i have been running this blog for the better half of three years. over that time Iâve met a MULTITUDE of incredible people who Iâve laughed with, cried with, screamed with, and just fallen in love with. i am so happy to have spent the better part of the pandemic with those people (you know who you are), and am so grateful for the fun this fandom has allowed me to be part of!
unfortunately this blog has gotten away from me. thereâs so much history here, so much love and creativity, but when I log on, all I feel is overwhelmed. Iâve tried to get over it, tried to jump back into fandom, but it just isnât working for me.
for this reason, itsleese will be going on an indefinite hiatus while I figure out what I want to do with it. Iâd still like to finish my ongoing pieces, I still love the drabbles Iâve posted, I still love talking with all of you, but I just need to step away for a while. maybe Iâll archive, maybe Iâll decide to delete, but Iâll let you all know when I know!
i have created a new, smaller blog, so if you happen across it, itâs not someone impersonating me (hopefully) LMAO
THANK YOU for supporting me all these years! and just know I love you all SO SO MUCH!! đđ
warnings: 18+! blowjob, light pet play (if ya squint), ownership, very light sub/dom dynamics, god mention
a/n: this reader is gender neutral! also, this took a very soft turn, itâs not what I had planned at all âĄď¸
Itâs easy to worship a man who acts like a god.
And, as a god, he thinks himself above all others, takes what he wants without question, and gives what he deems necessary.
Ah, therein lies the rub.
What he deems. Not what you want or what you like; what he thinks you deserve, what he thinks you need.
You kneel pretty on the carpet between his legs as he sits on his bed, like a king would a throne. A brand new Tiffany and Co. padlock lays against your skin, twinkles in the lamplight while he fiddles with it, looks it over, scrutinises it; considering heâd gifted it to you only moments ago, he doesnât seem impressed in the slightest.
But heâs handsome like this: hair down, naked, almost glowing. Ethereal. Youâve never met a man who moisturises after a shower, but you always offer to do it for him regardless.
Thick fingers tap at your chin, a silent order to look up at him, which you follow without pause. Red eyes take in your face, an eyebrow raising in silent judgement.
âThank you, Barou,â you glance down at the heart-shaped padlock, face warming, but he taps your chin again, demanding your attention. âI-Itâs beautiful,â you stammer, a little flustered.
âItâs not there for decoration,â he says firmly, still stoic. âItâs a declaration. Youâre mine.â
ââM yours,â you nod, almost breathless at the sentiment. You wanna say always, because it sounds lovely in your head, but the thought of him telling you not to get too comfortable crosses your mind, and you bite your tongue.
Heâs told (read: warned) you a few times of the lovers before you, about how they expected things from him, things he just wouldnât give. Barouâs an egotistical bastard if youâve ever met one, but you like him and his waysâ maybe a little too much.
He watches you a little longer, those eyes of his giving nothing away. Sometimes it feels like he can read your mind, but it seems now heâs having a hard time of it.
âHow are you going to thank me?â He asks, leaning closer, gripping your chin and tugging it so heâs speaking against your lips. âYour collar wasnât cheap, pet.â
You whimper as your tummy flutters, your hands going to his knees as you push up, pressing your lips to his. When you pull away from the kiss, you eye off his cock: thick, heavy, hanging flaccid against his hefty sack. âIâll suck it? Can⌠may I please suck it?â
You watch as it twitches at your words, and Barou grunts a pleased sound, spreads his great legs wider, giving you a better view to take him in.
âI like it when you use your manners,â he murmurs, hand going to the top of your head, petting your hair, gently fondling your ear as you lean closer, rub your tongue against itâs spongey head.
You can feel your arousal in your underwear, addicted to his hard-won praise, needing more. More throaty grunts, more ďżźoffhanded comments, more of his hands on you.
Your hands run up his powerful thighs, fingertips pressing into his softâ impossibly softâ skin. He waxes, which isnât strange for a world-class athlete, but you didnât think itâd ever be something youâre into. Of course, Barou proves you wrong once again.
Just like you never thought being called a possession, or a pet, or a beggar, would do anything for you, Barou has proved you wrong.
His cock is more than a mouthful, even soft, but you do your best to swallow him whole. Blunt nails scratch at your scalp as he exhales above you, and you feel him come alive against your tongue, quickly outgrowing the cavern of your mouth.
You pop off him with a gasp, but take no pause, diving right back in; you hold him at his base, slide up and down his shaft, hollowing your cheeks, feeling his cock throb between your lips, along your tongue, taking him in until heâs hitting the back of your throat.
He likes it like that. Hard and fast. Likes it when your eyes are watery, and youâre drooling all over his balls, humming around his shaftâ
âCock-drunk,â he breathes, tugging you off by your hair, tilting your head until your glassy eyes are meeting his. Thereâs a flush in his face, his eyes a little softer than before. âWhoâs my little whore?â
You have to clear your throat, âme. I am,â and you try and slink out of his grip, to get back to his cock, but he holds you there, eyes narrowing a little.
âOnly mine.â he says darkly, cementing the statement.
âY-yours,â you nod, feeling saliva dribble down your chin, down your throat.
âGood,â he grunts, loosening his hold, allowing you to get back to your task.
But you donât. You lean up and press your lips to his. Heâs shocked, sucks in a little breath when you pull away, pump his cock in your hand.
âAnd youâre mine? R-right, Barou?â You hate how desperate you sound, hate how thereâs a lump in your throat, that youâre expecting him to push you away, to throw you out for being too needy, for oversteppingâ
He pulls your hair again, harder, brings you close. âI belong to no one,â he breathes, and your stomach falls, devastation washing over you like a cold showerâ âbut you have my heart.â His other hand cups your jaw as the grip on the one in your hair loosens, and he presses his lips to your forehead. Tenderly.
The bubble of emotion in your throat threatens to burst and spillâ real tears along with itâ as you sit up on your knees, his hands cupping you gently. He pulls away, eyes intense, searing into you, and youâre speechless.
He seems to understand, and letâs you go, hands moving to brace himself as he leans back a little, the hard lines of his abs, obliques, and pecks defining as he flexes, laying himself bare for you.
You take in the view, but donât dwell, getting back to work, needing to prove how much you worship this manâ this god, who has decided to entrusted you with his heart.
Barouâs girthy and long on a good day, but he seems to grow in your mouth; the heady scent of something entirely masculine mingling with the buttery honey of his moisturiser filling your senses, the bitter taste of pre hitting the back of your throat.
Saliva floods your mouth when he triggers your gag reflex, tears finally spilling when he thrusts up a little too sharply, a choked sound vibrating around his cock as you mewl, still full of him. It doesnât deter you though, if anything it spurs you on.
You move faster with more lubrication, stopping only to lick and suck at his balls, his perineum, before sliding back over him, swallowing him best you can, savouring the breathy gasp that falls from his lips.
Because more than verbal praise or bought gifts, what you desire is him. His essence.
His thick cum.
You want it so much your own excitement hurts, one hand holding his shaft still, the other between his legs, pad of your thumb pushing against that spot of skin beneath his sack, feeling for that subtle twitch that signalsâ
His huge, strong hand hits against the back of your head and holds you close as he simultaneously thrusts up, pushing your nose against his neatly trimmed pubes, head of his cock nestling deep in your throat.
As he exhalesâ a dirty, gruff, indecent soundâ two things happen: one, he cums thickly down your throat, fingernails scratching your scalp as you choke and writhe for air.
And two, you cum.
Itâs all a little hazy after that. He fucks you raw, fucks you hard, then he bathes you; washes your hair, scrubs your skin, leaves you to soak with some tea in his giant brass tub.
But there is one thing that keeps you smiling, even in your hazy, lethargic state of mind.
Mikey doesnât want a girlfriend. Theyâre too much hassle, take up too much time, and theyâve got⌠feelings. He honestly canât be fucked.
Besides, Drakenâs got one.
Youâre cute, too. Smart, but not intelligent enough to stay away from Drakenâ which is probably more Drakenâs fault than yoursâ and straight-laced, too.
With a real job.
You like to cook, youâre funny as hell, and you donât take Pah Chinâs shit. Mikeyâs comfortable enough to fall asleep in your presence, and he loves it when you put the rest of the boys in their place (lovingly, of course).
The best part about you, though? Nights like these.
Nights when you show up at Mikeyâs place on Drakenâs arm, little grin on your face, dessert box full of taiyaki in your hands.
See, Draken loves youâ thereâs absolutely no doubt about thatâ and you love him, too, but there are just some things he wonât let you do. Things that Mikeyâs more than happy to let you do to him.
Because thatâs what he gets off on.
He loves seeing you in your lacy intimates, enjoys the preshow undressing of you by his right hand man. The way he gently peels your clothes away, the way you whisper and giggle to each other, the absolute adoration in his eyes when they lock with yours.
It soothes Mikey. He didn't think he'd get to see Draken in love again.
But that's neither here nor there, because soon enough you're on your way over to him, to his bed, and Draken's unfolding his long limbs in the armchair on the far side of the room, settling in to watch the main event.
You're a delectable tease, peppering his skin with kisses, taking his toes into your mouth and giving them a little nibble that has Mikey moaning almost wantonly. A bite to his thighâ then the other for good measureâ and your warm, wet tongue gliding up his cock.
"You gonna be a good boy for me, Mikey?" You ask, but you're not waiting for an answer, two petal-soft fingertips gliding down his balls and against his pereneum, putting the gentlest pressure against the lube-smeared ring beneath it.
"Y-yeah," he stutters; not because he's nervous, but because it feels so damn good.
"Are you gonna beg, baby boy?" Comes your soft purr, the heat of your breath tickling his hole, hands pushing his legs up and apart to give you better access.
His eyes flicker to Draken, humiliation prickling up the back of his neck when the man in question lifts a brow, quirks a smirk.
"Iâ" Thisâthe dirty talkâis new; it makes Mikey blush and squirm and bite his lip, makes his cock twitch and leak pre. "P-please," he whispers, voice cracking desperately, and your fingernails dig into his thighs, tongue licking gently at his hole, a wanton groan vibrating through your chest, sending a shiver up Mikey's spine.
When your tongue enters him, his toes curl. A strangled noise dies on his tongue and his head hits the pillow; his imagination snaps into overdrive, the sensation of the slimy muscle both too much and not nearly enough as it works in and out and around his most sensitive spot.
"More," he finds himself panting, hands wringing the sheets by his flexing hips. There's an ungodly slurpâ Draken's breath hitching along with Mikey'sâ and you're humming.
"More what, Mikey?" You sit up, swipe at your wet bottom lip with the pad of your thumb, loom over him. "You want me to keep eating your ass, or do you need something else?"
You're entirely too angelic to be talking like that.
He can't help but flicker back to Draken, heat filling his cheeks, his neck, his chest, when he says, "something else," in his tense little croak.
You fucking grin. Then you're leaning a little closer, lips finding his navel, those devastating eyes of yours locking with his as one of your hands languidly finds his cock, as the other hovers between his ass cheeks.
"Like what?" You bat those lashes, and he grunts.
He's so fucking hard, and your hand's just holding his cock, fingers are just resting against his most sensitive spot. Shame and humiliation are new for Mikey, something you'd drawn out of him only on occasions such as these.
And he's addicted.
Addicted to the rush, to your pretty hands on his skin, to the butterflies running rampant in his stomach, to the heavy stare of his best friendâ
"Mikey~" you sing gently against his skin, tongue trailing up to a pink nipple. "You're not paying attention to me," you pout, teeth sinking into his sensitive skin.
"Hah!" He jolts when you work his cock at the same time, your other handâ covered in lube and spit and precumâ soothing over the bite as you sit back up.
"Tell me what you need, baby," you coo, licking your lips. Something long and cool and hard rubs easily between his cheeks when you grind your hips a little closer, and he gasps.
"That," He breathes, sitting up a little; but your dainty palm on his sternum pushes him back down.
"You want," you purr, little smirk on your face, âthis?â Then you thrust slowly again. Heâs about to answer when you keep talking. âBut Mikey, baby, I havenât properly loosened you up yet.â
ââM loose enough,â he huffs, impatient, and Draken chuckles lightly.Â
âYou said that last time, and you couldnât ride your bike for a week.â
âI loosened myself up before you got here,â he concurs, puffing his cheeks. âNow be quiet, Kenchin,â
âYeah, Kenchin,â you mock, your eyes flicking over your shoulder at your boyfriend, âwe donât wanna hafta kick you out.â Itâs an empty threat, all three of you know that, but Draken mimes zipping his lips, locking it, and shoving the key into his pants pocket.
Then youâre locking eyes with Mikey again, and his heartrate is starting to pick up at the devilish grin on your face. âYou loosened yourself up for me? Iâm honoured,â you purr. Mikey makes an indignant sound in the back of his throat. âThought you felt softer around my tongue,â you continue, the tip of the little pink muscle swiping slowly at your bottom lip.
He groans, eyes rolling as you thrust against him again, teasing him with the squishy silicone head of your pearlescent pink cock.
âSo, I...â you breathe, leaning up to press a kiss under his ear. âI can just slide right in?â Then youâre licking him, nipping at his earlobe, sucking on that sensitive spot beneath his ear. Fuck, you feel so good when you press yourself against him.
âG-guess so,â he pants, unwilling to truly give in.Â
To beg.
Not this early, anyway.Â
âDonât touch your cock.â You order darkly, leaning away from him, running those deft little fingers down to his ass, sliding one into himâ he tenses at the intrusion, but shivers in delightâ then two, slowly making sure that heâs done it properly.
Youâre so good to him.Â
âOh, Mikey,â your voice is whisper-soft, face angelic. âYou did so well,â then you lean forward and kiss his lips.Â
Youâre tender, soft, lovely. Your free hand removes your bra, and for a heartbeat Mikeyâs empty again, before thereâs a clicking sound, and your fingers return wetter and colder and so, so slick; buttering him up, taking extra care not to hurt him.
âReady?â You ask, but he doesnât care too much for consent.Â
Youâre pushing in before he can chew you out. Slowlyâ so fucking slowlyâ centimeter by centimeter, your eyes on his face; taking in every flutter of his lashes, the way he gnaws his bottom lip, his soft exhales.Â
âYouâre so cute, Mikey,â you praise; and he likes itâ fuck, he loves itâ but he doesnât want you to know that, canât bring himself to vocalise it. âRemember not to touch your cock, okay? Or Iâll have to tie you up.â Â
Youâre not even all the way in when you start moving; shallow hip thrusts pushing the dildo in and pulling it outâ never all the wayâ getting him used to the sensation again. Mikeyâs trying to hold back, but heâs fisting the sheets, his cock twitching, leaking, aching to be touched.
He sighs, throws his head back and closes his eyes, focusing on the sensation of you. You thrusting into him, your hands soothing over his thighs, your scent still lingering on his skin.Â
âYouâre such a good boy,â you start, thrusting a little deeper, running those hands up and over his hips, purposely missing his cock. âTaking me so well,â fingers ghost over his abs, hands coming to rest on his pecks. âIâm gonna go deeper, âkay?âÂ
He canât reply, his last semblance of sanity being used to keep his moans firmly in his chest, keep his hands away from his neglected cock.Â
Then your deceptively fragile hands are at the backs of his knees, pushing them up, curling him in on himself. His cockhead presses against his tummy, wetting it, giving Mikey a touch of the friction he needs, before youâre bottoming out inside him, an embarrassing sound tearing from his bitten lips, a satisfied sigh leaving yours.Â
âGood boy,â you pant, pulling out to push back in. Itâs so good, too good; leaves his mind completely blank, the wet smacking sound he knows is loud is nothing more than a distant tap-tap in the back of his brain.Â
He wants to cum. Has to come. Heâs been fixating on this all day, prepared himself slowly for a painstakingly long amount of time. Without cumming.Â
But this is just too much. Too good. You hit that spot deep inside him each time your skin claps against his, and he just needsâ just has toâ
You pull out, then Drakenâs on him, grabbing at his wrists, clipping something around each oneâ handcuffs, he realises deliriouslyâ and hooking them up over the headboard of the bed.
âO-oiââ
âI told you, Mikey,â youâre breathing in his ear, âI warned you not to touch your cock,â and with that, youâre firmer, âbut here we are. Now, Iâve gotta tie you up.âÂ
Then Drakenâs gone, and youâre back inside him, and heâs moaning, panting, âI wanna cum!â Heâs pulling against the shackles, writhing to meet your thrusts. âPlease, fuck, I needââ
âI know, Mikey, itâs okay,â youâre bending him more, somehow pushing his knees impossibly closer to his face, your lips pressing against his temple, then his own. âItâs okay,â and your voice is soft, a harsh contrast to the way your hips are slamming into his.
He loses himself then, stops fighting.Â
Succumbs.Â
Heâs moaning like a whore, begging you to fuck him harder, faster, and in a haze of pleasure and need and sweat, the bough breaks.Â
+
The bliss seems endless, but soon enough, heâs opening his eyesâ when did he close them?â and heâs laying in bed, under the covers, a hand stroking his hair, playing with the platinum strands.Â
The TVâs on, and he realises slowly that heâs cuddled up to you, head on your lap, your back against the headboard.
âOh, here he is,â you whisper gently.
He sits up, meetâs Drakenâs eyes from where heâs sitting cozied up to the other side of you. Heâs clean, dry, in fresh clothes: a loose shirt and sweats.
You touch his face, your eyes apologetic. âIâm sorry, Mikey, I went too hardââ
âIts fine,â he sighs, leaning back down to lay on your lap. Itâs more than fine, but heâs not gonna tell you that.Â
âThe cuffs werenât too much?â You pry, fingers back in his hair.Â
âI said itâs fine,â he grumbles, but he wraps his arms around your waist and wriggles closer. âBring âem next time, too.â
He ignores Drakenâs low chuckle and closes his eyes, comfort seeping into his exhaustion, sleep overtaking him once again.
âł as per usual: minors dni, all drabbles are 18+, and these are being posted on my dark content blog for a reason! heed the warnings, lovelies <33
âł also! if these donât get done, they donât âşď¸ď¸ im not gonna be making myself sick worrying about these! if you like one particular idea that⌠i neglect⌠lemme know later on ( Ë ÂłË)~âĄď¸
âł as per usual: minors dni, all drabbles are 18+, and these are being posted on my dark content blog for a reason! heed the warnings, lovelies <33
âł also! if these donât get done, they donât âşď¸ď¸ im not gonna be making myself sick worrying about these! if you like one particular idea that⌠i neglect⌠lemme know later on ( Ë ÂłË)~âĄď¸
