I’ll get you a rag. I’m sure you’ll realize just how hungry you are once the adrenaline wears off. Besides, you should probably refuel before I try to give you an encore.”
Smiling at that, you appreciatively glance down at his tight ass before he disappears through the doorway. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind he’d be able to pull it off.
Warnings: I really don't know how else to say this but basically Luffy puts his Gum-Gum abilities to good use by tying his foreskin in a knot so he can keep raw dogging it and (predictably) things don't quite work out
A/N: This idea has been haunting me since I started writing these 1,000 word snippets.
♥♥♥♥
If Luffy were any more insatiable, he’d be humping you into the mattress right about now.
You know he doesn’t mean anything by it - nothing malicious, at any rate. He’s just excited. But you can’t quite shake the feeling of being pinned under a happy, slobbering mutt as you push at him, begging for a moment's pause so you can at least get yourself situated first.
“Luffy, wait - -“
He doesn’t listen, of course, simply far too eager to experience that intoxicating rush of endorphins again. His hands make easy work of spreading your thighs even when you try to keep them closed and you realize you need to get through to him somehow when he impatiently moves to settle between them, already lining himself up.
Impulsively, you fist your hand in the back of his hair and yank. His head comes up with a squawk, fingers scrabbling to latch onto your wrist while you breathe out a stilted sigh of relief. He doesn’t attempt to pry you off though, and you slowly sit up. Using your hold on his head to leverage him back and create more space between your bodies, you drop your gaze to regard the cock straining towards you. With the way it was already excitably leaking again you’d never guess he came just a few moments ago.
In retrospect it had likely been a mistake introducing Luffy to the concept of sex. He had so little self control to begin with, but it was clearly much too late for that now.
“Let go’a me!”
“No. You can’t be trusted down there.”
“Huh?” Heedless to the tug on his hair, he forces his chin down to look at you. “What do you mean?”
You narrow your eyes at him. “I mean you don’t know how to pull out! Last time you said you would but you didn’t.”
Frowning, he puts his head to one side. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Everything! If you keep cumming in me I’ll - -“ Cutting yourself off with a strangled gasp, you let go of him in favor of shyly covering your face. “No, no, that would be bad! We can’t!”
“Come oooonn.” With a pouty whine, Luffy leans into you and presses his puckered lips to the backs of your knuckles. As far as persuasion tactics go, it was frustratingly effective. Dammit.
Slowly, you lower your hands. “You have to pull out, okay?”
“Why?”
A sharp breath. “Because I just - -“
“As long as I don’t let it out inside then it should be fine, right?”
You hesitate at that. “Luffy, do you even - -“
“Sure! I gotta’ make sure you don’t get any in you. Easy.”
Very much doubting that, you watch him lean back and reach down to experimentally tug at his cock with sun kissed fingers. He seems to think about it before apparently having an ‘aha!’ moment, his attention zeroing in on the foreskin instead. You lift a dubious brow at this, but he either doesn’t notice or he doesn’t care. With an alarmingly smooth tug, the excess skin stretches well past the point of normalcy and he makes quick work of trying it into a tight little knot clearly meant to act as a barrier.
If you hadn’t seen it with your own eyes, you never would’ve believed it.
“Hold on a minute - -“
He’s on you in an instant, laughing triumphantly as he shoves you back down on the bed.
Your hands come up in a fluster but before you can protest he gets his hips centered and pushes inside with a quick snap. Eyes jolting in their sockets, you heave a stuttering groan and clutch him to the front of you instead of pushing away as you’d initially intended. True to nature, Luffy wastes no time on build up and he immediately goes in at a quick, breakneck pace that has you completely at the mercy of his plunging cock.
It’s no wonder he cums within minutes going at that speed.
But, to your dazed astonishment, you don’t feel any sticky warmth seeping into you this time. And that’s a good thing, because he barely stops long enough to enjoy the shuddering tremors that wrack through his body before picking right back up again.
Squealing in high pitched pleasure, you glance down at where his pelvis meets yours and a rush of relief floods your cotton stuffed head. No sign of creamy white cum, as far as you could tell. It was a hairbrained idea to use his gum-gum abilities like this but it seemed to be working and thank god for that.
A particularly sharp thrust knocks something inside you and you toss your head back, uninhibited, to groan up at the ceiling. Luffy is all but mindless on top of you, the sharp smack of skin meeting skin highlighting the sensitive grunts and groans that spill from his mouth. It’s so easy to get lost in him like this, all the more so when his relentless rutting eventually shoves you into a quaking orgasm of your own.
But still, he doesn’t stop.
He cums twice more before slowing to a more sedate pace that has you whimpering and whining underneath him. The burning drag of his cock with its fat, swollen tip seems to put just the right amount of pressure on your guts and you keen when he looks down at you, covered in sweat and grinning.
“You like it?”
“I luh - love it, Luffy! Please don’t stop!”
His brow drawn in a determined line, he angles his hips back and slams inside again. You knew he was just doing what he felt naturally inclined to do. The same action had elicited plenty of mewling noises out of you before.
But you feel the pop at the same time he does and you both stare at each other in wide eyed surprise as the combined load of three separate orgasms floods your pussy all at once, absolutely drowning your cervix in it.
Warnings: sexual roleplay, sex work, excessive/rough breast play, vaginal sex, creampie, set in Wano but honestly I just took advantage of that unknown period when they first arrived, chubby reader
A/N: It's okay, Law doesn't need to use condoms. He's a doctor. : )
♥♥♥♥
“Well, how do I look?”
Head coming up, Law glances over from his spot on the tatami and ire immediately flashes through stormy gray eyes. But you pretend not to notice as you turn in the doorway, letting him see the back of your kimono with its neatly tied bow and the flowing long sleeves that had delighted you when you’d first glimpsed the style of dress in this country.
Truth be told, you were really quite pleased with yourself.
Particularly after Kinemon had assured you it was a lovely choice for the role you were to take in Wano; that of a maid servant working at the finest brothel in the capital where you were sure to overhear plenty of hush hush information the others might not likewise be privy to. The place was frequented by big wig politicians, powerful samurai and members of the ruling Kurozumi faction, according to him, which meant you would be playing an integral part in the plan going forward.
You were glad for it, eager to be of some use in the coming battle to overthrow the shogunate since such an opportunity very rarely presented itself to non combatants like you.
But when you turn back around, beaming expectantly only to find Law glaring across the room, your shoulders quickly droop in defeat. “What? You don’t like it?”
Rather than directly answering the question, he scoffs and looks away. “You’re supposed to be blending in with the people of this country, not standing out like a sore thumb.”
You guffaw, glancing down at yourself. “What do you mean? Everyone’s wearing clothes like this!”
“That’s not the problem.”
“Then what is?”
Try as you might, you just couldn’t figure out what he was finding issue with here. The rich silk print wrapped around your body was understated, not nearly as intricate or attention grabbing as those of the oiran you would soon be waiting on, but that didn’t make it any less elegant. In fact, you’d thought for sure he would like it for just that reason.
The monochrome base with its bursts of color in the form of vibrant, blooming red and pink chrysanthemums had struck you as something he would appreciate for its simple yet undeniable beauty. He’d picked out his own clothes in similar fashion, going with a basic black and white kimono and a relatively plain yet stylish jittoko to wear over top so you weren’t really sure what made your outfit any different.
They were practically one and the same - and you tell him as much when you step across the room, fully prepared to fight him on this.
But as soon as you're close enough, Law reaches out to snag your wrist and he yanks you down on the floor with him. You draw a sharp breath as your knees hit the woven mat, quickly jerking your attention up only to choke on whatever you were going to say when he crowds into your space with that steely eyed frown he was known for.
“W - what?”
“It’s not the same.” He intones, low and unamused. “I’m going to be playing a traveling monk with my face covered. You’ll be working in the red light district. There’s a world of difference here.”
You start to ask him to elaborate, because you just weren’t seeing it, but stop yourself short when the answer abruptly clicks into place.
Oh.
So it was like that.
“Could it be … you’re feeling a little possessive, maybe?”
Law barks out a quick laugh, making your cheeks warm. “And why would that be?”
“I don’t know!” You blurt, embarrassed. “Even if you’re not serious about this - about us, I just thought you might be getting sort of ... jealous, thinking about other men looking at me that way. I guess.”
“You’re not mine to feel possessive about, sweetheart. You know that.”
Too well, in fact; you think as you turn your face away to hide the hurt you were sure he’d find staring back at him.
He's quick to reach out and grab under your chin though, manually turning you back around. “Don’t pout. You volunteered for this job.”
“I just wanted to be useful …”
“You are useful.” He murmurs, the pitch of his voice dropping an octave, intentionally or not, to send static racing down your spine. “Don’t you worry about that. I have a solution that I think will satisfy both of us, though.”
“O - oh?”
Without missing a beat, Law snakes his arm behind him, grabs the tengai sitting at his knee and brings it forward so he can unceremoniously plop it down on top of your head. You squawk, hands flying up to grab the hat which basically amounted to little more than a straw basket and, therefore, should have been easy to remove. But the hand he still had resting on top of the damned thing kept it firmly in place no matter how you pushed at it and you outright seethe when you catch the slightly muffled sound of his smug, snickering laughter.
“Law, you ass! Stop!”
He hadn’t even had the decency to put it on the right way! The slats were facing out at the back of your skull and you couldn’t see anything except warm light bleeding in through the woven textiles.
“But if you wear this,” he tells you in a sobered yet no less amused tone. “I won’t have to worry about horny old perverts looking at you too much.”
“I swear I’m gonna’ - -“ You stammer to a halt, suddenly realizing what he’d said. “So you are jealous that other men might look at me!”
“Mm. Jealous isn’t the word I would use, personally.”
“Oh, then what hell would - -“
You cut yourself off with a flustered gasp when his unoccupied hand abruptly winds around your waist and finds the bow Kinemon had tirelessly struggled to fasten your obi in. He tugs at it, gently at first, and then more forcefully when it doesn’t give. With a click of his tongue, so close to your basketed head that you couldn’t miss it, Law adjusts his grip and feels around for the weak point in the knot. Once located, his long, dexterous fingers make quick work of loosening it with a soft slither of silk that makes you shudder for him and lean into the heat of his body.
The amount of sway he held over you just wasn’t fair.
“Do we really have to do this … with the hat on?”
Obi successfully undone, he starts to unwind it from around your waist one slow loop at a time.
“If I have it my way,” he says quietly. “This is the closest you’ll ever get to having anonymous sex. So the answer is, yes.”
The implication of what he was saying had you running hot, and not just in arousal. “I won’t sleep with any of the men at the brothel, you know.” You tell him tersely.
“I’m sure you won’t, but just in case you ever wonder what it would be like …”
His hand finds your shoulder as soon as the ridiculously long band of fabric is pooled between both of your laps; gentle but commanding in the way he pushes you down to lay out on the floor. You comply, though not without a soft whimper at the uniquely strange pitter patter in your suddenly tight chest.
It’s not that you didn’t understand what he was doing here.
Giving you a taste of what it would be like on the off chance hearing the girlish moans in the next room over ever sparked your interest, so you’d think back on this moment and remember how good he was at fucking you into a blissed out stupor. As if you could ever forget.
But, still, it seemed he wanted you to go into this with that knowledge fresh in your mind. And if it was the thrill of anonymity you wanted, he was clearly happy to oblige in that too. The fact he cared about something so silly, enough to remind you with a hands on demonstration, warmed you from the inside out in a way that little else ever had. He may not have admitted it in quite so many words, but this was possessive behavior if you’d ever seen it.
Admittedly pleased by this turn of events, you lay back with your arms splayed across the tatami mats and watch him move close to hover over you. Bracing a hand on the floor, he begins to carefully part the layers of your kimono with the other, one at a time, while you stare up at the inside of his tengai. You badly wanted to reach up and slip it off your head, or at least spin it around the right way so you could glimpse him through the slats, but you choose to refrain. If not because you were sure he’d just find a way to secure it until he was finished making his point then certainly because you were curious to see how far he would take this.
Law clearly felt something more towards you than just baser lust and general irritation, and that excited you almost as much as his hands on you did.
“To answer your earlier question,” he drawls, gently nudging you back into the here and now. “You look good in these clothes. Almost frustratingly so, actually.”
You gulp down the butterflies dancing in your throat and try your hardest not to smile, even though he couldn’t see it either way. “Really?”
“I wouldn’t have said it otherwise, silly girl.” His long fingers finally find the nagajuban, the last flimsy barrier separating you from him, and Law noises a brief sound of anticipation as he descends upon it.
A sedate shudder ripples down your spine while he makes casual work of spreading the robe open around you, your nipples immediately puckering when the cool air hits them. It makes you twitch and arch for him, squirming fitfully on your impromptu bed of silk; but he doesn’t stop long enough to pay it any mind and you have to bite back a groan when he somewhat callously palms your breasts with broad hands.
He isn’t as soft with you as he usually is. Not quite so preoccupied with prioritizing your pleasure over his own, and the almost greedy way he kneads at your chest serves its purpose in making you feel like a properly casual encounter. Something to vent his frustrations and nothing more.
You’d like to say it was off putting and that you didn’t like being handled so indifferently, but that would have been a bold faced lie. You were rapidly growing hot under his attention - tipping your head back inside the tengai to mewl out a whine when he bends down and eagerly seals his mouth around one stiff nipple without any of the slow buildup you were accustomed to. You were entirely at his mercy like this, in this particular role, and Law’s affinity for your breasts quickly makes itself known in the form of rough, enthusiastic sucking and nibbling that was perhaps just a little too sharply applied for it to be pleasurable.
But it wasn’t for you that he was doing this, so he takes his time indulgently suckling at the teat in his mouth until you finally whimper and twist underneath him. He comes up at the noise, leaving the tip of your breast feeling sore and unbearably coiled in the scant space that separates the shallow rise and fall of your chest from his. The tight bud gives a muted throb in the aftermath, the ache of it just edging your peripheral, and he chuckles when you squeeze doughy thighs together, rubbing them.
“Oh? You like that, do you?”
You can practically hear the roguish smirk in his tone, and your face goes hot behind the woven barrier. He knew your body well enough to recognize a sound of genuine pleasure from one of tender pain, but you don’t get the chance to correct him before the rough pad of his finger abruptly swipes over the swell of your breast. Sure and steady, it follows the natural curve of it right up to the straining nipple in the center which he delivers a sharp flick to, making you twitch and whine. The heat pooling in your gut seemed to suggest it wasn’t entirely disagreeable but you weren’t used to such indelicate treatment, not from him, and you positively writhe when he palms the weight of it in his hand again.
“My, what a sensitive little minx I’ve invited into my bed. I can already tell you’re going to be worth every penny.”
Understanding immediately dawns and you bite down on your lower lip to keep quiet as he switches his attention to the opposite tit, pinching the meat of it firmly enough to make pliable flesh spill out between his fingers. You shudder at the way he guides the puckered tip to his mouth with a sense of slow, savory anticipation, warm breath wafting against your skin moments before his lips close around it. Issuing a hazy groan, you curl your hands into the fabric laid out underneath you and arch, pushing your chest up to meet him halfway. If it was a sweetly compliant mistress of the night he expected you to play, then that was what you were going to give him.
“Mmm, you’re good at this, mister.” You murmur softly, still embarrassed to be saying it even with your resolve, and he snorts.
“Yeah? Don’t try to flatter me, sweetheart, I’m sure you say that to all the John’s.”
He goes up then and sits back on his knees, both arms stretched out across your body to cup and fondle the weight of your breasts with that same intense focus as before. A puff of air stutters out of you when he slowly drags the blunt of his thumbs over stiff points, making your pussy clench with a sympathetic flutter. Everything felt somehow that much more intense without the use of your sight and it takes every ounce of willpower you possess not to reach up and grab ahold of his bony wrists when he finally pinches one tightly coiled bud between two of his fingers.
“Nggh, w - … wait!” You mewl, your breath coming quicker when even something as simple as that makes your gut twist hard enough to leave you aching for him.
Chidingly tutting at you, Law makes a casual show of teasing your swollen nipple to straining attention while his other hand kneads the opposite breast like a happy feline earnestly fluffing it’s favorite pillow. That is to say, rather aggressively.
“Sorry, but you don’t get to tell a paying customer what to do. That’s part of the deal,” he informs you politely enough, but the reprimand itself as well as the pressure on your tit still makes you wince. “You’re mine for the night, so we’re going to do whatever it is I want. That’s what we agreed on, isn’t it?”
“... yes.”
“Good girl.” He breathes out, palming both of your tits now to squeeze them. “Stay nice and sweet for me, and I just might leave you a handsome tip when I’m done. How’s that sound, hm?”
You give your head a stilted nod before recalling that he probably couldn’t see it. “I … I’d like that very much, mister.”
“Then you had better make sure you behave yourself. I won’t give you anything extra if I don’t think you deserve it. You need to earn it. Do you understand?”
“Mm, yes … yes, I understand.”
“Good to hear.”
Giving the swell of your tits a bitingly rough pinch, Law slowly drags his palms down so that rough calluses scrape over your sensitized nipples. You can’t quite stop from crying out when the two buds give meaty little jostles in the wake of his hands, so puffy and engorged now that they felt achingly tender to the touch. He seems satisfied by the lack of protest though, and he pauses long enough to give them both another taunting tweak before trailing lower, sharp fingertips dancing across your stomach.
“You have the perfect body for this, you know.” He says, almost casually offhand. “Soft in all the right places and so very inviting. The kind of body anyone could lose themselves in, if given the chance. I’m sure you’re quite popular.”
“Mm’ not …”
Scoffing quietly, he splays his hands wide across your stomach and rubs the soft pudge there before dragging them around to squeeze at plushy lovehandles that seem to mold into his palms. You whimper at the avid attention to your body, even though you really should have been used to it by now, but he doesn’t say anything to scold you for it like some men otherwise might have. Law was more inclined to showing rather than telling, after all, and he responds instead by bringing his hands forward so he can press your thighs open for him to settle between.
“You know I don’t buy that, sweetheart. How could anyone with a working cock pass up the chance to have a pretty little pussy like this all to themselves, huh? You look like you’d just suck me right in.”
His spindly fingers dip into the space between your legs and find plump, velvety lips, slowly pressing in and spreading them apart so he can get a good, long look at you. Choking at the sensation, your thighs tense and flex as if to close him out but you stop yourself from acting on the urge with a tiny, faltering mewl. Your face is on fire behind his hat while you make do with twisting on the floor instead - your hands balling into tight little fists with layers of kimono clenched in them as you try to decide if you should happily offer him your cunt or tell him to stop. It was a surprisingly hard choice to make when he had you so vulnerably exposed like this.
“M - mister … please, you’re embarrassing me!”
“Am I now?” He chuckles faintly, making you flush even hotter. “We’ll just have to fix that then, won’t we?”
Your breath catches in your throat when you feel Law sit back on his haunches again, those long fingers of his still keeping you spread open for him. Trying to brace for what was coming next quickly proves to be an effort in futility when he crowds his other hand in with the first and presses down on your clit with expert precision, rubbing smooth little circles into it. A startled sound of pleasure erupts out of you even as your body goes ramrod stiff, the sensitive nub giving a receptive throb under featherlight pressure which prompts you to angle your hips up in search of more.
He laughs in response to the needy display, unhurriedly adjusting the position of his hand so he can flick at your clit with a slow, steady back and forth of his finger until you finally twitch and writhe, just as he wanted.
“Hmph. Pretty girl. You look good when you squirm for me like that, but I’m sure you’ll look even better when you’re squirming on my cock here in a minute.”
You let out a frazzled, sucker punched sound and twist on the floor, making your heavy tits bounce and jiggle with the jerky motion. “Please … I want it!”
“What do you want, sweetheart? Tell me.”
“N - ngh … I want - want your cock …”
Humming faintly, Law picks up the pace of his finger, battering your clit from both sides, and you almost come up off the floor with a strangled, gasping wheeze. “I didn’t quite catch that, I’m afraid. Would you like to try again?”
“Your cock! I want your cock, La - - haah, m - mister! Please put it in …”
“You’ll have to be a bit more specific, I’m afraid. Do you want it in your mouth? Or perhaps your ass …”
You shake your head so wildly that the tengai slips up just enough for you to feel a rush of fresh air assaulting the lower half of your face, but you hardly think anything of it in your quickly mounting desperation. You didn’t need to see - you needed to feel him inside you, stretching your guts to capacity.
“No, no please, mister, not there! I want it in my pussy! Please stick it in my pussy and fuck me stupid with your cock! I p - promise I’ll be good!”
At that Law sucks in a sharp, heated breath, letting it back out in a rumbling low groan as his finger drops away from your clit to swipe through the copious slick oozing out of you, testing your wetness.
“Ooh, what a damn good girl you are. You’ll have me coming back for more, if you’re not careful. Would you like that? Do you want to share my bed again?”
“Yuh - yes! I want you to fuck me lots and lots …”
A mildly flustered sigh slips out of him, sending a brief touch of ghostly fingertips across your inflamed skin to make you tremble and shake, still so sensitive even now. “How could I ever say ‘no’ to that, huh? You’ll gladly be the ruin of me at this rate …”
He leans all the way back then, big hands retreating from your body with a deliberate sense of action. You’re left flushed and sprawled out on the floor, dizzily blinking through the needy haze that’s come over your punch drunk mind when you catch the sound of rustling fabric directly in front of you. You think to tip your head down, peering along the length of your nose, and a certain amount of surprise washes over you when you realize you can see something other than just the inside of the basket.
Past the shallow rise and fall of your chest and the soft swell of your stomach, you catch a glimpse of him moving between your bent and splayed legs. He was already naked, his borrowed kimono shrugged off and discarded; sizable cock jutting proudly into the space between you two and leaking a glistening bead of precum. You still couldn’t see Law’s face when the rim of the woven hat was taking up a good majority of your line of sight - just up to about the midway point of his waist - but that only seemed to heighten the feigned sense of anonymity in this situation.
Choking down a much needed gulp of air, you watch as if in a trance while he finishes getting himself situated and reaches out to hook his hands under your knees. Spreading them further apart and then folding them towards your chest allows him to shuffle even closer and settle the fronts of his thighs against your upturned ass, tilting your pelvis up at him in the process. He lets one leg settle beside his narrow hip so he can snake a hand into the now scant space between you two where he gives himself a few savory pumps before guiding the glans to your waiting cunt.
“L - Law!” You gasp, close to delirious at the feverish scene unfolding right in front of you.
“Hmm? Am I not ‘mister’ anymore?” He teases, slowly drawing the head of his cock up and down your slit to coat it in sticky arousal, the soft nudge against your clit on every steady stroke making your hips twitch in anticipation. “I kind of liked the sound of it, to be honest with you. Maybe I should have you call me that more often.”
In a daze, you reach down as if to grab for him but stop yourself short at the last second when you abruptly recall your assigned role here. Fingers twisting in frustration, you ball them up into fists against your lower stomach only to blush red hot at the way he chuckles, faintly laughing at you. You have to fight to keep your eyes open when you want nothing more than to screw them shut, embarrassed, and a quiet whine rises in the back of your throat as you watch Law purposefully guide himself to your entrance. He applies just enough pressure for you to feel the blunt head pressing into you, barely, but not enough to sink in yet, and your toes excitedly curl in the air, eager for the sear of penetration.
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” He murmurs, drawing your attention away from what’s going on between your legs. “You don’t have to hold back. I doubt you’ll be able to keep it up, anyway.”
You don’t need to be told twice, and you quickly snag your fingers around his wrists as he latches on to your other leg again, digging his fingers into pillowy soft flesh to keep them spread. Noticeably holding the air in his lungs now, Law leans his weight into you and the glans slowly breaches the first ring of muscle with an intoxicatingly delicious rush of friction that has you instantly shaking for him.
He pushes in deeper and deeper, ever so slowly, making sure you feel each individual inch that penetrates you at that tortuously staggered pace. Your eyes start to roll back before he’s even fully seated inside you, and you eventually let out some sort of desperate, wounded animal noise when he finally slides home a small eternity later.
He lets out the breath he’d been holding in a stuttering rush and it seems to rattle through his narrow chest while he takes his time grinding the sharp planes of his pelvis into the plushy give of yours. The coarse but neat thatch of curls at the base of him scratches and tickles, leaving a burning trail in their wake as you gratefully jut your cunt up into the pressure, plaintively asking for more. He felt so good inside you. He always felt so good.
“Nngh … please, Law! Please make me cum on - on your cock, please … I’ve been good …”
“You have.” He agrees, at last angling his hips back until you fear he would slip right out only to push inside again at that same frustratingly slow pace. “You’re a good girl, when you want to be. You know I’ll always reward you for a job well done, don’t you?”
You offer a quick nod, breathless, as you try to crane your neck up to get a better look at where his cock was sedately gliding in and out of you, but it only makes the tengai slide back down into place. Realizing you were once again without sight, you screw your eyes shut and groan bitterly as you toss your head back.
“T - that’s why I wanted to be useful for you …!”
Feeling him hunch over you, and rather suddenly at that, you tense when the slight change in position increases the pressure of him inside your guts. Your mouth warbles open as if to groan but nothing comes out, and genuine surprise rapidly floods the forefront of your mind when he grabs the top of the hat and pulls it off, making you blink owlishly in the suddenly bright room.
“I figured as much when you volunteered for a role as risky as it is potentially invaluable. You’re not a fighter, so it was fairly obvious you had a motive.” Fixing you with a sly smirk, he tosses the tengai aside and settles more squarely on his knees. Picking up the force behind his thrusts, now perfectly angled to drive into your upper wall and attack the tightly clustered nerves on the other side, Law clutches at you all the more fervently until you’re positive you’ll find bruises in the morning. “But I trust you … I know you’ll do a good job, sweetheart. You always do.”
Letting out a series of whimpering groans, you push up on your elbows so you can flick your attention between his glistening wet cock as it drives into you and his handsomely pinched face. “Then w - aah - what was all that b - before … you ass?”
He offers you a tersely clipped laugh. “Just a bit of fun, mostly.”
“Such a … nngh, such a jerk …”
Chuckling under his breath, Law lets up his hold on your legs in favor of sliding broad palms across your stomach, calluses scraping, to get a good grip on plushy hips. You respond with a low groan as you struggle upright so you can get your hands under you and push up, slanting your pelvis down to meet his leisurely thrusts tit for tat. The hushed sound of skin meeting skin picks up in the old room, otherwise silent besides the soft moans and faltering breaths coming from the two of you.
It was unexpectedly nice, given the circumstances.
“Yes, right t - there … haah, so good, you feel so good, Law. God, don’t stop …”
“You know I won’t,” he rumbles, possessively squeezing your sides in a pinching tight grip so he can guide you into a more energetic bouncing motion that has your heavy tits bouncing for him. “But I meant what I said earlier … any man would be a fool to pass up a night with you. I’m sure you’ll be quite popular in the brothel.”
You shake your head, sucking in a faltering gasp. “I don’t c - care … I only want you …”
“How reassuring …”
A shaky groan puffs out of him and the sound races straight to your cunt, making you clench around the stiff cock relentlessly carving out a space within you. Your subconscious reaction only seems to make him dig up into your sweet spot all the more insistently and, seething, you close your eyes, dropping your chin to your chest. You could feel the coil inside you slowly tightening just that little bit more each time he slid up inside you, making your toes curl while you struggled just to keep up with the pace he wanted.
Your legs and arms were quickly growing tired though and, with a soft, whining plea, you lift one of your hands to reach for him. Law catches on quick as usual, immediately letting go of your hips so he can curl one arm under your armpit and across your shoulder blades. With very little effort on his part, he hauls you up against him and locks the other arm behind your back so he can hold you in his lap.
“You like it better this way, sweetheart?” He murmurs, bracing his scruffy chin on the center of your chest with his head tilted back to look up at you.
“Ahh - mm, mhm!”
Clinging to his broad shoulders, you adjust the positioning of your feet and bounce on his cock a little more smoothly now. He seemed to hit even deeper than before, knocking something inside of you that made every inch of your body feel like it was on fire. You could hardly breathe through it, sucking in one haggard gasp after another while you continued to work yourself over until you felt near delirious with the need to cum.
You weren’t quite there yet though and you curl yourself around him, tucking your face into the crook of his shoulder so you can inhale the smell of him into your contracting lungs. Pinewood and ozone, the faintest note of antiseptic. You could even make out a faint trace of the dark, heady cologne he hardly ever bothered to put on. It was indescribably intoxicating, and you couldn’t take much more of it.
“Wanna’ cum …” you mewl against his collarbone, feeling like you were moments away from drooling all down the front of him. Your mind was a cotton stuffed mess.
Turning his head, Law presses his mouth to your hair and gently kisses you. “Are you starting to get tired?”
“Yuh - yeah …”
He tsks at that, the sound warm and comforting in your ear.
You suddenly choke on a sharp inhale when he tightens his arms around you without so much as missing a beat, hauling you up even closer to him and prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist with a light jostle. Crossing your ankles behind his back, you hang on for dear life as he somewhat awkwardly goes up on his knees, adjusts the grip he has on you - all without dislodging himself from your pulpy cunt - and then pivots his hips forward to test the angle.
The action rocks you in his arms, increasing the pressure on the downward slide when your soft ass paps against the fronts of his thighs. It knocks the air right out of you and you jolt, lifting your face from his shoulder so you can keen in frazzled, almost hysterical pleasure. You sounded like something wild and mindless.
“Is that better?” He whispers, his tone much too smug for him not to already know the answer.
Law doesn’t even give you a chance to respond before he does it again though, more forcefully this time, and you practically shriek in wordless delight. The momentum of his gravity assisted thrusts builds into the next, and then the next until he was fucking into you at such an enthusiastic pace that you couldn’t even begin to keep up with it.
Your mind completely blank now, you let your mouth hang open in doped out bliss while you freely moan and squeal in pleasure; the sticky wet squelching between your bodies and the sharp smack of skin on skin serving as an all too appropriate backdrop for the sounds you were making. The coil inside you was quickly reaching its breaking point and all you could do anymore was clutch at him, digging your nails into his back while he relentlessly slammed into you.
His straining grunts, so hot and heavy in your ear, had you vibrating like a wound up ball of static electricity and you hung there on the precipice for a horribly long beat, silently praying for the pin to drop. You weren’t sure how much more your aching cunt could take at this level of intensity - and then, so abruptly it almost startles you, he turns his head so he can shove his mouth against your neck and kiss you again.
It was, embarrassingly enough, the abrasive burn of his chin scruff that finally shoves you over the edge.
Toes curling to the point of genuine discomfort, you jerk in his hold so violently that it nearly tips the both of you over onto the ground. Law is quick to steady himself though and he crushes you against the front of him with a rumbling groan while your cunt spasms and tries to strangle his cock in a chokehold. You were far too caught up in the wild, full bodied tremors that were wracking through you to complain about the creaking ache in your ribs from where he was holding on to you so tight, but you also didn’t really care.
You were floating somewhere far above the physical realm, your flesh and blood body little more than an afterthought at that point.
Finally, you come back to earth with a strangled, heaving gasp, hands scrabbling against Law’s sweaty back as you writhe in his arms like you were something feral and untamed. He wasn’t about to let you go anywhere just yet though, and he rocks forward on his knees so that your back hits the rumpled layers of your kimono again. Keeping his arms locked around your quaking frame, he settles close enough to rest the fronts of his thighs on the backs of yours and pin them to the floor underneath him.
The vigorous pounding that follows seems to drag out your soul shattering orgasm to the point of real discomfort and it very nearly sends you spiraling into another. Your legs were flexing in the air, jerking with each powerful thrust of his narrow hips, but he was chasing his own high now and he couldn’t be bothered to stop long enough to pay attention to your desperate bleating. For a brief moment in time, he was a man well and truly possessed.
“Oooh, fuck, you get so tight when you cum, sweetheart, hng - haahn, your pussy’s so good to me, you know that? I’m gonna’ fill you up, baby, you ready? It’s coming …”
You jerk your head in a disoriented nod and Law drops his face to your shoulder, his slender frame shaking uncontrollably with the intensity of his fast approaching release. The obscenely loud, sticky wet squelching that noises between the two of you only seems to highlight the rough, primal quality of the seething grunts and groans that slip through his clenched teeth, rattling around inside your otherwise empty skull. You were starting to ache, in earnest this time, and reflexive tears sting at the corners of your eyes while you fervently cling to him, brokenly moaning at each desperate stroke of his cock.
For better or worse, it only takes a few minutes of this brutal pace to have Law’s hips stuttering and losing their rhythm, his thrusts gradually turning sloppy and uneven before grinding to a complete stop. Heaving, he puts the whole weight of his body into it and slams himself inside the mess he’s made of your cunt, mercilessly rocking you back against the floor once, twice, three times. On the fourth plunge, he suddenly freezes on top of you, lurching with the loss of momentum, and a powerful shudder races down his spine while he sensitively twitches and paints your guts white.
You let out a flustered groan at the sensation, delighting in the way the warmth of his release settles and spreads through you, coating your palpitating walls in creamy discharge. It was enough to send a fresh wave of tremors racing up your legs and the two of you groan in near perfect unison as you both go limp, struggling to catch your breath.
He recovers somewhat quicker than you do, eventually pushing his weight up and slipping out from between your legs so he can tiredly roll over onto his side next to you. You’re still panting when he turns you to face him, gently drawing you up against his shallowly contracting chest so you can nuzzle your nose into the thin patch of hair there. You could still smell him, a faint comfort, through the faint musk and various bodily fluids now sticking to your skin, and you were content to enjoy it for just a little bit longer.
His hand slides around to rub across your back while you both work at coming the rest of the way down from your peaks, a true feat after that unexpectedly intense session, and he lets you press in close until it was hard to tell where one of you stopped and the other began. If asked prior to this, you wouldn’t have thought you’d be all that into role playing in the bedroom but, somehow, it was actually kind of fun with him.
Law did often seem to have that effect on you.
“Hey,” he says at last, bringing his hand up and around to gently brush the hair back from your temple. “You hungry?”
Still thrumming, you give yourself a moment to think about that. “Mm, I could eat.” You murmur even as you contentedly snuggle somehow even deeper into Law’s chest, getting comfortable.
He gives an amused snort and drags his rough palm down along your side, delivering a sharp pinch to the meat of your ass to make you jolt.
“Come on, let’s go see what kind of food we can get in Wano. I’m sure we’ll find something good, or at least something edible.” Pausing, he dips his face close and presses his mouth to the top of your head, speaking into your hair. “And when we get back maybe I’ll eat you next.”
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