I loooveee how you write habit!!! Could u pls write more sub habit, I am salivating..
reader giving him a piece of his own medicine. Almost torturing him back, I hope u get the vision! 🌝
Get the vision? Baby I MADE the vision. This is purely self indulgent and you may have gotten more than you bargained for- but alas. I yearn for that man’s tears. I am pegging that man at the back of the bus I fear.
Sub! Habit x GN! Dom-Reader !! ^3^
Aphrodisiacs and kinda?? Water sports?? Adjacent???
— ^ ^ —
Habit felt like he was being burned alive.
Feet dragging on the pavement, this was not happening. A measly civilian, someone that shouldn’t have taken any effort to get rid of-
Yet here he was, slumped against his own porch well after nightfall. As if it had genuinely taken everything he had to win, however, it quite literally hadn’t. That’s what confused him: three maybe four, well-aimed swings from his hunting knife, and the fucker was down. The only time any attacks landed were when he got socked in the jaw and—
Oh fuck. Right before the guy withered into nothing, the creepy bastard mumbled something and spat blood right into Habit’s face. It didn’t get in his mouth, but he supposed it still did damage, poison maybe? But what kind of poison gives you a raging hard-on?
Fumbling with his keys, he stumbled in. Delirious, out of breath and hot. It was so fucking hot, this was such bullshit; he wanted to get back and do something nice with you. He’d been a dick yesterday, therefore he had to balance it out today.
Fill the tub, relax with those stupid bath bombs you loved so much, and now all he could think about was crawling out of his own skin. Huffing, he fell back onto the couch, not even bothering to change. Finally reaching down to give himself some relief. Realistically, it’d probably take shorter than he’d like to admit. Though it’s not like you’re home to catch him.
His jaw grew slack as the room filled with nothing but heavy pants. Chest heaving with exertion, and his head lolled to the side. It’s been what? Five minutes? And he was already so close, pre running down the length of his cock, staining the sofa. His thighs were twitching, his movements harsh, tugging up and down, desperate for release. It keeps building and building and building. Fuck-fuck— and then-
Nothing.
Like someone slapped duct tape over his tip and walked away laughing at him. Freezing, he sits up. Blinking in shock, what the fuck?
Looking down to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating jacking off, ok. Maybe he just needed some extra stimulation, pulling himself up, he rounds the hallway into the bedroom. The frayed pillow case was cool under his hand, and he propped it up on the mattress.
He felt like a horny teenager with no experience, I mean, seriously? Humping your partner’s pillow was embarrassing. Absolutely degrading. He would rather fucking die than let you view him in this state. However, his dick was starting to hurt, and it’s not like you’d know.
Sighing, he leaned back on his haunches. Lining up with the cushion. His cheeks burned as he started to rock into the sheets, muscles tensing. Habit closed his eyes, falling forward and using his weight for leverage. Face flat on the bed, stretching, straining.
Repetitive thumps echoed out, and he wished he could put a bullet into his head. What the actual fuck was he doing? In all his years, this had to be the worst thing he’d ever been through.
Nearly clawing at the cotton, kitten scratches against linen, it felt so good- but it wasn’t enough. Every time he’d speed up, get close, it’d fall flat. Getting cut off like a leaky tap. Not enough-not enough- clumsily rolling over, he tried to think. Emphasis on the tried, his thoughts were incoherent, overlapped. He just wanted to fucking cum. Why was this so difficult?
Desperate times call for desperate measures; he’s heard about stimulation from other places. You’d even joked about it before, “Oh my god, Bitty, your chest is so soft-“ a passing comment he’d glared at you for. But now he’s about to cry out of frustration, so what’s a man to do?
Touch his tits like a slut. Obviously.
God, if you could see him right now, he’d guarantee you would never let him live it down; The Habit himself. Lying flat on his back, shirt rolled up, hands on his chest. Crying for attention, he was wet. Like a girl.
Cock making a puddle on his stomach, fingers playing with his swollen nubs. They were plumper than usual; over-sensitive and puffy. Made him whine out, brows furrowed in concentration. His tongue felt like a dead weight in his mouth; this was mortifying.
He was so goddamn reactive. Every press onto his chest sent him mewling like a cat in heat. Feather light caressing, and he was arching off the bed, thrusting into the air. It looked like he had gone at least three rounds already with the amount of slick smeared from the couch to the bed.
Pinching and squeezing, biting down on his lower lip. Pecs glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. His lips bitten raw.
He didn’t know how or when he had started thinking like a degenerate; maybe it was a curse. The amassed sin that had finally come for him, or perhaps this haze was starting to eat at the vessel’s brain.
Either way, the idea of being used and manhandled like a toy sounded absolutely fucking gold right now.
Teetering on the edge, so close he could taste it and then nothing. Nada, zero, zilch. Tears gathering at his lash line, he was about to start sobbing. It hurt, it hurt so bad. Sore and exhausted, nothing was working—
Click.
The sound of the front latch unlocking. He tried to say your name, yet the only thing that came out was an unintelligible gurgle.
ᯓ★
Work had been draining- even so, it had been a good day.
Shutting the door behind you, you set the shoes on the rack. And with your coat hung up, you called for your lover.
The house was dark, but his boots were right there. You knew he was home, so why was it so silent? Maybe he was asleep, absently humming as you padded down the hall. Carefully peeking through the frame to catch a glimpse of your cozy boyfriend.
Accept the last thing he was, was sleeping.
Sprawled across your shared bed, clothes half on. Panting with tears running down his face, he weakly threw his arm out. Tapping the sheets beside him, like it took all his power to do so, with his other hand shoved up his shirt.
Wobbly pout in a pathetic attempt to call for you, “Habit? What happened?” You’ve seen him horny, but never like this. He looked needy. It was cute, adorable even. Big glossy eyes darting back in forth, face flushed. His hair was awfully dishevelled, sticking up in all directions when he whined.
Your pretty baby.
Sitting down next to him, you reached out. Caressing his cheek, Habit nuzzled into you, “Please.” He said the confession with such despair. Shame was evident across his features, as if it pained him to even form the words. He was always so self-assured, cocky to a fault, to see him like this did terrible things to your heart.
“Want me to take care of you?”
Nodding, he squirmed. You’ll give him a break for now, just because he seems one sarcastic comment away from bawling his eyes out.
Gently, you slid a finger up his cock, teasing while he stared at you. Finally grasping him in your hand after a couple seconds, you get to work. Stroking him hard and fast.
He violently jerked off the mattress, head thrown back. Spewing pleas mixed with cusses. Schlick Schlick Schlick- it sounded so wet, messy and frantic. He’s babbling, drooling as he humped into your hand. It was clear he was trying to fight it.
Writhing with his teeth grit, it felt like he couldn’t decide between leaning into your touch or away. His pride wouldn’t let him fully enjoy it either, so he was stuck in limbo. Habit’s brain was a storm of agony at this point, he’d have to kill you after this. He had to.
From your perspective- this was jarring to say the least. His unbothered, almost leisurely day-to-day persona had fizzled out. In its place, a puppy in heat.
With a final gasp, his entire body thrashes under your hold. However, instead of a lovesick gaze, or maybe even soft snores; You’re met with a frustrated groan. Flicking your eyes back up to his face, Habit looked utterly devastated. Like he’d lost a loved one, sniffling and crying so hard he almost choked on the grief.
It was erotic at first, but now you’re starting to lean more towards concern. “Did something happen? Did you take anything-“ he cut you off with a gruff “No.”
This is the most defeated you’d ever seen him. “Fought some guy earlier- was weak, b-but he got me. S’makin me feel hot- I need— I can’t.” His skin is feverish to the touch, clammy. “Okay, um- let’s run you a bath, ok? Maybe if we cool you down, it’ll help.” Shifting to stand, a hand shoots out, grip tight around your wrist. You almost trip on top of him, the force shocking compared to his otherwise shaky hold.
“No- no nonono- you have to- fuck. Fix it.” he’s rambling, close to throwing a tantrum at the idea of you doing anything but him. It’s like a personality switch, even the tone of voice he was using, it was different; whinier, more high-pitched.
After a lot of back and forth, brainstorming even, before you asked about the mysterious man.
Had he been drugged? It was a street fight, though. How would it have even taken place?
“I-it was a fuckin’- he spat some shit at my face. I don’t know- just- ugh.”
Huh. Okay, and the attack was somehow aphrodisiac based? This had to be the most perplexing situation you’d been in.
You had tried everything, and his poor cock seemed raw from the constant stimulation. Then, it’s like a light bulb went off. A terrible light bulb, but a light bulb nonetheless.
If external touch didn’t work, perhaps you needed to think outside the box. Or, in this case, inside the box. Debating the symptoms, the way it affected his mannerisms, and his overall body language. There was only one solution left. “Hm, does it feel hot-“ tracing a line down his abdomen, stopping right above his happy trail. “Here?” His head turned to look at you, eyes finding your hand.
“Hot? The hell are you talking about?-“
“Like inside, does it feel warmer right here?”
“Ah- y-yea I guess? Why-“
All you needed was confirmation. Yanking his damp sweats down to his ankles, you began to pry his heavy thighs apart as he let out a startled yelp. “Hey! What the fuck are you-” You barely heard him, one track mind with a goal set in stone. No need for lube when basically every part of him was slippery wet from… something.
“I’m gonna try a thing, ok? Tell me if it hurts or gets too uncomfortable.” All he does is blink at you from above, tilting his head to the left, like a giant, docile cat. You’ve domesticated a tiger.
Well, almost domesticated. Snarl still evident on his lips, and he scowled. He wanted to die. Fuck this stupid body. Fuck the guy who spit on him, and fuck you.
Collecting slick with your fingers, you circle his tight opening before slowly pushing in. Habit bucked his hips, letting out a choked gasp. And when you opened your mouth to ask if he was alright- he came, hard.
It shot up so far it splattered on his face. Thick and white, dripping down his chest. He grabbed your wrist, pressing it deeper, eyes wide and frantic like he’s doing it on pure instinct. Literally hiccuping as he rides out the high. Head struck back, body rigid aside from the grind of his hips.
And that’s how you got here. Your brooding lover bent over against every goddamn surface in your house, begging to be stuffed full.
The previous discovery’s afterglow was short-lived; if anything, it made him needier. Like giving a spoonful of liquid gold to a starving man. He was pressed against the wall, legs spread, with your bruising grip on his waist. The height difference was comedic, his petite little lover, spreading him open from the back. Your hips were languid, lazily thrusting into him.
Time and time again, he’d spun his sadism on you. Mean and unyielding, he’d have you in tears. Begging for a mercy that he would refuse to give you with a grin on his face.
So you were cruel. Giving him no warning as you slammed forward. Fucking him hard and fast. The whiplash that shot through his system was only second to life-or-death adrenaline.
PLAP PLAP PLAP!
Skin on skin bouncing through the room, Habit squeaked. He sounded like a fucking mouse, words stuck in his throat, “uh uh uh- ngh-“ falling from his lips as you ruined him for anyone else. It burned him from the inside out, heat coiling in his stomach. Hand grabbing at the arms wrapped around him, he wanted you closer, closer than close, really. He wanted to be bred. Fucked and filled.
Your name was an endless mantra; he couldn’t think of anything else. Make shift strap thumping against his prostate over and over again, mind numbing in all its divine glory. “Jesus fuck- shit. Harder- go harder-“
He was a broken record, all the times he’s heard this from you, and never once could he imagine it’d be in his own voice. Then, he’s cumming, all over the wall.
It’s abrupt, thighs twitching and he clawed at your hold. Panting, this was the— what round? He’d lost count after the fifth, if he was going to be honest.
Your pace didn’t waver, just slowing down a tad as you rut in and out of his abused hole. Sweat and cum mixed running down his legs, the cleaning was going to be a field day for sure.
Pulling him off the wall, you bent him over the dresser, the mirror right in front. He was gorgeous. Hair sticking to his face, swollen lips a pretty pink.
The second you slid back in, his eyes rolled so far back he thought he could see his skull. Mouth permanently open as he grips the wooden edge. He’s slobbering like a mutt, drool staining his chin, punched “ah-ah oh, fuck-“ forced out of his throat. You’re lost in it, power going to your head; it’s a rush unlike anything else. Seeing him like this- hearing him like this. When a panic-struck “Wa-wait!” Snaps you out of it, Habit’s half-lidded eyes found yours in the reflection, “it’s- it’s fuckin’- I don’t know- shit.”
Too bad you were just as sadistic as he was. Leaning back, you dragged the silicone cock out. Ramming back into him, putting all your weight into the movement. Gummy walls squeezing down at the intrusion; he’s screaming, literally screaming. You hope the neighbours had an early night because he was wailing so hard his voice cracked.
Falling face-first into the mirror, heavy breaths fogging up the glass. His legs gave out a while ago; the only thing supporting his body was the table and your hands.
You disregarded Habit’s pleas and cries, hips snapping against his. “No- s’gonna be- fuck- embarrassing- you can’t— you can’t. Get off- get off, fuck.”
There’s such desperation in his words, and it gets you off. He can’t fucking think, it’s so good, you’re fucking him so fucking good.
His arms went limp on the dresser, and you hauled him up. One hand gripping his hair, the other sinking into the fat of his waist. Animalistic, he’s sobbing and shaking, to the point of concern, but you’re both too far gone to care.
Habit wildly palms at his cock, grip tight and unrelenting as he continued to beg. “You don’t get it- some- oh fuck- hah- somethings s’gonna-“
Arching back against you, grip harsh as he tries not to cum. Unfortunately, the logic that overtook him wasn’t strong enough to stay- and the hold that was supposed to help his situation started to feel good.
The force of your thrusts caused his hand to slip, and it was so tight, so wet, it had him keening. “Hate you- fucking hate you- ah-“
He chokes mid-sentence, gagging on the pleasure. Cum sputtering out and painting the wardrobe. He falls, bringing you with him, splayed out on the cold floor as he shakes. It’s more watery, thinner, and there’s so much of it. Gushing out of him in waves, and every time he’d twitch, it’d spill onto the tiles.
Flipping him over on his back, you force his knees to his chest. And he’s so pliant, fucking drunk off it. Because this time, when you fill him to the brim. He laughs. He actually fucking laughs, slurred and dazed out of his mind.
The endorphins made him high; it’s cute. Cute enough for you to force your strap back into him. Manhandling your lover as you fuck him balls deep like he deserves.
Calloused hands wrapped around his own thighs, putting himself on display. Body jolting with each shove and pull, head limp, giggling. Snickers being cut off by squeaks and moans, eyes crossing when you hit so deep he saw fucking stars. Habit couldn’t even remember his own name. Was it really that bad to be a cock sleeve for the rest of his life if it felt like this?
Switching between cursing out your bloodline when his self awareness would kick back in, and losing his mind to lust- he couldn’t even begin to fathom the shame that would arrive tomorrow.
It’s everywhere. Smeared and splattered on walls and tables, soaking the sheets. Puddle on the floor. He goes quiet when he spasms, borderline gagging. Fighting for air, silence cut by short frenzied “Guh- unh ah-“s. It’s been hours, and he finally looks satisfied. You start a mental checklist of things to do, pressing a soft kiss to his hairline. Soft snores ringing out, wow. He really was a pretty sleeper.
So cute.
— ^ ^ —
Straight porn. I didn’t try I was just bricked icl. This is so whorish of me 😭😭😭 but I NEED THAT COOKIE 💔💔💔💔
habit in heat with bunny!reader who just wont stop bouncing and habit is so fucked out of his mind but sososo happy he chose the most perfect bun that is more freaky than him, always begging him to hold her in a headlock or have a knife against her throat
he didnt realize you planned this all out, keeping up with his heat/rut cycle just to take an aphrodisiac so that you could ensure that you would be able to keep up with him and more ♡
what do we think♪(´ε｀*)
what do we think? i think im cumming.
cw: habit, kinda sub!habit??, sub!reader, bunnyhybrid!reader, mention of aphrodisiacs, kinda dark themes?? habit is unaware of reader taking an aphrodisiac, smut, breeding, unprotected sex.
habit genuinely thinks he’s about to die. that evan’s body is finally giving up and now was the moment.
but if he were lucid, he’d give you the biggest handshake ever.
you, sweet and gentle you. you’re so fucking evil, he thinks. keeping track with his ruts and taking that aphrodisiac without telling him.
despite you saying you just wanted to surprise him, he knows it’s not only because of that. he knows that you love this. the need, the tension, the way your tummy coils tight and especially the way he goes nearly braindead because your pussy is just too good and he can’t think straight.
a part of his ego is bruised—getting outsmarted like this by his dumb bunny, but he’s also damn proud of you for having the balls of pulling something like this.
his eyes are barely open, but he wants to see. the way you keep bouncing on his cock, how your hips seem to open with every thrust, how your hands are on his chest, how your expression is so heavenly.
damn, you look beautiful. he has to admit. your lips are swollen from the intense one hour long make out you just had, and your teeth catch on the bottom lip to stifle your moans.
his eyes track down to your tits and he’s almost mesmerised by how they bounce with each movement. returning to his path, he looks down to your tummy.
he can see the bulge in your lower stomach every time you take him to base and it makes him whine and buck his hips up to meet your movements.
his hands are gripping onto your hips, holding for dear life as you just can’t stop moving on his lap.
youre blabbing about how good he feels, how big his cock is and how it stretches you out so well.
he’s honestly too out of it to understand and he’s sure he’s also blabbing something along the lines of “gonna knock you up,” and “gonna fuck you to death,” although he’s not sure.
what he’s sure of, is that he’s fucking drooling. he can feel a wet, sticky sensation drip down from the corner of his mouth.
he parts his lips, but you beat him to that when you reach down to lick a long stripe from his chin to his mouth.
he moans, returning the kiss. it’s all tongue and teeth and he’s pretty sure he bumped his teeth into your bottom lip, because he tastes blood.
which is not helping his case, really. his arms wrap around you, holding you tightly as his hips jerk up in a fast and unforgiving pace.
it makes you gasp and moan into his neck as he holds you still and uses you like his personal fleshlight. you don’t mind, obviously. after all, this has been your plan all along.
your mouth is latched on his neck like a leech, sucking deep purple hickeys all along his skin.
“fuck, mm—“ he moans, “come here, bun.”
you tilt your head up only to kiss him again, and he kisses back. the kiss was filthy to say the least, but it made the coil in your lower tummy burn.
you wrap your lips around his tongue and suck on the muscle, just to mimic how you usually suck his cock.
he moans louder; lips parted and tongue out with his eyes rolled back as his hips jerk up into your cunt.
it doesn’t matter how many times you cum, or how many times he cums. the feeling of your cunt milking him dry has him fucking you until he’s shooting blanks.
synopsis: now that the akasha terminal has been shut down, sumeru city dreams once more. alhaitham has begun dreaming for the first time in over a decade, and all of his dreams always lead back to you
word count. ❤︎ 6.4k words — pls trust it’s not that long just give it a chance for me okay pleaseeeeeee
before you read. ❤︎ female reader ; established relationship ; canon compliant ; yearning alhaitham ; discussions of marriage and weddings ; alhaitham stresses over bringing up proposing to you ; hand jobs ; implied cunnilingus ; wet dreams + male masturbation ; semi mentioned unprotected vaginal sex + creampies ; alhaitham comes in his boxers ; small references to his parents and grandmother ; banter and fluff as always
commentary. ❤︎ my last fic of 2025!! omg 🥹❤️
Alhaitham has recently started dreaming, and they are rather strange dreams, at that.
People in Sumeru were unable to dream not too long ago. Or, at least, the fully grown ones with access to the akasha terminal were unable—and Alhaitham is very much an adult who had full access to said terminal until just a bit ago. He has long been eighteen, which legally dictates his rights as an adult Sumeru citizen with full autonomy, without the need for a guardian. He is also well past the threshold of twenty-one, which, according to extensive, peer-reviewed Akademiya research on brain and body development, marks the official onset of adulthood.
By all measurable standards, he qualifies as an adult, and adults in Sumeru did not dream. They have not for as long as he can remember—and yet, he dreams now. For the first time in over a decade, in fact.
The dream today is pleasant.
He’s warm and content, lying with sunlight filtering through closed curtains and spilling across his face. His breathing stays slow and even, lips parting as if he’s about to speak, though no words come. Only a faint sound slips from him, and it’s barely more than a hum. His fingers twitch once, loosening instead of tightening, and the crease between his brows smooths out entirely. He likes what he is seeing—in fact, it leaves him content enough to relax.
He shifts, just slightly, chasing the feeling as it begins to fade, as his consciousness seems to win over.
And then his dream has faded completely.
He wakes to the feel of your palm on his cheek, warm and gentle as your fingers trace lightly over his skin, grounding him. “Wake up,” you whisper, voice laced with worry. “Are you okay?”
Two teal eyes, kissed with amber, blink open slowly—unfocused, drowsy, and slightly confused until they settle on you.
“I’m fine,” he mumbles, though his voice sounds a little too quiet to be convincing. Though he’s not upset for the reasons you seem to think.
“Nightmare?” you ask. “You were mumbling in your sleep.”
“No,” he groans as he stretches—and then he tugs you close, bringing you flush against him, your cheek pressed into his bare chest. You grin as soon as you settle into his warmth. “Nothing like that. It was a good dream.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t remember,” he says, closing his eyes. “Just that it was good.”
“Was I in it?” you poke his cheek.
He chuckles, grabbing your hand and pressing a kiss to your palm. “Hm, I don’t know if that would make the dream pleasant. That might just give me a headache instead.”
“So I wasn’t a part of your very good dream?” you gasp. He opens his eyes to glance at you, and he is met with a playful, accusatory glare. “Were you dreaming of other women, then?”
“Now, now,” he pats your back soothingly with the hand that rests at the small of it, “let’s not jump to unnecessary conclusions here. I told you, I don’t recall the dream. It’s hazy—but rest assured, I am not thinking of other women even when I am not in control of my thoughts.”
That is a lie.
Not that you need to know it, of course. But it’s a rather firm lie because Alhaitham remembers his dream very vividly. (Though he was honest about the fact that there were no other women involved—that part was very truthful.)
He does not make a habit of lying to you regularly. In fact, if anything, Alhaitham is honest to a fault. Some people (including you) have taken to letting him know that his honesty could do with a tad bit of softening before it is seen as a blow. But the fact is that he is always honest, and more importantly, he values being honest with you, of all people, above all else.
But this is a very hyper-specific scenario that he has never encountered before, and thus, being honest at this moment would leave him in a bit of a complicated predicament.
Alhaitham has been having dreams, and by no means are they normal dreams.
The first time, it started with a very sweet and endearing dream where he returned home to find you sitting on the couch. He envisioned in his mind the image of himself bringing home zaytun peaches that he happened to catch on his way back as he passed the market. Knowing that they’ve always been your favorite, he decided to be ever the doting boyfriend and bring them back for you.
Except he was not your boyfriend in this dream—at least, this is what he has since then deduced with his ever-so-brilliant mind. The evidence for that is in the fact that you called him dear instead of your usual baby, and you hand-fed him a slice of a peach as you murmured, have you put in your request for that day off next week yet? Our anniversary is getting closer, you know.
Now, that was a very odd detail in his dream, considering your anniversary is nowhere near the time of year when zaytun peaches are in season. Not even close. The only explanation could be that the anniversary had changed (because you now celebrate something different…like perhaps marriage) or because he simply got the date wrong in his mind when he conjured up this scene as he slept. But he chose not to dwell on it when he woke up because dreams are merely a manifestation of images, thoughts, and emotions that pass through the mind during sleep. They are not always accurate because they occur when the mind is not in the same state of consciousness as when it is awake—and any respected member of the Akademiya who has minimal levels of comprehension skills could decipher that from the Akademiya’s research documents from previous studies into dreams (that he has taken his position as Scribe to his advantage to get his hands on).
But then it got weirder.
The second time he dreamt of you, you were wearing a ring. Not just any ring—but his mother’s ring.
Grandmother, when he was younger and still determined to believe she would recover from being ill and stay by his side, had been very resolute in preparing him for when she would be gone. The first thing she had done was hand him his mother’s ring as she explained, this belonged to me before I passed it down to your father so he could propose with it. You don’t have to use it, of course, but do keep it safe for me, won’t you? And do promise me you’ll find a need for a ring one day, even if it’s not this particular one—I won’t rest well knowing you grew old all on your own, you stubborn boy.
His grandmother would have been pleased to know that Alhaitham has always known he would like to get married someday. He never put a lot of effort into seeking out a partner (until he met you, at least) because he was always under the impression that such encounters happen best when they occur naturally, and not with wasted effort by searching for them desperately. But he had always intended to settle down with a lifelong partner by his side—and not just because Grandmother had asked it of him before she passed. It’s because Alhaitham is only human, and even as much as he values his solitude, he knows a thing or two about loneliness and the aches that come alongside it.
So, when you are wearing the exact ring he has always planned to propose to his future partner with—the partner that he has only ever considered being you—in his dream, he is more than a little startled when he wakes up.
He is not startled because the image of you being his wife is a hard pill to swallow. If anything, it’s a rather fantastic sight. He is startled because the idea of making you his wife at the current moment is an idea neither of you has ever really entertained.
Marriage is something he has always resolutely believed was a commitment that would be brought up as a topic once you both were seriously involved with each other, comfortably established in your careers and finances, and properly on the same page about your agreements of what this would legally entail in order to officially merge your lives together on paper and pen. That conversation has not yet taken place, and he had wagered that it would take another year or two before you would get there.
But the third dream is really what shifts his views.
You’re next to him, pen in hand as you sign a certificate, and he follows after. By official Sumeru documentation, you are legally his wife, and he is legally your husband.
At least, that was the case until he woke up.
And Alhaitham has just not been very content with being your boyfriend anymore after such a vivid image in his mind—such a clear and hard-to-forget display of your love and the joy that comes with loving him, too, written all over your face.
How could he forget that?
The answer is that he does not. He does not forget that, and every added dream since has just been more and more vivid moments of sweet, post-marital bliss beside you. And Alhaitham is getting quite sick of being just your boyfriend and not your husband.
So he has to bring up the fact that he would like to be your husband. The only problem with that is that it never ends up being a good time.
Like right now, for example—he could just be honest with you about what he saw in his dream and be brave and broach the topic of marriage with you. He could sit you up, look you in the eye, and say, I’ve been dreaming about a future with you, and I want to make that future a reality because you are worth building a future with.
Instead, he melts into the mattress when your hands rub over his abs, feeling him up before wandering lower and lower and—oh, you’re doing that thing with your nails where you tease and rake them through that patch of hair that starts at his lower belly, right above the waistband of his boxers. He tells himself that it’s your fault for now that he was unable to bring up the topic because how can anyone focus with a touch like that?
“Sweetheart,” he mumbles, voice strained, “it’s too early to be a tease.”
“Being a tease is how I like to start my day,” you pout. “It energizes me.”
“Well, it shaves off years of my life,” he responds through a breathy grumble—and then you decide (after you’ve had a good giggle at his misery, of course) that you’ll be merciful.
Your hand palms over his underwear and rubs along his half-hard cock, making him bury his face into the crook of your neck as his breath turns heavy. It doesn’t take a lot of work on your end to get him fully erect—and maybe he’d be a bit embarrassed by that, but you don’t give him too long to dwell on it before your hand is tuckin into his boxers and freeing his cock from the terrible, confining prison that is the fabric that covers him. He hisses when he feels himself meet the cool air of the morning, and then he tapers off to a soft moan as you gently smear the pre cum at his tip and stroke slowly.
“You’re feeling generous this morning,” he croaks hoarsely.
You grin as you kiss the side of his head and hum, “It’s important that I remind you how lucky you are so you don’t make mistakes you’ll regret. Even in your dreams.”
“I’m not sure that was something we had to ever worry abou—ngh,” he cuts himself off with a grunt as you tighten your grip around him and properly set a pace for your hand to drag along his thick, hardened length. You have touched Alhaitham enough times to know exactly what he likes and how he likes it. How he enjoys it when you fist him quickly along the tip only for a bit before slowing down and taking your time with precise strokes along his entire length, squeezing at the base.
His thighs spread to give you better access as he burrows deeper into your neck, burying his sounds into the crook of your neck while you take your time feeling the throbbing heat of him pressed into your fisted hand. He’s hot. Flushed and sweaty just from this, and the way he cuts himself off from having better access to air when he hides his face into you doesn’t really help.
“Feel good?” you murmur.
“You…you already know that answer,” he pants.
“I like to hear about the fruits of my labor,” you tease, “if you would kindly give me a review.”
“A review?” he asks, mildly amused. He cannot be amused for too long, however, because you give the base of his cock a little squeeze, and he twitches in your hand and makes a sound that borders on a whine. “Fuck,” he moans.
“I’ll take the sound of that as a good sign,” you grin, “but still, a review of my efforts would be insightful, you see. I like to know that I’m meeting your expectations.”
“You are,” he mumbles, his voice breathless and shaky, “b-but…but I’m afraid I can’t say much until we’ve concluded. For research.”
“For research,” you agree.
And then you quicken your pace, and stroke him faster, and he chokes on a strangled groan before planting his feet onto the mattress and bucking his hips up into your fist and meeting your fist. The familiar ache between his legs builds and builds and builds until suddenly, it snaps in the form of a coil in his belly and erupts with a sensation that jolts through every nerve in his body. He spills into your hand, hot and messy ropes of his cum coating both your fist and the muscled, defined expanse of his abs.
You’ve always liked that display. He can tell that your eyes are focused on the mess he’s making on himself without even looking at you, and he’s luckily too busy with being lost in his own pleasure to be disgruntled by your never ending favortism towards always making him feel very shy.
“So,” you murmur, “how was it? Honest review, please.” He’s silent for a moment, and then you giggle as you add, “Or have I tired you out already?”
Just a moment longer, and he’s lifting his head from the safety of your neck, eyeing you with a rather challenged look as he asks, “Is that what you think?”
“Yes,” you nod smugly.
He gives a dry chuckle before detangling himself from you—before you can protest and ask why he’s leaving, he’s already crawled to that familiar place between your legs, lifting the ends of your (his) shirt and revealing your soaked underwear as he spreads your thighs to accommodate him when he licks through the fabric at your folds. You shiver when his nose bumps your clit.
“I have more research to do before I can give any conclusive results,” he murmurs into your cunt, pressing a kiss through the drenched cloth. “I’ll let you know how you’ve met my expectations in a short moment when I see for myself how quickly you can come undone for me.”
Then he expertly tugs your panties down your legs, buries himself between your thighs like he’s done a million times before, and he has long forgotten his dreams because he is too busy thoroughly enjoying his very rewarding reality.
Getting rid of the akasha terminal was the worst decision Alhaitham has ever helped make.
At first, the dreams he started to have as a result of banning the akasha terminal were making him ache for a certain future with you that he can not currently attain before he gathers enough courage to speak to you about, but now his dreams are just torturing him.
They shift without warning.
This time, in his dream, you’re close—closer in a way that he is not unfamiliar with, but a way that still makes his hands shake like it’s his first time. Your arms are wrapped around his neck and tugging him towards you, drawing him in with an ease that makes his thoughts scatter.
Your mouth brushes his.
Once. Twice.
It’s unhurried, but it’s messy—the kind of kiss that lingers just long enough to make his chest feel tight, but is urgent enough to make his pants tighten, too. Except, conveniently, he has already shed his pants in his dreams. The only thing he has to worry about in this scenario is responding to your kiss and tilting his head, tongue pressing against yours, and exploring your mouth. There’s the faintest sound in the back of his throat—a reflexive sound that makes you hum in appreciation at his eagerness.
His body reacts before his mind can catch up to the fact that this is just a dream.
In reality, his brow creases faintly as warmth pools low, right between his thighs in a very distracting manner. The sheets are tangled around his legs as he exhales through parted lips, breath no longer quite as steady as it was a few moments ago. A soft, incoherent murmur slips out—your name, almost, though it dissolves into something unintelligible halfway through.
In the dream, you smile against his mouth at the sound of that murmur.
In the real world, in his bed, his hand twitches briefly by the fabric near his waist before he stills again, clearly uncomfortable by the building ache between his legs, but unwilling to wake. His breathing deepens, uneven now, heat blooming beneath his skin everywhere in a rather frustrating way.
Fuck me, Haitham, you plead in his mind, fuck me like it’s your first time fucking your wife. And he does. In the vivid little scene running in his sleep-hazed mind, he is pressing into your slick cunt and feeling your walls hug tightly around his aching cock. He is feeling you squeeze and flutter around him as he rolls his hips and chases that familiar friction from his length sliding along your warm walls.
And that apparently is what he is feeling in his reality, too, because his hand is mirroring that friction with movement that is in sync with every thrust in his imagination. It’s a much less satisfying version of things—his hand palming his cock through his underwear is hardly comparable to the pleasure-filled haven that is your cunt. But he is lucky enough to be unconscious to actually make the comparison.
And then he falls apart—both in his dream and his reality. One second, he’s kissing you deeply as you gasp his name and he groans yours, spilling his seed into that perfect little pussy that he gets to fuck all to himself…and then the next second, he’s twitching his hips to rut into his own hand as he soils his boxers with his release.
His eyes blink open, bleary and tired and incoherent as he tries to gather his surroundings. He looks down, takes a glance at his hand, stares at his own mess as he gathers his thoughts, and comes to the realization of what has taken place as soon as his sharp mind puts together all the scattered pieces.
Fuck.
He has to find a way to stop this nonsense. Dreaming of fucking you on your honeymoon has to be the most pathetic low he’s ever sunken to—a cowardly low, even. If he cannot bring himself to have this very important discussion with you about where he wants to take your relationship, then he does not earn himself the right to picture you in such intimate and explicit ways and then…get off to them.
He rubs his good hand over his face before he pauses, and his blood runs cold.
If that was a dream…and he’s very much awake in bed—a bed he shares with you—then…
His head snaps toward your side of the mattress. It’s empty.
His heart squeezes with relief and drops with panic all at once—he wasn’t aware that was even possible. By the end of this, he might have to see a cardiologist if he manages to survive this heart attack, and he’s suddenly most grateful for Sumeru’s free healthcare. The idea of you noticing that he’s had a salacious dream about you would certainly be one form of torture, but the idea of having you notice that he’s come in his underwear from a salacious dream about you would be downright cruel and unusual punishment, and he would really, really prefer it if you weren’t here to notice that.
Thankfully, by the grace of the Dendro Archon, you are not.
And that part confuses him greatly, because he doesn’t hear you in the kitchen making breakfast, nor in the living room, conversing with Kaveh. He tiredly sits up, blinking against the lingering haze of sleep, and scans the room before his eyes land on a piece of folded parchment resting neatly on his nightstand.
He reaches for it, and the handwriting is unmistakably yours as he unfolds it.
Ran to the market real quick! I didn’t want to wake you—you looked too cute and peaceful. I’ll be back soon. I just want to grab a couple of things to make you your favorite for breakfast.
Love you ♡
He exhales slowly, shoulders dropping as the tension eases out of him all at once.
Relief settles in his chest, followed almost immediately by something softer. Affection. Fondness. The heart-fluttering knowledge that you thought of him first thing in the morning, and that you’d gone out of your way just to do something nice. For him.
Alhaitham slumps back to sink into the mattress, staring at the note in his hand longer than necessary. He has never wanted to marry you so badly in his life—which is saying something because marrying you has been the only thing on his mind for weeks now.
Today, he thinks determined, he will have this conversation with you. He tries to ignore that heavy, sinking feeling at the bottom of his stomach.
Alhaitham knows you love him. Some might even make the mistake of thinking that you love him more than he loves you (which he thinks is impossible—he has certainly fallen first, and harder) because you are so easily outward with your affections for him. You touch him so effortlessly, grabbing his hand and rubbing his arm and wrapping yourself around him like it’s second nature to mold into him. You lean up and press chaste but sweet kisses into his cheek and jaw, and make it seem like it’s nothing. You are not shy about loving him—careful to keep it professional and respectable under the public eye, yes, but never secretive.
It is common knowledge to anyone that you are head over heels for him, and to doubt it himself would be to discredit the carefully built love that you have nurtured in your heart and gifted him. He would never doubt your affections.
But he can certainly doubt himself.
Alhaitham is not an easy man to love. He knows that. He knows he can be terribly stubborn on his beliefs and blunt with his words, and in the past, he knows he has not always been the easiest person to rely on as a friend. He can only imagine what having him as a partner is like. He can only imagine how much patience and grace you’ve afforded him, and wonders if he, of all people, is worth all that effort.
Perhaps right now, when you are two people who are living separate lives side by side under the same roof, entangled by proximity and affection, you will say he is worth it. You will say he is worth it now because you are not caged to his imperfections and forced to accept them, and you can realize later down the line that he was always an inevitable mistake. But perhaps…if he asks you to consider marrying him, and you truly ponder on the weight of that, you will decide something else.
If you marry him, your life will bleed into his.
He’ll add your name to his property, and this house will also be yours in the documents and not just in his heart. You’ll take his last name and become his family in the records. You’ll be able to make decisions on his behalf if he’s ever lying on a hospital bed due to heart failure from one of your ridiculous stunts (you’ve had many of those, and he feels it’s only a matter of time).
If you marry him, your life and his will no longer be two parallel lines that are as close to each other as possible without touching—instead, you’ll merge like a forked road that finally becomes one. And maybe you’ll realize that maybe you are caged, and maybe it’s all a greater deal of nonsense than it’s worth to put up with someone like him and all his imperfections.
And he would never blame you. The reality is, Alhaitham could never find it in himself to blame you for being so practical. If you told him today that you could never see yourself marrying him, then he would never blame you.
You’re being a jerk, his heart screams, she’s put up with you long enough, hasn’t she? She’d never stay this long if she didn’t think you were worth it. Have faith.
You’ve always been a jerk, his mind argues, and she’ll finally wake up and realize it when you hit her with something as serious as marriage. Be realistic.
Before he can dwell on it any longer, the front door opens, and your cheery little voice that lights up his whole world calls out, “Haitham, come quick! You’ll never believe it! Someone from Inazuma had a stall at the market today! You have to see all the things I got—they were such a steal!”
He snorts, smiling fondly to himself.
And just like that, his heart and mind stop arguing and come to one undeniable agreement: he is hopelessly in love with you…and your likely terrible sense of what constitutes a good deal.
Alhaitham knows he is acting strange, and worse—he knows he’s worrying you.
For starters, he kisses you long and hard in the doorway when you come home from the market. A lingering kiss from him isn’t entirely out of character, but typically, he defaults to at least scrutinizing your total mora spending before kissing your lips senseless against the doorframe. This time, he doesn’t even glance at the bags in your hands. He simply cups your face and kisses you like he needs to remind himself that you are real.
You’ve been worried about him lately—he knows you’re perceptive enough to have pieced it together by now that something has been on his mind. The vivid dreams have been leaving him disoriented some mornings, and he hasn’t done a particularly good job of hiding it. He drifts, stares off into nothing, goes quiet in a way that’s different from his usual contemplative silence. Ever since the akasha terminal was dismantled, Sumeru City has been collectively adjusting to the unfamiliar reality of dreaming—of remembering these dreams, and feeling them linger. He’d hoped that this shared discomfort would be enough to reassure you that he wasn’t an anomaly.
But after that kiss, he sees it plainly in your expression—the concern is only worsening. And that decides it. He will not delay this conversation any longer. Not if his silence is costing you peace of mind, and not if his cowardice is turning into something that hurts you.
“Sit with me,” he says quietly, setting your bags aside before you can protest.
You follow him as he pulls you to your bedroom, brows faintly knit together the entire walk there. When you both settle down, he sits close—close enough that your knees brush, and close enough that you can feel the tension radiating off him. He folds his hands together, and there’s a long pause.
Too long. He’s stalling—and Alhaitham never stalls a difficult conversation. He always prefers to have them done and out of the way.
“Haitham,” you murmur gently, “you’re scaring me a little.”
“You don’t have to worry,” he says immediately. “This isn’t a serious matter. Well—it’s a serious topic, of course, but the matter at hand isn’t an emergency, is what I mean.”
“That was not reassuring,” you deadpan.
His lips twitch despite himself, glancing at you fondly. “I’ve been thinking,” he begins, measured and careful, “about the long-term logistics of this relationship.”
You blink. And then your face drops. “...Oh.”
And then he wants to kick himself—what in Teyvat was he thinking? That sounds like an opening to a breakup for anyone who has ears, and you clearly have ears.
“It’s not what you think it is,” he says quickly, “I promise.
You stare at him, a little crestfallen. “Is…is everything okay?”
“No.”
“Oh,” your voice comes out even smaller than before—if that’s even possible, “I…I see.”
He shoots you a look of pure alarm, then sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m trying to say this correctly, and it’s not coming out that way at all.”
You chew your lip, shifting closer. “Okay. Then don’t say it correctly. Just say it how it is.”
He’s silent for a long moment—it’s a tense silence, and it eats away at both of you. Finally, you both break the silence at the same time.
He says: I want to marry you, at the same time that you ask: Do you want to break up?
You pause. He recoils.
And then, he asks you in an incredulous tone, “Why would I ever want to break up with you?”
You ignore him as you breathe, “You want to…get married?
He swallows thickly as he stares down at his hands. “Yes.”
“Like,” you clarify with furrowed brows, “eventual marriage? Or right this instant marriage?”
He snorts quietly. “We can’t plan a wedding right this instant; that would be rather impractical.”
You smile despite yourself. All the earlier worries seem to fade, and there’s a light broken over your face that wasn’t there before. “Okay, that at least makes a little more sense.”
He opens his mouth—then closes it. His jaw tightens, and for the first time since this conversation started, his composure visibly wavers. Your face and tone suggest that you are happy—but…Alhaitham’s mind is a complex thing. It works and works and works things from angles that even he doesn’t always realize he can create.
You seem to sense his unease.
“It’s not that this topic makes no sense,” you explain softly. “But it feels sudden. Not that it’s a bad thing. Just…like I said, it’s sudden, that’s all.”
He swallows. “That’s because I didn’t intend to bring it up yet,” he admits. “But continuing to delay it has started to feel miserable.”
“And why is that?”
“Because…because I’ve realized that I would like to marry you sooner rather than later, unlike I had originally planned, and…that realization has been…persistent.”
You search his face, hand reaching to gently grab his and brush a thumb over his knuckles as you ask, “Persistent how?”
He hesitates, and you can almost just see the moment he caves and decides to stop holding back.
“I have very vivid dreams about you,” he starts. He pauses as soon as he does—that was not a very promising start to this conversation.
You look at him in confusion, blinking as you process the words. “Oh…” you trail off, fighting back a small, amused grin. “That’s…interesting.”
“Not weird ones!” Alhaitham adds quickly. He wants the ground to swallow him whole. Gods, if only it would. Burying him alive might actually be preferable to surviving this moment. “Just…intimate.”
Oh. And somehow, he’s made the situation even worse.
“Ah,” you nod, biting your lip to stifle a giggle, “I see.”
“That’s not what I meant!” he insists quickly.
“Oh, really? Then define intimate,” you raise a brow, giving him a knowing look.
“Intimate as in…not vulgar, okay?” he grumbles.
You snort, and he gives you a rather miserable look as you do. “Haitham, it’s okay if you do—it’s not really something to be ashamed of this late into our relationship,” you say, trying to be reassuring.
It does not feel very reassuring.
He wonders, briefly, if Dendro is powerful enough to split the ground beneath him and open a hole just deep enough to disappear into. He’s very competent at wielding his vision—surely he could make it work if he tried.
Clearing his throat, he exhales shakily. Then, with as steady a voice as he can manage (which is not very steady at all, given that his throat is still hoarse from where this conversation nearly derailed earlier), he speaks up.
“They are not vulgar,” he huffs. He refrains from adding, most of the time, like his mind instantly thinks. “The first one I had…I came home, and you were napping on the couch. I brought zaytun peaches because they’re your favorite. You cut them into slices, and we shared them.”
“Oh. Well, that’s very cute—”
“Just let me finish, please,” he turns to you, a little desperate. You shut your mouth and lift your free hand in surrender. He takes another breath before continuing. “The second one, you were…” He flushes deeply, heat creeping up his neck, “...wearing a ring.”
Your breath stills.
“My mother’s ring was on your finger,” he continues quietly. “And the third, we were signing documents. I’m sure you are intelligent enough to gather the context of this particular dream.”
You don’t say anything. Silence settles between you, heavy enough that it carves a pit into the bottom of his stomach.
“I keep having dreams like that,” he sighs, finally meeting your eyes. “Domestic, mundane ones. A future that is peaceful and easy. And you are always part of that future for me.” He exhales, shoulders tense. “I’m not trying to pressure you into anything you’re not ready for. I just—now that we can dream again, this is what my mind keeps returning to.”
You stare at him for a moment—and then you smile, and it’s soft, and fond, and suddenly your hands are cupping his cheeks.
“You know, silly,” you murmur gently, “you don’t have to tell me all your personal dreams just to say you’d like to talk about marriage.”
“So,” he says cautiously, “I take it this subject is not an uncomfortable one for you.”
“Why would it be?”
He shrugs. “Maybe you wouldn’t be ready.”
“Then I could just say so and ask you to give me some more time,” you counter.
“Or you’d realize marriage with me is not plausible,” he mumbles quietly.
“And why is that?” You ask, bewildered. He stays silent. For a long, long time, it’s silent until you gently nudge him and repeat, “Why is that, Haitham?”
“Because I am not the easiest person to…” he trails off before deciding on, “getting along with.”
“You are to me,” you smile softly, cupping his cheeks as you turn his face to meet yours. His eyes stare into yours pleadingly—begging you to tell him something that isn’t going to haunt him as a nightmare now that he has the wretched ability to dream. And you do. “Haitham, you’re easy for me, okay? I’m here, and I have been for so long because it’s easy when it’s you. And sure, sometimes things can get hard—but when do they not for anything? That doesn’t mean you’re not easy to be with. You’re the easiest thing I do.”
“That last part has multiple connotations,” he says quietly, giving you a pointed look.
“And now it’s getting hard,” you sigh.
He cracks a slightly smug grin at that. “Another double entendre,” he says, and he dodges the shove you aim for his shoulder before chuckling as he adds, earnestly this time, “but…I do feel better—really. So thank you. And I love you.”
“I love you, too,” you lean your head against his arm. “So can I see the ring?”
“Hm. That depends. Do you promise to say yes if I ask you to marry me in the future?”
You laugh quietly, reaching over to brush a thumb over his cheek as your hand cups his face. “You’re really asking me if I’d say yes?”
“Correct.”
“Haitham, I’d say yes if you asked me right now.”
“There is no need for that,” he says, giving you a flat, unimpressed look. “Please reserve that response for when I’ve planned a proper proposal.”
You giggle and lean in, pressing your forehead to his. “Okay, okay. I’ll be patient. But show me the ring.”
“It’s usually meant to be a surprise—”
“Please,” you whine. “Please, please, please? I’ll die if you don’t let me see it.”
“Unlikely,” he says dryly. But he’s already caving, you can see it as clear as day. He hesitates only a second longer before sighing and slipping his hand into his pocket, drawing out a small box and flipping it open. You choose not to comment on the fact that he carries it around like that so readily, instead focusing on admiring it. It’s a beautiful ring—your breath hitches just from looking at it. He places it in your palm carefully, letting you get a better look.
“Oh,” you say, and it feels like your heart is in your throat.
“I don’t want an answer,” he says quietly. “Not right now, at least—I’ll give you a proper moment to answer. I only wanted you to know that when I think about the future, whether it’s when I am asleep or awake, you’re always there.”
You sniffle, laughing a watery, shaky little laugh as you murmur, “You know something funny? It sounds like we’ve been dreaming about the same future all this time.”
His eyes widen for a moment before they soften. He chuckles and takes your face in his large, warm hands, cradling your cheeks carefully as he swipes away at the tears in the corner of your eyes. “Always so emotional,” he hums.
“Always so above emotions,” you counter, “who knew you could be so romantic?”
“You did,” he snorts, “aren’t I always romantic with you?”
“Yes,” you breathe—and your fingers tighten around the ring that is carefully kept in your grasp a little. “That, you certainly are.”
so my idea for this fic was like what if alhaitham started dreaming about marriage with his partner after the akasha terminal was banned and he slowly went insane thinking about it from yearning so hard and his partner was just nonchalantly having the same dreams and happily going about their day like yay! what a nice dream!
not that he’s uncaring. he just wants it hard. he just wants you so hard it hurts. his hips moving erratically, your breath hitching when he hits your sweet spots. going deeper, and deeper with snarls of frustration, as if his body isn’t enough. as if he wants to just slide in your skin, slide in your blood and fuck your core itself.
his hands grab your flesh, wanting your bones. they go up your neck, wanting your life. squeeze, wanting your fear. he stares down at you with small pupils, printing that picture of you fucked out below him.
“more…” he pants out, throbbing inside you. he wants so much more of you. it’s never enough. it’s never intense enough.
lohen’s hips move faster, digging himself in and out of you, his cock twitching hard between your walls. “more…more more more….” so hard you can feel every throb. “i can’t get enough, i can’t…” he growls out against your ear, releasing your neck for your hair, pulling your head back. “i’ll go fucking insane…” he bends over, and bites, moaning between his teeth.
your legs spread and close tightly around his hips, keeping him in place as he ruts on you wildly.
“you’ll take everything…every…” one thrust. “single…” another one, rougher. “drop of me.”
summary: after lohen and theodore‘s experiment was ended by varka and the others, he is ready to accept whatever punishment that awaits him, no matter what it is.
(lohen x fem!reader, (probably) ooc!lohen, masochist lohen, captain!reader, (lowkey) sadistic reader, sub!lohen, dom!reader, set after lohen‘s storyquest, therefore obviously spoilers.)
warnings: lowercase writing, english is not my first language, suggestive content, smut, pet play, bondage, slapping, condescending praise, degradation, grinding against boot, bit of manhandling, riding, light choking, unprotected sex.
there has been a lot going on these last days in Mondstadt.
the news about ursa the dragons flesh being used for reactivating the doctor‘s old experiment, and the death of the captain of the fifth company, adorno, spread around mondstadt, especially at the knights of favonius, rapidly.
the people behind it? lohen, the vice captain of the fifth company, and theodore.
you haven’t spoken with lohen since his little ‚experiment‘ got busted, more like that he’s been avoiding any sort of interaction with you. your day felt empty— without him practically begging if you would finally let him spar with you.
but you weren’t thinking about that too much— as a captain yourself, everyday of your life is packed with a lot of things.
paperwork, trainings, meetings— you could go on and on, but that would be useless.
useless especially— if you were trying to convince the grand master varka himself.
„grandmaster, are you seriously asking me to be the one in charge of the punishment lohen is going to be having?“
did the grandmaster seriously burst into your office this early in the morning to ask you this, or are you perhaps still half asleep?
varka laughed at your confusion, nodding his head.
„i am. i need to deal with a whole lot of stuff because of that guy, so i trust that you are able to handle giving lohen the punishment he deserves?“
your head tilted down, awkwardly staring at the ground.
lohen has always been trying to mess with you, trying to get you in all sorts of trouble just so he can have a laugh at you getting punished.
and you’re sure there are not any other people free to handle him right now— everyone has been working their hardest firstly in nodkrai and now with this experiment.
you also have to admit, you sure enjoy the idea of lohen obeying your every order— even if it means humiliating him or even torturing him.
seeing that maniac be stripped from his usual carefreeness, and listen to you with utter submission, is seriously making it hard for you to hold back a smile.
„alright, i will do it.“
varka smiled „haha— i knew i could count on you! just make sure it’s really a punishment for him— you know how he acts sometimes. enjoying pain and everything..“
yeah. just how will you truly make an punishment actually teach lohen a lesson?
„vice captain, captain [name] wants to see you in her office.“
one of his subordinates informed him.
lohen sighed, turning his head away, mindlessly chewing on his mint flavored bubblegum while spinning his knife by the sharp end.
he’s been avoiding you these last few days, and now you need to see him in your office?
„is it necessary?“
„yes, it’s an order from the grand master.“
lohen‘s knife stopped spinning, the gum now not being chewed on anymore, but his jaw stiffening.
„i’ll be there.“
every step lohen took to get to your office felt like an eternity.
you would probably ask him why he’s been avoiding you, but why is he even doing that? well, to be honest— lohen‘s just worried you’ll see him differently, weak, after finding out about his past with the doctor.
his hand rests over the doorknob, not yet opening the door.
did he look okay? he fought a lot of monsters these last few days, so maybe he’d have eyebags?
lohen shook his head. it doesn’t matter— why would he need to look pretty for you?
you’re just another person working as at the knights of favonius, nobody special to him.. right?
„archons, i sound pathetic.“ he sighs, before finally opening the door to your office.
your office was dimly lit, sheer curtains hanging over the windows, the room smelling of your perfume.
sitting at the desk in the middle of the office, was you— legs crossed, arms folded over your chest, while immediately staring right at him the moment he entered.
lohen seemed to find your window really interesting— according to the way he keeps staring at it while his cheeks slightly redden.
„take a seat, lohen.“
his body stiffened, before he obeyed, sitting down in the chair infront of your desk.
„what is it that you need from me? i have a lot of things i currently need to sort out—“
your voice cut him off in the middle of his sentence.
„I will keep it short. You know there’s still an punishment waiting for you?“
you tilt your head, your nails mindlessly tapping on the wooden table infront of you.
his eyes met yours, fingers fidgeting as he silently nodded.
„I know that.“
you smiled, your arms crossing.
„I am going to be in charge of it.“
his fingers stopped fidgeting, eyes shot open. did grandmaster varka seriously assign you to do it? he expected anyone but you.. what would you even do with him?
„w-what is it that i will need to do?“
will he be in solitary confinement?
you don’t answer him immediately, instead standing up, seemingly holding something behind your back.
you slowly walked to him, before standing right infront of him.
lohen couldn’t look you in the eyes— the way your taller frame was standing infront of him was being too much for him—
he suddenly heard an click— and felt something tight around his throat.
„you are going to be my pet for the rest of the week.“
lohen’s face immediately shot red— his fingertips touching the leather collar that was tightly wrapped around his throat.
this wasn’t anything lohen expected. did you mean it seriously? from the look of your face.. you’re dead serious.
your finger suddenly tilted his chin up, his eyes forcefully meeting yours.
the way you towered over him, your plump lips he could barely keep his gaze off, and the way your eyes never left his— he was seriously down bad for you, and you haven’t even done anything to him.
he didn’t say anything, what could he even say?! he just nodded, silently obeying your command.
„Pet‘s always listen to their master, so don’t even think about talking back to me, and they only address their owner as ‚master’. do you understand?“
lohen didn’t say anything, his mind a mess.
slap!
he suddenly felt a sharp pain at his cheek, his head tilted slightly to the side at the impact, his hand touching the now probably red mark.
„too slow. i repeat— do you understand?“
lohen immediately nodded, his brain only filled with full submission to your orders, and pleasure to your slap.
„i understand.“
„good boy.“
the next day started with him immediately at your side.
most people stared at you two with confused faces, but you didn’t care about that, walking confidently with him following you. you have to admit— he’s doing a pretty good job at being a pet.
carrying all of your stuff, doing the tasks you were too busy for, or even being the victim of your consistent teasing.
„are you going to be a good boy?“
„that wasn’t so hard now— was it?“
„you poor thing, turns out you are useful.“
those words seriously messed with his brain. normally if anyone would say that to him, he’d never let them— but just why did he enjoy you talking to him like this?
he shook his head. he couldn’t keep thinking about that— he has been already uncomfortably hard the whole afternoon, he couldn’t possibly handle this any longer.
„lohen?“
his eyes shot open, looking up at you. you two were on the way back from dorman port to the headquarters of the knights of favonius, in an almost endless field of green grass and flowers.
„y-yes, master?“
you stopped infront of him, your hand reaching out to slowly slide over his head, petting his soft hair.
„you’ve been doing a good job today.“
you maybe expected a smile, or even a ‚thank you‘, but you didn’t expect him to..
moan. a low, deep moan escaped his lips the moment your fingers made contact with his head.
your eyes only widened even more when your eyes trailed down— finally noticing the obvious bulge in his pants.
„you serious? getting this excited even though i did not even touch you till now?“
his eyes squeezed shut, cheeks heating up.
„im sorry, i can’t control myself when you.. talk to me like that.“
your hand roughly pulled at his hair, making him moan while his head is tilted up to you.
„you like getting degraded and praised? such a dirty boy..“
quiet whimpers left his lips, trying to get closer to you, but you kept your grip tight on his head.
„if you want to be touched so badly, you’ll need to wait till we’re at my office.“
he so badly wanted to talk back, say anything— but he didn’t want to ruin his only chance of satisfaction.
so he just nodded, then walked after you.
the door locked behind you the moment you two entered your office.
lohen’s back met the wooden material of your door, your hand tightly grabbing his collar.
„this was supposed to be an punishment, but i think you’re rather enjoying this..“
not letting him answer, you pressed your lips against his.
your tongue finds an opening past his lips, claming his mouth with dominance. You tilt your head, as you push your tongue deeper into his mouth, filling his brain with only the feeling of your tongue and your lips.
he moaned into the kiss, desperately trying to keep up with your pace.
you pulled away from his lips— breathless, cheeks flushed a rosey pink tint.
„you’re such a freak.. getting this excited over your ‚punishment.“
you sat down at the couch in your office, lohen standing infront of you. you easily pushed him down on his knees.
„go on, be a good pet, show me how badly you need my touch.“
his face filled with confusion, desperately trying to think of an answer to get you to touch him.
he only whines, hands digging into the flesh of your thighs, before his hips grinded his erection against the leather of your boots.
this was so dirty, he thought. him on his knees, pathetically trying to relieve himself on your boots.
„p- please..“ he quietly whimpered, his eyes shut while tears started forming in them. he needed this so badly, he was so hard for you.. why can’t you show him a little mercy?
he kept grinding against your boots, sweat clinging onto his skin under the layers of his uniform.
his movements started becoming sloppier and faster, his breathing’s volume increasing.
„i- im so close.. please..“
you decided to help him a little, grinding your foot against his clothed cock.
„f- fuck!—“ he moaned— cumming all in his underwear, while breathlessly speaking your name like a prayer.
„You did so well. I think you deserve a reward.“
his eyes practically sparkled, you slowly unbuckling the belt of your pants.
„sit down here.“
he clumsily took a seat next to you, but before he could even truly realize it, his hands were already tied up over his head.
„you look so pretty— tied up and desperate to touch me.“
he whined, strands of hair messily hanging in his face.
your hands moved to his belt, unbuckling it just slow enough to tease him.
after you finally removed his belt, your hands finally got to the part of removing his other layers of clothing— till his length finally sprung free, drops of precum already leaking out.
„so hard, even tho you just came?“
your hand slowly pumped his length, an agonizing pace for lohen.
smearing his precum all over his length, he was already close to cumming from your touch again.
his hips jerk, twitching. You squeeze his tip so hard, the tight grip you have on his making his throat escape more of those pretty little noises.
he pants and whimpers, so desperate for his orgasm— that you wouldn’t let him have.
your hand started slowing down again, before completely stopping.
his tear filled eyes shot up to meet yours, practically sobbing.
„w- why did you stop..?“
you didn’t answer, instead, you slowly pulled off your pants, being left in a pair of silky panties that were already soaked, sticking to your core.
you hovered your hips above his length.
„I’ll try to be gentle, you can handle it.“
your hips slowly sunk down on his cock, your warm gushy walls welcoming his tip.
his hands desperately yearned to touch you, if only they weren’t tied up together. he would probably have red bruises all over his wrists tomorrow, but that would only be a sign of your love.
length finally completely filling out your hole, the skin of you both was covered in a thin layer of sweat. you slowly start drawing circles on his cock, before quickening the pace of bouncing on him.
it's so sloppy, so wet and lewd, and lohen is losing his mind. he keeps panting and moaning, cock throbbing inside your warm walls. it’s like he can't get enough of the way you clamp and suck him in.
„d- don’t stop..“ he begged, brain only filled with the thought of you.
your toes curled and back arched when you increased your pace, orgasm building up with such an intensity that it is making you feel dizzy.
his eyes roll back into his scull, strands of his bangs sticking to his sweaty skin.
„'m so close—! you feel t- too good..“ his voice was absolutely fucked, words slurred in pleasure.
your cunt was clenching around him, the wet and sloppy sounds filling the otherwise silent office.
you can’t lie, you’re also pretty damn close to cumming— having not been able to have sex in a while.
„m- master! i can’t handle this much longer— please.. please let m-me cum!“
unfortunately you didn’t focus much on his babbling anymore, seeking your own orgasm.
you’re riding him straight into stupidity, pulling his orgasm to the surface so fast that he can't even mentally grasp it through the pleasure.
your hand moved to his throat, hand pulling tightly around the collar, and that was the last thing it took for him to cum.
filling your pussy with his warm seed, it didn’t take much for you to cum shortly after him, riding out your orgasm on his length.
after a moment of catching your breath, you looked up at lohen, his face filled with full bliss.
you sighed, swiftly undoing the knot around his wrists.
„it didn’t seem like this was much of an ‚punishment‘ for you..“
„you can’t call it that if i have you near me.“ he spoke, voice rough.
„you moron..“
you clicked your tongue, before making it your role to clean the two of you up.
lohen still laid on your couch, exhausted from the pleasure he felt just minutes ago.
„You do realize, it’s only monday. I still have the whole rest of the week to do what i please with you.“
he immediately heard the sadistic note in your voice, eyes widening.
just what have you got planned for the next days?
A/N: wow it’s my second posted fanfic! (˶>⩊<˶) thank u for reading, i’d highly appreciate any feedback, and also every like, reblog and comment is highly appreciated! If you’d even like me to write an request, my asks are open!
please do not repost, translate, or copy my works. please do not use ai on my works ༉‧₊˚.
a little nsft drabble fleshing out this post because i have been going fucking insane thinking about it .
or, in which you actually pin lohen in a sparring session, and he cums about it!
You're in rare form today.
Lohen has been keeping you on your toes for months now, surprise sparring sessions hardly out of the ordinary these days. He'd made sure you kept up on your training, every single day, on top of it; after all, to be a knight, you have to be able to back it up with skills, right?
(Nevermind the fact that he didn't train anyone else nearly as hard. You had half a mind to suspect he was training you to be his own personal plaything; someone who could keep up with him, keep him entertained.)
Despite the countless sparring sessions against the vice captain himself (it has to be in the hundreds now), you're ashamed to admit... you haven't won once. Not even when he's given himself a handicap. Not when he quite literally has one hand tied behind his back, not when he had a blindfold on that one time, certainly not when he offered to only use hand to hand while you kept your sword (you'd been cocky that day, too; and it'd been a new record for how quickly he'd shoved your face in the dirt.)
That being said... Again. You're in rare form today. Well rested, well fed, already warmed up, and you're lucky enough that Lohen is only allowing himself to use one arm, the other restrained in case his reflexes try to kick in a little too hard. It's a hand to hand session, which doesn't always work in your favor, but practice truly makes perfect, doesn't it?
At least, that's what you're thinking as you get the vice captain of the 5th company pinned down for the first time in your entire career.
You have no earthly fucking idea of how you managed it, but you've got him under you, his stomach pressed to the ground, his fighting arm now forced with the other behind his back. Your knee presses harshly into his back to keep him down as you hold him by the wrist, twisting his arm, further, further, until you can see (and feel) his entire body tense up at the pain.
You laugh in disbelief, adrenaline racing through your veins as you manage to keep him restrained even through his last few thrashes, kicks he tries to blindly throw your way from below. You distantly think about how much of a shame it is that no one else is at the training grounds so late; will anyone even believe you??
He turns his face to the side, looking up at you with a feral grin, eyes alight, and snarling as he tries one final time to throw you off.
You remember the nasty kick you'd thrown into his ribs just days ago, enough to knock the wind out of him (along with something primal between a whine and a laugh), and it's pure instinct guiding you now as your hand shoots to his side, fingers finding where you assume the bruise will be and pressing.
All of the fight leaves him in one heavy shudder wracking his body. Sliding your knees to either side of his body now that he's pinned in place, you lean your weight more heavily onto the arm you've got twisted behind his back, and it punches a surprised, strained little noise out of Lohen. When you glance up, you see that his eyes are squeezed shut, teeth digging into his bottom lip harshly, pain visible on his face. His breathing is heavy underneath you.
"You gonna tap??" you pant, feeling the burn in your muscles; you already know that if you relent now, he'll find a way to flip this on you.
He makes a rough, frustrated noise, experimentally tugging against your hold, body still tense. He's expecting you to twist his arm further, give him a reason to tap with a little more dignity.
Instead, you press down on the bruise on his side again, and you rub.
The effect is instantaneous. You feel Lohen jolt beneath you, shaking a bit... and a filthy, unmistakable moan pours out of him.
You pause for a moment, feeling your face heat up. You let your gaze flit to his face again, and the sight goes straight between your legs; there's a flush high on his cheeks, and his bottom lip is bleeding a little from how hard he's been biting it. His eyes are half-lidded, but instead of his usual smug grin, he looks... a little embarrassed, wow. But... you don't pull your hand away from the bruise, nor do you consider releasing his arm. After all, you can't just... let him win, can you?
"Well?" you prod, trying to give him enough of a break to speak up.
Lohen's voice sounds uncharacteristically broken as he looks up at you from the corner of his eye, his voice cracking. "Not a chance— hah, fuck, fuck, wait-"
You start moving your thumb against his ribs again, clearly right on the mora about where the bruise was. Your lips part in awe as you see his eyes roll back in his skull, brows knitting together as the rest of him shivers viciously.
"I can do this all day, you know," you breathe out, entranced by this side of Lohen you've accidentally dragged out.
"Fucking...! Shit, just wait until I get my hands on- ah no fuck please wait wait-"
You briefly think about hearing him out, but considering he sounds awfully close to threatening you... you instead twist his arm, just an extra centimeter or two, to add onto the torment you're already putting him through.
Lohen's voice is shaky and desperate and frantic. "Wait wait wait please stop I'm gonna cum-"
Well. That gets your attention.
...You know it's a bad idea. You know he's going to make you pay for it a million times over. And yet... a sly smile tugs on your lips as you briefly let off the pressure on his side. "...Are you tapping?"
His brows stay furrowed and he shoots you a glare, made much less efficient by how deeply red his face has gone, how glossy his eyes look from holding back overwhelmed tears. "Fff- fuck you, I'm not tapping ah fuck fuck fuck no-"
Before he can even finish you press your thumb straight back onto the bruise, rubbing harsh, slow circles into it, and you watch through a haze of fascinated arousal as he comes apart under you. Under your hips, you can feel his own grinding desperately into the ground, and his whole body shudders violently at the mix of unbearable pain and pleasure. The noises that pour from his pretty, bitten lips are nothing you ever thought you'd hear from Lohen, voice cracking and shaking as he gasps and moans and curses through it. You even think he's drooling.
And then, the broken moans melt into quiet whimpers. As he starts to come down, panting heavily, you remove your hand from his ribs and slowly untwist his free arm, mindful to not move it too quickly. He lets out a pained little grunt, but otherwise allows you to do what you will. You assume it's simply because he's left boneless after such a sudden intense orgasm.
...You quickly realize your mistake as you feel his body twist where you've got him no longer pinned between your legs, his movements lightning fast before your world spins, and your back hits the ground.
Before you can even process what's going on, you're pinned underneath the vice captain with his forearm against your throat, and... and his clothed dick, cum soaking through the fabric of his pants, pressed straight against your core.
You squirm, trying to find a way out of this, your face quickly getting hot. "Wait, Lohen, hang on, I-"
Podcaster Naoya becomes a submissive porn star ⋆ 6000 w.
cw: non-con, naoya pegged, naoya anal, dumbification, mind break, female dom obvi, and I decided to add a foursome male gang bang cuz why not.
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3
The porn studio is a room in your complex, down in the basement where every filthy video had been shot and edited. As you enter, tech men are setting up the camera’s, busying themselves with key lighting and props. The only thing out of place are the wires that snake along the floor. But other than that one messy detail, it’s clear this studio is ruled with an iron fist.
The cameras glitter. Sleek, black lenses glint from the soft lamp light on the nightstand. Your tech men hoisted fixtures into the air, picked up bags of hundred-pound equipment like it was no big deal. All without a single word— just the knowledge to get the job done.
Naoya stepped in, the air shifted with a heat, the familiar smell of sex and rubber. He took a gander at the setup. And despite his split lip and the blood stains on his shirt, he still surveyed the room with an air of Zenin authority.
One of the tech men sped past him with a sack thrown over his shoulder— bigger, larger, and taller than Naoya could ever hope to achieve. He clicked his tongue as he scanned the room from corner to corner, itching to find a weakness to pick at.
He glanced at the wires on the floor.
“Rudimentary,” he shrugged. “Would do better if your boss cleaned those up.”
You squinted at him. “I’m the boss.”
“Oh.” He grinned. “No wonder this place looks like a circus act.”
He seemed to have forgotten who even picked him up out of the party in a lambo. Who’s letting him collab with you, and who’s willing to even share a percentage of the money you’ll make from this video, which you know damn well is going to be a hit.
You bit down on your lip, because you knew that no matter what happened tonight, Naoya wouldn’t be the one in control, and he’s going to realize this sooner or later. With a snap of your fingers, one of your lovely gently-giants hands Naoya a bag of clothes.
He took it gingerly, as if he were holding a bomb.
Peeked inside. A disbelieving chuckle bubbled in his chest. “The fuck is…” His voice trailed off.
Oh, he couldn’t wait to see you in this. A bunny outfit, with cute little bows, bunny ears, and a butt plug bunny tail to top it off. He fished out the bunny ears and held it up, picturing every dirty curve of your body that he’d get to ruin.
You clicked your tongue as he held it up to you. The corner of your lip curling up as you stepped closer to him, your heels clacking against the hard wood. “It’s for you,” you whisper.
Naoya’s smile drops. “Excuse me?”
You fiddle with your hands behind your back, feigning innocence. “You want your old house back, right? Your expensive furniture and the maids?”
He looks down at the bag in his hand, irritation flooding his cheeks. “This is… for me?” He blinks, unable to comprehend plain english.
“That’s right~” You say in a sing-song.
Your tech men are all but situated. A majority of them filed out of the doorway once everything had been checked and placed— three of them stayed behind for film purposes. They trained the cameras on the stand-off between you and Naoya.
The reality of Naoya’s situation began to dawn on him by the second as he saw that red blinking light by the lens. “H-he’s recording! We haven’t started! Why is he—?”
“Don’t mind them,” You snap with a placid grin. “They’re just testing.”
He doesn’t seem to believe you as his eyes dart back and forth from you to a different camera positioned around the room. Panic makes his rationality jumble. “You're a female,” He spat, confused as all hell. “You’re supposed to wear something like this. I never agreed to…” His mouth struggled to form the words. “I won’t…”
You leaned closer, and he could practically taste the mint gum on your tongue. You had this cruel delight in your gaze that sent shivers up his spine.
You pinch a tuft of his hair at the scalp, gently. “And your roots are coming in, Naoya. Without me, you’ll just become another black-haired nobody.” He recoils like you burnt him— slapping your hand away.
No. Not his roots.
“Don’t—”
“People know who you are, Naoya. Those haters you’ve relied on for a decade? If they see you on the street they’ll do worse than rob you. Or rough you up. They’ll do to you what they do to women they hate.”
His back hit the wall, sputtering over his own words. Every comeback or insult died in his throat.
You slam your heel between his thighs, near stabbing his dick. Naoya glares down at you, biting back every new wave of fear that crashes into him.
Leaning close, your breath coasts along his skin. “All it takes is a few photos wearing those clothes, and you can hire body guards. Get a nice apartment. Get your roots redone. You won’t have to worry about living on the street, or the filthy people who’d do anything to get their hands on a Zenin.”
Naoya’s breath catches. “That’s not… That isn’t f—”
“Fair?”
He flinched, and a giggle slipped through your sweet lips.
You pulled back, eyes trailing down his frame like you were picking your next snack. Only to stop short at his jeans, and the unmistakable bulge hugging his thigh.
You turn your back to him and saunter to the bathroom, opening the door for him like a princess. “Now… get dressed,” you commanded, not with aggression, but with a dangerously cordial tone that could flip on a dime.
Naoya clutched the bag in his fist, bunny ears and all.
A few pictures.
That’s all this is.
Even if this wasn’t the kind of porn studio he thought it’d be, he can still earn money from this.
His puke-green eyes darted to the floor and sped past you as you held the door open. “Close it,” he said through gritted teeth, not a demand, but with the rough edges of a begging man.
That’s what you like to hear.
You shut the door with a gentle click.
✦ · · · ⚜ · · · ✦
The door unlocked and cracked open just a smidge, a streak of light from the harsh bathroom overhead casted itself into the dark bedroom.
You lounged at the foot of the bed, one leg crossed over the other, bouncing your knee with a languid impatience. “C’mon Naoya,” You beckoned as he shuffled with the door, as if deciding whether or not to step out.
His tone laced itself in venom. “You’re insane— a fuckin’ pervert…”
You snapped to your feet, near prying the door open yourself. “Show me before I throw you out of the goddamn studio.”
He hissed something under his breath and swung the door open.
Naoya revealed himself, both hands covering his bulge, and he didn’t even have the guts to look at you. His gaze remained glued to the floor while he ground his teeth together. You squeezed your thighs together, a heartbeat already throbbing between your legs.
White socks hugged him around his muscle-clad thighs, the very fabric stretched to the brink. And as your eyes trailed up, a baby pink thong curved with his v-line, disappearing into the white shorty-shorts that bunched up around his cock.
His muscles tensed as you raked over his figure, but Naoya bit down on his tongue, knowing he had nothing to retort— no power, no money. His name reduced to rubble at his feet, and his social media presence made a laughing stock around the globe.
Maybe here, with this, he could start again— even if it’s small. And when all is said and done, he’d never speak to you again.
A few pictures, he told himself again. That’s it.
You clicked your tongue, twirling your finger in the air. “Take a turn for me.” Naoya’s face spiked with redness. His nose scrunched like the angry-bunny he embodied.
He turned around slowly, still cupping himself (as if you wouldn’t see it later.)
The crop top was white, with baby pink accents. Sleeveless and skin-tight, it hugged him across the chest, accentuating every curve of hardened muscle that made him a man. The top stretched across his fat pecs— his nipples so erect and prominent beneath the top you’d think he could hold milk.
Fluff decorated the turtleneck, making him appear more cute than he already is with his abashed expression. And on his head— bunny ears. As white as a jack rabbit with baby pink bows adorning the headband.
His thighs, his waistband, his collar… your insides squeezed around air, begging for something to latch onto. But your own pleasure would have to wait. This isn’t about you…
Atleast, not entirely.
Naoya looks over his shoulder, “Are you taking pictures yet?” He says with a shy rumble in his throat.
“Getting there, princess, just stay like that,” You’re already tapping away at your phone. Not to pull up the camera, but to check the livestream.
It’s perfect.
A camera panning at Naoya in this outfit from head-to-toe, zooming in at his ass. Switching lenses when a different angle was necessary— the kinds of things that made a crew all the more worth it.
Naoya can’t stop looking at the big cameras nestled in the corner of the room. “Are those on?” He grumbles, and you can’t see his face but his ears are bright red.
“Still just testing, Naoya, don’t worry. Now be a good boy for me and turn around.”
He bites down on his lip, clearly not believing you but turning around anyways, his blonde bangs covering his eyes. Both hands still splayed out in front of his crotch, covering the goodies.
You’re absolutely giddy.
The angle switches to your phone camera and you kneel to capture the deliciously embarrassed expression on his pretty little face. “Say you’re a good boy,” You coo.
Naoya’s head snaps up. “I-I am not saying that!”
Your gentle smile drops into a warning.
A chill goes up Naoya’s spine, and he’s reminded of everything else he has to lose. “I-I’m a good boy,” he says through gritted teeth.
“Louder.”
“I’m a good boy!” He shouts through trembling vocal chords.
“Put your hands on your head.”
He raises his arms as if he’s fighting some invisible entity. And when he presses his hands against the back of his head, showing off his crotch, you know damn well that this is going to make it in the final cut of the video.
Naoya’s thighs visibly press together while he places his hands against the back of his head. The head of his engorged cock is peeking out of the shorts, pressed tight against his thigh, dripping glop after glop of pre like a needy bitch.
He’s glaring at the floor like he could burn a hole straight through it. Like he could practically hear the future commenters watching him be stripped of everything that— he believed— ever made him a man.
You stand up from your crouched position, and scroll on your phone to review the footage.
But to Naoya, you’re glued to your fucking phone. As if him in a bunny costume isn’t the most pressing matter at hand. Why did that aggravate him so much? Why is it worse to be ignored by you?
This feeling… It's disgusting.
It’s sick.
He’s being put on display like some… like some female.
And worst of all— he’s hard.
No— no not because of this. Not because of the outfit. Not because he’s being humiliated by a female, whose power is taboo and forbidden. Not because three big, burly men are staring at him. And especially not because he’s into that.
You’re the one in the porn industry, where all females naturally belong, because they’re nothing more than baby makers. You’re the one living out a non-feminist life! You’re the one who caved from their own beliefs— not Naoya.
He opened his mouth to snap at you— to make these sentiments known— but your eyes darted to his. “Get on the bed,” You demanded, and everything that made him better than you dissipated from his head in an instant. Something in his chest compelled him to sulk over.
In two shy strides, he climbed onto the bed, finding his spot on the mattress like an embarrassed puppy.
Naoya didn’t realize what was happening until two large hands— from two large bodies on either side of the bed— held down his arms. He squirmed, but their weight pressed down on him hard enough he thought he’d melt into the sheets.
Something tightened around his wrist, tugging him closer. Rope.
“Wait—!” He panicked.
Then the other, and his wrists were knotted together in an instant. He yanked. Squirmed. Kicked. “Y-you said it was pictures!” He cried out.
You climbed onto the bed, the sheets dipping to your weight as you dragged your knee up against his ballsack. Massaging the sensitive muscle with your thigh. “I lied,” you whisper, hot breath ghosting over his skin.
It sends a sick thrill straight into his cock. He twitched against his own thigh; pulsating desperately, begging to be freed from his bunny-shorts.
“But I d-didn’t…”
“Ah ah ah,” You click your tongue. “You came into my studio thinking that you were going to put a baby in me? That you were going to make me choke and scream and cry… is that right?”
Panic and bold-faced lies reared its ugly head. “N-no that’s not what I—” The bed creaked from his struggle as he tried, and failed, to escape the ropes. You pressed your thigh against his crotch harder. Naoya arched, an embarrassingly cute moan slipped past his lips.
Naoya couldn’t think. Couldn’t even bring himself to tell you to stop.
“Oh my fuuuuck,” He groaned, a wave of pleasure crashed into him. The moment another moan threatened to slip, he bit down on his lip, and forced the sound to die in his chest.
He’s never heard himself make such vulnerable sounds before. It tasted weird on his tongue. It sounded disgusting when he released it in the air.
You squeeze your thigh against that lump between his legs like playdough— massaging him in circles that made his eyes flutter back. “So sensitive,” you purr. “Like your body was made to be touched like this.”
You place gentle kisses up his neck, and along his skin, until you reach his lips and experimentally go for a kiss. You slip in tongue, letting him choose whether or not he wants to give in. The wet, warm muscle connects with his and your lips connect. You slip in, tasting the tinge of blood from the thrashing earlier that night. You lap it up anyways.
Naoya’s head is reeling. He’s rutting his sack up against your thigh, arching and groaning helplessly at every caress. And your tongue makes his head spin.
He can’t control it— any of it. Not you. Not himself. Not the way his tongue finds yours and slips against you so sloppily your trading glops of saliva. But he doesn’t care. You taste like cinnamon and old spice, a luxurious aroma he hasn’t experienced in months.
You pull away, satisfied with his complacency. “You’re still getting a cut from this, Naoya. Millions.” You remind him. “Just be a good little boy for me— just for tonight.”
His chin tips back, now lost without your mouth to guide him. Naoya’s head sways from one side to the other in the kind of horny daze he’s never felt before.
His gaze goes dark as he catches the glint of the camera. It zooms in carefully. The man behind the lens lingering in areas no straight man should. A cold shiver ran down Naoya’s spine, all the way to his groin, where his ballsack tightened in response to this weird, sick thrill that came from the eyes.
And then the realization came to him like a slow blink.
Recorded. He’s definitely being recorded.
He tries to prop himself up to sit, but he can’t get a hold. “Hey… hey wait—” Before he can demand that you stop recording, your lips slide to his collarbone. Soft lips peck him down his slutty bunny costume, sweat and saliva glistening across his abs as you sink further down his body.
Naoya grunted— jaw clenched as his cock twitched beneath the barrier of his shorty-shorts. In one rough move, you yank the cloth down, slipping it past his ankles and discarding it on the floor. His cock stood up on its own, proud in all its engorged, hungry glory.
You kissed it. Once. Twice. Licking one filthy stripe from base to tip. It smelled of salt and sweat. The wet muscle of your tongue dipped into his foreskin, swirling the spit along the rim of his swollen head. Naoya’s breath came in short, frantic gasps. He actually cried out this time—a loud whimper muffled only by biting down on his lip too late.
He fought the rope. A hopeless attempt to cover his face in embarrassment, but it didn’t work. Slick sounds filled the room that made his heart rate spike: squelching licks and soft suction from where you were now taking him deeper into your warm mouth—
“Mmmfffuck… s’too good,” He slurred, chin tipping back as if his soul were being pulled from his body. “Too good… m’gonna cum.”
You giggled and the sweet sound vibrated through his cock, making it bounce against your lips. Naoya kicked his legs against the sheets, not trying to escape, but so he could buck his hips up easier. “D-don’t tease me.”
Like you’d listen to a single thing he said. Your head dipped lower, down to his winking ass hole. The brown bud open and closed, the skin squishing in on itself, clenching around air. “So dry,” You notice, slicking two fingers into your mouth, coating the digits in saliva. “We’ll fix that~”
“W-wait… what’re you— ah! Not there! Not—”
He arched off of the bed. Not a gasp, not a whimper this time. A full-body, spine snapping jolt as your slicked fingers breached his insides. The fingers curled slightly as you cupped and stroked his gummy walls, deep inside. This was forbidden— it felt forbidden. Illegal. To be touched that made him shiver and melt and whimper like a woman.
This is torture. This is heaven.
You scissored the hole open, seeing how far you could stretch him until it burned. He squirmed, and bucked and moaned like a needy man-whore. “Please— ah mmm holy fuck.”
With your middle and ring finger, you're pushed deeper, ignoring his cries. His gummy walls pulsed against the digits as they stroked and cupped the sensitive flesh. His rim sucked you in, closing around the very things that invaded him.
Tears pricked his eyes. One gentle streak fell, leaving a trail on his cheeks that burned from embarrassment.
“You love it in the ass, huh?” You noticed with a sadistic grin, not giving him a single second to reel his thoughts in. “C’mon Naoya~ let everyone know how good it feels.” Your fingers curled, stroking a spot that made his toes curl and vision blur.
“Mmmmph—! Hah aahh.”
You rested your cheek on his inner thigh, fingers still twisting and curling into his virgin ass. “Can’t wait to touch your prostate. I bet you’re a screamer,” You drawled, your free hand slapping his cock.
He yipped. Bucked up toward the sting.
You raised a brow. “Oh? You liked that?” And without warning, your hand smacked him again, and he screams. A full-body quiver surges through him. His thick, burly cock twitching with suppressed release. “S-stop—!” He cries, only to get shut up by another ear-ringing smack.
He jolts. A bit of cum spurt from the slit in thin, white ropes. His sack visibly tightened, clearly trying to hold back the urge to cum from something so unbefitting of a Zenin. “I-I oh my god…” His lip trembled. Eyes wide with fear.
A camera man hovering just over your shoulder, the black lens reflecting back at him the mess he just made of himself. The bunny ears, the ropes, the outfit, the sperm trail across his chest… holy fuck. This is messed up. This is insane. Why is he just taking it? And why does it turn him on?
“Such a messy boy,” You whisper in an innocent, sultry tone. “Let me clean this up.” Your hot breath fanned his cock, and in one swift head-bob, you gulped down the head. The tip hitting the back of your throat.
Naoya was melting beneath your finger tips. His front was slicked with sweat droplets and his tongue was sticking out like a thirsty animal. You slurped him like his cock was candy— warm and wet. The double stimulation drove him mad.
His wrists yanked against the rope, thrashing, still trying to rip himself free. His violent squirming made the headboard thud against the wall. The entire bed rocked. There was no escape. No pause. Just pleasure crashing into him from both ends at once.
His hips kept jerking onto your fingers on instinct. “Yeah that’s it,” You groan. “Move those hips.”
Your fingers, still working deep inside— curled just right, stroking a tender bundle of nerves with every slow twist— and that mouth: hot, wet suction around the swollen head of his cock. That tongue tracing the bulbous veins. Every bob sent shocks through his spine.
His nails dug into his palms. “S-stop! Stop, I’m gonna—” Naoya’s body locks. He can’t hold it back anymore. A guttural cry ripped from his throat. A sound no Zenin heir would be caught making in public.
White-hot pleasure exploded through every nerve as thick ropes of cum surged up and into your waiting mouth without pause— pulse after pulse after pulse— more than he’d ever released before in his life.
Your eyes fluttered back as you swallowed every drop. Without flinching from his size or even pulling away. Not even when another wave hits him and you have to swallow fast to keep up.
It dribbles out of the corners of your mouth. (And at this point, you’re surprised it’s not coming out of your nose.) And still… your fingers never stop moving inside of him, continuously milking that sensitive spot deep within, dragging out every last shuddering release until Naoya is a dumbified piece of meat.
You drag up— his cock popping free of your lips. Still half-hard. Still not satisfied with the treatment.
He isn’t thinking. Just blinking the tears away. The saltiness seeping into his lips, and he licks it away. Wondering how someone of his caliber got into this situation.
This can’t be happening to him. No, this is a sick joke. This is some sort of psychotic revenge-joke. Naoya gulps. He doesn’t know what you plan on doing to him next, but his body is already quivering.
The room is hot, suffocating. And you sit up, stripping your dress off. Yanking it over your head and discarding it on the floor with a thump. Naoya’s eyes trace the curve of you sitting before him. The dim lamplight bouncing off of your skin and coating you in honey-tones.
The dress falls around your ankles, and his breath goes ragged. A lacey black thong and a floral bra to match… he doesn’t say a word. But it’s clear from the look in his eyes that he was exactly where he wanted to be.
You fiddle with your ass, jiggling the underside just to watch him squirm. “Like what you see, Naoya~?”
He nods ever so slightly.
You pull back the elastic of your thong and let it snap against your hips. Naoya watches with lidded eyes. Breathing hard and fast. His eyebrows scrunched cutely while his cock jumps at the sight of your skin.
“You want this pussy?” You ask over your shoulder, bending over to show him the way the cloth dips between your soaked labia. Slick stuck between your thighs, making strings. “Gonna pound me full of semen, Naoya? Until my clit is swollen?”
He chews on his lip… imagining the scenario as if it was playing out before his eyes. But he knew you’d never let him do that. Not on purpose at least.
It made his blood boil, sure, but he was on a high. His head buried too far in the clouds to realize how pissed this actually made him to be teased like this. To be made a mockery of.
He nods again, just as slight as before. It’s a bitter admission, but he needed your hands on him again. Fuck the camera’s. Fuck the ninety thousand people jacking off to him. This isn’t about the money anymore. Touch me, his gaze begged.
Touch me. Touch me. Touch me. Touch me.
With a knowing grin, you hook your thumbs and slip the thong low enough that it folds over itself— giving him a perfect view of your sopping pussy. The thong hits the floor.
“Not fair,” Naoya groans, his lip trembling as if he were genuinely about to sob. “Y-you’re being so unfair.”
“So whiney,” you sneer, and then snap your fingers. A member of the crew already prepped, and plops a strap-on into your open palm. The thick, pink, veiny silicon weighs heavy in your hand as you examine it. “Hmm. Think it’ll fit?” You smirk, glancing at Naoya.
He’s already shaking his head. “No… no I-I can’t…”
You’re already wrapping the strap-on around your thighs and clipping the plastic pieces together. Tightening the polyester so the flat plastic base rubbed up against your clit in a way that sent spikes of heat through your whole body.
“It’s this or them,” You sneer.
Naoya has no clue who you’re talking about until his gaze snaps to the camera crew. The three men stood off to the side, stroking their very thick, and very real cocks, that would no doubt be worse than the silicon you had strapped to you.
Hungry eyes picking Naoya apart in his submissive little bunny costume. They pumped and twisted their fists as if they were prepping themselves for a turn.
Maybe they were.
Naoya’s back hits the headboard, still fumbling with the rope around his wrists. “T-they’d rip me open! I-I can’t—!”
“Strap-on it is then ♡ ” you say as you yank him by the ankle and flip him on his stomach. His tied wrists pinned beneath him without room for struggle. You kick apart his thighs with your knees, lining up the silicon to his puckered brown bud.
“Wait–! ”
You slammed your hand down on the back of his neck and let the pink, veiny silicon stretch his virgin ass. Naoya lets out a blood-curdling moan. Back muscles rippled beneath his bunny costume. Shoulders shaking.
You don’t wait for permission. You snap your hips forward and he arches back on instinct. Tears are already dripping from his chin from the tortuous penetration. Even through the silicon, you can feel his insides sucking it in, and gripping it like no tomorrow.
Naoya’s is whimpering. The side of his face is smooshed by the mattress while he drools onto the sheets, and something like … a smile? is pulling at the corner of his lips.
You put weight on his neck and curl your hips, pushing further in until you’ve buried the hilt to his ass. Naoya bites the sheets. “Mmmphh! Holyffuuuuck… lemme g– ah!”
You snap forward, picking up a rhythm as his taut, muscular ass pushes back against you. The bed creaks as you rail him with wet clap after wet clap. “It feels s’good,” he slurs, “R-right there~ hit me ri’there…”
It made Naoya push back harder, chasing the spike of heat he got every time you hit that sensitive bundle of nerves at his prostate.
“Yeah that’s it. Fuck yourself back on it,” you mumble as one hand smacked his ass hard enough to make him moan. A red print blooming at the spot you just hit.
Naoya’s moaning and whimpering and screaming into the mattress. His hips stutter against the strap-on every time you grind yourself against that bean beneath his bladder. His brain is completely melted. Everything that made him a man had dissipated from his identity.
He loves the bunny ears. Loves the way you embarrass him in front of other, more masculine men. And he loves being watched and smacked and tortured and looked at like a slab of fuck-meat that deserves to be stuffed with cock.
Naoya’s tongue lolled out and a delirious smile split across his expression. Every thrust from you was punctuated by a yippy little moan that ripped from his throat, like he was a dog begging for his treat.
Hitting his prostate over and over and over again felt made his vision go hazy. His blood ran hot. It was a never-ending orgasm. A pressure building up in his sack so tight he thought it was piss.
It pressurized in his cock, until you were jamming the dildo so far into his ass he could feel the bulge stretching his tummy. “Ri’ there! Fuuuckk yes yes yes!” He let his voice pitch in ways he never did before. Let the tears build up until they rolled down his reddened face in rivulets.
His cock throbbed, his tip pulsating as it shot a load so thick and hot it burned. White ropes making a mess on the bedsheets. Naoya whimpered like an abused puppy, twerking back on the dildo as he emptied the last of his release.
Your hips pulled out with a satisfied pop. The pink silicon covered in streaks of his translucent liquid.
Naoya’s head spun, laughing gently at his own fucked-up situation, and how much he seemed to be genuinely enjoying it. And how every problem he’s ever had melted away in this room.
You had him right where you wanted him.
The rest of the night you played with his body while he screamed and moaned, accepting whatever punishment or reward you decided to bestow upon him at that moment. He catered himself to your every flight of fancy.
When he screamed too loud to the point of being fuckin-annoying, you shut him up by sitting on his face. He suffocated between your thighs as you rutted your clit up and down his tongue. And with his wrists still tied up, it wasn’t like he could shove you off.
So he had to lay there and take it. Lap up every bit of cum that slipped from your pussy lips. Your sweet scent intoxicates him to the point of insanity. That tongue darting in and out. Switching between his lips closing around your clit and suckling you or kitten-licks that left your thighs quivering.
After you’d came— twice, maybe three times, it was a blur— you flopped down on the mattress next to him and he caught his breath. Half of his face slicked with your cum as he stared at the ceiling.
You propped your head up on one elbow, genuinely considering giving him a break. Then your eyes trailed lower to the hard-on he sported.
Holy… fuck.
He already came twice in one hour, and he’s ready to go again? A sadistic smile spread across your face, and you beckoned your camera crew over to the bed.
Finally ready to get their fill of the meal they’d been eyeing, the three men crowded around Naoya. One of them stripped off their shirt. Another unbuckled the belt. The other was lining his cock at Naoya’s ass hole.
You sauntered to the bathroom with shaky legs, letting your wonderful camera crew have their fun as you cleaned up, caught your breath a little, and maybe ordered some food. Because with three big guys like them you knew they’d need the extra time to have their fill of Naoya.
✦ · · · ⚜ · · · ✦
Naoya’s clothes were ripped apart within minutes. His thigh-high socks in tatters around his legs. His crop-top split open at the chest. His bunny ears tossed aside.
He sobbed into the sheets, genuinely overstimulated, and unable to stop the addiction anyways. One of them rutted into him from behind. The other two hover their dicks over Naoya’s lips while he’s forced to stuff two cocks into his cheeks like a goddamn chipmunk. He couldn’t fit more than their tips, especially with the pounding he was getting from behind.
He was flipped and twisted into a pretzel. Thrown around like a ragdoll. His knees hiked over his shoulders into a mating press as each burly man released load after load after load into his virgin ass.
The stretch burned at first but as they railed him relentlessly, the sting became a part of the thrill. And the men smelled of tobacco and old leather. They weren’t shaved and unmarred, like Naoya was. Their forearms bore scars and hair.
Hair all across their chest, and arms, and legs. A happy trail leading all the way down to the bush at the base of their cocks.
Naoya’s ass slapped wetly as he bounced on one dick. It slid in and out in a steady rhythm that he finally controlled. The man laid under him with their hands behind their head, watching Naoya’s cock flop up and down with every rut.
A different man stood on the bed, feet straddling his friends shoulders, and slapped the thick head against Naoya’s lips. His throat was hoarse. Aching. Abused. But the man yanked Naoya by the hair anyway and pried his jaw open until a visible lump formed down Naoya’s throat.
The third one… Oh god, where was the third?
Naoya gurgled against the cock, choking gently as he failed to swallow all of it. That’s when he felt something wet and heavy slap his ass from behind. They lifted his hips with a grip strength Naoya could never hope to achieve, and in one swift movement, a different cock was inside him.
They kept trading like that until both men grew impatient and tried shoving two in at once.
Naoya shook his head, tears streaming down in violent streaks. One of the men pinned him to the bed so he wouldn’t squirm, while the other two were licking their lips as they lathered lube all over Naoya’s body.
Covering him in a slick that coated him in a sheen that made him look more edible than before. At some point, Naoya stopped fighting. Two men picked him up, one arm spreading apart one of his thighs, and a different arm spreading the other leg.
Naoya was limp. Gone. A brainless piece of meat that couldn’t think about anything other than the next spike of pleasure. His arms are lazily wrapped around the shoulders of both men on either side of him, trusting that they don’t just drop him as he’s hoisted in the air like this.
They line themselves up, flicking the tip against the rim experimentally, and Naoya shivers. Knowing the stretch is going to burn like hell.
But they didn’t give a damn about a misogynist who would’ve done the same to a woman, given the chance. He felt both engorged cocks split him open at his gaping ass, and he bit down on his lip.
It was a sensation that made him feel so near ecstasy he had to be dead.
They thrusted up at a synchronized pace— rubbing against each other with a friction that only added to the heat.
Naoya was in heaven. This had to be heaven.
He didn’t even notice his own climax until it shot across the floor. And the two men followed suit, slamming Naoya’s hips down on two cocks that squished his prostate so hard another wave washed over him and he was gone.
Forced on his knees. Slapped until his skin was beaten red. Bound by ropes at his wrists and ankles. Then a blindfold. Sometimes they’d free him from the ropes, other times they added more. He was hoisted in the air or fucked on the floor like a primate.
Semen streaks decorated the floor. And it leaked from Naoya’s ass in glops that he couldn’t stop pushing out instinctively. It dripped out between his quivering thighs and spilled wherever he sat. When he was moved around, he groaned while it swished around in his tummy.
Eventually… The three men had their fill. And each cock was flaccid. They didn’t give him so much as a goodbye as they zipped up their pants, turned off the recording equipment, and shut the lights off. Leaving him in a damp, dark room.
Naoya watched as they filed out through the doorway. He wanted to reach out one hand, beg them not to go, but his limbs are numb.
From your spot in the editing studio, two desktop screens were split across four different cameras. And when your men file out, you glance down at the time-stamp of the footage. Three hours of raw footage— something the entire world would rave about. Everyone would know Naoya Zenin as your sex slave.
You smiled, and clicked upload.
a/n: This might be buns but at least I didn’t use AI. Guys not even kidding I saw a Naoya x Nanami fic on AO3 and that shit was so blatantly written by AI. It was genuinely so upsetting but it reminded me of my duties as a writer. Stay strong guys and FUCK “creative” AI.
You’ve worn your boyfriend Sukuna to the bone, so your other boyfriend Toji takes over.
warnings. fem!reader/tojikuna, threesome, multiple orgasms, piv, kissing, creampie, overstim, ovulation, switch!toji if you squint, dom!sukuna. nsfw 18+ mdni.
──── ୨୧ ────
The first thing Toji noticed when he stepped through the front door was the heat. A subtle humidity lacing the air like the sweet lingering remnants of perfume. There was your lotion, sweet and familiar, and the smell of fresh sweat, layered with something primal and musky - the smell of sex.
The second thing he noticed was Sukuna, splayed over the couch like he’d just run a marathon. Tank top soaked through and sweatpants riddled with little damp patches, dotted across the fabric like stray petals. Toji’s gaze dipped without bothering to hide the way he was blatantly staring at Sukuna’s chest, at the heaving pecs peeking out from his neckline, eyes tracking the little bead of sweat beginning to trail a hot path down the center.
“What’s your problem?” Came Toji’s eventual greeting as he paused by the door, tearing his eyes away just to sling his gym bag over the hook there before continuing into the room, water bottle clasped in his hand.
Sukuna glared in reply, and if Toji were anyone else he might have actually felt intimidated by the sight. But with the way the other man was panting, pink tufts of hair stuck every which way and slicked with sweat, he didn’t paint a particularly scary image. In fact the only sensation the sight triggered within Toji was a mild amusement, alongside a tiny spark of heat low and betraying in his belly.
“I’ve already had her four times,” Sukuna grunted, “the brats insatiable.”
Toji snorted mid sip of water, eyes leaving the couch to instead peer through the half opened doorway to the bedroom, where he managed to catch only a glimpse of your bare leg through the crack. From the looks of it you were naked - splayed over the sheets, hair probably still a little damp from the shower, skin lacquered with lotion, half washed away with sweat by now.
“What, she ovulating or something?” Toji wondered aloud, lowering the bottle to once again catch Sukuna’s gaze over the metal rim.
The other man crossed his arms unceremoniously across his chest, and Toji watched the tendons jump in the winding muscle of his forearms as he shrugged.
“That or she’s in heat, damn near milked me dry.” He grumbled, brows knitted, working a mean line between them. If you were here you’d reprimand him for such an expression, crawl over the couch and run your thumb between his salmon brows until the lines wore smooth, or until Sukuna grew bored and wrapped a hand around your wrist to flip you onto the cushions instead.
Toji laughed then, the sound rough and graveled like tattered velvet.
“Seriously?” He scoffed, lips spread into a sly grin as he licked stray droplets from them, “had to tap out did ya’ Ryomen?”
Sukuna’s scowl only deepened, soured now with genuine irritation.
“Just be grateful I wore her out for you,” he spat, “and watch your tone, or it’ll be you spread eagle and whining for more cock next, Fushiguro.”
Toji chuckled again as he screwed the lid of his bottle on tight, the motion accented with a metallic ‘squeak!’ before he tossed it toward Sukuna, hard enough that he heard the fleshy impact when the other man’s hand shot out to catch it.
“Yeah yeah,” he mused, moving past the couch to instead push through the bedroom door, which creaked beneath the effort, “drink some fuckin’ water and get outta my way.”
If he were being honest, when he’d left for the gym that morning he’d been hoping for this exact scenario. Toji knew you - or at least your cycle - well enough to know that you’d wake up needy and leaking, and he knew Sukuna well enough to know he wouldn’t be able to resist the sight of you humping his thigh like a dog in heat for very long. So he’d left without a word just as the sun kissed the horizon, and he’d been half hard in his sweats since his second rep just thinking about it.
If the living room was warm, the air within the bedroom was stifling. But it wasn’t the heat or the sticky sweet scent that knocked the air from Toji’s lungs on entry, no. It was the sight of you - limbs splayed over the mattress, hair messed and wild where your head was tucked between the pillows. Your jaw lifted back far enough to expose the long column of your throat, giving Toji a stellar view of the dark sucking marks peppered there, indents of teeth that he was sure would melt into bruises by the evening.
Toji took in the sight indulgently - paused in the doorway, a lone hand already trailing its way down the curve of his stomach, teasing until his fingers curled over the bulge forming there. He squeezed once and shivered, reveling in the immediate relief that sizzled over his body like a splash of ice water.
He could feel the weight of Sukuna’s gaze piercing into the back of his skull like the promise of a snipers sight. He didn’t indulge the urge to peer over his shoulder and meet that heated gaze, instead he let his hand drop to his side and pressed a knee into the mattress.
You didn’t move, didn’t speak or even open your eyes when he crawled over the sheets, crowding your space like a panther sliding atop its snagged prey.
His hand met the curve of your waist, skin soft and warm beneath his palm, layer of sweat sticking you lightly to him. He trailed one hand downward over the curve of your belly, the other grazed feather-soft over the slopes of your breasts, pausing to pinch gently at either nipple, perked and willing in his hands.
“You’re soaked sweetheart,” he mused when his fingers finally dipped between your thighs, which gave way to him easily, spreading to make room for his forearm to slot between. He moved slowly, palming soft and teasing over your mound and listening to you mumble mindlessly below him.
You whined something unintelligible in reply, voice nothing but a high pitched whimper, crackled like shattered glass.
With a chuckle, he leaned down and craned his head until his ear rested level with your mouth.
“What’s that sweetheart?” He questioned, head tilted to listen.
You swallowed, hard and dry, and licked your lips before you spoke again. Another croaked string of words hit his ear, a touch clearer this time. He realized then that you weren’t mumbling gibberish at all, you were begging.
“More, more, need more, please ‘kuna, please jus’ one more…”
Toji chuckled and lifted his head back to study you again - he found your eyes still closed, brows now knitted into an expression that was decidedly desperate.
“Old Ryo’ couldn’t keep up, huh?” He mused, hands lifted from your body to instead press into the mattress either side of your head, leveraging the weight of him as he slotted himself properly between your thighs.
You offered a gentle huff in reply, eyelids feeling much too heavy to bother opening. Your limbs felt numb, tingling with residual little sizzles of pleasure.
“Don’t worry doll, ‘m here now.”
Toji didn’t waste time working you open or teasing you with the brush of his lips or gentle caresses, no. He simply slipped his shirt over his head and tossed it sideways. His thumb hooked over his waistband, tugged down to let his length spring free and slap hard and raw against you.
The sensation was enough to have his lips parting around a shuddered breath. You felt like heaven - like slick molten silk kissing each bumped ridge as he rutted through your swollen folds. You jolted when he shifted, hard inches rubbing over your clit, still singing with over stimulation.
He grinned and lowered a thumb to pet at your entrance, leaking slick and dribbles of what he was sure was Sukuna’s spend. He traced your rim beneath the head of his cock slowly, smearing the milky little pearls gathered there and wondering just how many loads Sukuna had managed to stuff inside you before he’d finally tapped out. The thought made his breath catch, and sent another sizzle of heat straight to his throbbing cock.
“C’mon, look at me now,” Toji cooed, watching the way any semblance of coherency on your face melted away when he finally pressed down, sinking inside with a single dizzying press of his hips - testament to just how soaked and used you really were.
It was enough to make your eyes roll behind your lids, fluttering with the delicious sting of being stretched open again. Toji treated you with shallow little thrusts. The hair at his base tickling your clit, thick veins pulsing against your rubbed raw walls where Sukuna had pounded you until you cried, until you bruised. And yet despite the pain, the ache - that needling little bud of desire still burned just as hotly as when you’d first awoken that day, stoking the fire in your belly and dribbling lava hot between your aching thighs.
“Oh, oh…” you moaned dumbly, lashes twitching as you finally lifted them and tried to blink away the layer of hazy film that had settled there. Your mind felt fuzzy, vacant. Drunk on the sensation of being stuffed utterly full once again.
“There she is,” Toji soothed.
“‘Ji, it’s you…” came your delayed greeting, nothing more than a breathy whine, “need’t cum, need to cum again, please…”
“Again?” Toji echoed in faux surprise, hips lowing to a torturous roll, “that’s a little greedy of you, don’t you think?”
“Incredibly greedy,” a distant voice interrupted, flat and deep and utterly serious.
Toji tilted his head back just enough to catch sight of Sukuna’s broad form filling the doorway, looking more like the hired security than someone who actually lived there. Toji peered through strands of ink black hair at the big hand that was beginning to dip beneath the waistband of Sukuna’s sweats, palming lazily at the considerable bulge there. Sukuna’s gaze was equally heavy and heated, lowered past the curve of Toji’s spine to track the way your hole was stretching around his thickness.
Toji swallowed, took a final glance at the sight of Sukuna beginning to work his length free from his boxers. His eyes stuck on the exposed slip of tan skin where Sukuna had tugged his shirt upward, the spatter of hair dusted there, before he turned his attention back to you.
“Haven’t even asked how my day was yet, and here you are begging me to make this needy pussy cum,” Toji teased, “and after Ryo’ took such good care of you too.”
“Please,” you cried, shaking your head furiously against the damp pillows crumpled either side of you, “please don’t tease me.”
“Aw I’m sorry sweetheart,” Toji cooed, voice dripping thick with mock concern, “you just need it real bad, huh?”
The delicate shallow thrusts he had been nursing you with suddenly shifted, turned to long pulls smacked back inside hard enough that you felt the tip of him kiss somewhere deep and delicate. Each buck had your legs quivering, and a sharp little shock of pain and pleasure in equal measure sizzling over your skin.
You were lucid enough only to know that he was moving, slow methodical thrusts that felt achingly tender. Each twitch of his worked muscle was purposeful, each motion entirely controlled and aimed to break you apart.
“Shh, just feel it. You feel me, right baby? Nice ‘n deep.” The words were sin incarnate, purred right into your ear.
You were nodding before you could think, slurring a string of unintelligible words alongside breathy cries of his name, strung together like a prayer.
“Deep… deeper…”
The scent of him was intoxicating, dizzying. The sharp sting of fresh sweat and his own familiar woody musk was enough to have you lifting your trembling legs just to hook a heel over his hip and tug him closer.
“Finally knocked all the brains outta you, huh?” Toji teased, “That’s alright, don’t need to think. Just keep squeezin’ this pretty little pussy around me, yeah?”
One of your hands fled the sheets to instead grasp at one of Toji’s bare shoulders, fingers digging into the muscle there.
“Kiss me,” you panted, blinking up at him with wide wet eyes, blown black and glossy with need, “oh, hng-… please Toji…”
Toji didn’t bother with a reply, instead he simply dipped his head and captured your lips in a kiss so sudden you barely had the wherewithal to suck in a lungful of air before he was swiping any lingering thoughts away with the hot slide of his tongue.
You melted into the touch, letting the roll of his jaw guide your movements - moaning in surprise when his teeth nipped at your cracked lower lip, your grip on his shoulder tightening when his tongue met yours.
When you finally split apart you were sufficiently softened by the blend of his sweet kisses and the steady rock of his hips, brain humming quietly like the static of a tv set to a dead channel.
“Good?” Toji questioned, head tilting.
You just nodded, struggling to keep you gaze affixed on the inky strands of hair slipping over Toji’s forehead, that was until a sudden blur of colour crept into the edge of your vision.
“Oi, what are you?-…”
You watched, motion a little delayed, as Sukuna’s hand slid across the back of Toji’s neck. Toji’s eyes widened an inch, looking genuinely shocked for just a moment before Sukuna’s grip tightened, firm hand forcing his head upward until they finally met in a rough crashing of lips.
Peering up you simply watched, entranced, at the slide of pink tongue between sticky sweet flutters of your lashes. Eyes caught on the way Toji’s brows lifted and his hips stuttered just a little when Sukuna’s hand tightened into a fist at his nape, strands of silky black hair sticking wayward through his thick fingers.
Toji grunted into the kiss, rougher now - a tumble of teeth and tongue in stark contrast to the slow rhythm of the embrace you had shared. One of Toji’s hands curled over your hip, thumb mindlessly tracing the bone there. The other found Sukuna’s chest, grasping a handful of fabric before he was shoving the other man backwards.
You watched a glittering thread of spit link them for a moment before it split, and you must have clenched at the obscene sight because Toji made a choked sound above you, falling into the sensation a little like he were suddenly made of jelly.
“Fuck sweetheart,” he panted, lips glossed as he dug a fist into the mattress beside your head, “that’s it, just like that.”
His thrusts didn’t slow or soften, but they felt sloppier somehow, and when you blinked upward you realized why. Sukuna had stepped in behind Toji, plump chest pressed to his back, massive hand still curled around his nape, thumb rubbing soothing little shapes there. His head turned inward, lips pressed to the delicate little strip behind Toji’s ear, breathing so close you could see the speckle of goosebumps begin to prickle over Toji’s skin.
“C’mon Fushiguro,” Sukuna purred, quiet enough that you could barely hear the sweet syrupy words, “don’t get soft on me now.”
Dazed, you watched Sukuna raise a spare hand to his lips, thumb pressed against tongue beneath the glint of pearly canines before he reached past Toji’s hips and tucked it between your thighs. You jerked at the sudden contact, the searing heat of his slick thumb, calloused and rough and perfect against your abused clit.
“Bastard…” Toji gritted, breaths coming ragged now, panting between barely masked grunts of pleasure as his head dipped beneath the weight of the palm at his nape. His gaze was glassy, glued to where you were clamping around him, where your slick was painting the dark curls at his belly white.
Sukuna only grinned in reply, and you could hear the lazy glee lacing his tone with his next words, thumb still rolling over your twitching nub as you writhed beneath his touch.
“Go on now,” he rumbled, low and filthy over the shell of Toji’s ear, and you swore you felt Toji twitch in response. “make the pretty girl cum.”
You could feel it, the looming buzz of your orgasm, curling like the crest of a wave, hot and tight in your belly like the slow cinching of a knot.
“Close ‘ji…’m close,” you slurred, “gonna… hn!- ‘m gonna…”
“I’m right here sweetheart,” Toji was groaning now, shivering a little as the hand at his nape tightened once more. His thrusts were wild - wide sloppy pumps driven haphazardly into the slick mess between your thighs. Sukuna’s thumb continued its assault, drawing steady heart shapes over your clit, right above where Toji was busy splitting you open.
“C’mon princess,” Toji pleaded, words accented with a kicking throb that you felt all the way in your gut, “give it to me.”
You let your eyelids fall shut, squeezed tightly against the way your vision was beginning to blur at the edges. Senses dulled, sounds and scents becoming more and more distant with each second of rising pleasure until suddenly the knot snapped, and you were unraveling along with it.
Toji cursed somewhere beyond the numbed blackness of your senses, and alongside it you felt a flood of heat and the familiar twitching pulse of him as he filled you. Firm hands gripped your waist like an anchor, holding you in place as you squirmed against his final stuttered humps, wracked with unending wave after wave of white hot pleasure.
“Shh, that’s it, that’s a good girl…” Toji was cooing into your ear, forehead pressed to the pillow, only hair tickling your cheek.
The words were a salve, a balm smoothed over your mind until all that was left was the honeyed buzz of pleasure.
You sucked in a shaky breath and realized along with it that you were crying, cheeks soaked and salted with fresh tears. You let your limbs fall, limp and exhausted against the sheets. A subtle ache was beginning to settle in your muscles, in your bones, and yet beneath it all you still felt it - that itch deep inside, like an unending, desirous pit.
“More…” you croaked, voice utterly broken despite your pleading.
Toji scoffed somewhere above you - sounding equal parts shocked and proud at your incessant appetite. You heard the distant thump of approaching footfalls, followed by the telltale creak of a knee digging into the mattress before the bed was dipping beneath a considerable weight, and you felt Toji slip out with a slick sucking sound.
“Move Fushiguro, think I just got my second wind.”
────────────────
a/n: kinda ahhh drabble while I work on longer fics bc I’m stuck thinking about tojikuna, hope you enjoy anyway <3
AHH I LOVE UR WRITING SO MUCH :3 can I please request edging sub!kinich??
“love how you got me #speechless…” — sub! kinich x gn! reader
there was just something about making your boyfriend kinich beg for it. it’s adorable really, the way his usually deep voice would uncharacteristically peak,
or how his back would arch up into your hand—desperate for friction when the rush of his climax fades to ashes again, making him whine.
small tears would well up in his eyes, “mmfgh… p—please, [name] m’begging y- you…! ahhn-“
his moan quickly getting cut off with the sudden quick stroke, your fist now in contact with his base. his tip angry n’ pink— you swear you could see such pretty beads of white leaking from his cock,
kinich only leans his head against your shoulder, you’re sat in front of him like a doll, sitting so closely to his rock-hard shaft, your finger teasingly rubs the clearly prominent veins that reach all over his length,
“f—uuck! mmn, p-please… baby, i-i’m… s’fuckin’ cl- close again…”
“mhm, but i want my good boy to come when j say so, okay?”
you swear you could feel him twitch in your palm when you say that, his face covered in dark hues, his hair messy and disheveled.
all you could feel in the air was how thick the atmosphere had gotten, it was cute whenever his brows would knit together—it was his tell when he was getting closer!
“jus’ hold it okay? m’jus gonna count ‘till five. and when i reach five, you can come,”
you place a soft kiss onto his forehead before moving your hand again, a long groan leaves his throat as he nods. heavy breaths leave him with a clear desperation in his tone,
“one…”
your voice starts out soft, whispering it so softly into his ear while leaning in to place more kisses on his cheek.
small whimpers leave him as his canines bite down onto his lower lip, trying to keep the rush of heat at bay; he only has an even harder time when you start to stroke a little faster,
“twooo…”
now your fingers focused on massaging his cockhead, making him hang his head back, his other hand momentarily covering his mouth, kinich is putty in your hands with how nice your warm palm feels like.
“fu… ck—mmn,” “can you keep going?”
“yes! yesyesyes, i can!”
his voice was quick and filled with desire, you could tell from the way his chest was heaving so hurriedly when he started to let out soft mewls of your name under his breath.
most would consider it almost a prayer with how fast he was trying to mutter each syllable,
“two—“
his eyes are shot wide when he realizes what you’re doing. fuck.
“haah- p-please, i can’t…”
“can’t handle it? aww, but i thought you were my good boy, kin’…”
the shine in your eye immediately got him to cave, swallowing hard, his adam’s apple bobs as he shakes his head, “nonono, i-i can handle it…”
“good.”
pressing a kiss onto his lips, it felt hungry—rather aggressive, thrusting himself up into your hand,
a string of shared saliva is made as you’re pulling away, “three,”
god your voice alone would be enough for kinich to come right here and now.
“ahh… hnnghaah—“ his moans continued to drag out the more your fingers would play with his cockhead, letting out a choked moan when you rub your thumb against his slit that’s already oozing a greedy line of precum.
“aww, you’re just the cutest…”
for a moment, you bring your thumb up to your mouth and lick it before going in to kiss him one more time.
your hand returns to palm his erection again, more obscene sounds being let out into the deep kiss you had kinich locked into, it was pathetic how well he was taking you.
only leaving his mouth for a moment to continue your count—“four.”
your tongues intertwine again, his heartbeat had raised a while ago, you could practically hear the way both of your heart were beating out your chests,
“mmmn—four—haah…”
kinich tenses in your hands, almost waiting for your command when-
“five.”
long strings of pearly white seed spray up, the rush of warmth he had been so desperately keeping down finally releasing alongside the prolonged moans of your name;
some of him getting onto his stomach and your own, you pull him in for one more lazy kiss.
Im suppose to be writing but I have to get this off my chest
NSFW! MINORS, DNI!
Lohen is suffering from a big rush of adrenaline.
His hands shake, breath uneven and mind still reeling. He can surmise its probably from the near death experience. But he isn't scared.
No.
He's shaking. His head throbs, his heart is beating away painfully in his chest, so much so that he has to clutch the spot to reel himself in; in a sick, fastening way, it feels good. The rush of battle always gets him going, but not usually to this extent.
Not in the way where hes unable to stand up from where hes been bounded; there's no physical restraints holding him in his place, but the mental head fog is making his vision dazed. His mind is a muddled mess, but he bares his teeth at you, smiling widely in the complete ire on your face.
You're supposed to be furious with him. You are furious at him. Your hand yanks his hair with intent to tear it clean off his scalp. The handle of your blade is at the back of his throat, itching to cut his body free. It'd be a mercy to it, severing the pretty thing from the messed up brain Lohen racks senseless every day.
You hate him. You hate him. You hate him so much that it burns the back of your throat when the words try to claw out. You hate him so much that your eyes sting at the sight of him. Your hands itch, they ache raw at how much restraint it takes to stop from ending this damnation that is a man.
But behind all of that is fear—fear of losing him by your own hand, or by any other. If you nudged the sharp edge of your blade any closer, he'd be done for. So why can't you?
You hate him—you should hate him more. You want to hate him more. You want to hurt him more.
What residual affection could you possibly hold for this man?
You look at him with complete contempt. Even with his hair cut uneven by your blade, blood showing through the whites of his clothing, and that disturbing smitten look that twists his enchanting features into something ominous and unsettling, your heart throbs in your chest. You hate him. You hate him so much you want to cry.
You press your boot on his thigh, pressing heavily on the wound you inflicted at the start of your fight.
Well, at the start of when he ambused you in the goddamn woods. You noticed his eyes glinting in darkness, light catching on the edge of his spear as he aimed to kill you.
You try not think about what his kisses felt like. How good waking up next him him felt. How you liked to stare at him while he slept, rays of sunshine warming his dull toned features.
"I hate you," you tell him. Ignore the mornings you two spent around Nod Krai's market place. Evenings you two sat on your aching knees doodling side by side with Klee. Nights huddled at the base of dragon spine, one comforter shared between the two of you, a sad fire as your only life lines.
You don't ignore his hard on at your words. You ignore the way you press your boot on it, and step. He cries out, head knocking down and hiding his mirthful expression from you. You ignore why you're indulging him. What it says about you, even when you hate him—when you're supposed to hate him more than this.
"You ruined my life." You knick the skin of his neck, clench his hair with your hands and drag his head back up to force him to see the scorn you carry for him. Try not to think about the promises you two made. "I really—" your voice cracks. You press down hard, sword, hand, and boot. "I really fucking hate you, 'Lo."
You don't know why you call him by old nickname. Try to understand how he gasps and bucks underneath you, ruining his own pants and any esteem you might've had left for him.
You pulled your foot away from him, unwilling to help him ride out the last bits of his orgasm. You pull away completely, repulsivity washing throughout your entire body. To your horror, you find none of it is directed at him, but instead yourself.
What's wrong with you? Why do you keep coming back to him? Why do you continue to let him reel you in and play with you like this?
He pants, a hand going to the ground between his thighs as he's forced to keep himself up without the weight of your leg. His brows are bent in a way that feels taunting towards you, but his eyes are filled with the same devotion you remember. "I know you do," he exhales messily, a wicked smile on his face.
"But I know you," Lohen trembles, adrenaline still pulsing through him. You're unsure if that's what causes him to drop his weight back onto you, pressing into your thigh. He looks up at you with reverence. "And it's not enough, is it?"
You stare at him, something close to indignation growing in the pit of your stomach. You're frozen, much like he is paralyzed.
You know him. You know what he's about to say—what's going to pass his mouth. You've heard him say the words before, felt the fresh pain each time he said it. You dread it. But you're stuck.
Your ears buzz, trying drown out the words before he said them. "You need me, don't you?"
You wince, the words causing physical pain.
You should kill him now.
It's what he wanted, isn't it? Isn't that the reason he keeps taunting you, goading you into this repetitive cycle?
But you can't. You hate him, but you can't. You loathed him, imagined him dead, cursed every breath he took, looked away with every glance he stole of you and found you already staring back. Resented how you yearned for him, and how he never cared to ache quite as hard.
Quiet fear drills it's way into your heart. You struggle to back away from him. Your sword breaks across his back with your ungainly motions, and he shivers like you gifted him something precious.
You want to tell him he's wrong, but your voice is failing you. Your entire body fails you as you struggle, scared of the man in front of you and the brute of what he makes you feel towards him.
"I hate you," you breathe, because it's all you have. "I hate you," the words echo. Your throat closes, but you refuse to cry in front of him again. "I hate you, Lohen. Does that make you happy? Do you feel good, now that you've hurt me in the worse way possible? That you turned my love into a weapon against me?" You sniffle. You're completely pathetic. "I hate you."
He's unmoved when tears finally patter down your face. You must've missed when he found his weapon, using it as a crutch to stand on his wounded leg.
You see him take the same stance he does before every fight; you've seared it into your memory.
You force yourself to rub your tears away and do the same. You know by now comes next. You force your heart away behind the wall he manages to keep crumbling, readying yourself. His voice is unnervingly excited, as if the two of you are living in two different moments.
"Then prove it." He urges, cruel delight edged in his features.
You force yourself to move seconds after he does. This time, you promise to yourself, I'll kill him.
(🚨MINORS DNI I REFUSE TO BE THE REASON YOU GO TO THERAPY - 18+ ONLY🚨)
(no spoilers for manga! If anything seems inaccurate, it's for the anime watchers so be nice to me!)
You join Olruggio in his chambers and tell him of your worries about Qifrey. Together, you agree on taking care of Qifrey, giving him enough attention to help him finally relax.
or
Qifrey is a pathetic bottom and you both fuck him senseless
—————————————————————————
Giving Attention
The room is quiet when you enter. Nothing but the sound of pen scratching and lantern crackles cloud the sounds of your footsteps as you make your way towards Olruggio’s upstairs study. He knows the sounds of you well enough not to holler at your intrusion.
Pen scratching falters as you reach the top of the stairs, and Olruggio is already watching you as you move to take a seat on his desk beside his work.
He doesn’t bother asking why you’re here; he just raises a brow.
“I have an idea,” you say, and from the sultry tone of your voice, he leans back in his chair and folds his arms in front of his chest, listening as he widens the space between his legs.
“Go on.”
“Qifrey. Thought we could visit him tonight.”
He chuckles, “Tired of being in the middle already?”
“Oh, never,” you laugh. “Just thought it might help him a bit.”
Olruggio leans forward. “Is there something wrong?”
“Not sure, you know the man.” You shrug, “He snapped at me earlier today. Of course, he immediately apologized, knowing he was in the wrong, but before I could get anything out of him, he was gone to cool off.”
Olruggio was holding his chin between his fingers, looking perturbed and waiting for you to continue. You huff at his overvigilance, answering the question his expression was asking, “He wasn’t mean, just snippy.”
He nods, leaning back into his seat.
“He’s not sleeping, either.”
“That’s fairly normal.”
“Not like this,” you contend, “I can’t figure out why.”
Olruggio nods, then stands. You say, already knowing where he was off to, “I’ve already set your wine on the kitchen counter.”
He smiles, giving you a chaste kiss before leaving for the kitchen.
“Thank you, Love.”
—————
“Oh!” Qifrey exclaims, opening the door to find you on the other side. Your knuckles were raised to rap on his door, but were abruptly interrupted by his sudden intrusion. “I was… on my way to see you,” he says, giving you a smile.
“Perfect!” You grin. “But we were actually on our way to see you.”
As if on cue, Olruggio rounds the corner with an already open bottle. At the sight of the man, a dusting of pink covers Qifrey’s pale complexion. He was slowly piecing it together.
“My rooms?” he questions, surprised. His face was deepening in color by the second.
You turn to Olruggio, sharing a look before saying, “Is that alright?”
“Yes, of course.” He glances behind him, weight shifting between his feet. Qifrey stands awkwardly in the doorway, then finally nods, heading back into his rooms.
You and Olruggio share another look. He shrugs, taking a swig from his wine as he follows Qifrey into his rooms. You follow, closing the door behind you and placing a spell on the door.
Olruggio points to Qifrey's bed, directing him to sit. The silver-haired man awkwardly follows his command, squeezing his knees as he watches the two of you post up in front of him. Olruggio turns to you.
“Go ahead and strip, Love.”
You bit your lip, locking eyes with a blushing Qifrey as you grabbed at your robes. It wasn’t like the poor man had never seen you naked, but rather, he’d never been at the center of the both of your attentions.
The cold air is harsh against your nipples as they peak against its contact. As you let your skirts drop from your waist, you feel your cunt grow wetter with the earnest attention from the two men on your actions. When you were finally bare, Olruggio dragged his gaze away from your body, bringing it to Qifrey.
“Your turn.”
Qifrey gulps. You’d never seen him so nervous before. He anxiously fiddles as he kicks off his shoes, then slowly works at his black undershirt. You see his muscles tense as he works at the lace of his pants. Again, it wasn’t like you hadn’t seen either of them naked before, but each time, it excited you as if it were the first.
Finally, with a lift of his hips, he pulls the rest of his clothes from his body, leaving both of you bare for Olruggio to relish.
Olruggio grabs at his robes, swiftly undoing them as he says, “Go ahead, Love.”
You listen, sinking a knee onto the bed as you turn, settling at Qifrey's side. You prop up a leg, guiding Qifrey to lean against it as you cage him in with a thigh. You’re effectively straddling his hip as he makes himself comfortable sitting upright on the bed.
You rest a hand on his thigh as Olruggio settles between his legs. His presence alone widens their stance, but with firm hands on each of Qifrey’s knees, he spreads them until everything is bare for him to see.
Qifrey blushes a bright red and averts his gaze, but his cock hardens under Olruggio’s attention.
The two of them had been together before, so you knew Olruggio wasn’t the reason for his bashfulness. Instead, your bearing witness to it all was what made Qifrey so anxious. You squeeze Qifrey’s thigh, then rest an elbow on the knee encapsulating him. Using the advantage to rest your hand in Qifrey’s hair, you scratch your fingers into the base of his scalp in a comforting manner. You feel the muscles in his shoulders loosen, and you wrap yourself around Qifrey tighter.
Olruggio, eyes not leaving Qifrey’s, grabs your hand from Qifrey’s thigh and brings it to his lips. He uses his tongue to drag its wetness along the length of your hand, then brings it to Qifrey’s length, using his large grasp to enclose yours around the throbbing thickness of it.
Following, you tighten your grasp, dragging the slickness from base to tip as Qifrey lets out a moan. Qifrey’s body loosens more, and you quicken your pace, easing your grip and pulling tighter as you reach his tip.
Olruggio takes a deep pull from his wine as his gaze doesn’t leave his cock. He settles the wine beside him, wipes its remnants from his lips, then pulls off his shirt from his body.
Qifrey sucks in a breath, and the both of you savor the sight as Olruggio stands to kick off the rest of his clothes. When his knees slam back down, two of his fingers are in the warmth of his mouth, his cheeks hollowing as he lathers them in slick.
He lines them up at Qifrey’s entrance, starting with one before adding the other. Slowly, he pushes in, and both of them groan at the tightness. You kiss at Qifrey’s shoulder, feeling as the muscles throughout his body tighten.
Olruggio uses the finger to work him open, pushing in slowly and pressing inside, hitting the spot inside of Qifrey that has him moaning harder as you work at his cock. Olruggio adds the second finger, using the girth of them to spread Qifrey wider, adding urgency to Qifrey’s moans as he’s worked through.
With his free hand, Olruggio uses a finger to form a ring around the head of Qifrey’s cock, stopping your hand from advancing further as he replaces the sensation with his tongue along Qifrey’s tip.
Qifrey cries out pathetically, grasping onto your pumping forearm and wringing his other hand into the bedsheets. His head falls further back into your fingers gripped in his hair, and you soothe him with gentle scratches as he chokes on moans.
Slowly, Olruggio lifts your grip from Qifrey’s cock, placing a kiss on your slick palm before bringing his lips back to Qifrey’s tip. Olruggio slides his head down his lengthy cock, gagging as he reaches the base. You grip the back of Olruggio’s neck, soothing him as he attempts to hide his struggle taking the length of him in one stride. Qifrey thrashes, but you coo into his ear, coaxing him to relax.
You notice the struggle continues as Olruggio tries to focus on both gagging down his cock and spreading him open. You grip Olruggio by his hair, taking control and using his mouth like a cock sleeve on Qifrey’s length. You hear Olruggio swallow, letting his throat loosen as you take control of the efforts coming from his mouth.
Qifrey is squeezing the fat on your thighs so hard that you know it will bruise. Thank the goddesses for the required witches' robes.
It doesn’t take long for Qifrey to loosen his grip to slap at your thigh, mindlessly trying to get your attention as he starts to panic.
“Stop! Stop–I’m going to-!”
You pull Olruggio’s mouth off with a pop, and he gasps, freeing his fingers from Qifrey and catching his breath.
Qifrey is gasping, his hips thrusting of their own accord as he tries to calm himself. His cock looks painfully hard, and you kiss at his shoulder, whispering a “good job” as Olruggio straightens.
Olruggio’s cock is in his hand, dripping with precum as he slides his fists along his length. He licks at his bruised lips, looking to Qifrey beneath lowered lashes as he asks, “Ready?”
Qifrey weeps a moan in response, and you giggle against his shoulder.
“You’ll be alright; I’m right here.”
Qifrey’s cock jerks as he continues to gasp on breaths, and you kiss him on the shoulder, resting your chin in the crook of his neck as you give Olruggio a look to continue. He lines himself up with Qifrey’s entrance, and you scratch your fingers through Qifrey’s hair as Olruggio pushes in.
You whisper soothing coos as he slowly fucks himself in further, and you kiss at Qifrey’s chin as he bottoms out.
You run your free hand along Qifrey’s thigh as Olruggio gives him a second to adjust. Gradually, Olruggio begins to thrust into his tight heat, cursing under his breath as he speeds up his pace.
“There you go,” you whisper to Qifrey. “You’re taking it so well.”
He moans pitifully, biting his lip to cover the embarrassing sounds. You grab his chin, pulling his face to yours. You kiss him, opening his mouth and forcing the moans from his lips.
Olruggio begins to pound into him, not stopping as you pull away to straddle Qifrey’s thighs. Qifrey mindlessly grabs onto your hip with a hand, the other covering his mouth as you line him up with your entrance.
You grab onto his forearm, pulling his hand from his mouth as you slide down onto his cock.
The cry he lets out is pitiful, his head thrashing as he adjusts to the overwhelming sensation. He holds you firmly in place, not letting you move. You lean forward to kiss the whimper from Qifrey’s lips, and Olruggio grabs at your ass, biting back a moan as you give him a view that has him pounding into Qifrey harder.
Qifrey’s whimpers are music to your ears, egging you on as you kiss down his neck. You begin to move against his attempt at restraint, slowly dragging your cunt away from the base of his cock before sliding back down with a breathy moan.
You’d never heard the sounds escaping from Qifrey’s lips coming from him before, and if you couldn’t have felt the hardness buried in your cunt you would’ve thought you were hurting the man. The thought shouldn’t have turned you on, but you found yourself fucking harder onto his cock, dripping down his balls as you grabbed his waist for balance.
Olruggio’s hand slides from your ass up the length of your body, landing in your hair with a firm grip as he pulls, bringing your lips to his.
He kisses you harshly, not letting either of your paces interrupt his efforts. It’s messy and labored, but your lips meet with lustful fervor. He pulls away with a throaty moan, slamming his grasp to Qifrey’s thigh as he groans, “He’s close.”
You bring your attention back to Qifrey, noting the tears welling in his eyes as he stares blankly at the ceiling, lost in utter bliss as his body tightens, lungs giving out as he’s choking on a whimper. His fingers are spasming as he tries to keep ahold of your thighs, but you grab ahold of them, squeezing tight as you continue to bounce on his cock.
“You’re alright, Qifrey. You can come in me.”
Qifrey chokes on a gasp, tears streaming down the sides of his face as his cock spasms, releasing shots of hot cum into your cunt until it's dripping down your thighs. Olruggio finishes behind you, cumming with a heavy groan as he rests his head on your shoulder. You finish along with them, feeling your cunt spasm around Qifrey’s softening cock.
Slowly, Olruggio pulls himself from Qifrey’s quivering hole, being sure to be careful with Qifrey as his body calms. Still catching his breath after his own orgasm, Olruggio helps lift your body off of Qifrey’s, groaning at the sight of the spend dripping from your cunt. He helps you lift a thigh to settle at Qifrey's side before leaving for the bathing chambers.
Qifrey’s body shakes as you lie him back on your stomach. His head rests between your breasts, and he mindlessly pulls you in closer, snuggling into your comfort. Olruggio comes back with a rag in hand, chuckling at the sight. He hands it to you, and you clean Qifrey before working on yourself. Olruggio, ever the caregiver, disposes of it swiftly before coming back with more blankets.
He closes the enchanted lamp before embracing you both with his warmth. Within moments, Qifrey is snoring softly. Olruggio brings a finger to his lips as you hold back a giggle. Your plan had worked, after all.
Olruggio kisses you silently on your temple. He snuggles his head into the crook of your neck, the scruff of his beard tickling your shoulder as he gets comfortable. He pulls both of your bodies tighter and lets his own relax.
You sleep soundly within the warmth of your boys, happy to have them both resting comfortably within your solace.
choso slides the tight, pink fabric that glides over his shoulders and barely reaches his thighs. although, the short silk dress does absolutely nothing to hide his throbbing, painful erection building up, pre forming in his prominent cock, soaking into the matching pink panties that were originally for you until you thought it was a great idea to have him model the set first.
he struggles walking out of the walk in closet, the fabric hugging him oh so tight.
"wow, cho. didn't know you were actually going to agree with this. it looks great on you." you grin, putting your hands on your hips.
"it really doesn't, sweetheart.. this is all so tight and too overwhelming for me." his eyebrows furrow, looking at you with a silent plea to let him take it off. he was willing to walk around the house naked if it meant taking the pink lingerie off.
"ah, you're not taking it off the way you think, choso. come here."
he tries his hardest to walk over to you, well, in the normal way he walks, but ends up just walking like he's got a stick up his ass for the last few steps towards you.
you place a hand on the side of his face, nails digging in softly before tongues work in tandem— saliva mixing together to collect at the side of choso's mouth.
your lips slide down to his collarbone, soft lips leaving purple hickeys aalll over his pretty chest.
he groans, hands digging into your scalp, tangling into your hair.
"f—fuck, sweetheart…"
your lips move down, kissing every inch of pale skin, up until his dick.
your hands move down to his hips, skilled fingers pulling the pre- soaked panties off of his hard cock.
"oh, fuck, choso. this soaked just for me?" you tap a finger onto his pink tip, liquid strings pulling back with your fingers.
he moans, legs going wobbly. "yes, baby. god, you're a fucking sadist— watching me in pain. this is too tight, fuuuckk.."
the 'fuck' is accentuated with a lick, tongue lapping up the salty pre before lips wrap around his lengthy cock.
his grip around your hair tightens once more, hands shaking in your scalp.
your hands wrap tightly around the base of his dick, pumping what couldn't fit into your mouth.
he hisses one last time, before a vast amount of cum shoots into your mouth, musky release coating your plush lips.
his hands loosen in your hair, dropping your face down to the floor before grabbing it back up again, spit n cum mixing together in a pathetic attempt to merge you two together.
"..that was… amazing, sweetheart." he says, red marks on his muscled skin as you rip the silk lingerie clean off of him.
18+ ; f!reader ; dirty talk ; unprotected p in v ; pussydrunk!qifrey ; possible ooc ; rusty ahh writing
pussy deprived bf!qifrey had made the difficult decision years ago to begin abstaining from the desires of flesh to focus on teaching magic. he had battered down every urge and scared away every fantasy; and he’d been very successful in doing so.
that was, until you, of course. you just had a way of melting his mind and ripping his desires to the surface aggressively in a way that he simply couldn’t fight.
and when he finally gave in and let himself slip between your thighs and experience heaven again, already warm and wet and ready—oh, he completely lost it.
you didn’t even have to beg him to fuck you—because he slides between your slick thighs with so much enthusiasm it catches you off guard. lines his hot, already leaking tip up with your drippy hole and pushes in with a feral, throaty groan.
“o-oh, fuuuck,” it’s broken, deep, littered with gravel and so, so hot that it has your tummy swooping; he’s so hard and thick inside you, spreading you out long before he even bottoms out.
and when the fine hairs at the base of his cock do bump gently into your clit as he sheathes himself completely inside, you both release similar sounds of euphoria. your body is absolutely buzzing, gooey pussy so full and stretched, and you just want him to fuck you. bully that thick cock into your stomach until you explode.
and you don’t even have to tell him. the instant you think it, he’s moving—rolling and bucking his hips so expertly into yours that you have to grip the sheets to keep from floating away.
“mmm, fuck—gods, beautiful, ‘s so good—y’feel so fuckin’ good.” qifrey rumbles in between the fast, wet slaps, plump lips finding yours to connect them messily. you can barely respond to it through your moans and mewls, through the haze of euphoria that his dick fucks into you.
but really, it’s less of a kiss and more of a messy tangle of tongues and teeth, just the two of you licking into each other’s mouths and tasting; devouring with heated desire too long stamped down.
it’s so sloppy, so wet and lewd, and qifrey is losing his mind. keeps panting and moaning into you, cock throbbing inside your mushy walls and hips bucking madly. like he can’t get enough of the way you clamp and suck him, the way you flutter around him every time his abdomen connects with your puffy clit.
and you can’t get enough either. finally feeling his thick cock fill you up, over and over, the thing you’d craved—it has you wanting even more.
“don’t stop,” you find yourself mewling, toes curling and back arching with each slide. your stomach is knotting in on itself, orgasm building with such an intensity that it makes you feel dizzy. and he’s just slamming into you, keeping to that rhythm that makes your eyes roll back.
“never gon’a stop, baby,” qifrey rasps, dick absolutely kicking up, so long and hard. “‘m gon’a fuck’ya so good. make her cum s’much—,” he sounds so absolutely fucked, words mushed and slurred. you aren’t much better, though, pussy so wet and sloppy that it’s almost louder than your own moans and babbles.
you can’t really help it—qifrey is so fucking big, fucks you so good; you don’t think you’ve ever felt so dumb on a dick before.
“god, you deserve it—pussy’s too fucking good, baby—shit, yer so wet, she’s cryin’ on me—fuuuuck, so hot—yer amazing, you know? i fuckin’ love it s’much—,” you don’t think you’ve ever heard qifrey curse so much, or use such vulgar language—it’s a spectacle.
unfortunately, you can’t focus much on his babbling. can only focus on the way he fucks his cock into you, stuffs your cunt up over and over, kissing and rubbing every single sweet spot so effortlessly. he’s fucking you straight into stupidity, pulling your orgasm to the surface so fast that you can’t even mentally grasp it through the pleasure.
you don’t even feel the way you start to twitch and clench, but qifrey does. and he lets out the throatiest, loudest groan at the sensation. starts to fuck you harder, grip your flesh desperately and mouth his wet lips anywhere they can reach.
“oh, fuck—god, baby, yes—i feel ya, sweetheart. gon’a cum, yeah? ‘m gon’a make’ya cum, beautiful—fuck, give it to me, huh? right here on m’cock. ooh, fuuuuuckk, i want it s’bad—,”
you’re nodding, mumbling and mewling, arching into his firm body and squeezing around his cock. it’s right there, just a few more strokes of that delicious dick—
that’s when he goes absolutely feral. fucks so hard you start to see stars. so focused on fucking that orgasm right out of you that he’s reduced even himself to nothing but moans and grunts.
at least, until you start to cum—the instant he feels your walls flutter and gets that sweet cream on his cock, he’s falling apart.
“yes, goddamn, baby—that’s it, fuckin’ give it t’me. cum all over this cock, you earned it, baby. so fuckin’ goooood, shit— good girl, that’s it. let it go, jus’ let it go.”
he’s just so lost in it; lost in your moans, your hot body, your wonderfully sloppy pussy, the way you shake and tremble as you slop up his cock with your pretty eyes rolling back.
qifrey’s so completely wrapped up in you in all ways. so wrapped up, in fact, that he can’t find it in himself to stop even when you start to whine and wriggle away, mewling that you’re too sensitive and “qiiii’—‘s too much!”
he just keeps fucking, plugging his cock into your sweet pussy just to feel it squeeze and wring him. he’s obsessed with it. wants to feel it and fuck it and make you cum over and over until you simply can’t.
he’s simply making up for lost time, you see.
ps: please feel free to clog up my inbox with qifrey thirsts i need this man sb it’s actually debilitating! and i love community thirsting so PLEASE BABES PLEASE!! 🙏
you wanted to start to undress, lifting your shirt over your head when choso stopped you. “maybe you can… stay dressed?”
you eyed your boyfriend who sat on the edge of the bed completely naked, his cock twitching and leaking against his stomach after all the heated kisses. his cheeks were flushed, eyes glassy.
“you want me to stay dressed?” you asked, surprised.
“mhmm.” he nodded shyly, biting his lip. that’s how you ended up dry humping choso’s bare leg.
your soaked panties dragged slowly against his thick, muscular thigh, the friction making you sigh softly. choso whimpered beneath you, hands trembling as they rested on your hips.
“feels so good…” his cock lay heavy and untouched against his abs, leaking messily every time you rolled your hips. “you’re so wet… i can feel it all over my leg.”
you braced your hands on his shoulders and ground down harder, the wet patch on your panties growing darker as you rubbed your clothed pussy against his bare skin. choso’s head fell back with a moan, thighs flexing underneath you.
“please… don’t stop,” he begged quietly, looking up at you with needy eyes. “use me. use my leg however you want… i just want to feel you.”
you moved faster, grinding your swollen clit against the firm muscle of his thigh. choso was panting now, chest heaving, cock twitching helplessly as it continued to drip precum all over his stomach. he looked so pretty like this—completely naked and desperate while you stayed fully dressed, using him for your pleasure.
“you’re making such a mess.”
choso whimpered, fingers digging into your hips. “i’m sorry… can’t help it. you feel too good. i’m so hard it hurts but… fuck, i love when you use me like this.”
you leaned forward and kissed him, still grinding on his thigh. choso moaned into your mouth, tongue sliding against yours obediently as his cock continued leaking, completely ignored between you.
“please…” he whispered against your lips. “keep going. make yourself cum on me. i want to feel it.”
you smiled against his mouth and rolled your hips harder, soaking his bare leg even more while choso trembled and whimpered beneath you.
“i’m close—”
“yes— please cum on me,” choso whispered. “i want to feel it. please—”
your orgasm hit you hard, riding out every wave while choso watched with wide eyes. he couldn’t look away from the sight—the way your soaked panties rubbed against his thigh, the shiny wetness on his skin, the way your body trembled on top of him.
“oh god—” without any touch to his cock at all, choso suddenly came.
thick ropes of cum spurted from his untouched cock, painting his stomach and chest in messy streaks. he whimpered your name, completely lost in the sight of you cumming on his thigh. his cock continued twitching and leaking even after he finished, still painfully hard.
you slowed your movements, breathing heavily as you looked down at him. “you came…” you whispered, a little stunned.
he nodded weakly, cheeks burning red. “couldn’t help it… you looked so pretty cumming on me.” and then he pulled you down into a messy kiss, still trembling from his untouched orgasm.
pairings (separate) : gojo x reader, geto x reader, dilf!toji x reader, choso x reader, nanami x reader, sukuna x reader, higuruma x reader.
tw. afab!reader, themes of sexual addiction, p in v, heavy overstimulation, exhibitionism, public orgasm, begging, praise kink, creampies, multiple orgasms, spanking, unprotected sex, oral sex (m. rec), dirty talk, manhandling, rough sex, handjob (m. rec), extreme perviness, ovulation week munchies, generally pathetic jjk men.
>> gojo satoru x nympho!reader who uses his cock as her personal sex toy !
"baby—hah !— baby sl-slow down a little bit !" satoru whines, his fingers scrabbling desperately at your hips as you bounce on his painfully hard, now aching cock for what feels like the fifth ? no, sixth ? time that night alone. he'd honestly lost count ages ago.
"but m'not done yet, toruu !" you complain, voice slurring under the weight of just how deep the bulging head of gojo's cock slams inside of you. you knew the both of you had been at it for hours but it wasn't your fault that he felt sooo good buried balls-deep inside your pussy and besides, hadn't gojo himself boasted on and on about just how high his stamina was in the bedroom ?
and now, he was an overstimulated, whimpering mess lying beneath you, letting you use his cock as you please. a combined mess of your slick and the multiple loads satoru had fucked into your pussy were now dripping down his shaft in thick, sticky rivulets as they formed a creamy ring around the base of his cock.
"fuck—" gojo grunts when you clench tightly around him with a high-pitched moan that has his hips thrusting weakly back inside of you just to hear you make that beautiful, fucked-out sound over and over again.
god, with a pathetic, over-eager attitude like that the only thing he managed to stammer out through another minor orgasm was, "s'okay baby, j-just use me n' make yourself feel all nice and full, yeah ?"
>> geto suguru x nympho!reader who begs him for a creampie... even when she's ovulating !
it wasn't your fault that geto had spoiled you by keeping you nice and stuffed full of his cum every time you had sex, so much so, that even now when you're ovulating, your good sense flies straight out of the window and you beg him to take the condom off before he cums.
"but darling you— shit !— you could get pregnant." suguru, ever the voice of reason, tries to explain.
"I don't give fuck, sugu." you bite out through a moan as his cock kisses against your sweet spot in pin-point precision with every thrust. "I wan—want y'to cum inside me."
his brain blows a fuse at your needy whine and he swiftly pulls out of you, practically rips the condom off and stuff himself balls-deep back into your warm, wet walls.
your obscenely loud, pornographic moan and geto's groan of pure euphoria combined with relief at finally feeling you wrapped around his cock with absolutely nothing in between is loud enough to wake all the neighbours within a 10 mile radius of your apartment.
he fucks into you with a series of deep, stuttering thrusts before burying himself to the hilt within your pussy and spills inside of you with what feels like an excessive amount of release.
"can we go again ? I need more sugu. "
>> dilf!toji fushiguro x nympho!reader who throws a tantrum when she doesn't get her way!
"can't go on anymore ma' you've really done a number on me." toji grunts, carefully pulling out of your thoroughly fucked-out, now gaping pussy from how long he'd been bullying his cock into you.
the sudden emptiness makes you whine, "wh-what ? no! m'not done yet, jii ! I want more."
"more ? baby i think we just went 10 fuckin' rounds."
you pout at his words, "no we didn't. it was just 3. you're getting old."
"the fuck did you say to me ?" toji snaps, pinning you to the mattress again— ass-up, face down— with a bruising grip on your waist. "I said you're getting old, ji. you can't even keep with me." you whine petulantly, knowing exactly what toji was about to do to you next.
"fuckin' brat, always mouthin' off." he says gruffly before delivering a sharp slap to your ass. you squeal, instinctively attempting to pull away from the heavy weight of his hand pinning your hips in place.
"nah. you're not getting away after spoutin' bullshit like that. gonna make sure y'cant walk straight for a week after this." he says, before his cock pushes into you again with one brutal thrust, the sheer amount of slick leaking out of your pussy easing the thick slide of shaft within your tight walls.
you really did love getting your way.
>> choso kamo x nympho!reader who always needs his cock...even in public !
"I'm horny."
choso had come to anticipate these words at least a minimum of twice a day but when they were confessed to him in the middle of a crowd wedged uncomfortably close together in a public train, his brain fully short circuited for hot minute.
"choo, did you hear me ?" you whisper, pressed flush against his chest as you expectantly blink up at him.
"y-yeah, I heard you baby. I just—" gosh, did he really just notice the way your tits were pushed together in that top ?
choso is jerked back to reality when he suddenly feels you slap your palm against the rapidly stiffening bulge in his pants. "I knew it you perv, you're totally getting hard already !" you exclaim as quietly as you can.
he was the perv ? you were literally groping his now fully hard cock in a public train full of people ! god was he thankful that the crowd was facing the opposite direction.
choso barely manages to bite back a whimper when you start squeezing his cock in ample fistfuls with your bottom lip caught between your teeth in the most sinful expression he'd ever laid eyes on.
choso lets out an embarrassingly loud whine when you jerk the leaking head of his cock in a rough, almost crude motion; attracting curious glances from some of the other fellow passengers nearby before you prompt them to turn their heads away again with a polite smile of "there's definitely nothing to see over here! "
and when he feels a thick gush of warmth flooding across the front of his jeans, he knows that you'll definitely be the death of him some day.
>> nanami kento x nympho!reader who gets a 100 times worse during ovulation week !
nanami had never in his life before taken a leave from work to...fuck ?
on any normal given day you could barely keep your hands off of your husband but during ovulation week ? you were practically riding him all day long !
he'd finally taken a leave from the office because of your whiny pleas for him to just stay at home and fuck you and nanami being the perfect gentleman just couldn't bare to leave his wife all needy and alone in bed.
and so here he was with you riding him at 9 a.m. in the morning, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as his cock plunged into your tight, wet heat with every sloppy roll of your hips.
"f-feels— feelsogood kenny !" you cry and nanami twitches eagerly inside of you. he can tell by your half-lidded eyes and cum-drunk smile from going so many rounds previously that you are needy, sure but at the same time you are currently incapable of holding your own.
he gently guides your pliant form into a more comfortable position and begins to thrust upwards, the swollen head of his cock fucking into your sweet spot with every steady pump of his hips.
"does that feel better, my love ?" nanami groans against your throat and you nod happily as he brings you close to another orgasm.
>> sukuna ryomen x nympho!reader who keeps begging for it harder !
sukuna prided himself on being a man who liked his sex rough and had earned a reputation of always leaving his partner an overstimulated, whimpering mess by the time he was done with them.
but that was until he met you.
"harder, kuna !" you beg for what feels like the millionth time that night even as sukuna's hips slam into yours, the leaky tip of his cock kissing your cervix with each brutal thrust.
"the hell, woman ? gonna be asking me to fuck you through the wall next, dammit !" sukuna grunts, his voice rough with a mixture of heady pleasure and frustration. he tries his best to pick up the pace even more when —
"not enough." you whine, flipping him over in a surprising move that catches him off of his guard.
"the fuck are you— jesus christ yeah just like that !" sukuna groans as you slam yourself down on his cock, your pussy greedily swallowing his girth until he's buried to the very hilt within your walls.
"yes— fuck !" you exclaim, crying out with each over-eager bounce of your hips, burying his cock balls-deep within your weeping pussy before lifting your hips till just the tip remains with each thrust.
god, sukuna really didn't know what being fucked hard felt like before he'd met you.
> hiromi higuruma x nympho!reader with a serious oral fixation on his cock !
hiromi was used to how addicted you'd become to his cock— well, to be precise, how addicted you'd become to sucking his cock ever since the two of you had started sleeping together.
but nothing could've prepared him for the way you were currently shamelessly suckling on the flushed, pre-cum slicked head of dick while he was on the phone with a client !
he barely chokes back on a grunt when you start sucking his cock in earnest, pumping whatever you can't fit of his shaft with practiced little twists of your wrist that have his hips bucking into your throat.
"mmph !" you moan, your eyes filled with pure, unadulterated, cock-drunk joy as you blow him noisily.
"darling, I'm on the phone !" hiromi hisses, angling away from the receiver and you shrug, flicking your tongue against the tip of his length and forcing him to cut the phone call with a lousy stammered excuse.
"just like that. such a good girl—fuck !" he groans, pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail and you sigh contentedly at the praise, sucking him off harder.
tags : @melcozumimi, @kelbrave, @sirensdairy, @bluetoska, @thebootypenetrator.
dm or comment here to be added to the taglist.
Summary: Anons do a good job of explaining what's going on here!
Warning(s): [Unestablished Relationship(Reader and Bachelors are more so fuck-buddies than in a relationship)], 50:50 porn and plot (Kinda-ish?), Shane x Emily content / Sam x Sebastian content (Sam and Sebastian actually masturbate together while Shane thinks of Emily while touching himself), Rough sex, Alex fucks someone else while thinking of you, Mutual Masturbation, Degradation (Shane's part), Overstimulation, Lots of "Touching yourself in front of someone else" content in here, Heavy Teasing in Harvey's solo part, Some good ol' fashioned Throat-Fucking in Alex's part.
Side Note(s): This took way longer than I expected— sorry for the wait, folks!
Now, for me to get down to business and pump out a Balor smut fic, a ZZZ fic, and then back to the program.
Elliot
[No Relationship]
I'm going to kickstart this list off by saying— Elliot is definitely the type of guy to be really breathless when he masturbates. Tons of heavy breathing and having a really hard time overall focusing on the material he's using to jerk off to when he starts getting into the moment.
I'm talking shaky book in one hand while the other is slowly rubbing his cock, particularly with a focus on rubbing the underside of his cock just underneath the cockhead.
Speaking of material to jerk off to by the way— I can't see him using traditional(?) media as something to jerk off to? Erotica, maybe even a spicy audiobook, are more of his go-tos as I can see him being the type to like the build-up and the slow-rising tension before diving into the actual sex.
However, the build-up is enough to jog his imagination tbh. Once that's done, he's able to take care of the rest from there via fisting himself to what's going on inside his head.
♡ - "F-Fuck..." Elliot whimpered breathlessly to the ceiling of his cabin, throwing his head back against the pillow as he lazily rubbed his aching dick up and down while his other hand struggled to keep a firm hold on his book.
He couldn't quite place why he had been feeling so pent up lately. Maybe it was his tendency to be a hermit inside his cabin, starting to get the better of him, or perhaps a deeper longing to have a connection with another. Whatever the reason was, as he blinked away his tears of budding pleasure from his eyes to better focus on the words, mentally painting a picture in his head and inserting himself in the process. Each slow drag of his hand up and down his dick made his breath catch in his throat as he reached the part where the woman in the novel began to suck off her lover.
'She winked at her lover coyly as she gently slid her hands down her abdomen, kissing her way down until she reached the zipper of his pants and steadily began to tug them down...'
"S-Shit..." A shaky groan left his lips as his heart thrummed against his ribcage even fiercer, chasing the lewd image in his head with a desperate fervor as he sped up his ministrations on himself, lewd slick noises beginning to emit from his twitching cock from the amount of pre-cum that dripped down from the tip. He spread his legs further apart, planting the balls of his feet more firmly against his bed as he started to thrust up into his hand with more purpose, his free hand reaching down to start caressing his balls.
'So pretty, my love...the woman spoke to her lover, placing an appreciative kiss against the underside of his cock before she began to gently take him into her mouth, hollowing out her cheeks as she took as much as she could into her mouth before wrapping her hands around the rest of his length.'
Elliot felt terrible about the image that began to creep into his mind.
You.
The new farmer who hadn't even been in Pelican Town for an entire week before they had already managed to embed themself into his mind! Elliot thought you were the sweetest being alive, someone who looked up at him with such innocence and kindness that it made his heart clench! Yet...as more moans left his lips, his needy thrusts up into his hand, making more and more pre-cum leave the slit of his cockhead as he chased after the blurry figure in his head, matching the pace as to what he thought the woman in his novel would take, until the figure slowly looked more and more like you. The mix of burning shame and undeniable pleasure made his mind spin as he, at first, quietly called out your name before it started to become bolder, louder.
"S-So good, my love—" He was glad that he had pulled the curtains on his window down, concealing his filthy actions.
His chest heaved up and down as his thrusts began to stutter in their pace, his toes curling and clenching the bedsheets as he tightened his grip on his balls as well as his cock, more praises towards the image of you in his head slipped from his lips. "Y/N...Y/N—!" His breath nearly choked up in his throat as he climbed closer and closer to his impending orgasm. As if he were suddenly under the influence of a spell, as the slick sounds of his hand moving up and down his cock echoed throughout the tiny space of his cabin, Elliot could have almost sworn that he could've imagined the way that you would've personally stroked his cock.
He imagined your soft hands slowly wrapping around the base of his dick, your plump lips kissing along the side of his sex with a particular focus on the prominent vein that ran up the side. Each imagination of your hand curling or clenching slightly around his cock made his dick jump in his grip, more breathless moans and shaky groans escaping his throat until he suddenly fucked up into his hand one last time before stilling completely. The sheer pleasurable relief of his orgasm nearly knocked the poor writer unconscious as the warmth of his hand spilled over his hand and onto his bare stomach.
Elliot sat still for a few more long moments before he relaxed against the bed with a deep sigh. Your sweet form lingered in his mind for a little while longer before disappearing from his mind, leaving nothing more than emptiness behind his eyes and the slow-rising feeling of guilt as Elliot opened his eyes to the emptiness of his room. He supposed...this may have been a better sign than anything else to take the time to step out from his cabin more often.
Even if it was in the hopes of being able to speak to you and see you more, rather than relying on his guilty wet dreams.
[In Relationship]
Oh, he's definitely willing to either masturbate in front of you or with you. (assuming you're comfortable with it, ofc)
However, although he fancies a bit of mutual masturbation from time to time, I feel like Elliot's the type to prefer outright fucking you rather than teasing and touching himself to you. After all...you're right in front of him!
However, if you tell him that you possess a kink for him touching himself in front of you. He's more than willing to do it as many times as necessary to keep you happy and satiated.
Breathless moans and quiet pleas for you to let him fuck you, and all.
So, hear me out on this thought, you're bold enough to admit the kink, and Elliot obliges in touching himself in front of you. However, the sight of you standing before him and gently rubbing your clit? It's wayyyyyy too irresistible, he just couldn't help himself any longer!
Sure, he'll touch himself to you, but he's not missing out on the opportunity to make you cum on his mouth either.
♡ - You released a soft moan as you looked down at Elliot. "So pretty..." leaving your lips almost in reverence at the sight before you. Elliot looked soooo good sitting neatly on his knees, stroking his cock while his eyes were practically glued to your bare, sopping wet pussy.
Elliot could almost taste you.
One single move of his head and he would've been able to stick his tongue right in between your folds, drinking in all of your essence like a man starved. But...he didn't, you had asked him so nicely to touch himself in front of you! Such sweet pleas practically made him a willing slave, eager and happy to fulfill any request you may have given him. Which is exactly how he ended up in this situation now, on his knees and looking up at you through his lashes, when he was capable of tearing his eyes away from your cunt that is.
And despite you being the one looking down on him. You were almost...jealous? Your cunt twitched and clenched around nothing as you watched a single slip of drool fall from the corner of his mouth, as if he were a starving dog being teased with a piece of steak. "Your pussy looks so delicious, my love." Elliot softly moaned, having to squeeze his cock to keep himself from cumming too early as he worshipped your pussy with his yearning eyes.
You blushed at the compliment, your grip on your skirt growing shakier as you began to struggle keeping it hitched up for Elliot's greedy gaze. The only thought that ran through your mind was how much you wanted Elliot to eat you out, to lick the trails of slick that leaked from your pussy and down the insides of your thighs clean. "You're leaking even more, dear." Elliot suddenly added on, his eyes looking up at you as he released his tightened grip on his dick to resume his ministrations once more. His eyes darkened with hazy lust. "What's going on in your head?" Slowly, he brought himself closer to you, resting the side of his cheek against your thigh, his moans growing even more breathless as he breathed in the scent of your heady sex.
"N-Nothing—Ahh..." You couldn't even complete your half-assed lie, especially when Elliot started to press kisses to your thigh, groaning at the softness of your plush thighs touching his lips. "N-Nothing!" You forced yourself to finish.
"...Really?" Elliot smirked against your skin. You flinched when he suddenly nipped at your skin lightly. "Your pussy is practically crying, my dear..." He whispered, one of his hands sneakily wrapping itself around the back of your thigh to pull you closer to his body. The feeling of his throbbing cock twitching against your leg made you want to clench your thighs together, your eyes widening ever so slightly when you felt Elliot begin to rub and hump your leg as if he were some beast in heat! Safe to say...you couldn't help the urge to try and bring a hand down to rub your aching clit, the hot throbbing feeling between your legs nearly driving you insane until—your lover suddenly grabbed your hand, frowning as if it had personally offended him.
"Don't." The word was a mix between pleasing and a command. His grip on your wrist tightened for a brief moment until he released you and brought his head closer to your pussy. Your hips bucked at the sight, Elliot quickly jerking his head back with a cocky smirk that looked absolutely sinful on his otherwise graceful and gentle features. "You're supposed to be watching me touch myself, my love. Just like you asked me to..." Your mouth unconsciously dropped a little at the whine in his voice. "That means... no touching yourself."
You couldn't help the frown that steadily crept onto your features. "What...?" You murmured incredulously. "Please—"
Elliot nipped at your thigh again as he slowly resumed rubbing himself against your leg. "Patience." He told you, a shaky groan escaping his throat as he began to feel his balls tighten. You were so horny that you felt as if you could've come untouched, the feeling of Elliot's hard cock dragging up and down your leg, leaving trails of his sticky pre-cum against your skin, making you nearly weep from how much you wanted to be touched! It was almost painful, the sheer amount of lust running throughout your veins making your mind nearly spin in a circle as your chest began to heave up and down at the dirty sight before you. Elliot's eyes were glued on you as he continued to leave marks and kisses on your thigh, chuckling every now and again when you tried to sweetly beg him again and again and again.
It was only when your hands had gently entangled themselves into his hair that he felt the last bits of his resolve crack like glass against concrete. "Elliot—" You pushily guided his head back in front of your cunt, your skirt now having fallen over your sex. However, with how much of your juices were dribbling down the insides of your thighs...your skirt was doing a poor job at concealing just how turned on you were, and just how much your body was craving his touch. "—Please..." You whispered. "I-I need it...your tongue, your fingers, anything—Fuck!" Your scream tore from your mouth suddenly when Elliot pushed his head to your covered pussy, throwing your head back as you felt your lover's tongue lick at your clit through your skirt.
The taste of you made his cock jump against his leg, his humping against your leg growing ever more fervent as he whispered dirty praises against your pussy. "My love..." Elliot murmured, his hand flicking up your skirt to reveal your bare pussy to his eyes again before he licked a long stripe starting from your clit and all the way back to your entrance.
You didn't even have time to gasp, much less moan, before Elliot wrapped his lips around your throbbing clit, practically stealing your breath away as he sucked the aching bundle of nerves. If it weren't for your grip on your lover's hair...as well as the way he kept his arm firmly wrapped around your thigh, you could've sworn that you would've fallen backwards and onto the floor! Your legs were so wobbly that you feared that you could've fallen any second, yet each time it seemed like you would...Elliot only tightened his hold on you even more while both pushing his head further into your cunt and sucking your clit even harder.
"E-Elliot—!" You whined out to the ceiling. "Feels so good...shit!"
He smirked against your pussy at your praises, the reverberating feeling of his groans as he sped up his rubbing against your leg, making the knot in the pit of your stomach get tighter and tighter until you were growing desperate for an orgasm. "Yoba..." Elliot managed to murmur in both awe and sheer desire when you began to rub your pussy against his face, taking a particular focus on rubbing your clit against the bridge of his nose as Elliot simply sat there and took all of what you had to give him.
Every little moan, every little whine, or how you gripped his hair a little too tightly. The way you both begged for him to drag his tongue through your folds harder, faster, while also forcing his head to keep still and endure your treatment of him!
Elliot could hardly get enough.
His hands gripped your thighs even tighter as you breathed out "C-Cumming...oh fuck...Elliot—" Your words were constantly interrupted by your moaning, the writer moaning desperately against your cunt as your grip on his hair tightened just a littleee bit more until...you climaxed against his face. Lewd slurping noises emitted from your pussy as Elliot groaned at the overflow of your taste on his tongue, his hips only managing a few more weak rubs against your leg before he stilled with a moan against your cunt as he felt ropes of his cum shoot from his cock, painting both the wooden floor as well as a little of your leg as his cock began to soften in time with him drinking in the last streams of your cum before parting from your pussy with a quick desperate intake of air.
With his grip on your legs now weakened, Elliot wasted no time gathering the rest of his strength to quickly guide your body to lie down on his bed behind you. A weak yet satisfied hum leaving your lips at the comforting feeling of your body hitting the cool sheet of your bed before you cracked your eyes open to look at Elliot through blurry vision, eyes still hazy with both pleasure and desire as Elliot wasted no time to lie in bed with you with a satisfied hum of his own.
For a while...he'd let you gather your strength and have a well-deserved break. But afterward...he believed that he's more than earned his reward of being able to fuck you.
Sebastian
[No Relationship]
Okay, so I had to think hard about this but— for shits n' giggles. I'm going to go with two possible options for a maidenless Sebastian.
If he's horny but not that horny, then he's definitely jerking it to a pretty video game character on his computer, OR good ol' fashioned hentai. I can see him being the type to search up something random on Twitter and jerking off to that, it doesn't have to be from his favorite anime or anything, just a pretty girl (or guy), and he's good to go.
The same applies to a video game character as well.
However, option two would only apply if he's super desperate and can't bear the feeling of his hand anymore, and wants something more.
How convenient that a freaky blonde and a good ol' misuse of the "bro code"/"dude it's not gay, we have our socks on" are right down the road from him.
A couple of blushing confessions later, along the lines of "It...it just doesn't feel the same anymore when I do it."
"I need something more, please help me."
"It's not gay so long as you just give me a handjob, man! Don't suck it!"
I read a BL once with this same premise, so this is mainly inspired by that
♡ - "Shit, Sebs...you really needed this, didn't you?" Sam murmured into his ear as he sat behind him, his lips nearly kissing the shell of the recluse's ear as his baby blues were intensely glued to how his best friend's dick practically cried for him.
But Sebastian couldn't help how his body reacted!
He couldn't help how shaky moans slipped from his kiss-swollen lips at the way Sam's palm repeatedly rolled over the head of his cock, in combination with the lewd feeling of Sam's dick twitching against his back. He desperately tried not to focus on how big it felt, how this entire scenario was so hot that it nearly brought him to tears. Not out of anything romantic, of course...just simply because of the feeling of pure relief.
His own hand just wasn't cutting it anymore, fucking his hand to lewd drawings of manga women or certain videogame characters. It was pathetic and it was driving him nuts, how one moment he'd be as hard as a rock, teetering on the line of orgasmic bliss before...it would all be swept away in a moment's notice. Leaving him blue-balled and almost too frustrated to go to sleep! And when he reached the point of beginning to consider Sam...he wasn't rushing to ask his friend to stroke his cock either.
For a while, he felt bad. Sam was his best friend. The one he grew up with, yet the more he thought about it...the more he couldn't get the idea of Sam stroking his dick, encouraging him to cum— "What are you thinkin' about?" The blonde suddenly said to him, snapping Sebastian out of his thoughts as he could almost hear the smirk that began to creep onto the blonde's lips. "N-Nothing!" Sebastian weakly hissed to him.
Sam pouted, gently tightening his grip around his friend's cock in response. The needy whine that left Sebastian's lips, making Sam bite his lips to suppress himself from cumming against his friend's back like some desperate virgin! "Clearly not," He said. "You're twitching even more, man!" Damn, he thought. He was beginning to wish that he had suggested that he and Sebastian had rubbed their cocks together instead. As much as he loved stroking his best friend's dick, watching his poor friend struggle between being noisy or keeping his mouth tightly sealed...the idea of his cum painting Sebastian's abdomen was becoming more and more appealing to him.
But...he couldn't suggest that.
Not when his friend had come to him asking for help just to get off! Nothing else.
And he'd do just that. "I-I'm not—Sammmm...!" The blonde smirked at the desperate cry of his name, causing him to speed up his ministrations even more as his smirk grew even more. "Fuckfuckfuck! W-Wait..." Sebastian interrupted himself with a moan, his hand shooting to grab at Sam's wrist, hardly making the blonde slow down much less pause in his actions as his thighs began to twitch in anticipation of his orgasm. "D-Don't—"
"Don't tell me you're about to cum already, Sebs." Sam teasingly mocked the recluse. "That's why you're so pent-up...this body's greedy for more than just one round, huh?" Sam laughed breathlessly in Sebastian's ear when he shook his head. His friend could lie as much as he wanted to, but he knew him, he knew from one glance...knew based on the way that Sebastian was talking to him about how he couldn't make himself cum to the sight of his little video game characters or manga characters anymore...he needed something new. Something to satiate his body that was only used to being pleasured for a few minutes before he'd cum once and turn over to go to sleep.
More than anything else, Sam was determined to provide that experience and get him addicted.
"S-Sam..." Sebastian threw his head back against the blonde's shoulder, a drawn-out groan dragging out of his chest as he began to buck his hips in tune with Sam's movements. Sam encouraged it, rewarding the recluse with speedier movements as the blonde began to rub himself against Sebastian's back. Something that Sebastian gasped at as he turned his head to look at his friend with a weak glare. "The hell...?" He murmured. "Don't rub yourself against me, that's—"
"Gay?" Sam finished for him with a roll of his eyes. For him personally, the blonde couldn't care less about what was 'gay' or 'straight'. All he knew was that the two of them were feeling good right now, his friend needed help cumming and he was determined to do just that. Sam then chuckled. "You're literally fucking my hand, man. I don't think there's room for that anymore, is there?"
"Y-Yes, there is!" He huffed. "I just needed help cumming, nothing else—mmHMPH?!" The blonde quickly shut his friend up by smashing his lips against Sebastian's. His friend's eyes widened to the size of the moon itself as Sam's hand suddenly sped up to a pace that his bucking hips couldn't keep up with, every moan and groan of his friend's name being drowned out by the lewd squelching noises and their kissing. The feeling of their tongues licking against one another...the minty taste of Sam's mouth and how he made his pleasure clear via groans and soft moans of Sebastian's name against his lips. Sebastian clenched the blonde's wrist even tighter as he felt his balls draw up even tighter, the pleasure growing so impossibly hot that he could've sworn he was burning alive before...the tightness in his balls, the knot inside the pit of his gut...it all burst at once.
"S-Sammm—!" Sebastian cried out into the blonde's mouth, Sam drinking up every moan and cry greedily as he continued stroking his friend through his explosive orgasm. The feeling of his hot cum spilling out onto his hand made Sam twitch even harder against his friend's backside as one eye cracked open to look at the mess he was responsible for.
Trails of Sebastian's orgasm had managed to make it onto his stomach and a little bit of his hoodie that was drawn up to reveal his chest and pert nipples. Weak ropes of cum still shooting out from his friend's cockhead until he felt his dick begin to soften in his hand. And yet...still, Sam didn't dare to stop; instead...he only kept the same pace. Fast and unforgiving, greedy even as he was desperate to see Sebastian cum again and again until he was satisfied. It was only when Sebastian began to whine from overstimulation did Sam took his lips from Sebastian's.
"S-Sam...!" Sebastian cried. "S-Sensitive—"
"Aww...sensitive?" Sam whispered, his free hand sliding up to grip Sebastian's chest, flicking his nipple and eliciting a jump from Sebastian's cock. "Just hold out, Sebs...it'll feel reaalllll good in a second." The confusion that began to swim around in Sebastian's eyes was cute, Sam thought. "F-Feels...weird...!" Sebastian groaned, Sam quickly wrapping his arm around Sebastian's torso to keep him locked in close to his chest as he made sure to keep looking over his friend's shoulder, working up his soft cock back to being hard again while pre-cum began to bead at the tip once more.
The lewd cries and moans made the blonde want to bully his friend even more...to make him cum so hard to the point that Sebastian either blacked out or became addicted to his hand. And Sam had little to no shame about the even dirtier thoughts that started to float around inside his head as his friend once again threw his head back onto his shoulder to let out another whorish moan. "Fuuckkk..." The blonde whispered.
He wanted to fuck him.
He wanted to pin his friend down onto his sheets soooooo badly, and fuck him to the point he became addicted to his cock. He could hardly believe that his friend was still tolerating him fisting his cock as he was! With the way Sebastian was clinging onto him like a lifeline, Sam imagined that the thought of allowing him to fuck him had crossed his mind maybe once or twice...but, he'd be patient and sit still.
After all, Sebastian had reached a point where fucking his own hand had become boring...he was certain that one day he'd come crawling back and bend himself over his bed, begging for the blonde to guide his thick dick inside his ass. "So cute, Sebastian, how does it feel being worked up to cum a second time?"
He was met with only needy groans and whines.
Cute, but...it wasn't an answer to his question.
And the moment that he slowed his hand down, Sebastian took a few long seconds to gather himself before looking back at Sam with the most adorable expression. Wide n' wet eyes and his mouth opening and closing like a gasping fish. "W-Why did you—"
The blonde rolled his eyes. "Stop?" Sam finished for him. "Answer my question, Sebs! It's rude not to answer someone...especially when they're taking care of such a needy cock." He resumed his ministrations once more, Sebastian immediately whining and bucking his hips back up as he both caused the pleasure as well as tried to escape the electrifying feeling. "S-Sam...!" He whined. "Feels weird...I-I can't—"
"You can." Sam urged, holding him tighter. He brought his lips up to Sebastian's ear, gently pressing his lips against the outer shell. "You've already come over my hand once...we're pretty much over any boundaries, right?" Sam whispered before his free hand reached to Sebastian's cock. Suddenly, he roughly gripped the base of his friend's cock before he rubbed the palm of his other hand over Sebastian's cockhead repeatedly. The blinding feeling left Sebastian screaming, shouts and moans of Sam's name echoing and bouncing off the walls and making Sebastian suddenly more thankful that Sam's family was out for a couple of hours, blinding hot tears beginning to cascade down his red cheeks as his hips weakly bucked up into Sam's palm, his pre-cum beginning to come out thinner and thinner...more water-like much to Sam's amusement as he continued to smirk and laugh against Sebastian's ear. "Fuuuckk..." He whispered. "Don't tell me you're about to squirt?" He teasingly said. "'Cause that's what girls do, man...my hand feels so good that you're willing to be all girly for me?"
Sebastian could only manage another weak moan before a sharp squirting sound pierced the air. Ropes and ropes of thin, watery cum shooting against Sam's palm before he tore his hand away to stare wide-eyed at the deliciously lewd sight as his friend's cum shot up and onto his chest, splattering his chest and stomach in his squirt.
Sam quickly gripped the base of his cock again, the burning feeling of blue-balling himself at such a dirty sight making him inwardly curse himself out...but, it was more than worth it as Sam gently guided Sebastian to quickly lay on his stomach, guiding his ass up for Sam to better rub himself against the crack of his friend's ass. "S-Sammm..." Sebastian drawled out tiredly.
"Sorry, Sebs...just-just lemme rub myself against your ass, please?" He begged.
Just something to get himself off...they could talk about letting Sam fuck him later when Sebastian was more coherent.
[In Relationship]
The first in the category of "Why would I masturbate? I have you."
Of course, he doesn't mind if you're not available, but if you were to ask him to masturbate in front of you? I feel like he wouldn't mind, but he'd definitely end it by saying, "Please let me cum in you...it feels better when I fuck my cum in you."
For funzies, however, let's say that he's entertaining you by masturbating in front of you.
He gets to that point where he's beginning to beg to cum inside of you instead of wasting his load either on his hand or a tissue paper.
You oblige him, kinda, by deciding to finish him off with your mouth. What a sweetie you are! But the catch? You're not stopping until you're tired.
Long story short? More overstimulation lol.
♡ - Sebastian was already more than used to overstimulation and having to hold himself back from an orgasm.
Previous...encounters had taught him more than enough as to how to have enough stamina to endure a partner who was keen on making him last through all of the dirty thoughts they had floating inside of their head. However, he hadn't realized how much of those skills would be coming in handy when he met you! Especially when you had asked him to masturbate in front of you. Such a lewd thing, admittedly, made Sebastian's cock jump inside of his pants, the poor man hardly waiting a second before he unbuckled his pants and sat on the bed, spreading his legs widely to make sure that he gave you a clear view as to what he was doing while you decided to pull up his chair from his workdesk to sit down in front of him.
His dick twitched at the expectant look in your gaze, your leg crossed over the other as you began to watch Sebastian slowly tease and stroke his twitching dick up and down...you could feel yourself clench around nothing at the sight, wanting nothing more than to get up and fuck yourself stupid on his cock or stroke him yourself. But...with how eagerly Sebastian obliged you on the idea, hardly uttering a word of confusion or wanting further clarification before he did as you asked.
Thus, you were adamant on not touching him at all until you were satisfied with what you were seeing. "Y' feel good Sebby?" You nearly purred as you watched with a growing smirk.
The recluse gulped heavily at how you sounded, beads of his pre-cum beginning to tip the slit of his cock as he slowly nodded his head. His hand felt good, sure, but...he swore that it felt even better than usual, all because you were watching him. Sebastian's eyes glossed over your figure, lingering on certain areas of your body such as your chest...your thighs and then finally— His eyes shot open wider when you readjusted your sitting position, revealing the fact that...you weren't wearing anything underneath. "Y-Y/N..." He murmured.
"You're not—"
You giggled. "Aren't you supposed to be busier showing me how you fuck your hand?" You asked with a tilt of your head. "Rather than staring at how I didn't wear any panties..." You opened your legs a little wider, only for a split second before snapping them back closed.
But Sebastian committed that brief flash of your pussy to memory, right alongside the many other times you’ve both shared together as he stared at your now hidden sex, practically eye-fucking you as if he were trapped under a spell. “You’re soooo not good with hiding where you’re looking, Sebby.”
His already flushed face grew, reaching the tips of his ears as he briefly looked back at you. “C-Can’t help it…” He murmured. “Wanna fuck you…sosososo bad…c-can I—“
"No." It was stern and left no room for debate. "You can hold back for me, right? You've barely been touching yourself for a few minutes!" Your lover pouted at your words, yet the way his cock throbbed told him and you just how much he was enjoying all of this. So he bit back his complaints and stroked his cock even harder, the slick sounds that began to emit from his cock as he used his pre-cum as lubrication, making more of your juices start to drip from your pussy and onto the chair you sat on as you watched Sebastian begin to struggle with continuing to please himself while you sat only a mere few inches away from him!
"Can...can I touch you?"
You chuckled, almost wickedly, as you watched him begin to struggle. "No." You tsked.
Sebastian pouted as he fisted his cock even harder, the torture of not being able to stick his cock in you...or at least touch you in some way, shape, or form, making it harder for him to find his release. "P-Please—!" You laughed in his face as you once again began to teasingly flash your pussy, the sight of your dripping cunt and all your juices that had dripped down to form a small pool...a deep groan left his lips at the sight.
And yet, still he just couldn't cum. He needed you. He needed you so badly that it was painful, especially with how every vein and nerve ending in his body practically screamed for his orgasm. "Please...please, touch me—" Sebastian sniffled as he stared at you. "—I-I can't...I can't—" Without a word, you got up and walked over to him, the sight of Sebastian staring up at you as if you were the only answer to all of his problems, making you nearly want to laugh at the irony of it all! When you had asked him to touch himself in front of you, he was confident and eager to do as you requested, but...the sight of him nearly crying, begging for a single graze of your finger against his cheek or your hand placing itself anywhere on his body. It pulled at your heartstrings just enough for you to gently slap his hand away from his cock and take over yourself. "O-Oh Yoba—!" Sebastian practically squeaked as he threw his head back to let out a whimper mixed with a moan. "Please don't stop..." He pleaded. "So fucking good...!" He continued to praise.
You moved your hand up and down in a steady movement for only a few strokes as you slowly sank down to your knees, your mouth beginning to water as you eyed the droplets of Sebastian's pre-cum more closely. He throbbed in your touch, his cockhead a deep shade of angry red as he unconsiously bucked his hands up into your touch seemingly every few seconds, chasing after his high as he called out your name like a broken record. After he had begged so desperately for your touch, you couldn't—wouldn't just let him finish by giving him a quick handjob. Thus, you hardly waited a second longer before you had suddenly taken Sebastian's tip into your mouth, the shocking feeling of your soft tongue beginning to lick at his slit making Sebastian shoot his head back to look at you with wide, wet eyes.
"Y-Y/N!?" He gasped. "W-What are you—oooh..."
Your only answer to him was a chuckle that reverberated his cock a little, your eyes looking up at him through your lashes as you bobbed your head up and down, stroking the rest of him that didn't fit inside your mouth. "Oh fuck...please keep doing that—f-fuck!" Sebastian was humping his hips into your mouth, chasing the mind-numbing stimulation as you began to suck Sebastian off harder in return as he started to gain a 'fucked-dumb' grin on his face, his pre-cum beginning to come out fatter and more frequently as he neared his orgasm. "Please don't stop...!" He whined to the ceiling. You rewarded his begging with moans, the feeling going straight to his balls as he let his head fall back onto the bed. As much as he wanted to look at you sucking him off, see how your pretty eyes watered with how much he was bucking his hips, he couldn't keep his head up anymore! He screwed his eyes shut, needy moans leaving his lips as he let you work him up to his quickly approaching high.
"O-Ohhh...." His moan was high-pitched, whinier, a brief warning sign that he was cumming. "C-Crap...I feel it coming..." His balls began to tighten, the warmth and tightness in his belly getting hotter and tighter all at the same time as his face screwed up in pleasure. You planted your hands on his thighs, bracing yourself as you took him alllll the way down to his base. "Fuck—!" Was the last word that managed to break through his lips before a shaky, drawn-out whine mixed with a groan left his lips. The salty taste of his cum flooded your mouth, rope after rope painting the insides of your mouth white as Sebastian's hips stilled against your mouth.
You slowed the movements of your head, eased up on your sucking as you continued to pleasure your lover through his mind-numbing high, his adorable whines urging you on and on and on. Until Sebastian began to whine from overstimulation. "B-Baby—fuck..." He groaned. His groans quickly turned into overstimulated whines and gasps, each sound being pulled from his lips more and more often as you resumed your earlier harsh sucks and mean strokes of his cock as you giggled to yourself at your lover's cute noises, and the way that he slowly looked back to you with an intensely flushed face.
"B-Baby...w-what are you—nnnhgh..."
You smirked at the sound of his moan, keeping up your pace before you took your mouth from his cock with a lewd 'pop', switching over to meanly rubbing your palm over his too-sensitive cockhead. His hips jerked further back into the bed, attempting to escape your hands as he pulled his lip between his teeth as you worked him through his overstimulation. "Fuck!" He cried out as he twitched against the sheets, his thighs threatening to clench tightly around you if it weren't for your body blocking the way, anything to escape the almost unbearable pleasure. "C'mon Sebby...gimme another one." You spoke with an alluring purr to your voice.
You clenched around nothing at the sound of his cries, the way he gripped the sheets to the point of almost tearing them. You could've almost sworn that you saw tears forming in his eyes when he briefly looked at you, uttering a weak 'Too much...i-it's too much!' before shutting them tightly once more, his jaw falling slack to let out breathless cries and moans.
'Ahh...he looks so cute like this.' You thought.
And you didn't plan to stop until you were completely satisfied.
Sam
[No Relationship]
Low-key porn addict
I feel like Sam's definitely into amateur porn. No magazines, no books, or anything. The professional stuff probably wouldn't be enough to get him off or even get him going to begin with, seeing as it'll look too staged.
For funzies, I'll say that he's also not going to watch porn on a computer. He's a phone-only type of guy, seeing as it's quick and simple to pull out and put away.
However, let's say that Sam already knows you and has seen you. All of a sudden, his porn is whatever random hot chick/guy he settles on for the time being. Now, all the videos he watches conveniently have someone who looks like you and sounds like you.
Unnecessary origin to the pet play kink but one day Sam sees a porn where someone's being leashed and collared like a dog and made to fuck the person in question. It was only a bonus that the person looked like you! Since that day? He couldn't get the idea of you treating him like a misbehaving dog that just wouldn't listen out of his head.
And to add on? Rather than lying on his back and fisting himself like he usually does...he has a newfound love for fucking his pillow while staring intently at the porn he's watching.
♡ - He should’ve tried this a long time ago.
Desperate grunts and moans escaped through his clenched teeth as he rutted into his pillow, eyes fiercely glued to the scene that played on his phone. A woman being dicked down into the sheets of the bed as she shakily held onto a leash attached to the collar that the man behind her wore.
At first, Sam simply watched it out of curiosity.
After scrolling through porn video after porn video, nothing seemed to do it for him anymore!
Either he had already seen it, had seen a concept similar to it, or it simply looked boring. Thus, it sparked him to look for more...unique options, leading him down a rabbit hole that eventually landed him to a selection of videos labeled underneath the 'Pet-Play' tag. Particularly in the section where people were being collared and leashed, referred to as either a mutt or a good boy or bad boy! Sam thought that when he pressed play on a video, he would feel...weirder about watching people essentially being treated like nothing more than animals.
But as his cock twitched to life at the video, pitching a tent in his boxers as a small dark dot began to appear at the front. His eyes were glued to how the man in the video practically drooled over the woman as he fucked her to the point of breathlessness. Sam had no shame when he repositioned himself to mimic the way the man in the video was fucking the woman as he bunched his pillow together, forming a tight 'hole' for him to rut into as he continued to stare intensely at his phone.
A deep moan left the blonde's lips when the man pulled out all of a sudden from the woman. He hadn't cum just yet, but the sight of the woman's pussy clenching around nothing, begging for a cock to fill her again, as her slick dripped from her hole as she spread her legs wider. Sam felt his face warm even more as he increased the pace of his thrusts into his pillow, a low whine leaving his lips. "P-Please..." The woman begged as if she weren't the one holding the leash. "W-Why'd you stop—Haaahh!" The sound of her sharp cry of pleasure when the man suddenly thrust into her pussy once more, the sudden invasion causing her to clench around her man's cock as he groaned at how tight she became all of a sudden.
"So naughty..." The man lightly reprimanded the woman as he bent down to whisper into the woman's ear. "Aren't you supposed to be in control, master?" He continued. "What's the point of holding onto a leash if you can't even control the dog at the end of it?" Sam practically drank up every single word as he fucked his pillow even harder, shudders going up and down his spine as he became more unabashed with his moans, the porn video slowly becoming second place in his mind as he screwed his eyes shut, imagining a completely different scenario in the depths of his mind.
He thought of the pretty farmer who had moved in not too long ago. How friendly you were to him and how you always laughed at his jokes...you were so physically affectionate too, the remembrance of your soft hands against his face or how you'd pet his head in praise...how your tits felt up against his chest when you hugged him. He could hardly contain the quiet mutters of your name. "Y/N..." Sam breathed out as he clenched his pillow even harder to his chest, trying desperately to imagine the pillow as your body, although he just knew that it was a poor imitation. He could at least appreciate the fact that the woman sounded somewhat like you, each breathless praise of hers, how she referred to the man as a mixture between 'bad boy!' or 'good boy!', making Sam pant even harder as he whined at the idea of you being the one praising him instead.
He sucked in a sharp inhale through his teeth as he felt himself teeter on the line of his orgasm. "F-Fuck..." He groaned against the pillow. "Y-Y/N—Shiiittt....!" His moans steadily became more broken as he attempted to time his thrusts and pace to how the woman sounded in the video, her cries and high-pitched whine becoming more frequent as she neared her own orgasm.
The blonde whispered a murmured 'Fuckfuckfuck' before he shot his cum into the pillow with a choked-up moan, just in time with the woman in the video as Sam slowly continued to fuck the pillow through his orgasm, his mind foggy with the idea of your slick cum coating his cock as you looked up at him with as much lovesickness as he would look at you.
After tonight...he was definitely going to try and talk to you more.
[In Relationship]
Also sharing the boat of "Why would I masturbate? I have you." with Sebastian.
As much as I wanna entertain the idea of him indulging you if you were to ask him to touch himself in front of you. He just wouldn't! He likes cumming inside of you, on you, anywhere but his own hand now that he's in a relationship with you!
But, for shits n' giggles and the purpose of this post, let's just say that he's indulged you once.
You made the mistake of obliging him and lying underneath him as he fucks his own hand. All as he whispers the filthiest things to you without a lick of shame!
"Sosososo pretty babe...fuck—I just wanna cum inside you."
"I didn't know you were so filthy...you like seeing me fist my own cock? Don't worry, I don't mind~ you can look aaallllll you want, babe."
You're so focused on how pretty his blue eyes look as they darken with lust that you don't even notice Sam getting closer, and closer, and closer.
All until your legs are suddenly being thrown over his shoulders, and your panties are shifted over to the side. Sam hoped you wouldn't be mad at him for fucking you like a rabid dog for a little while...you shouldn't have asked him to practically tease himself while you were lying so prettily in front of him!
♡ - You didn't know what was dirtier. Sam fucking his own hand on a chair while you sat on the bed or...what he was doing now, straddling your hips while he used your own hand to stroke his cock, lewd moans and groans leaving his lips, swollen from how hard he was biting them earlier in an attempt to suppress his own moans.
However...for Sam, it was alllll apart of his plan.
He didn't know what you had seen or heard that made you so interested all of a sudden in seeing him masturbate! Of course, he didn't mind the idea of putting on a show for you, thinking that he was going to be able to fuck your cute pussy in the end, but...the moment he had made a move, he was quickly stopped by your hand on his chest before you stubbornly told him— "No! I want to watch!"
That was the only moment, since meeting you, that Sam regretted letting you have your way. He felt like some pussy-whipped virgin, straddling your hips while using your hand to stroke his cock, all while he silently yearned for the moment that you grew tired of this and just let him stick his dick inside of you already! However...no matter how stubbornly you tried to hide your desires, Sam knew you like the back of his own hand.
He felt how you tried to keep your thighs from clenching together.
How your chest moved up and down more slowly, your breaths uneven as you tried to keep yourself from letting a moan accidentally slip out. How your hands gently rubbed up and down Sam's thighs, squeezing every now and again as a silent plea for him to go ahead and fuck the brains out of you. He wanted to do that soooo badly, but...you were stubborn. Thankfully, though, he knew how to deal with and work his way around your stubborn nature. "You're touchin' me so much, baby..." Sam cheekily smirked at you as he slowly stroked his cock, gripping his base every so often to keep himself from cumming too early with how adorable you looked under him.
Your face was flushed, and your mouth was slightly agape. A tiny sliver of spit dribbling from the corner of your lips as if you were looking at a piece of steak. Sam's own face reddened in turn, his pupils threatening to take over the blues of his irises with how much love bloomed in his heart at your desperate features. "C'mon...don't you want to do something more fun than watching me touch myself? I'm right here~"
Your thighs clenched even tighter together at your lover's tone. Whiny and begging.
It would've been so easy to just give in...to be folded over, and Sam fuck you, had and fast just like you wanted him to! But, you had asked for this, for Sam to show you how he touched himself. You just hadn't realized that watching him would be this arousing. "Stop...trying to tease me," You murmured with a mock, annoyed grumble.
Sam scoffed. "So you can mess with me, but I can't mess with you?" Suddenly, Sam leaned forward slightly to place his hand on your stomach. That brief touch made your breath catch in your throat as Sam slowly rubbed his hand over your stomach before inching ever closer to your breasts. Had you told him to stop and get back to touching himself, even if it came with an annoyed huff or two, he would've done so immediately and allowed the game to be dragged out even further! But...you didn't, you watched as Sam slowly got closer and closer to you until you could feel his soft breath touch your face. All before a quiet moan escaped your lips when his hands cupped one of your tits. "...That's not fair—ahhh..."
"Not fair?" The blonde smirked at your attempt to pause his movements when you grabbed onto his wrist, your hand hardly doing anything as he began to flick your nipple. "How come you get to ask me to touch myself, but I can't touch you, huh?" Your lips formed into a thin line, trying to keep in your moans and whines as Sam slowly forgoed the act of touching himself and moved onto to touching you. His hands pushed your shirt up and over your tits, revealing them to his eyes before he wrapped his lips around one of your nipples. "S-Sam!" You gasped, your hand flying to entangle itself in his hair while your other gripped the bedsheets. A deep moan reverberated from your nipple, further hardening it in combination with how his tongue lapped at your nipple like a man begging for the tiniest amount of water, his hips grinding against your still-covered sex as nothing seemed to tear him away from the fact that he was finally able to touch you.
He touched himself occasionally, but...it was only when you were completely unavailable to him! Every drop of his cum, every gasp or moan that left his mouth was reserved for you and you alone. He swore that he was a willing dog for you, something that showed in his eyes as Sam looked at you through his blonde lashes, the sheer amount of need conveyed in his gaze making your thighs twitch as you began to wish for something to fill you. "Sam..." You panted. "P-Please—"
Sam released your nipples from his mouth with a lewd 'pop'. "P-Please?" He mocked you as he began to massage your breasts. "You were going to make me touch myself until I came all over your stomach!" He pouted. "Just endure a little longer for me, babe...I wanna play with you some more—"
"Sam." You said, mustering up all of your strength to put a little more edge to your tone. Something that Sam listened to as he pouted even more at the sound, but nonetheless paused in his movements. "Please..." You begged again before you started to buck your hips up against Sam's cock. The feeling of your heat tore a groan from his lips, his cock twitching in response to your grinding. While he would've made you beg a little bit longer, he wouldn't deny it to himself that he was aching for you. A little bit longer of your touching, and he was certain that he would've cum. "Touch me, please—" Your words were stolen from you as Sam suddenly pressed his lips to your own, maneuvering your legs up and over his shoulders while he slid your shorts and panties off juusstt enough to reveal your sopping cunt to his hungry gaze.
Had the two of you not been so desperate to have one another, he would've dived down to have a taste. But— "Shit..." He whispered. "I barely have to do anything, babe. You're fucking soaked." You gasped softly when Sam suddenly pressed his thumb to your aching nub, your cunt clenching around nothing as more of your slick poured out from your entrance, eager to have something fill it. "With how much you were ordering me around earlier...you'd think that you'd have a little more control over this cute pussy of yours."
Just as your eyes were slowly closing in response to Sam's otherwise gentle pressing to your clit, your eyes snapped open when he suddenly pinched it for a brief moment. The pain mixed in with pleasure as the blonde began to gently tease his cock against your entrance. "Sam...you're so di—" "Yeah, yeah..." He murmured. "Call me dirty all you like, don't pretend that you don't like this." You hardly had a chance to give him a response before he slowly sank his cockhead into your cunt, Sam's loud groan overtaking yours as his face seemed to burn an even brighter red at the action.
Your hands flew back down to his thighs, trying to slow him down in his eagerness to fill you completely up with his cock, but to no avail. The man was completely drunk off of your cunt, despite not even having moved yet! The feeling of his cock pressing against your walls, teasing and prodding at seemingly every single squishy pleasure point inside of you...it drove you insane as your eyes threatened to roll to the back of your head, much to Sam's amusement as he took in every single twitch of your face, how your eyes threatened to roll to the back of your head and even how your mouth gently began to fall open in response to his cock sinking deeper inside of you.
"So fucking tight..." Sam murmured. "L-Loosen up for me, babe—" He bit his bottom lip, trying to stifle his orgasm that threatened to bubble to the surface until...finally, he was balls-deep inside of you. Although this wasn't the first time the two of you had fucked, the blonde could never get enough of your cunt, much less how you acted when you had dick inside of you. He was looking forward to all the lewd things you would say to him.
"F-Feels so good..." You quietly panted out as Sam leaned forward to press an appreciative kiss to your lips and cheek. A last, final sweet act until he began fucking you like he hated you. "...Yeah?" He murmured. Your body jolted a little when he suddenly thrust inside of you, gently testing the waters a couple of times until breathless moans began leaving you. His cock throbbed in response to your noises, eliciting more gasps from your breath as your hands once again moved, this time from the top of his thighs to his shoulders as Sam steadily picked up a faster pace.
Lewd, needy moans left both of you in tandem, creating a dirty symphony as both of you became lost in the growing pleasure and echoed out your desires to the ceiling. And, until he was absolutely wrung dry, Sam planned to fulfill each and every last one of your desires and make you forget allll about asking him to touch himself in front of you again.
Alex
[No Relationship]
Okay, so weirdly enough— I can't see Alex really masturbating to porn? In terms of computers, phones, books etc. In some aspects, he's an old soul and prefers to masturbate to magazines, and that's if he really can't find anyone because, quite frankly, he'd prefer to have sex rather than rub one out.
But, for now, let's say he doesn't have a choice, but he does know you.
He's tossing out the magazines immediately and is purely using his imagination. Or, in a totally perverted moment, I can see Alex probably rubbing himself over his pants while the two of you are sitting at a table chatting.
The movement of your lips, the rise and fall of your chest, or even the memory of you when you walked in front of him earlier! To be honest, he wasn't even listening to you as you talked on about your day and what you were planning to do for your farm.
All he could think about was what you'd look like underneath him, how you'd moan, or if you'd be eager to take his cock or a little shy.
All in all— Alex would prefer to have sex rather than masturbate, thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.
♡ - This was pathetic.
Rather than fucking some random person that he had met off the internet...he'd much rather be fucking you. The lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin, the burning feeling of pleasure that lingered about on his skin as rough grunts and groans echoed throughout the cheap hotel room that the two of them decided to rent out in ZuZu city for the night. Alex's arms were tightly wrapped around the stranger's torso, his feet planted firmly into the cheap mattress as he fucked up into the stranger with a purpose.
A purpose to convince himself that he was fucking you rather than someone who didn't even act anything like you! The person he had met...while there wasn't anything badly wrong with them...they weren't you. You were shy and adorable. You lit up the room wherever you went, it seemed, and had a knack for making his chest tighten each time you were in the same general vicinity as him! Sure, he could've masturbated at home and been more satisfied than he was now, but...he wasn't some desperate teenager anymore.
Alex preferred to fuck.
And this one-night stand was a temporary reprieve. Just until he was finally able to sleep with you, touch you, and make you feel good— "Ahhh..." Alex released a groan at the idea of how you'd look and sound like in response to his touches. Something that the person currently being fucked within' an inch of their life believed was for them. "Y-You okay, babe?" They whispered as they slowly looked down at Alex, cupping his face with their hands as they tried to match the athlete's pace.
An impossible thing to do, only proven more so as Alex only offered his one-night stand a half-assed smirk before somehow managing to thrust up into the stranger's greedy hole even harder. The cry that escaped their throat was delicious, a noise that made Alex groan in return as he threw his head back against the headboard of the bed, chasing after his orgasm as well as trying to further satisfy the imagination that played out inside of his head. "Fuck...Y/N—" He groaned without a lick of shame or care if his partner heard him.
Not that he assumed they would, of course. When Alex cracked open an eye to check the state of his one-night stand, their head was thrown back, eyes shut tightly as moan after moan left their lips and their grip on Alex's shoulders increasingly grew tighter as the brunette felt them clench harder and harder around his cock. "You close, babe?" Alex whispered as he went back to closing his eyes, speaking more to the image inside his head rather than the person riding his dick.
Inside his mind, you nodded your head dumbly as you tried to bring your hips down onto his dick, once again attempting to match his unforgiving pace as you chased after your orgasm alongside him. "Alex—" The memory of your voice, as well as the imagination of how choked-up it would be in this moment, bounced around inside his head as Alex felt himself getting closer and closer to his orgasm, his pace changing from harsh and unforgiving to deeper and harder strokes, each thrust accentuated with a grunt as more whispers and moans escaped his lips.
This was pathetic of him, he thought to himself.
It would've been better to have asked you directly if you wanted to fuck him. Or...better yet, he should have been bolder to simply express that he liked you from the start. Flowers, dates, a shy peck on the cheek, and all sorts of romantic stuff like that. "Fuuuckkk...!" He moaned at the top of his lungs before he suddenly stilled against his one-night stand, ropes and ropes of his hot cum flooding their sex while Alex continued to imagine your face inside of his head.
He imagined how you'd throw your head back when you reached your orgasm, how you'd probably kiss him and maybe, just maybe, beg him for another round. Something that he would've eagerly given you, time and time again, until you were left shaking and his cum pouring out from every hole you had on your body.
Alex hardly even noticed that his one-night stand had finished on top of him, their face tucked into the side of his neck as they continued to grip onto him as if he were a lifeline. An annoyed tsk left his lips as he forced himself to bear through continuing to hold them through their post-orgasm bliss, even going so far as to rub light circles into the small of their back to further throw them off the idea that he may have been thinking about someone else rather than being in the moment.
At least he could consider this practice for when he finally got to fuck you.
[In Relationship]
Lol, good luck trying to convince him to masturbate now that he's in a relationship with you. Although he's definitely going to masturbate from time to time, I can't see him being the type to masturbate in front of you?
Not because it's embarrassing for him, I think he'd care less tbh. But, it's more so him not seeing the reaosn. Why masturbate and tease himself with the idea of touching you when you're right there? The two of you could just fuck right now rather than play around!
And even if you're not available, I'm standing ten toes down and putting him in the category of "Not touching myself until they come back, I can wait".
But let's say you're mentioning it to him a lot. He'll eventually cave, but in his own way, he's not touching himself, but he will make you touch yourself to him while you're sucking him off.
Technically, it counts! After all, he's masturbated a ton of times to the idea of someone sucking him off so you doing it is just fulfilling an old wet dream of his ✨
♡ - "Cmon, babe...if you keep going as slow as you are, then I may just re-think about fucking you as a reward..."
The threat made your thighs threaten to clench together as you bobbed your head up and down Alex's cock. Your pussy practically leaking its juices to create a small pool beneath you as you let the words settle into your mind as encouragement to speed up your ministrations. It was almost confusing to you as to how things turned out this way. What first started out as you asking Alex to touch himself in front of you has now devolved into you touching him!
Although....you figured that things would have turned out this way, one way or another.
When you had asked Alex to touch himself in front of you, he had looked at you as if you had suddenly grown an extra pair of heads before asking you why! Even when you stated that you wanted to "try something new", he still didn't budge. Alex only responded to you via brushing you off with a scoff and going back to doing what he was doing! Thus...it started your journey of trying to slowly work him up to the idea, although it wasn't crucial in the slightest for you to know what Alex looked like when he touched himself...you still wanted to know.
Ever since you began having sex with him, the fleeting thoughts of Alex appearing more embarrassed when he touched himself, blushing and whispering your name like it was a sacred prayer...it made your face warm and your sex ache. Only...one night, you had pushed too far, which happened to be tonight.
You and Alex had been making out on his bed, his grandparents out for the night in order to enjoy some time together at the saloon! When Alex had invited you over for another night of fun, you would've been more embarrassed at how fast you came over if you and the brunette hadn't been seeing each other for a while now! Not close to dating status, but...not too far off from it either. The kissing slowly grew more heated, hands beginning to wander boldly and linger just a little bit longer in certain places before you eventually found yourself straddling Alex while he lay flushed underneath you, quietly panting and yet nearly yearning for more of your touch.
That's when— "Hey." A shocked 'mmph!' noise escaped your lips when Alex suddenly pushed down on your head a little, snapping you out of your thoughts with a click of his tongue before your eyes darted back to looking up at him through your lashes. "What're you getting distracted about?" He asked. "You should be focused on trying to make it up to me for thinkin' it was a good idea to try and blue-ball me."
You moved your head up and down a few more times before you slowly slipped your lips from around his dick, continuing to stroke him off with your hand as you leaned your cheek against the side of his glistening cock, wet with a mixture of your spit and pre-cum. Alex immediately tuned you out the second you began speaking, only offering you rolls of his eyes here and there to indicate that he was somewhat listening to your excuses. The two of you were fuck-buddies, hardly close to dating status, and as much as he'd been wanting to fuck you since the day the two of you had started speaking to one another...the last thing he was going to do was masturbate in front of you. He'd find the idea hotter if it were you doing it in front of him! No matter how cute you were when you tried to ask him about it, you were so pushy about it that it made his jaw tighten in annoyance at the very memory of it.
Slowly, Alex's hand came to entangle itself in your hair, almost as if he were about to run his fingers through your hair before he suddenly grabbed it. Pulling it ever so slightly to guide your moving mouth back to his cock. "Make excuses all you want, you're not getting out of this—" Were his last words before shoving your head back down over his cock, the feeling of your throat suddenly constricting around his cock at you coughed, making him let out a shaky moan before he started to guide your movements.
Your hands quickly braced themselves on his thighs, the combination of the sting of your hair being pulled and the sound of Alex slowly losing himself as he took your throat, making your mind foggy while you could feel your clit begin to ache.
The slick sounds of your mouth moving along the length of the brunette's cock went straight to your clenching sex, your hole eager for something, anything to fill it, even if it was a temporary reprieve just to keep you from going insane with want! However...the second you attempted to move your hand, Alex interrupted your attempt to move with a forceful thrust up into your mouth before he grumbled a deep "Don't you fucking dare."
The glimpse of you trying to sneakily move your hand was so pathetic that he could've almost laughed! "Dirty girl..." Alex murmured as he slowly let his head hang back, thrusting up into your mouth more languidly as he indulged in how your mouth felt around his cock. "Trying to touch that needy clit of yours? S-Should've—Fuck...t-thought about that before you tried goin' around and teasing me." He continued, the sound of his moaning making you whine around his dick, the feeling and sound of your noise making him twitch inside your gushy mouth before he slowly looked back at you.
Your eyes threatened to roll to the back of your head. Spit dribbling down from the corner of your mouth as you did your best to breathe through your nose and keep yourself from touching yourself. The sight was absolutely mouth-watering to Alex as he felt his balls draw up closer to his body, his cock twitching even more as he felt his orgasm begin to approach. "S-Shiiittt..." Alex whispered as he stared into your watery eyes, burning with blatant eagerness to make him cum as you began to suck even harder, as if you were trying to drain all the cum from his balls. The feeling made his thighs shake, his grip on your hair getting weaker and in turn...allowing you more room to move as you gently popped your mouth out from around him and began to use both of your hands to finish him off.
He almost had a mind to complain, that is...until he saw how you stuck out your pretty pink tongue from under him, your mouth hanging wide open as you practically begged and whimpered for his cum to shoot inside of your mouth.
"Fuck baby...keep looking at me like that..." Alex whispered as he began to pet your head. "So cute...sososo pretty, lookin' at me like that while I cum—" His voice cracked at the end when the first rope of cum suddenly shot out from his cock, curses intertwined with drawn out moans as his hips bucked into your hands as you continued to stroke him through his high. Ropes of his cum either land on your tongue or somewhere on your face as you could've sworn that you would've been able to cum untouched...that is, if it weren't for the fact that you wanted Alex's dick inside of you being the reason rather than you just being that needy to cum yourself.
Alex softly pressed his foot against your stomach to gently push you back when you began to overstimulate him. "Y-Yoba..." He whispered. After making him cum like that...he definitely thought that you deserved a reward, an orgasm, two or more of your own to show you just how much better to just let him fuck you rather than ask for a silly request such as him touching himself in front of you!
Shane
[No Relationship]
Ngl, I feel like he'd low-key be a chronic masturbator.
Although I like to think that Shane gets around ('cause who doesn't like a tired middle-aged man?). When he's not getting play and is in his drunk feelings, I feel like drunk masturbating is a pretty common thing for him, assuming the two of you don't know one another yet. Shane would probably think of Emily for a brief moment.
I'll go ahead and say that Shane would probably feel guilty for a little while since Emily is really nice to him and is his only friend in the entire town, but that only makes the urges stronger.
She's nice, she's pretty, and she looks at him as if he's not just another drunk and wants him to be better!
One lonely drunk night in his room and an hour of realizing that. That realization is enough to get his cock hard and his hand already moving to jerk himself off to the idea.
♡ - A deep groan quietly echoed throughout the darkness of his room. Eyes screwed tightly as he sat on the cold wooden floor with his back pressed against the side of his bed, his hand gently rolling over his cockhead repeatedly as he slowly worked himself up to the image that he had inside of his head.
Shane was the town drunk, the screw-up, as well as the one who'd be nothing more than a burden to not only his auntie but a complete waste on the town as well. Someone who was destined to work at JojaMart until the day he grew too old or the day he kicked the bucket via his constant drinking. And yet...despite his sad life, there had to have been someone—not Yoba, maybe—but someone who was still looking out for him.
After all...he had Emily.
The cute blue-nette who worked at the saloon was practically a walking beam of sunshine. No matter what type of mood he was in...Emily always had patience for Shane, willing to be a listening ear to him while also providing him that kindness that he seemed to be unable to get anywhere else in this town. She always smelled good, had a quirky yet adorable sense of style...a shuddery groan escaped Shane's lips when her face flashed through his head, his hips weakly bucking up into his hand at the thought of her, what she would do to him.
He didn't mean to masturbate about his friend...really.
But as Shane continued to work his cock, whispering Emily's name under his breath as if even he were ashamed of what he was doing. The more he thought about what Emily may have been wearing underneath her clothes...what she sounded like when she moaned, or how she'd look at him while she was being fucked into the sheets. Shane couldn't help the way that his cock oozed out even more pre-cum, more slick sounds coming from his cock as he used the pre-cum to act as lubricant to help him move his hand up and down even faster.
"E-Emily..." He whispered breathlessly as he let his head fall back against the bed. He tried to ignore the heavy smell of alcohol, not just in his room but upon his breath as he focused more intensely on the image inside his head, trying to replace it with the memory of Emily's floral perfume as his thighs twitched at the idea of Emily being the one who was rubbing his cock right now, even slipping his cockhead into her mouth before she'd slowly bob her head up and down as if she were trying to put on a show.
And when she wasn't throating his dick all the way to the base?
She was speaking to him gently, the combination of the former and latter thoughts doing wonders for Shane's slowly budding orgasm as more broken moans and pleas escaped from his chapped lips. "Fuckfuckfuckfuck—" He cried out as he groaned at the thought of Emily slipping her mouth from around his cock, licking her tongue over her lips before slowly turning around to expose her wet pussy for his gaze, begging him to go ahead and fuck her to which—of course, Shane obliged as his hand movements sped up to match the pace he was setting inside his head.
Gentle and careful, briefly at first before turning fast and rough as Shane suddenly leaned over himself, threatening to hump the damn floor with how good he was feeling! His heart thrummed inside of his chest, every nerve in his body seemingly alight with desire and lust as he thought more about Emily.
Emily. Emily. Emily.
The thought was almost too much to bear before..Shane had suddenly cummed, embarrassingly quickly in fact, as his cum suddenly shot out onto the floor in thick jets. The sheer force of his orgasm nearly stole away all the breath in his lungs as he gasped, taking in large inhales with every breath as he let the drunken haze mix in with the euphoric high of his recent climax. Had he not been aware that he had come on the floor...he would've fallen asleep on the floor right then and there, tired and eager to escape the slowly approaching feeling of guilt.
There was no way that he could look at Emily the same again for a long while...not until he got rid of those thoughts inside his head about bending her over the saloon counter.
[In Relationship]
The moment he's in a relationship with someone (you). I genuinely can't see him masturbating as much anymore.
Although he'd still do it sometimes, now he's not thinking of pretty friends in town or even masturbating to porn. He's only thinking of you and looking at your photos.
And since I'm too knee-deep in the theme of the reader asking their lover-boy to masturbate in front of him, I'll say this—
Depending on where you are in your relationship with him, he's not masturbating in front of you, since I think it would be too much vulnerability for him. Especially if the two of you are just fooling around for a while rather than dating.
Therefore, he'll just make you touch yourself in front of him for even thinking to ask the question lol.
♡ - He drank from his beer can languidly as he watched you touch yourself to his half-naked body. His shirt was the only thing that was on Shane's body, his bottom half thankfully left uncovered, as you were able to look at his dripping cock, hanging heavy from its own weight.
Your mouth watered at the sight as you touched yourself to Shane's cock, making sure to give him a clear view of what you were doing to yourself as you kept your legs spread while your fingers slid teasingly slow up and down your folds. You nearly drooled at the sight of Shane's cock, your pussy clenching and unclenching at the thought of such a huge thing being inside of you, and yet...you knew that dream wouldn't come any time soon as Shane seemed perfectly content with letting you touch yourself! It was borderline torture...if you could go back in time right now, and tell yourself not to request such a silly thing— "You're moving too slow." Shane said after finishing another sip from his beer can and setting it down on the nearby nightstand.
You nearly squeaked from embarrassment before speeding up your ministrations once again, Shane's cock jumping at the lewd sight whilst a snarky chuckle escaped his lips.
However...you couldn't be mad at him for this, when you had came to him asking for him to touch himself in front of you, he tried to laugh the request off as he truly believed that you were telling some weird joke to him! Or even playing a prank! But when you insisted? Not even your adorable pleading eyes could stop him from clicking his tongue and suggesting that you touch yourself to him instead. "Bet you're feelin' reeealll stupid right now, huh?" Shane murmured. "Askin' me to touch myself...do I really look that pussywhipped for you?"
You hated the way that your cunt grew even wetter at Shane's mean words.
He clicked his tongue. "Seriously, we've only fucked a couple of times. Don't let me sayin' that you've got a nice, tight cunt get y' in trouble." Your thighs threatened to shut closed in an attempt to stave off cumming too soon, your clit beginning to ache almost painfully as you whined at Shane's words. "You're lucky though...least you're cute." Shane proceeded to compliment you as his hand slowly inched closer to his cock, wrapping his hand around himself to begin gently squeezing it for a few moments before he steadily began to rub himself up and down. Not at a speed to pleasure himself, more so to give you a show, further encouragement for you to please yourself as your fingers traveled back up to your throbbing clit.
Your breath caught in your throat at the light contact, leaning back to brace yourself on your elbow as you began to rub tight circles into clit, your eyes heavily glued onto the way Shane rubbed himself. You were soooo tempted to beg him to fuck you, to say apology after apology in an attempt to appease him as you played with your clit, trails of your slick dripping down from your hole and down your ass to create a small puddle of your slick underneath you.
You bucked your hips into your touch, struggling to keep your eyes open to look at Shane, whose gaze was focused on your gaping sex, practically eager for his cock to fill it. "Maybe I should ask you to fingerfuck yourself in front of me more often—" Shane absentmindedly suggested as he watched your fingers go from your clit to your hole, another chuckle being pushed from his chest when he watched you slip only a single finger in. He almost felt insulted; he had trained you to be able to take way more than a single finger.
"A single finger?" He commented. "You can take more." He said.
Your cheeks turned into an even deeper red, beginning to slip another finger into yourself until...an idea popped into your head. "Come...come over and help me." You dared to say. When Shane's hand suddenly paused in its movements, you nearly took your words back; however...you saw the way he stared at your cunt, as if he wanted to be the one fingerfucking you instead, or simply fucking you altogether. "What y' say?" The words were nearly snarled as Shane rose a little from his position to begin making his way over to you. You gained a little more boldness. "Help me." You repeated as your small glare intensified into a stronger one.
"Help you?" He repeated.
You had a mind to think that he wouldn't do at first, that he would just look at you for a little while longer before snorting and going back to watching you practically writhe and squirm for his cock to fill you. Yet, when his hand suddenly touched you, albeit it was a rough knead of your breast...you knew you had won as a sharp, high-pitched moan tore from your lips. "F-Fuck—!"
A hand slapped over your lips to effectively shut you up as Shane's hand trailed down your body to your sex, his eyes watching every little expression you gave him as he could hardly stand to wait a single second longer for you to eat your words and make you wish that you had simply endured a bit longer and continued to touch yourself.
Now? He had no choice but to fuck you with his fingers until you were positively shaking.
Harvey
[No Relationship]
Weirdly enough, I can't imagine Harvey really masturbating enough to have a preference?
To be honest, I think he'd have a very clinical outlook on it. When he's in the mood, he'll masturbate, but he won't watch porn or even look at magazines. One, he's too busy to keep up with his tastes more or less, and on the other hand? He's more focused on you.
He wouldn't dare to masturbate to your image in his head; he feels as if he'd be disrespecting you in some way, even though you'd be none the wiser!
Instead? He'll just remember your voice and allow that to carry him the rest of the way, doing his best to ignore how his cock would jump when your figure would flash through his mind.
But of course, since I like the idea of Harvey being shy and being with a more confident reader, Im going to go ahead and say that he'd probably masturbate to your voice over a phone call if the opportunity ever arose.
♡ - His mind was tearing itself apart right now as he sat alone in his office.
It was the end of another busy day, and Harvey had just finished seeing the last of his patients. As easy as it could've been to simply walk upstairs to his home that sat right above his doctor's office...he was preoccupied with the aching feeling in his pants, the feeling keeping him practically glued to the very seat he sat on as he debated whether or not to take care of him self here or upstairs.
What should've been a simple answer, although...wasn't so simple.
Before the day had ended, you had decided to stop by and talk to him per the usual! You had given him a cup of coffee along with a snack, all as you leaned over the edge of the counter. Harvey felt terrible that his eyes continued to wander to your chest whenever he thought you weren't looking...beads of sweat rolling down from your face and into the valley between your supple bosom as you spoke carefreely, blissfully unaware of what you were doing to him.
As frustrating as it was, as much as your looks made him hard each and every time he saw you for too long...he still didn't want to disrespect you by touching himself to the thought of you!
What if you didn't like him?
What if you suddenly walked in and caught him in the act? Gaining a disgusted look on your face before never talking to him again?
Those thoughts alone...a quieted whine left his lips at the thought as he blinked himself out of staring into blank space at the wall before steadily redirecting his attention to the tent, his cock had pitched in his pants. Those thoughts...he couldn't imagine them coming to fruition! Yet, the burning feeling in his boxers made his mind slowly fog over and hide away any reasoning or logic, his hand inching closer and closer to his hidden cock before Harvey suddenly scrunched up his hand just before he was about to have some relief.
He didn't want to risk disrespecting you.
Even if it meant blue-balling himself.
But as a small dark patch appeared on the front of his pants...Harvey's eyes darted from the door into his office and then back to his crotch repeatedly as his self-control began to wane. Soon, a deep sigh escaped his lungs. "A little something couldn't hurt...right?" He murmured to himself as he finally brought his hand down to rest over his erection. And the pleasure...even from such a small touch, it was mind-blowing. A sharp hiss of pleasure and relief escaped through his teeth as Harvey's head hung down to look at what he was doing to himself as he slowly rubbed the palm of his hand over his erection repeatedly, even slowly bucking his hips upwards a little to further press his aching, clothed cock closer to moving hand as he tried to keep his mind from slipping further into depravity than it already was doing.
He already let himself begin to touch himself to the thought of your voice...the words you would murmur to him in that light-hearted teasing voice of yours. He imagined that you would encourage him to take his time with touching himself, to enjoy the build-up—his cock jumped at the thought, the confines of his pants seeming to get tighter and tighter by the moment, before Harvey murmured a quiet 'Fuck' to himself and decided to lift his hips just enough to pull down his pants along with his boxers.
His cock slapped against his stomach when it was freed from its confines, leaving behind a dark spot of pre-cum on his shirt before it stood at attention. The tip of his cockhead was so red that it almost looked painful, pre-cum practically overflowing from his tip as the doctor's mind continued to be invaded by lewder thoughts of you.
Your voice was like a siren's song in his mind...tempting him further and further into thinking about how you'd look naked, how you'd look if you were on your knees right now and stroking his cock instead of himself. "Y/N..." He murmured, his hand shakily gripping the base of his cock. A shuddery moan left his lips, tensing up from his own touch before he relaxed and steadily started to stroke his throbbing cock, the very feeling sending pleasurable electricity throughout his veins until—
The phone suddenly rang.
His hand tore itself away from his cock as if it were dirty. His eyes shot open to fish his phone out from his pocket and nearly dropped it in the process. He cleared his throat, preparing to sound more professional and serious as if he weren't just touching himself a mere moment ago...that is, until he saw your contact name on his screen. Yoba had to have been playing a joke on him...why would you be calling him now?
However, what if it were an emergency? That single worry made Harvey answer the call, ignoring the way his cock twitched when you picked up the call. "Harvey!" You answered him cheerily. "I just wanted to call you to talk, I'm soooo bored. Oh! You're not busy...are you? I don't want to interrupt you." He hesitated for a long while, both stuck between the decision of whether or not to lie and say he was busy, or to listen to the idea that was starting to form inside his head. The sound of your voice...even just talking about the most mundane thing, it was enough to nearly make a moan escape his chest before Harvey had to quickly bite back the sound. He didn't want to masturbate to the sound of your voice over the phone...he couldn't.
But he wanted to do sooooo badly.
Just a little further encouragement to help him along.
So...he let out a shaky sigh as he kept the phone close to his ear, returning his hand to his cock. "I-I have time to talk..." He murmured.
"Oh, good!" You giggled, none the wiser to what was happening on the other side of the phone. "You sure, though? You sound a little shaky. Are you sick? Do you need a doctor?"
There was that kind nature of yours again...
He couldn't help the way that he began to fist his cokc even harder, the fact that he had to do his best to stay quiet only making his cock twitch and throb even harder at the fact— "Harvey?"
"H-Huh?"
"Are you sick?"
"I-I'm—oohhh...—fine." He tried to reassure you.
He was more than fine, in fact.
You, however, were unconvinced, instead deciding to listen more closely to Harvey's noises. Never once in your entire time you've known him have you known him to be so...breathless when he spoke. He spoke with a calm confidence, albeit sometimes a little nervously, when he was in front of you for some odd reason. "Y-Y/N?" He suddenly spoke up. "Are you—"
"Are you touching yourself?" Even when potentially caught, Harvey still couldn't force himself to cease the movements of his hand; the fact that he was caught only made him moan in response as he began to buck his hips upwards, desperately chasing after his budding climax. "I...I-I'm sorry— I just...your voice—" You interrupted him with a giggle, your own thighs clenching together at the idea of Harvey touching himself to the sound of your voice. He was sooooo cute. "I didn't know you had feelings for me." You sighed. 'You didn't?' He thought. And here he thought that he thought that you weren't interested in him. "Do...do you have feelings for me?" Harvey moaned.
`Pleasepleaseplease...say yes.` He desperately begged inside his mind, broken moans began to leave his lips even more boldly. Choked up gasps and groans escaped his throat as he pressed his head back against the back of his chair, his cock oozing even more of his pre-cum in anticipation of his oncoming orgasm. "I do." You admitted after a while, having to take a long moment to enjoy Harvey's moans and gasps from the other side of the phone as you eagerly awaited to hear what he sounded like when he came.
Something that didn't take long, as a single line of "Cum for me, Harvey..." made Harvey cum with a drawn-out moan, his eyes screwing tightly as he threatened to nearly tear up with how hard he came. His cock twitched with every jet of his cum that spilled out from the slit in his cockhead, whispers of your name falling from his lips before his hand stilled, thighs twitching from his efforts while you sat quiet on the other side of the phone, listening to him come dwon from his high while you practically wiggled with the urge to either touch yourself or touch him.
Something that you planned on doing...the second that you made it to his office.
[In Relationship]
Still a masturbator even when he's in a relationship. He's a busy man! The only difference is that he's upgraded from masturbating to the memory of your voice and a good set of magazines, to your entire image now!
Whether it's to the outfit you wore to you and your date a while back or how you looked at him that one time...as if he were the most handsome person in the entire town.
As patient as Harvey can be to wait for you, he can't help the fact that he's a chronic yearner for you.
Therefore...it was only to be expected for him to have little no qualms masturbating in front of you! Even if he's a little alot embarrassed, he's still willing to do it simply because he wants to show you how much of a willing servant he is for you.
♡ - "C'mon Harvey...even I don't believe that you rub yourself that slowly." You teasingly giggled at the doctor as you sat behind him, looking over his shoulder to peer at how the doctor pleasured his own dick.
Harvey gulped heavily at the feeling of your breath on the shell of his ear, his movements shaky and hesitant as he tried to fight through his embarrassment as well as how much his face burned because of it! When the two of you started talking more seriously, getting to a point in your relationship where you both were willing to do things of this nature, Harvey hadn't expected you to be so...forward. Outside of your sweet and gentle demeanor, you were a teaser through and through, and Harvey unknowingly willingly found himself to be your newest plaything.
Not that he minded much, of course. The feeling of your hands running up and down his chest as he stroked his cock made him buck his hips into his fist, a drawn-out whine escaping his throat as you cooed at the sound. You couldn't help yourself when you pressed yourself closer to Harvey's back! Your tits pressed against his back while you began to grind your pussy against the sheets of his bed. As much as you would've preferred to have been riding his cock...fucking yourself dumb while you watched Harvey lose himself to the feeling of your tight pussy, you were more interested in teasing the doctor for a little.
Just until you had your fill. "Try to rub your cock faster! Feels waayyyy better that way." You then suggested, giggling as if he had just told a joke.
Harvey looked over his shoulder at you. "I...I can't." He said. "N-Not when you're touching me—Ooooh..." You smirked when he lost his words in the face of you starting to flick his nipples, sometimes pinching and lightly pulling at them as you began to place soft kisses onto his shoulder. "Don't tell me that a little nipple play is enough to make you unable to touch yourself correctly?" You pouted. "I was really looking forward to seeing how you play with yourself—" You softly moaned when you rubbed your clit against the sheets just right, more of your juices beginning to soak your underwear. "—It'll certainly help me get off." You added.
What he wouldn't give to touch you instead.
But as much as he was a pleaser, a willing servant to all your whims and games...Harvey hadn't lusted after you as much as he had just to continue touching himself. He wanted you. "...Please," Your eyes widened to the bed. "Touch me...instead." He murmured. Your mouth opened to request him to beg louder, to sound like he reeallly needed you to touch him, instead, but...it seemed like he had already done the mental work of convincing himself to beg for your touch in the first place! Therefore, you decided to play nice and reward him. "You really want me to touch you that bad?" You said as you slipped your hands down towards his dick.
You laughed when his breath hitched at your touch, his dick twitching as you slowly wrapped both of your hands around his cock before you slowly began to pump your hands up and down. Harvey's moans were delicious...his head fell back to rest on your shoulder as he lost himself in the feeling of your touch, each pleasurable feeling making him want to nearly cum from the sheer satisfaction and relief of this moment, every wet dream...every lustful thought or time that he thought of you in a dirtier setting....it felt like it had all been worth it in the end.
He was grateful that you were bolder than himself.
Otherwise, he would've been steeping in the pit of his own lustful wants and desires for Yoba knows how long.
"Your cock is leaking so much, Harvey..." You marveled at just how much pre-cum he was leaking; you would've thought he had cum already! "Is that all from me touching you? I've barely even started..." You whispered into his ear, a giggle following suit when his cock jumped in response, earning Harvey a couple of taps from your finger onto the angry head of his dick. You made sure not to play with him for too long; however, one of your hands slid up to begin rolling your hand repeatedly over his cockhead.
Harvey let out a sharp, high-pitched moan at the contact, the muscles in his thighs and stomach flexing as his jaw began to fall open, all types of lewd sounds beginning to escape more freely as Harvey lazily thrusted his hips in time with your strokes. "S-So good..." He groaned, causing you to squeeze his cock just a little harder in response, earning a broken gasp mixed with a moan in response.
You could feel his cock starting to throb more, his chest falling and rising more frequently. "Close—!" He struggled to withhold the urge to scream out his pleasure, the very thought of someone even beginning to hear him making him blush even harder as he swore he could've died of embarrassment if such a thing ever happened. And the sight of his increasingly reddening face...his moans and the way he began to stutter in his thrusts made you smirk like a wicked fox as you increased your pumps to an almost impossible speed, trying to bring about Harvey's orgasm even faster. "Ahh...you must reeallly be close Harvey—" You noticed his breath come in shorter pants, his cock twitching and straining against your hands as his pre-cum suddenly began to become clearer and more frequent. "—Soooooo cute~!" You praised him.
When you placed a kiss on his cheek, that was the catalyst that drove the doctor to suddenly let out a drawn-out scream towards his ceiling as his cum shot out from his cock. Jet after jet landing on his stomach and even a little onto his chest as you continued to pump him through his high. It was only when he managed to grab your wrist, gently urging you to stop, did you let him go and proceeded to cover his cheek in appreciative kisses. Something that you intended to do up until he fully came down from his high, and you were able to spoil him with a bath and a meal.
Jio
[No Relationship]
UGH MY MAN—
As much as I'd like to say otherwise, I can't see Jio masturbating to any type of porn, seeing as he's too busy/focused for it. Life as a ninja is demanding and doesn't allow much time for himself, and if he does have free time, it's spent either training or meditating.
But assuming he has free time and is feeling more pent up than usual, I like to believe that he'd probably be the type to jerk off to the thought of you. Although he doesn't really know you and is suspicious of you still, he has a pair of working eyes and does believe you're nice to look at.
He wouldn't say your name, in fact? He's pretty quiet during the whole ordeal overall as he fists his cock against a tree somewhere out in the forest, the only noise coming from him being the heavy breathing or the pants that slip from his lips every now and again.
Only when he's close to climaxing would he allow himself to say your name once. But, he'd probably feel a bit guilty about it, and that would be the catalyst that makes him avoid touching himself for a long while (as well as making him realize that he kinda likes you as well).
♡ - 'What a shameful situation...' Jio thought to himself as he leaned against a tree, heavy pants escaping through his mask as his eyes were glued to the tent in his pants. He was supposed to be patrolling the forest territories outside Ridgeside Village, to make sure that no monsters had slipped by from beyond the Ridge as per the orders of his Lady.
And yet...since witnessing you take out an entire small army of monsters on your own, your strength and courage in battle, combined with how he knew you. Clumsy and easily flustered around him, always eager to give him flowers too. He wasn't an idiot; he knew that you had feelings for him, but he planned to ignore your hints and small advances, deeming there to be no reason for him to involve himself with not only a human but someone who was essentially a necessary tool for his Lady's plans to protect the valley!
What use was there in complicating matters by romance?
At least...that's what he tried to tell himself.
In truth, reality was harsher than the stories crafted by the mind. His cock throbbed and ached with the desire to be touched, the elf's eyes darting side to side as if he would be caught at any moment like a deer attempting to escape the hunt of a prowling mountain cat. Once confirmed that no one was around but the quiet sounds of nature...it was then that Jio dared to let a hand slip down south, all before a whispered moan left his lips when he grabbed his hard cock, the feeling providing temporary relief until he needed more.
Slowly, he sank down to the grassy floor as he tried to soothe himself via rubbing his hand over his clothed cock repeatedly. Each touch was both equally as light as a ghost's touch and hard as if he were attempting to punish himself for giving into such base desires. The Lady of the cult had scolded him from time to time throughout his bringing up that romance was unnecessary, that it caused nothing but distractions, and that he was to always remain focused.
He could agree on the distraction part.
Each rub of his cock made him dizzy with thoughts of you.
Suddenly, he took note of your features in his mind's eye more. Like...how adorable you looked at him when he told you to go away, both debating whether or not to challenge his word, or to simply do as you were told. When you eventually turned away, however, listening to him, he wouldn't deny how his cock throbbed at the memory in addition to how soft your body felt. The few times the two of you were close to one another, times that he dared to label as 'disgusting' in his head.
Now he was beginning to wish that he had pressed himself even closer to your body in turn. Despite how fierce you were in a fight, it seemed that your body was still as soft as one would be if they had never picked up a weapon in their life! "Y—" Jio quickly stopped himself from saying your name out loud, as if daring to do so would be admitting to the fact that he may have somewhat liked you despite what he was doing to himself already. How his hand grew tired of rubbing over his cock and instead moved to pull down his pants a little, just enough to free himself, before a sharp hiss escaped him once his dick was exposed to the cool air. His cock hung slightly from its own weight, the tip leaking a milky white pre-cum as trails of it dribbling down the sides of his length and even dripping onto the grass below.
"Yoba..." Jio whispered as he dared to wrap his hand around his cock. He tightened his hand at the base for a moment before slowly bringing it up to his cockhead and repeating the action. He repeated the process a few more times. Up and down, up and down until he found himself going into a steady motion, clumsy and inexperienced perhaps, but...it did the job enough to give him pleasure as soft pants and moans began to leave his lips.
He thought of your body even more, his mind beginning to imagine you in more... compromising positions as he spread his legs a little wider, got more comfortable in his position against the three as he sped up his ministrations even more. "Fuck..." He whispered breathlessly, his eyes fluttering closed as his cock twitched to the image behind his eyes. More pre-cum oozed from his cockhead, the movements of his hand aiding in making each glide up and down his cock slicker and quicker as the elf began to buck his hips up into his hand, a strange tightness beginning to form in the pit of his stomach as more moans began to flow more freely from his mouth.
Strangely enough, he was beginning to wish that you were here somewhere in this forest.
An effect of his lust-riddled mind, perhaps, but...he wanted your help. The idea of you slowly bringing your hips up and down his cock, your sweet moans ringing in his ears as his hands wandered up and down your soft body, made him moan for your touch, a thought that aided him in his impending orgasm as he bucked his hips up into his fists with more determination to reach his orgasm. "Y/N..." His head rolled to look off to the side as he moaned your name softly, cheeks flushing in both embarrassment and shame at the fact that he was touching himself to the thought of you. However...you wouldn't mind, right?
You wanted his attention.
He thought back to the flowers you gifted him a while back, the ones he had so foolishly thrown off to the side when you were out of his sight.
He imagined what your face would look like if you were to catch him like this. Shocked, most definitel,y but the image of you slowly walking up to him and offering yourself as a form of 'help'—Jio could barely manage to buck his hips up into his hands a few more times before he finally climaxed with a deep groan, a milky whiteness spilling over his gloved hands and shooting onto the grass. Jio stroked himself a few more times, wringing out every last drop of his spend before he started to whine from building overstimulation.
Slowly, post-orgasmic bliss transitioned over steadily building shame as the elf murmured an embarrassed grumble.
After today, he planned to be a little nicer to you, to try to see where your affections towards him would lead both of you.
[In Relationship]
He's more than happy to indulge your fantasies about him.
In fact, I think he'd be honored(?). In the sense that he's happy that you find him as attractive as he does you. The moment you suggest he masturbate in front of you, he's already dragging you off to the bedroom to fulfill your fantasy.
While he's not turning into Magic Mike, he would try to appeal to other fantasies you have, such as him keeping his mask on him as well as him talking to you in the process! I'm talking compliments, confessions as to what he's going to do to you the second he's finished with himself, all the works.
"Yoba...you look so pretty standing there, Y/N."
"Such a tease, t-the moment I'm finished—Fuck."
"How do you look more wrecked than I? Be patient, my love, once I'm done. I'll tend to that needy pussy of yours."
The whole nine yards, and the second he finishes, he makes good on his promise to tend to you.
♡ - "Will...will you touch yourself in front of me?" When you asked that question in front of him one day, he had to hear you repeat the question around two more times before it not only fully registered in his mind, but also for him to understand that he wasn't dreaming all of a sudden.
To say that Jio was infatuated with you was an understatement.
He was willing to do anything for you, no matter the consequence that would potentially befall himself.
So, to please himself in front of you was but another small thing in the list of endless other things he was willing to do if it meant satisfying a desire of yours. However...as he led you to the bedroom, taking off his clothes before sitting in front of you to begin touching himself...he couldn't help but wonder why you had asked such a thing of him in the first place! Especially seeing as, hardly a few minutes into him touching himself, you looked worse for wear than he was! While he was noticeably flushed, pupils dilated as his eyes roamed over your still-clothed form, not needing much but your very presence to get himself off—you looked as if you were about to pounce on him at any second.
Your chest heaved up and down rapidly as if you had just finished running. Your cheeks were noticeably red, and your hands twitched with the urge to touch him.
Jio chuckled at your needy state. "You-You don't have to hold yourself back from touching me." He offered as he began to spread his legs even wider to let you see, not only more of what he was doing to himself but also to entice you. As fine as he was with stroking his own cock, he made sure to focus on fisting himself slowly, with a particular focus on stimulating his cockhead the most. He would much rather you touch him. "I enjoy your touch more than my own, my love—"
"I-I just want to watch." You interrupted, hardly managing to keep a broken moan from escaping your lips, much less the obvious fact that you were lying.
Jio rolled his eyes at your stubborn nature.
But if that were the case...the elf decided that he would have to get you to touch him another way. "If you won't touch me, then...may I touch you?" The way he sounded as if he were on the brink of getting on his knees and worshipping you had you in shambles, as you could've sworn that your underwear was absolutely soaked now as you stared at Jio, almost dumbfoundedly. Like a ship slowly sailing itself closer to the origin of a siren's call, though...you walked closer to the bed first before crawling onto it, getting closer...and closer...and closer, until you were kneeling right in between Jio's thighs.
Right where he wanted you, the elf wasting no time to sit up straighter and loop an arm around your waist to pull you closer until the two of you were chest to chest, staring deeply into each other's eyes as Jio continued to pump his cock, the tip now leaking like a broken faucet as pre-cum leaked from his slit almost non-stop. "So pretty..." You both murmured in unison. However, Jio's face blushed almost more intensely than your own, his eyes widening for a split second at the compliment before he quickly tried to save face with a scoff. "You flatter me." Were his only words before he urged you to lean forward a little more, your breaths fanning over each other's face as Jio's eyes traveled from your own and down to your lips.
His cock throbbed at the idea of kissing you...although he had done so many times before this moment, the urge was even stronger now that he was touching himself.
However, he had to remember that this plan was to get you to lose yourself. To eventually forgo this little game of yours, where you asked him to please himself in front of yo,u and decide to take matters into your own hands like he so desperately wanted you to.
His eyes lidded. "...May I kiss you?" He murmured, stopping himself just an inch short of kissing you.
You didn't even try to give him an answer before deciding to smash your lips against Jio's. A deep groan escaped from the elf's lips as he stroked his cock even harder in response as he pulled you even harder against his chest. Your hands quickly found their way to entangle themselves in Jio's hair as lewd smacking and breathless moans shared between the two of you began to become louder and louder in the otherwise silent space of your bedroom, all alongside the slick sounds of Jio fisting his cock like a man possessed. Your body being pressed so close to his own...the sound of your moans mixed with how you tugged and pulled at his hair as if you couldn't get enough of him...as if you were just as infatuated with him as he was with you.
"Y/N..." He whispered in-between your kisses. "I can't—I can't get enough of you..." His words were almost as if he were confessing to a statue of Yoba. When you pulled away, your cunt throbbed at the sight of Jio's state. His head was pressed deeply into the pillow behind him, his hair fanning the sides of his head while his pupils nearly took over the greens of his eyes, almost as if the man were absolutely lovesick with you!
Yet, even as Jio breathlessly whined for your lips to return to his own. For you to let him kiss you again, his hand never stopped moving.
You were almost—no, you were jealous.
Without a second thought, you slapped Jio's hand away to take over touching him yourself. The sudden feeling of your soft hand replacing his calloused one made the elf suddenly let out a sharp moan before it was swiftly snuffed out by your lips returning to his own. Without letting a single second pass by, Jio's hands entangle themselves in your hair, pulling your head closer to his lips as his hips started to gently thrust into your moving hand, muffled groans escaping him every now and again as the pleasure seems to burn through his veins seemingly tenfold. Enough to almost make the man tear up from a mixture of his budding orgasm and the sheer amount of care and love he had for you. However...he didn't want things to end too quickly.
As pathetic as it may have seemed, even though he had only gone just a little while of not being able to touch you...now that he was able? He wanted to bask in it for as long as he possibly could. "Don't...don't make me cum so quickly Y/N—" Jio managed to grunt out from your excessive kissing, pulling himself away just a little as much as it pained him.
"Huh...?" You whispered breathlessly, a string of spit still connecting the two of you as you looked at Jio through a foggy vision. The elf chuckled at the sight, his cock throbbing as he caressed your cheek, watching you automatically lean your head into his touch. "I want to enjoy you for as long as I can..." He said. "Let's take our time."
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